First Impressions

by Jay Hogan

  Paris whined and pulled at his harness. Josh didn’t want to free the animal to track in case he joined up with the others. Mark might never speak to him again.

  Fuck. It only took him a couple of seconds. If there was ever a time to trust the animal’s instincts and skills, it was now. If Paris was wrong, the other team had it covered. Couldn’t hurt to widen the search area. “Okay, boy. It’s your show.” He released the lead. Too late now.

  Paris took off through a section of thick bush at the base of the hill, well below the car park. He ran, nose to the ground, delving left and right on occasion to check a scent but always returning to the central path and moving forward. They seemed to be circling a little more to the left than before, but still a fair distance away from the official teams. Josh tried to keep positive. He had little option but to trust his partner’s nose when it came to finding Sasha.

  Halfway around the back slope, Paris suddenly banked hard to the right, and Josh called him to a halt. He ran back and forth, intently focused on something just ahead, but there was nothing but dense manuka scrub and kahikatea, so thick it blocked the sun, moss covering the ground.

  “You got something, boy?” Josh knelt alongside, fingers hooked in Paris’s harness. Paris barked excitedly. Somewhere to his left, Rage bayed, nowhere near Paris but tuned into his search mate’s familiar sound. Any second now all hell would rain down on them. His only hope was that Paris was on the money. God, what he wouldn’t give to see his daughter’s face.

  His heart hammered in his chest. They had so little time. For all he knew, Cruz could be long gone and Paris had simply latched on to Sasha’s residual scent. She’d make a damn good insurance policy for the bastard, but Josh couldn’t think that way. Not yet.

  Paris launched himself out of Josh’s hands, and this time his bark carried an entirely different tone. Josh’s heart leapt. He’d found something.

  “Sasha!” He surged ahead, following his partner through a tangled mass of manuka and blackberry, into a tiny clearing no more than a couple of square metres. There, Paris went quiet and lay down alongside what looked like a discarded pile of clothes. Josh’s heart leapt to his throat. No. He knew that shirt. Sasha had worn it to the party. It was her favourite.

  “Sasha!” He collapsed at her side and a soft moan rose from the bundle of clothes. Oh, thank Christ. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?” He shook her gently.

  Sasha stirred. “Dad?”

  He crushed her to his chest and held tight, tears washing over his cheeks. “Oh, honey. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  Sasha cuddled against his chest. “My head hurts.”

  Josh pulled back a fraction and brushed the hair from her face, taking his first good look. Sasha was pale and shocked, her lips trembling, her eyes unfocused. A trail of dried blood ran from her ear down her jaw and throat. Her shirt was stained red from neckline to underarm. But it didn’t look fresh.

  Barking and voices closed in on Josh’s left.

  “Over here,” he shouted, pulling Sasha against him to rock her in his arms.

  “Paris?” Sasha buried a hand in the shepherd’s hair.

  “Yeah, he found you, pumpkin. You did real good, baby. I love you so much, you know that, right?” He didn’t want to quiz her, but with his daughter safe, all Josh could think of now was Michael.

  Paris surged to his feet, hackles pricked as Rage raced onto the scene. The other dog stopped, and the two shepherds eyed off, Paris placing himself between Rage and Sasha.

  “It’s okay, boy,” Josh soothed the dog.

  “Settle down,” Colin Hardy instructed his shepherd from somewhere to the left, and Rage immediately dropped to the ground.

  Hardy caught sight of Sasha and frowned. “She okay?”

  Josh nodded. “Far as I can tell.”

  “Thank God,” the other man breathed in relief. “I’ll get the medics.”

  WHILE THEY waited, Josh peppered Sasha’s head with kisses as he asked what he needed to. Michael’s life could very well rely on something she’d had seen.

  “Do you remember anything, sweetheart?” he asked gently.

  Sasha shook her head. “My head hurts. I was trying to find you.”

  “You did great, pumpkin.”

  She snuggled against him, sobbing. “I was scared.”

  “I know, sweetheart, I know.” He wrapped her tight in his arms.

  Colin Hardy placed a hand on Josh’s shoulder. “They’re on their way.”

