Badge Boys

by Caliente Morgan

  The first man up asked what they had found. “Just the cell. We can hear it ring. It won’t stay charged long. Just a flip phone. If she was anywhere near it and conscious, she’d have answered. Or called back.”

  “Woman driver?”

  “My friend,” Ivan said.

  “Family,” Troy said.

  The CHP nodded. Message received. “How’d you find her?”

  “She went over her driving route with me. Just in case. No GPS. An older truck. When she was two hours late, we got permission to come searching. We couldn’t come earlier. Had a SWAT call out. Active shooter.”

  “The phone could have fallen out of the truck when she wrecked,” the officer said.

  Both Troy and Ivan had thought of that. But that also meant that she could have been thrown out. Be lying on the hill, or at the bottom of it, broken and bleeding. Ivan’s blood ran cold. He must have visibly shivered. Troy clamped him on the shoulder.

  “We will find her,” Troy said.

  Their flashlights and the now five floodlights lit up the hole enough that marks of an impact could be seen. Parts of the evidence had gone down the hill. A few broken pieces of headlights and turn signals were scattered. Pulverized. Nothing big.

  “Looks like she slammed right into the hole. Could have opened up right in front of her. No time to evade.”

  “Looks like a Tacoma,” a second CHP said. “I have one. Recognize this light. Installed one last week.”

  Ivan’s gut climbed up his spine. He stepped away. He was going to hurl.

  Troy grabbed his arm. “Don’t even go there. We don’t know. She’s a smart, tough woman. Look how she handles us? Don’t count her out.”

  “Trying not to. Trying not to. Oh, God. I don’t want to lose her,” he whispered.

  “You okay?” asked one of the CHPs.

  “My woman is somewhere over this cliff. Hurt. Cold. Possibly dead. I’ve seen a lot of accidents in my day. I never wanted to see one where the victim was someone I loved. I know it happens. It’s not something I was ready for.” There. He’d said it.

  Troy held his peace. Patted him on the back. Whispered, “Primary.”

  One of the CHPs had jumped over the sinkhole’s narrower side carrying an emergency road sign with a flashing yellow light. To stop oncoming traffic. He set it up and then made a line of emergency flares. Cal Trans would send a signal truck.

  Ivan and Troy got into their jackets. The temperature was dropping.

  “She have a jacket?” Troy asked.

  “A light one. Top layer of an old ski outfit. The nylon top part. No blankets. She had a suitcase. God knows where it ended up. I have no idea what she was wearing.”

  Ivan felt his world crashing all around him. He pulled himself together. He needed get his personal reactions under control. He had a job to do, even if the highway patrol was in charge. “ETA on rescue guys?” he asked.

  “About another hour. We got people coming the other way, too. Cal Fire driving up. They should be here pretty quick. We need to get our cruisers out of their way.”

  Five cops moved five cruisers away from the edge where someone had gone over, and formed a line on the opposite side of the road, hugging the hill. The floodlights remained aimed at the cliff edge for all the good they did. Five pairs of eyes surveyed the canyon as far as they could see.

  They knew paramedics would be coming with Cal Fire and the rescue squad. These guys had ropes and climbing gear. They could get a fair way down. They really needed a chopper to spot the wreckage.

  The truck hadn’t exploded. They knew that because by now, the whole hill would have gone up in fire and smoke. K-9s at this point were useless unless there was something on the road. They’d have to rescue the dogs if they went into the canyon.

  Ropes. Climbing gear. Ivan and Troy were not qualified. Years ago, yes. Now? Not so much. They both knew guys who were. Some of them were already on the way. Calls had been placed.

  Their captain arrived on-scene. Ivan briefed him, without being overly dramatic. He needed to hang on. Was trained to hang on. You put your personal connection, your feelings, your emotions to the side. He had never had a problem with that before.

  Troy was doing better than he was. Marginally. But then, Troy didn’t suspect that more than one person had gone over that hill.

