“Then why don’t we get you out of here?” Charlie said.
“That would be nice,” she responded. Picturing a bathtub filled with ice cubes with her name on it. Forget about citrus bath salts.
A man she didn’t recognize walked up to the car and cleared his throat.
“Can I have a moment, sir?” he asked Charlie.
He nodded, flashed a quick smile to Alyssa and then walked off. Again, she couldn’t hear what was discussed, but the movement brought attention to the far end of the parking lot. It was being cleared. The staff from the courthouse, and even some people from the sheriff’s department next door, were moving farther away.
Alyssa looked back at Deputy Foster. She realized he was wearing a bomb vest. “So, do they think they can really get me out of here?”
The deputy followed her gaze to his vest. He straightened it and then lowered himself to meet her stare head-on.
“I’ll be honest with you,” he started. “I don’t know them personally, but the sheriff and Captain Jones both say Charlie and his team are the best in the South.” He cut another grin. “And they think they’re going to get you out of this with all limbs attached, so I’m going to bet on a yes.”
Alyssa gave the smallest of nods. Her vision was starting to blur a little. She tried to pull in a calming breath. The air was so wet she felt like she was drowning.
“Hey, listen to me,” he continued, tone tough. Stern. “When they get you out of here, how about I take you out for a nice jug of sweet tea? That’s something you guys seem to like around here, right? Sweet tea?”
Despite everything, Alyssa snorted.
“You must be from up north,” she muttered, each word strained.
She watched as his look of concern seemed to grow. Then, altogether, he began to blur.
“Alyssa,” he said, voice raised. “All you have to do is sit still. You got that?”
“I’m trying,” she defended. To her own ears she sounded breathless. And not in that sexy Scarlett O’Hara way.
Charlie swam back into view a few seconds later. His mask was down now. He turned to the deputy. “I guess if your captain and sheriff can’t make you leave, then I shouldn’t try either.”
The deputy shook his head. At least, that was what Alyssa thought he did. Either way, when Charlie was addressing her, Deputy Foster was still there.
It was comforting.
“Okay, Miss Garner, I’m going to very slowly try to replace your weight with this metal plate,” he said, already going into the back seat, the only way to reach the bomb. Which made her a little happier, considering she didn’t think her floorboard could accommodate the big man like it had the deputy. “When we’ve done that successfully, then Deputy Foster here will take you somewhere much cooler.”
“O-Okay.”
The world around her was becoming one giant blur. Alyssa wanted to watch what Charlie was doing. She wanted to ask questions. She wanted to tell Deputy Foster to go where it was safe. But the fact of the matter was, Alyssa was putting all the energy she had left into not passing out.
* * *
CALEB WAS SWEATING BULLETS.
He split his focus between Charlie trying to fool the bomb by thinking Alyssa was still sitting on top of it and the woman herself. Since the water and fan hadn’t worked, she’d spent almost forty-five minutes being drained, and now he wasn’t sure if she’d make it past another minute.
Her head was leaning back against the headrest, and her eyelids seemed to be fighting gravity. Caleb wanted to touch her, to remind her he was there, but he couldn’t. Not just because of the bomb. While he was starting to get an idea of her character, she still had no idea about his.
And he wanted to keep it that way.
“Okay. Here we go. Get ready to grab her,” Charlie commanded. “I think I’ve—What the hell?”
Alyssa must have really been out of it. She didn’t look alarmed in the slightest at the sharp tone the man trying to disarm the bomb beneath her took on.
But Caleb did. “What’s go—”
Click.
“Damn,” Charlie interrupted. “Grab her!”
Click. Click.
“Grab her now,” Charlie yelled again, struggling out of the back seat in his uniform.
Caleb didn’t have to be told a third time.
He threaded his arms beneath Alyssa’s legs and back and hoisted her out in one quick move.
Click.
Charlie was already yelling, “Now run!”
Caleb tucked Alyssa against his chest and ran faster than he’d ever run before.
“Eight seconds,” Charlie yelled out to anyone who could hear.
Like ants in the rain, everyone in front of or behind the blocked-off perimeter of the parking lot scurried this way and that, trying to get as far away as they could. The crowd that had formed was yelling while deputies and bomb squad alike were barking orders to each other and bystanders.
Two members of the squad in particular stood out. Instead of running away from the car, they were running toward Caleb, Alyssa and Charlie with two dark blankets. When the five of them finally collided, Charlie yelled to hit the ground.
Caleb dove onto his side so he would take the brunt of the fall, and then just as quickly rolled over to cover the woman in his arms. The bomb squad men positioned themselves on either side of Charlie and Caleb and threw the blankets—which Caleb now realized were bomb blankets, made from layers of Kevlar—over each of them.
Caleb felt like he was being pulled every which way in the moments that followed. What-ifs sprang up in his mind like flowers in the spring—What if they hadn’t cleared the blast area? What if the bomb blanket didn’t help them? What if he never got to take Alyssa out for that drink of sweet tea he’d offered?—while his body seemed to be running on instinct. It created a cage around the woman, trying to make itself as big as possible to protect her at all costs. But then another part of him, one he didn’t know where it was coming from, was looking down at her face—slack from the unconsciousness she finally had given in to—and thinking how beautiful she was. But then everyone was yelling and he remembered to fear what was about to happen.
