Lost and Found

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Lost and Found Page 17

by Margaret Lake


  “Uh,” but this time, Michael managed to nod.

  “Okay. Officer Carter is going to sit on you until we hear back from the chief.”

  Michael was getting a little tired of breathing dirt, but Carter was holding him down. He probably could have thrown the man off him, but he didn’t think that was wise. In fact, out of all the stupid things he’d done today … and according to the cops, everything he’d done was stupid … that would be the stupidest of them all.

  Forbes came back and squatted beside Michael. “Chief is telling the guys to let us through, but not to stand down. Since they are still on alert, you will get up on your feet, slowly, and walk with us to the back door. Once inside, you will continue to walk with us. You’re allowed to go upstairs for five minutes. No more. Then we’ll walk you back downstairs and outside. You should be able to get plenty of footage from there.”

  “Okay,” Michael agreed, trying to spit the dirt out of his mouth. Considering everything he’d done that might have interfered with the operation, he thought Chief was being very generous.

  Like most farmhouses, the back door led into the kitchen. There was a door standing open at the far end with stairs leading up, probably a twin to stairs going from the living room to meet on a second-floor landing.

  “Chief radioed the paramedics to expect us, but we’re not going in. Our weapons might scare the old folks and they’re probably scared enough already. So just walk quietly and don’t speak.”

  “Got it,” Michael rasped. His throat was dry and dusty and he probably couldn’t have managed much more than his name.

  A middle-aged man in a paramedic’s uniform was waiting for Michael on the landing. “What happened to you?” he asked.

  “I’m okay. How are the hostages?”

  “Dehydrated, malnourished, scared out of their wits and we can’t even sedate them until they get a thorough exam back at the hospital.”

  “So, what next?”

  “Let’s move down the hall. They’ll be bringing the worst cases out now.”

  “How bad?”

  “One clearly had a stroke and another can barely breathe. We’ll get them on IV once we get them into the truck. No sense trying to poke them here. Too much confusion.”

  “And the others?”

  “We’re working on calming them down. They all seem to be dementia cases and the poor things don’t understand what’s going on.”

  Michael watched as a gurney folded into a chair and carrying an unconscious woman was maneuvered carefully down the stairs. As soon as they reached the kitchen, they signaled that the next gurney could make the descent. This one carried a man with an oxygen mask being held in place by a paramedic to the rear. Even though he was strapped in, the man was fighting those who were trying to help him.

  “Take the mask off. It’s not doing him any good anyway. We’ll put it back when we’re in the truck,” one of them whispered.

  Michael could see the care the paramedics were taking with these seniors and made a mental note to praise them in the article. He’d have to get names, too. They deserved a medal for what they were doing.

  “I’m going back in there,” the first paramedic said. “They need every pair of hands.”

  Michael nodded and followed him into the room. It was a nightmare and it was all the worse because these people were too beaten down to even scream out their fear. Some of them sat on the floor, tears streaming down their cheeks. Others stood in corners, rocking back and forth, eyes staring, their faces blank. One woman stood in the middle of the room, sucking her thumb, and when the woman paramedic wrapped her in a blanket, smiled and said, “Mama.”

  For some reason, that one struck Michael the hardest. He turned on the recorder as they made their way out of the room, wanting to capture every moment of the heartbreaking scene. The old woman’s head was on the paramedic’s shoulder as the woman guided her gently to the stairs, talking softly to her all the while.

  The people that did this should be shot, Michael thought angrily. And how many more places were there like this scattered around the county? How many more seniors were in danger of losing their lives, or at the very least, being mistreated? They would probably never know, but at least they’d saved these folks.

  His father had been a firefighter and he always told his children that you couldn’t save the world. But you could save whoever was right in front of you. Well, these people were right in front of him, and Michael was going to do everything he could to save them. It wasn’t enough to just write the story. He’d volunteer at the hospital and do whatever he could to make up for what had happened to them.