  “Mickey was there,” Sasha murmured.

  Oh God. Josh’s heart lurched. “Was he… was he okay, honey?”

  She shrugged. “The man said he had to stay.”

  Josh’s throat closed over. Cruz had taken Michael after all. He brushed a stray lock of hair from Sasha’s eyes. “He saved you, sweetheart.”

  She gave a small smile, and it was so damn good to see.

  Colin tapped Josh’s hip with the toe of his boot. “A word of warning. Mark’s on the warpath, not to mention what the chief’s gonna say about your shenanigans. What the hell did you think you were doing?”

  Josh had the grace to blush. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t just sit there, man. Could you?”

  Colin sighed. “Probably not. But that’s not gonna save your ass, you realise that?”

  Whatever. He’d do exactly the same again.

  Colin’s radio crackled, and he moved away to answer, stabbing the ground with his boot as he talked. When he returned, Josh caught something in the man’s expression that gave him hope. “Michael?”

  Colin nodded. “Not that I should tell your interfering ass a damn thing, but yeah, they found him. He’s okay.”

  The air rushed out of Josh’s chest, and it was just as well he was already on the ground. Thank God, thank fucking God. His heart settled, and warmth swelled in his chest. Relief and something more, something he couldn’t put words to yet, wasn’t sure he wanted to. He buried his face in Sasha’s hair to hide his damp cheeks. Fuck, he’d come so close.

  Colin patted his back. “He’s a bit banged up. Took a few hits by the look of it, but they got him just as Cruz was trying to bundle him into a car on the northern side. He’s damn lucky. If you’re going to be the chief’s main course over this fuck-up, that man’s a shoe-in for dessert.”

  Josh wiped his face on his sleeping daughter’s clothes and raised his head. “The chief will have to get in line. That idiot’s mine.”

  When the paramedics arrived, Josh reluctantly handed his daughter over while staying as close as possible. As desperate as he was to see Michael, Sasha needed him. Michael was okay and that had to be enough, for now.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Nine days later.

  SASHA HEADED to her classroom with Josh following her every step. It was her first day back since the kidnapping, and it was all he could do not to gather her in his arms and lock her in a padded cell for the foreseeable future. It was ridiculous, of course, but after the kidnapping, he’d been left feeling helpless to protect her, and he hated it. Not that she felt the same way. Hell, she’d refused to even let him walk her in, the little minx.

  He’d wanted her home another week at least but she’d insisted, citing his mother hen routine was driving her crazy. He’d give her that. She said she needed some “kid normal” time, as she called it, but Josh wasn’t sure anything about her world or his would ever be normal again.

  To her credit she stuck to her guns, and after two days of preteen pouting, he’d caved and agreed to let her return. None of that helped this morning, however, and it had taken all his will not to slap a tracker on her and chain her to the bed. Katie, who’d barely left Josh’s house since that fateful Saturday, was right there with him in his worry, bless her heart.

  Somehow, they’d bitten their tongues, plastered their happy faces on, and followed through on his promise. Katie left for work, her eyes loaded with concern and a few tears, and Josh had done the school run. He was still on personal leave, though he s
uspected John Stables regarded it more in the line of a suspension over the whole Paris tracking thing. Fuck them. At least he still had a job.

  The hospital had kept Sasha only a couple of nights due to her concussion, then released her. But the following week at home with his daughter had played holy hell with Josh’s head and his heart. Coming so close to losing his daughter had triggered huge anxiety that he had no clue how to deal with. It swamped his thinking, making it damn near impossible to come to any decision about anything. And he couldn’t bear to have Sasha out of his sight for more than a few minutes at a time.

  In the end it had been Sasha herself, storming to her bedroom on the fourth day home, screaming at him to get out of her hair, that had pushed him to seek help. Two sessions with the police psychologist had improved things, but he’d need a few more yet. He also needed the damn woman’s clearance to return to work, and she didn’t seem ready to give it just yet. He was quietly relieved.