Not for himself, but for Alyssa.
Chapter Six
They waited.
And waited.
And waited.
No explosion rocked the ground, filled the air or even disrupted the birds chirping in the distance. Caleb chanced a look over to Charlie, who gave him nothing less than a similar expression of confusion.
“When I slid the plate in, a counter slid out for ten seconds,” he defended. “It started to count down instantly. It should have gone off by now.”
Cautiously both men stood, Caleb scooping Alyssa back up and putting her firmly against his chest. “I’m getting her out of here.”
Charlie didn’t stop him and ordered one of the bomb squad with the bomb blankets to follow until they made it past the barricade.
“Thanks, man,” Caleb made sure to say. The man nodded.
“No problem,” he answered. “It’s my job.”
The simple statement was all it took to remind Caleb of his own job. If he still had one. As if he’d been summoned, Captain Jones was at their side.
“I told the EMTs to stay farther back, just in case,” he hurried, pointing out the ambulance on the other side of the street. There was a news van a few yards from it, despite the blocks that had been put between them. A cameraman and a woman wielding a microphone were standing tall and ready. “Let me take care of them. You follow—”
Both men paused as a foreign sound filled the air.
“Is that—” the captain started, turning around to look in the direction of Alyssa’s car. Caleb did the same. “—music?” he finished.
&n
bsp; The world quieted around them. Bystanders, deputies and bomb squad alike became silent and listened. There was no mistaking it. Coming from the abandoned Honda wasn’t fire and smoke but music.
A piano solo.
What was going on?
Alyssa stirred in Caleb’s arms. It brought him out of his moment of wonder. “Time to get you out of here.”
* * *
ALYSSA WISHED SHE’D worn a nicer bra. The one she had on now was off-beige, comfortable, did its job and was not supposed to be seen by anyone other than herself. Her panties—black, not beige, also comfortable and just as capable of doing their job—were on the same list of Things That Were Very Private. And yet, looking down at herself, there they were. Open to the hospital room around her just as they had been open to the EMTs who had deemed it necessary to strip her down in the ambulance.
Sure, they were trying to bring her core temperature down as quickly as possible to save her brain cells from dying off and, well, her dying off too. Yet there she was, all brain cells intact, remembering that it hadn’t just been her and the EMTs in the ambulance.
Deputy Caleb Foster had been there too.
Fresh heat crawled up Alyssa’s neck and into her cheeks. No one would count it as embarrassment, seeing as how she’d spent the last half hour being treated for heat stroke. Still, when someone knocked on the door, she tried to mentally restrain the blush.
“Hello?” a woman called. “My name is Cassie Gates. I’m from the sheriff’s department. May I come in?”
The name was familiar to Alyssa, but she couldn’t quite place how.
“You may,” she responded, grabbing the thin sheet and holding it loosely over her body. Part of her treatment had allowed her to stay in her own undergarments but nothing else, minus several ice packs strategically placed against her skin. Which was a big reason Deputy Foster had excused himself. Though, she realized later, that was only after the doctor had said they believed she’d be fine.
A blond-haired woman around Alyssa’s age came in and shut the door behind her. She was dressed in a pale pink blouse, khaki skirt and sandals. Not what Alyssa expected when she’d said “sheriff’s department.”
“I hope I’m not intruding too much,” she greeted, coming forward with her hand outstretched. “They told me you were a bit indisposed until your temperature was back to normal.”
“No, it’s fine,” Alyssa assured her, shaking. She motioned to a chair next to the bed. “There’s already been quite a few people who have seen me today. I’ll take good health over modesty any day.”
The woman smiled and took a seat. The movement shifted some of her hair to the side. In the middle of her neck was a nasty, circular scar. Alyssa brought her eyes back up to Cassie’s in a flash. She hoped her stray in attention wasn’t noticed.
“So, you’re from the sheriff’s department?”
Cassie nodded. If she noticed Alyssa noticing the scar, she didn’t comment on it.
“I’m one of the dispatchers,” she explained. “Currently working night shift.”
Alyssa still didn’t understand why a dispatcher with the sheriff’s department had come to see her.
“And you’re probably wondering why I of all people am here right now,” Cassie added with a laugh.
Alyssa joined in.
“Not to be rude, but yes, I was wondering that a little,” she admitted.
“I don’t blame you,” Cassie assured her. She moved to the edge of her seat and clasped her hands across her lap. “I’m actually here because of several different reasons, the first being I’m a woman and Captain Jones thought it would be more appropriate if I was the one to check in with you.” She held up her hand to stop whatever comment Alyssa had. “While there are several women throughout our department, I think he actually chose me because I was in your position somewhat last year.” She moved her hand up to motion to the scar on her neck. “I think he wants you to be able to talk to someone who knows what it’s like to be going about your day and then in a flash everything changes.”