  But now it was time to leave. He’d had his five minutes and more. Forbes and Carter weren’t waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. And they weren’t waiting for him at the back door either. He didn’t see them until they were coming back from an ambulance. They approached the back door and told Michael Chief wanted to see him. Then they helped the next senior to the ambulance so the paramedics could get back to working with the hostages.

  So, Michael thought, I’m not the only one affected by all this. Wouldn’t surprise me if a lot of these officers don’t end up volunteering at some facility or other.

  Michael was deep in thought, composing the story in his head, as he walked slowly to the command post. He wanted to get just the right slant on what had been going on to get the most sympathy for the seniors. Although the videos would probably do that all on their own.

  Finally, Michael reached the back of the SWAT van to see Chief waiting for him, a fierce expression on his face that he’d never seen before.

  “I’m in trouble, right?” Michael said sheepishly, all but toeing his sneaker in the dirt.

  “Trouble? I’d say so,” sneered Andy. “Just what do you think I could have said to your mother if you’d been killed out there? Not to mention your sister!”

  “Oh … I … uh …”

  “Damn right, boy. Now get on that fancy phone of yours and call your mother. She needs to know you’re not lying in the dirt riddled with bullets.”

  “Mom!” Michael squeaked. “How does she know I’m out here? You didn’t tell her, did you?”

  “Not me. Mia’s over at the house. She didn’t want to be alone in case a call came that you were dead.”

  “Oh, well, I did tell her not to tell anyone what was going on.”

  “Since when does your sister ever listen to you?”

  “Well, sometimes …”

  “Never!” Chief spat. “Now quit stalling and get on that phone.”

  “Yessir,” Michael said, tapping his mother’s photo. Chief sure knew how to take the starch out of a guy. In fact, he was muttering something about just like his father … a damn superhero complex.

  That cheered Michael up … at least until his mother picked up the phone. It was worse than getting a Howler from Mrs. Weasley.

  When Andy was sure Michael had been sufficiently chastised … the red staining his neck and cheeks was a sure sign … Andy took the phone to talk to his wife.

  “He’s fine, Cindy. Now don’t you worry. I’m giving him a police escort back home.”

  “Anyone killed?” Cindy asked anxiously.

  “Nobody killed, hon. Only one shot fired and it was Charlie Gordon got hit. He’s going to be fine.”

  “Then I’ll go over to the hospital. Laurie and Charles are going to need all the support they can get.”

  “Yes, Cindy.” Andy rolled his eyes. Knowing his wife, he probably wouldn’t see her again until she’d filled the Gordons’ freezer with food and Charlie was back home. “I’m sure the family could use the support. I’ll be here a while and then I have to go back to the station. I’ll call when I’m on my way home. Love you. Bye.” And Andy hung up the phone before Cindy could say another word. Or Mia for that matter. She’d been yelling in the background about something or other.

  Sutherland signaled to two of the officers to join them. “Take this boy home and don’t let
him leave the house until I say so.”

  “Uh, Chief, my car is at the station.”

  “You can get it in the morning,” Andy grinned. So much the better if Mikey didn’t have wheels. “Now off with you.”

  It didn’t matter. As long as he had his phone and his tablet, he didn’t need to go anywhere. Retrieving his bag from the squad car, Michael climbed into the back seat, trying to look as subdued as possible. It wouldn’t do for the officers to see the grin he’d been trying to hold inside break out onto his face.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mia fumed all the way to the hospital. The only thing she knew was that if it was Michael lying in that bed, either dead or dying, she would have killed him herself and enjoyed every minute of it. It was a good thing her mother was driving or Mia would have run them off the road.

  But it wasn’t Michael who’d been shot and nearly killed. It was Charlie Gordon who’d been so nice after her accident. In her concern for his recovery, Mia completely forgot that she’d ever thought of him as Officer Guard Dog.

  But when she got to the security station, she decided to visit Julie instead. Probably Ashley and her grandmother were there, too.

  “Mom, I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to visit Ju … Jane Doe. Just for a few minutes.”