  CHP had charge of the road, therefore they had charge of the rescue. Didn’t matter. Two agitated local LEOs made an impression. With brass arriving, it was even more of an impression. The news would spread to everyone on scene. She was family. Their family. Cop’s family.

  The captain came up. “What’s the story?”

  Ivan took the lead. Knew the captain had no idea who was who.

  “She hit the sinkhole, flipped ass end up, and bounced once or twice where the marker is and flipped over the edge. Confirmed the signal light cover from her car. Or at least from a Tacoma. This is the road she’d have been on. Drop here just under one mile. Ends in a shallow stream. Steep as hell. They’ve spotted broken saplings and ripped up brush headed down where the floodlights have been aimed. Cell phone goes to voice mail. Afraid to call it much because it doesn’t handle more than a few calls before dying. Damn flip phone. An old one at that. It’s over the side. We heard it ring.”

  “Stubborn woman,” Troy volunteered.

  Ivan continued. “If she was going to be late, she’d have called. We had plans.”

  “That way is it?”

  “Yes.” No denying it. If she came back to him, he was putting a wedding band on her. No more secrets.

  The captain nodded, looked at both of them closely for a moment as if making a decision, and went back to discuss what other help was needed.

  CHP still had the lead.

  But when the victim was one of the family, it had an effect. Maybe not the same as an officer down, but damn close.

  As far as Ivan was concerned, this was a code-99. Officer down.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It had taken her two hours to climb, slipping, hanging on, digging in, inch by tortuous inch. She had crab-walked the hill sideways and then up. She finally made it and barely had the strength left to pull herself over the lip of the ledge. It took several tries and a pep talk.

  Safe. For the moment.

  Annie grabbed for one of the water bottles and drained it. Two bottles down. One left. She found another of the mini candy bars from her purse and ate it without guilt. Water and sugar would help her combat the growing cold.

  It was in the last stages of dark gray where little light penetrated, and under the leaves not even shadows could be identified. This part of the hill was on the reverse side to the setting sun. Pitch dark. She’d be stuck here in pitch dark.

  She dared to use her tiny flashlight, to case the ledge. She moved to the widest section. Her light couldn’t reach the road. In any case, she had no strength to climb higher. She had to wait. For daylight. For rescue. Either.

  They will find me. They will move heaven and Earth to find me. They are probably going nuts.

  She hung onto that.

  Back against the hill, she took out the foam seat cushion and the car seat pad, placed them down, the foam meeting chair pad on top. The car seat cushion she added on top of her tote. Pillow.

  She set about making the plastic recycle bags useful. Two were quickly tied over her shoes. Tied by their handles, they helped seal off the legs of her slacks. She flattened one and shoved it under her bra and tunic. She tied one over her head. Added one around her neck and tucked it under the tunic. She wrapped one around each wrist. Zipped up the parka jacket and pulled the hood up, tied it. As much as she hated to ever tie anything around her neck, she needed to keep the sprained muscles warm.

  Annie was cold. Nothing more to do about that. She lay down on the small pile of cushions, her only protection from the deep cold of the soil. Pressed back into the hill, she fell asleep at once.

  * * * * *

  Something woke her up. She heard engines.
They had broken the silence, disturbed her sleep. Blinking, she saw a flicker of light, very faint. It went away. She wanted to scream, but knew she’d just wear herself out. If the light was an indicator, she was at least a third of a mile down in the ravine.

  In a cleft in the cliff. The overhang would hide her light.

  She had nothing to light on fire and wouldn’t have dared. She’d have burned up along with half the forest.

  Annie wondered where her suitcase had ended up. Wondered if her cell phone was still in it. Tomorrow. Tomorrow at sunrise, she’d have half the full-sized candy bar and half the remaining bottle of water for breakfast. Try to pee into the Gatorade bottle. Tomorrow she’d see what she could see. Maybe find her suitcase. Maybe see a path to the top. Maybe.

  It was getting colder, which helped the swelling. Plastic bags had their limits. Her head hurt. She had slept on the tote, the purse, and a folded cushion to keep her head elevated. Concussion? Probably. Fracture? Maybe. But her vision was as good as it ever was. She tested the sight one eye at a time. Good. No difference. Her left arm hurt like hell. Nothing for it. She needed both arms, even if one bitched and complained with every movement.