  Sasha had completed three sessions with a child psychologist, the first three of many, Josh understood. She didn’t talk much about what went on during those sessions, but she seemed calmer afterwards, so he guessed that was something. The concussion thankfully meant she didn’t remember much about the kidnapping itself, which Josh was eternally thankful for. But she did remember getting backhanded by that bastard and then wandering confused and alone in the park.

  Both of those things had tipped her world of trust on its axis, and although she reassured him she was okay, she suffered nightmares most nights and the fear would take a long while to leave her eyes. In those early days, Josh had caught her checking for him constantly when she thought he wasn’t looking. In returning to school, she was showing huge courage, and he guessed he needed to as well. His job was to be there, hold her, let her make decisions and talk things out and be the reliable, dependable dad… and to keep going to his own sessions.

  The last couple of days had shown a lot of progress, and leaving for school today, Sasha had been happy enough to have him only a cell phone away, and the teachers all understood she was to have the freedom to call him at any time, class or no class. They’d take it day by day.

  Offers of help had been endless, and although Josh appreciated all the concern, the food that kept turning up on his front door had filled his freezer and was now making its way to the local women’s refuge. Just that morning he’d put a note on his Facebook along the lines of “thanks but enough.”

  Jason had called in to see Sasha, and Josh had kept the visit short and sweet. He wanted less and less to do with the guy. Still, he’d been civil and held his tongue. It was all about his daughter’s needs not his own right now.

  Brent had kept in contact to be supportive, and Josh was increasingly hopeful about the whole friendship idea between them. Brent had even been out on a coffee date with another handler, a much better match all around. However screwed up Josh’s relationship with Michael had been, Josh wanted the kind of passion they’d shared with whoever he committed to. Life was too damn short.

  On the plus side of the whole fucked-up kidnapping mess, Josh’s parents had turned out to be unexpectedly helpful. Nearly losing their granddaughter had galvanised something. They made a point of visiting each day and keeping their homophobic bullshit to themselves. Sasha’s coolness toward her grandparents had mellowed somewhat as they’d shamelessly plied her with books, computer games, and her favourite snacks. They’d even asked for their thanks be passed on to Michael for his role in Sasha’s release. Fuck me. Josh had nearly fallen over backwards checking the sky for flying swine.

  Another plus had been Anna. Sasha’s mother had kept up an admirable run of contact with her daughter, one that boded well for a future relationship. She’d even promised to visit after her baby was born.

  Mark had popped in and out, keeping Josh up with the case and generally just checking up on them. Denton Cruz was screwed every which way till Sunday: murder, kidnap, assault, the works. He was going away for too many years to count, and Josh couldn’t feel happier about it. Not that he hadn’t caught himself wishing on a number of occasions that the motherfucker had given the Armed Offenders reason enough to shoot him.

  Through Mark, Josh learned that Michael was doing okay, a bit of bruising from the assault but nothing that wouldn’t heal quickly. He’d given all his statements and was on temporary leave from the ER to recover. Josh had tried calling and texting to thank the man too many times to count, but his attempts had gone from continual voicemail pickup to “this number no longer exists,” and the hospital was being gnarly about handing out the man’s new contact information.

  Josh finally decided to simply drop by the man’s apartment, but even that hadn’t elicited a response to his knocking. It was clear Michael was avoiding Josh, and Josh was beyond pissed about it. He had enough to deal with keeping Sasha on the mend and stopping his own pyramid of fears and anxiety from toppling over without Michael playing coy. Josh had things that needed saying and the other man needed to damn well listen.

  To make matters worse, when he’d asked Mark about it, he’d been unusually cagey, saying only that Michael had requested to keep his new number private, and Mark had to respect that. Like fuck. Josh wanted to slap his friend six ways till Sunday for suddenly finding some squirrely ethics. Mark did, however, promise to pass on Josh’s request that he call him.

  That had been two days ago and still nothing. Well, that bullshit stopped today. After dropping Sasha at school, Josh headed to the ER, and he wasn’t planning to leave without some way to contact Michael.

  He found Cam in his office, brooding over staff rosters. The charge nurse looked up as he entered and immediately pushed his chair back.

  “Hey there, you.” Cam pulled Josh into a quick hug.