  “That’s sweet of you, honey. You can meet me at Officer Gordon’s room later.”

  But that wasn’t so easy. It seemed visits to the ICU where Jane was being cared for were restricted. She’d have to be put on the list of approved visitors and she was advised to wait a day or two before trying again.

  Putting two and two together and knowing what was happening at the old Bronson place, Mia figured they’d put on extra security. With the network collapsing, the Pension Pinching Gang, as they’d been dubbed by Michael’s paper, might well be going after any witnesses.

  Not that the seniors they’d chosen to exploit were able to remember much. But these ruthless SOBs had proved themselves capable of murder and worse so maybe the extra security was a good thing.

  “How about Officer Gordon?” Mia asked.

  The security guard tapped a few keys and pulled up the officer’s records.

  “He’s critical but stable. You can’t get in to see him either, but his family is up there and you can sit with them in the visitors’ lounge.”

  “Thank you. We’ll do that,” Cindy told him, accepting the photo ID badge he’d given her.

  Once they were out of sight, Cindy muttered, “Honestly, these pictures make me look like a little old lady, half frozen to death in the Yukon.”

  “Mom, it’s not that bad,” Mia protested, but it was, and her photo wasn’t much better. She’d made the mistake of smiling and the angle of the camera made her look as if she was all teeth and squinting eyes.

  “This is the same picture they use every time I come here. If I thought they’d take a new one next time, I’d go to the hairdresser’s first.”

  “Is that how you looked when I was born, Mom?” Mia giggled.

  “Good Lord, I should hope not!” Cindy grimaced. “Although as you will someday find out, I hope, you definitely don’t look your best when you’re wracked with pain and ready to kill anyone who touches you.”

  “Even Dad?”

  “Especially Dad. It was his fault. You’ll find that out, too. It’s always the man’s fault.”

  “Come on, Mom, you didn’t hate Dad for it.”

  “No,” Cindy sighed. “Not once they’d put you in my arms and I watched your father look at you with tears in his eyes. You know, I don’t think he ever lost that joy whenever he saw you.”

  “Oh, Mom,” Mia gulped, blinking back the tears in her own eyes. She would always miss her father.

  “There are the Gordons. Poor Laurie. She looks devastated. I hope Charlie hasn’t taken a turn for the worse.”

  Cindy took a deep breath and went in to comfort the parents of the boy she’d known since he played football with her son. Speedy and Greedy, they’d called them, and she prayed to Heaven that God wouldn’t break up that fabulous team.

  “Laurie, Charles, I’m so sorry this has happened.” Cindy called softly. “They tell me Charlie is critical but stable.”

  “Yes, he … they told us …,” but Laurie couldn’t go on, her mother’s heart breaking for her son.

  “The surgeon came out and spoke to us,” Charles told them, holding his wife’s hand. “The bullet hit the upper arm, breaking the bone and sending fragments flying. Most of them lodged in the skin and muscle, but one nicked the artery. He nearly …”

  Now it was Charles that couldn’t go on.

  “But he didn’t,” Cindy told them firmly, gripping Charles’ shoulder. She’d been a fireman’s wife and now a police chief’s wife and knew that she had to stay positive for the sake of the worried family.

  “Now. Have you had anything to eat?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” Laurie protested.

  “But you must,” Cindy insisted. “When Charlie wakes up, he needs to see his mother and father strong enough to lend him their strength. I’m guessing he’s got a long recovery coming up.”

  “I’ll go get something from the cafeteria, shall I, Mom?” Mia offered.

  “Yes, honey. Coffee for all of us and something that will go down easy for Laurie and Charles.”

  “Chocolate pudding,” Mia nodded, hurrying away. She knew her mother was experienced at comforting families, but this was new to her and she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t break down in front of Charlie’s parents. That was the last thing she wanted and the last thing her mother would tolerate.

  By the time Mia got back with coffee, the promised chocolate pudding along with scrambled eggs and toast, the atmosphere in the room was lighter.