  Fussing around on her little ledge, she heard a few rocks roll down, bounce over the ledge, and keep going. And going. And going.

  She’d cry, but she needed to hang onto fluids as long as possible. That was why she was ignoring her bladder. She needed to hang on to all her body’s liquid as long as possible.

  Four hours overdue according to her watch, a Timex, which was still ticking. If guys weren’t sulking about her stubbornness, they would be looking. Wouldn’t they?

  Yes, they would. Who else gave them head as good as she did?

  Silly girl. They love you. They will come. You would go look for them if they were lost. Give them some credit.

  They had been engaged in their first serious arguments on the day she left. Macho alpha men in uniform tended to be overbearing. She wasn’t tolerating that in any way. Had made it clear. Probably had been overly reactive when they tried to put on a tracker. Probably should have allowed them to stick one onto her truck. Probably should have let them drive her to and from. No, then they would have gone into the hole with her. All right, so not that extreme. But she wanted them. Now. Here. She wanted strong arms around her. She wanted to be cossetted and petted.

  Okay. So you wanted to be sure you really did have a voice. Two on one can be overwhelming.

  She had been within her rights to stand up for her wishes. But had she overreacted? Because she hadn’t liked the idea that anyone could track her. It was a privacy invasion she wasn’t interested in having to tolerate. She didn’t have a new car because it was too snoopy. It was her business how fast she drove, where she drove, and when she drove.

  When got off this hill, she’d let them put tracers all over her truck. Or whatever she ended up driving. She’d apologize profusely. She’d hope that she would be allowed to drive off on solo adventures, if she ever wanted to do that again, that is.

  Annie knew that she did not want to lose who she was in the overpowering presence of those two. She loved them, but she would not be treated like she didn’t have a brain. She had one. She wanted to hold her own. Two cops. One was hard enough, but she had two. They would run all over her if she wasn’t on the ball. It would not have been good for them. It certainly would not have been good for her.

  The retreat had been a declaration of independence. Her independence had been the main reason they hadn’t moved forward with moving in with her. She had wanted ground rules. How would you do a prenup with two husbands? How do you explain this to your parents? To a child?

  Right now, if she survived this, she’d move them in all by herself. Not let them out of her sight. Hell, she’d put a leash on them! Never drive off with things unsettled. Never again. She had regretted that for three days.

  But the retreat had got her writing again. She’d accomplished so much. Made new contacts. New friends. That was good for her writing, for growing her business. Books were her life. All her notes...She wanted to find her notes. Her laptop.

  What do I want right now? She wanted her hunky, handsome, sexy, lovers.

  Would they find her in time? Or, would they find what was left of her weeks from now? She shuddered. Cold or...? Or the thought of their pain on finding her body. Damn. Damn. Damn. Her head hurt.

  She hugged the back of the ledge tighter.

  A few minutes later, there was no mistaking the floodlight careening into the treetops. Not above her. Way off to the side. It was joined by another.

  Cop lights!

  Then she heard her cell phone ring. Also way off. Faint. But she knew that tone.

  Who else was out here over the edge of a road with a working cell?

  Was it out of the suitcase? She thought so. It didn’t appear muffled.

  It rang again.

  It was them. Had to be. Who else would have come looking for her? They were probably freaked out. She hoped they wouldn’t try to climb down to find her. No. They’d call in backup. Surely. They weren’t green rookies. These two were seasoned cops. Highly skilled. Capable.

  She tried to settle herself down. Patience. Patience. Patience.

  Her stomach rumbled.

  Damn. So close and yet too far.

  She didn’t dare try to move off the ledge. She couldn’t see. She’d fall. She couldn’t see the drop but knew from the length of time it took the truck to hit bottom that it was a long way down. That was not the direction she wanted to be going in.