It finally clicked for Alyssa.
“The man who shot inside the department last year,” she remembered. That story had been on all the news outlets for weeks after it happened, including the woman who had been shot in the neck. It had been because of a case the sheriff had been working then. Though the rest of the details were harder to recall.
“When I woke up that morning, I didn’t imagine I’d be taking a bullet,” Cassie confirmed. “Which is why I think Captain Jones thought of me to check on you.”
“Because, not only did I not plan on sitting on a bomb today, I also didn’t plan on taking a bullet last year either,” Alyssa guessed.
Cassie nodded. “I may not be a therapist, but I am a fellow trauma survivor.” She cut a grin. “I’m relatable!”
Alyssa couldn’t help laughing. It felt good. She eased the sheet off her, no longer worried about the other woman seeing her exposed skin. “So you’re here to see if I’m coping with everything that’s happened?” she asked when both had sobered.
Cassie nodded. “Basically.”
Alyssa had already spent her slight isolation in the last half hour wondering about that same thing. One person could only take so much, but she’d come to the conclusion that she wasn’t at her breaking point. Not yet, at least.
“I’m doing okay,” she answered. “I’m more confused than anything. I don’t understand who would put a bomb in my car or why. Especially one that just played music, like Deputy Foster said. What’s the point?”
Cassie shrugged.
“Some people don’t think like we’d expect them to, but I assure you the sheriff’s department will get to the bottom of the who at the very least.” Cassie held up her index finger. “Which brings me to another bit of business. Sheriff Reed along with Chief Deputy Simmons wanted me to express their deepest apologies that they aren’t here in person to help with the investigation. They are working another investigation that has become hard to break away from. But the sheriff wanted to assure you—and I do too—that Captain Jones and the rest of the department are more than capable.”
Alyssa felt better at the sheriff’s words, even if they were funneling through someone else. She had been one of the many residents of Riker County who had elected him to office. She was also a closet fan of his wife’s because of the fund-raising event she and her business partner had put together to help the victims’ families in the wake of the bank robbery. The couple’s kindness, as well as the department’s, had shone through during a dark time in the community. Alyssa trusted them, even if some of them weren’t actually in town.
“Thank you,” she said. “I just want the trial to be over and everything to go back to normal.”
“It will,” Cassie promised. She started to stand. Her demeanor flipped. Her smile turned mischievous. “Now, before I go to work, I wanted to give you a little advice.” She walked closer and lowered her voice. Alyssa leaned in, curious. The ice pack on her stomach shifted. “Ask specifically for Deputy Foster to take you home when the time comes. If you want to help him out, that is.”
Another thought Alyssa wouldn’t share with the woman was how she’d already decided it would be his help she asked for. Considering that he had risked being blown up to save her, she wanted the chance to truly thank him. So far she hadn’t gotten any alone time with him since she’d been brought in. Still, she wondered why Cassie had brought it up. “Why does he need help?”
Cassie’s playful mood depleted. Her smile disappeared.
“He’s new and not the easiest man to work with,” she said. “His position wasn’t helped when he defied several direct orders today.”
“He defied direct orders?”
“To leave you and let the professionals handle the dismantling themselves,” she answered, apologetic. “It s
ounds harsh, but it’s protocol. And, well, that’s not the first time he’s overstepped his duties during his career.”
Cassie’s eyes widened and her face flushed. Alyssa had a feeling she hadn’t meant to say as much as she had.
“Either way, I thought that maybe you asking for him specifically would remind everyone else that there are exceptions, even to protocol.”
Her smile was back. She did a little nod to Alyssa and started to leave.
“Hey, Cassie,” Alyssa called. The woman turned, face open and still smiling. “Getting shot...” Alyssa paused while she looked for the words she hadn’t realized she needed to say, to relate with someone else. The spot on her back felt like it was burning again. Finally she settled on simple. “It sure does suck, doesn’t it?”
Cassie didn’t miss a beat. “It sure does.”
* * *
“THEY’RE SAYING IT was a joke.”
Caleb looked up from his chair and at the water bottle Deputy Dante Mills had outstretched.
Caleb was mad. “Then whoever they is has one hell of a sense of humor.”
Dante shook the bottle again. Caleb finally took it. He’d already downed a few since they’d come to the hospital.
“I’m not arguing with that.”
He quieted as Caleb took a drink. He’d noticed that Dante had often given him time to let his thoughts, and mood, settle while they were patrolling together. It was a much different situation than what he’d dealt with on the force in Portland. While he never had just one partner, it seemed that everyone he did get matched up with fought to keep the conversation going. Even when it was clear he didn’t want it to. Either way, he was usually grateful for the quiet.
However, at the moment, it wasn’t helping calm him down. Not after the morning he’d had.
“No one thinks that it’s connected to the Storm Chasers’ trial?” Caleb snapped. “I mean, it’s one hell of a coincidence it happens after the fire alarm was destroyed. Which we conveniently don’t have any security camera footage for, I might add.”
The Deputy's Witness Page 5