  “They’re moving Charlie from Surgery to Recovery,” Laurie said. “We’ll be able to see him for just a minute when they move him down the back corridor.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Mia exclaimed.

  “Go.” Cindy told them. “Then hurry back and tell us he’s going to be fine.”

  While they waited, Mia’s phone vibrated. “It’s Mikey. I’ll put him on speaker.”

  Mia’s use of the nickname told Cindy that her daughter had forgiven her brother and that made her happy.

  “Hello,” Mia said, frost in her voice.

  “Hey, Mims. I’m home and in one piece.”

  “I’m sure that’s no thanks to you being sensible and cautious.”

  “Look, the cops were concentrating on getting the seniors out alive. They didn’t have time to babysit me. I just did what any journalist would do when faced with the story of their life.”

  “If you had lived,” Mia muttered.

  “Son, I’m glad to hear you’re okay. Can you tell us how Charlie got hurt?”

  “Oh, well, uh … well, Chief delegated him to stay behind and give me a ride to the scene. When we got there, he told me to stay in the car and ran for cover. But I guess old Speedy isn’t as speedy as he used to be.”

  “And I’m guessing old Greedy ran after him, like always,” Mia barked.

  “I did,” Michael chuckled. “Old habits, you know. But listen, I was going to get him to the ambulance, but the paramedics got there first and carried him to safety. Those guys are unbelievable, Mims. But Mom knows all about that.”

  “Yes. Yes, I do. The paramedics and the firefighters are all about doing the job. Not that they don’t take all precautions for their own safety … you can’t rescue anyone if you’re under a pile of rubble yourself … but when it comes down to it, the victims come first.”

  All three were silent for a minute, thinking of Mike Broderick’s death. That’s what he was all about, too.

  “Okay,” Michael said, taking a shaky breath and breaking the silence. “I really called to find out how Charlie is, and could I come and visit him.”

  “Critical but stable, they tell us, and he’s just coming out of surgery now. They’re letting his parents see him, but no o
ne will be able to get into ICU when they move him there. Apparently, they have it locked down tight. I’m guessing it’s because of the seniors,” Mia said.

  “Probably Chief’s orders or if not him, the FBI.”

  “Hold on, Mikey,” Mia told him. “The Gordons are coming back.” Mia held the phone up, hoping Michael could hear what they had to say.

  “He’s so pale,” Laurie rasped, her throat dry with both the tears she had shed and those she hadn’t.

  “Now, Laurie,” Charles soothed her, “you know the doc said he’d lost a lot of blood.” He turned to Cindy and Mia, telling them they’d had to give Charlie a transfusion.

  “Normal under the circumstances,” Cindy assured them. “Was he able to speak? Did he recognize you?”

  “Yes, to both,” Charles replied with a grin. “He said, Guess old Speedy’ll never live this one down.”

  “Typical guy,” Cindy chuckled. “Now eat. We’ll wait with you until they let you in to see him.”

  * * *

  Back at the station, Corwin and Brown kept the two prisoners separated. One was in the only conference room and the other was in a cell. But they had two reasons for holding off on interrogating the men. First, it wouldn’t hurt to let them sweat a bit. And second, it might be a good idea to have more cops to keep an eye on them.

  Chief Sutherland had already called to let them know the hostages were on their way to the hospital and CSU was on scene. He was leaving behind a few officers to stand guard in case any other members of the gang showed up, but he and Officers Forbes and Carter with Chief Patterson were headed back in.

  Corwin and Brown stood a little away from the conference room door so they could keep an eye on the prisoner. He was handcuffed to the table leg, but they weren’t taking any chances.

  “What do you think, Kev?” Paul whispered, careful to keep his voice down so the prisoner wouldn’t hear him. “We go at them hard?”

  “I don’t think so,” Kevin replied, shaking his head. “We caught them red-handed and with unregistered firearms.”

  “Which in any rural community isn’t unusual,” Paul pointed out.

 

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