  Her teeth chattered. Shock and cold. She decided close enough and broke out the king-sized candy bar. Ate a couple bites. Chewed slowly. Sipped water. Sugar was a great pacifier. So was chocolate. She needed the calories to keep warm. Her survival training was kicking in.

  Find me. Find me. Find me.

  Someone was up there. Someone knew it was a wreck. Was it them? Had to be.

  What if they missed? What if they hadn’t heard the phone?

  Don’t think that way.

  They were probably a good half a mile off from being directly above her. Maybe.

  The lights went out and she almost cried out. A few minutes later, the floods were back but dimmer. She guessed the cars had been moved. Then she watched and found that there were now five floods.

  The cavalry had arrived. They had cleared the edge of the road. Why? Because the rescue engines would be coming. They’d need climbers. They would need to anchor on something stable. Nothing more stable than a big old fire truck.

  Maybe, just maybe they’d send a search chopper. She had to stay awake now, even though her eyelids were heavy and kept trying to close. Her whole body wanted sleep. Warmth. Her whole body ached. She wanted a deep bubble bath. Hot water. Jetted tub. She’d settle for a hot shower. Hot coffee. Pizza. She wanted to sleep with those two big warm bodies pressed against her head to toe. She loved it when they made her the stuffing in a man sandwich. An action that usually ended with them all giggling, too sated to do anything else.

  Ivan! Troy! Find me!

  More noises. Engine noises. Trucks.

  Still centered over where the cell had landed.

  Drat!

  They’d splay lights over the edge when a climber went over. She needed to know. Because she had only the little light with her. But if a climber got low enough, could she attract attention? She had the white garbage bags on her hands. Waving? Waving them with her tiny light?

  So close. So close.

  She could almost feel Ivan’s lips on her skin. His arms around her. Troy’s tongue down her throat. Their fingers stroking her sensitive tissues in unison. Her nipples being tweaked, rubbed, licked and nibbled. Her body responded as if they were there. Teasing her. Caressing her.

  She shook herself into focus.

  Hallucinations.

  Her head injury must be worse than she thought.

  She hugged herself. She wanted them. Now. Both of them.

  Hurry
, boys. I can’t hold out much longer.

  Overhead, she heard the distinctive bark of a K-9.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ivan walked over to the newly arrived cruiser. Oliver was one of their K-9 officers. Troy was watching the dog get unloaded.

  “Oliver brought his dog I see,” Ivan said.

  “What’s the dog going to do? We can see the crash marks,” asked a CHP.

  Troy lifted up one of Annie’s tank tops. “See if they can find her. She’s probably out of the truck. What if she’s nowhere near that damn phone?”

  “I’ll agree on that,” added Ivan. “She’d have figured a way to get out. There’s a tree broken in the path. They can’t see anything on the ground. If the truck hauled up there and stopped flipping, she’d have figured a way to get out before it plunged the rest of the way down. If she were conscious. Unhurt. She would find a way to signal. Can’t see how she’d be unhurt. We need to find her.”

  Ivan was praying that she was unhurt. Or not hurt very much. But she’d be cold. Jacket, plastic bags, whatever. It was not enough.

  The captain walked back over. “They’ve got a ranger driving up the river trail. He’s on a four-wheeler. He patrols down there. Knows the roads and trails. He’s gonna see if he can find the wreck.”

  “It’s damn dark.”

  “He’s got the quad headlights and a heavy-duty floodlight. He does lost hiker rescue routinely. So, we wait. The climbing teams are less then five minutes out. They also rolled a big ladder truck to use as a support base.”

  Ivan was starting to pace. He wanted to be doing something. This wasn’t part of his normal routine. He’d never even climbed a wall in harness. “Chopper?”

  “Search and rescue about to lift off. Also equipped with a major light source.”

  Ivan shook his head, bit his lip. “They could blind each other and miss her. I don’t think she had a flashlight. The foliage...”

  “You need to stay positive. You and Troy. She’ll need that when she comes up.”

  Troy waited until the captain had gone far enough away not to be overheard. “You know they know. This isn’t a secret anymore. They know damn well we both are involved with her.”