  Initially stiff in his arms, Josh quickly relaxed. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable, just caught unawares. Cam was ordinarily a cool customer, quick with a flirt, but other than that, professional to a fault. He couldn’t remember ever seeing the guy hug another person on duty. As if on cue, the charge nurse pulled away with a sheepish grin.

  Josh held his gaze. “Thanks.”

  Cam nodded. “Yeah, well, I’ve been thinking about you guys.” He indicated for Josh to take a seat. “So, how’s our girl?”

  Josh took a second to scour the nurses’ station through Cam’s window, looking for any sign of Michael. He wasn’t even trying to pretend. The need to see the other man had grown frantic over the last forty-eight hours. With his obsessive worry about his daughter finally abating, just a little, Josh was now consumed with the need to catch up with Michael.

  He wanted to thank him, to apologise, to… well shit, to kiss him, taste him, and a whole lot of other stuff that went along with that. The difference being that he was now beyond trying to justify or deny it. He wanted to try again with Michael Oliver, potential disaster or not, and he intended to tell him precisely that as soon as possible.

  “She’s doing better,” he answered sounding far steadier than he felt. “She actually went to school today. Said I was drowning her in sap and cotton wool. Her words, by the way.”

  Cam snorted. “Gotta love kids. Good news, though, if she’s feeling that feisty. You must be relieved as hell.”

  He blew out a sigh. “Pretty much.”

  Silence fell between them and Cam shifted awkwardly under Josh’s scrutiny. “I’d take a bet you’re here about Michael,” he said.

  Josh nodded. “He’s dropped off the face of the freaking earth, apparently, at least as far as I’m concerned. Changed his phone, won’t answer his door, won’t let Mark give me his number. It doesn’t make sense. He sent a really great letter to Sasha, three pages long. She pinned it up behind her bed, the only one allowed to go there. But as far as me… zip. I haven’t even been able to fucking thank him. And it’s not just that, I want to… ah, shit.”

  Cam picked up his pen and twirled it through his fingers. He studied Josh with sadness and what looked like apology. “He�
��s gone.”

  Josh frowned. “Gone? What do you mean, gone? Gone for the day? Gone from the hospital, taken time off?” But even as he said it, there was this sinking feeling in the pit of Josh’s stomach about the real meaning of the nurse’s words.

  Cam shook his head. “Gone, as in left New Zealand. He flew back to the States, yesterday as it happens.”

  Josh felt his eyes burn as a surge of fury spiked in his chest. No! Michael wouldn’t do that, not just leave without a fucking word. Not without seeing Sasha or Josh. Something gave way and caught in Josh’s throat and it took two attempts for him to draw more than a hitched breath. He tried to focus and calm the fuck down. “But his contract….”

  Cam hissed. “Jesus Christ. The guy’s such a fucking coward. I thought he’d at least let you know.” He took a deep breath and appeared to steady himself. “Look,” he said apologetically. “With everything that happened, the hospital wasn’t going to stand in the way of Michael breaking his contract. It was understandable he’d want to get home where his support was.”

  “Where his supp—ah, shit. So he just left without a word? What the fuck?” Anger replaced rejection in Josh’s heart and snowballed fast. “Who does something like that after what happened? Sasha wants to see him. And what about the police case?” Mark was gonna have his balls burned the next time Josh laid eyes on him.

  “They gave him the green light. As long as he comes back for the trial, they’ll sort anything else through phone calls and lawyers in California. I take it no one told you?”

  Josh thought of Mark and glared. “Not a fucking word.”

  Cam nodded as if that came as no surprise. “Anyway, he resigned and was gone within a day. And, um….” Cam blew out a weary sigh. “Shit. Look, when he called in to collect his gear, he’d been drinking. I could smell it on him. He was a mess, and he wasn’t about to listen to anyone.”

  Drinking? Josh’s eyes snapped open. “You spoke with him?”

  “Of course. I had to sign off on all the paperwork the fucker created.” The charge nurse’s mouth quirked up. “I think he knew you’d come because he mentioned a few things without placing a gag order on me. I assume that’s because he wants you to know.”