“What happened? Where am I?” Brent’s glasses had been knocked askew, and his eyes were glassy. He sounded like he’d woken up from a nap mere moments before. That wasn’t the worst of it, though. His shirt was stained with almost as much blood as Ollie’s.
“You fell?” Panic bubbled up inside me as I looked him over. Frantically, I started patting him all over, desperate to find any sign of injury.
“Allie.” Gabe put his hand on my shoulder. “Get help.”
My heart stopped for a moment when I looked at Gabe. Both of his hands were now pressing down on Ollie’s chest like one did to apply pressure on a serious wound.
“Mom,” I shouted at the top of my lungs, hoping she was within hearing range. “Over here. Now.”
From out of nowhere, Luke was at my side. His phone was to his ear. He had to shout to be heard among the uproar surrounding us.
“Yes, Memorial Park. Under the Memory Tree. Someone’s been injured.” His eyes went wide as he looked over my shoulder at Ollie and Gabe. “There’s a lot of blood.”
The second he finished the call, he put his hand on Sloane’s shoulder. Evidently, she’d been right on my heels. “Find Mom and get her here. Go.”
As Sloane sprinted off, Brent got to his feet. He straightened his glasses, then took a moment to take in the pandemonium. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s been an accident.” I left it at that as I eased him into a sitting position. Until EMS checked him out, that’s all he needed to know. “Help’ll be here soon. Sit tight.”
I turned my attention to Gabe. “What can I do?”
“Get the scene secured as much as we can. I need all hands on deck. Text Jeanette. I need to coordinate with her.”
Like an angel from heaven, Mom arrived and went straight to Ollie’s side. She rarely found herself in emergency situations. She was an excellent doctor with disaster relief experience, though. There was no hesitation as she assessed Ollie’s condition.
It didn’t take a doctor to see the situation was grim, though.
A few minutes later, two paramedics arrived. After conferring with Mom, they got to work on Ollie. A pressure bandage was applied. His airway was cleared. An IV line was inserted. Once he was stabilized, they hoisted him up on a gurney.
“How is he?” I asked Mom as they hustled Ollie to the ambulance.
“He’s alive, but it doesn’t look good.” She used a bottle of water to rinse Ollie’s blood off her hands. “Let me take a look at Brent.”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Cobb.” He held up his hands. “Really. A bump on the head, nothing more. Sammy’s hurt, though. I need to get him to the vet.”
“On it.” I dialed up our vet friend Cammy Flanagan. Meanwhile, Mom checked Brent for signs of a concussion.
While I waited for her to pick up, I scanned the scene. Among the madness, Jeanette was using our tiki torches to mark off the area. Tommy Abbott and another officer were attempting to manage the crowd. Calypso was in a discussion with Angela Miller, our mayor, and Kim Frye, a reporter for the local paper, the Brown County Beacon. She was struggling to keep Sammy still.
“What’s going on, Allie?” Cammy asked in a cheerful tone. A lack of background noise indicated she wasn’t at the park.
“Bad stuff. Someone’s been shot and Sammy got hurt in the aftermath. I think he broke his leg. Can we bring him in?”
Her tone turned serious. “I’ll be at the clinic in fifteen minutes.”
The park was in a state of chaos. It had only been a few minutes since Brent had drawn the grand prize ticket, after all. The police were beginning to get the upper hand, though. Officers from the Brown County Sheriff’s Department were arriving and taking the lead on clearing the area in an orderly fashion.
Sticking around, even for another minute, wouldn’t help. Once Mom gave me the go-ahead, I grabbed Brent by the hand and told him we needed to go. His head seemed to have cleared because he headed straight for his dog without a moment’s hesitation.
Brent picked Sammy up, no easy task since the dog weighed about seventy pounds and had been wriggling around in pain. Once in his human’s arms, though, he settled down. Even in times of crisis, the human-canine connection was a thing of beauty.
I gave Calypso a quick update and told her where we were going.
“I’ll make sure she gets home safe,” Kim said. “We got this. Go.”
We weaved our way through the park at high speed, Brent shouting at people at the top of his lungs to clear a path every few seconds. His long strides made it a challenge to keep up, but his height and commanding voice cleared the way so effectively, we reached the park’s edge in no time.
“There’s my truck.” Brent had parked on a side street two blocks from the park. He’d chosen the spot to avoid getting caught up in the flood of foot and vehicular traffic that would be leaving the park when the fireworks show was over.
I sent up a prayer of thanks for his foresight.
“You hold on to Sammy,” I said when we reached the vehicle. Now that we were away from the crowd, Sammy’s whimpers had become noticeable. The way he was pawing at Brent, practically begging his human to make him feel better, left no doubt the poor thing was in a serious amount of pain. “I’ll drive.”
Normally, I hated driving Brent’s truck. While it was ideal for his tall, lanky frame, it was tough for me. Tonight, it didn’t matter. Once they were buckled up in the passenger seat, I got us moving with no regard whatsoever for speed limits.
My fiancé’s dog was hurt. My fiancé had only escaped injury due to dumb luck. Their conditions were the result of someone shooting Ollie Watson. I shook my head as we took a turn at a four-way stop. Question after question circled around inside my head until one overwhelmed the others.
Why did Ollie get shot?
That question, and all the others, were put on hold when the sign for the animal clinic came into view. The lights were on. Our veterinarian friend was standing in the doorway, a dog transport stretcher leaning against her hip.
The moment the truck’s wheels stopped turning, she got to work. By the time I had the passenger side door open, she was by my side with the stretcher ready.
“Brent, when I count to three, slide out of the truck and place Sammy on the stretcher, injured side up. Then, hold him in place while I get him strapped in. Allie, you go ahead and make sure the doors are open. I’ll do my initial exam in the X-ray lab. Ready?”
I waited by the truck until the dog was on the stretcher, then sprinted toward the building. My pulse was racing as I led the charge through the reception area, down the hall, and into the room where the dog would be treated.
My chest heaved as Cammy and Brent passed and lowered Sammy on an exam table. Frankie, one of Cammy’s techs, joined us and assisted in getting the poor thing, who was writhing in pain, in position to conduct an initial examination.
With my work done for the moment, I returned to the truck. Once I had the doors locked, I called Rachel. She was at Holiday World Family Fun Park with her twins, Theresa and Tristain, and her ex-husband, Matt. They were spending a long weekend together to give their kids a few days of fun.
Matt was also the Rushing Creek Chief of Police. I wanted to make sure he was aware of the night’s awful events.
“What’s the latest?” she asked. “Matt got a call about a shooting. Was one of his officers really shot?”
“Afraid so.” I ran my free hand through my hair. “It all happened so fast. One second, Brent was picking up the grand prize ticket he dropped. The next second, Ollie collapsed on top of him.”
Matt came on the line. “We’re on our way home now. Any idea where the shot came from?”
“No. Fireworks had been going off for a while. God, I feel awful about this. How can I help?”
“Ollie’s in good hands at the hospital. Prayers wouldn’t hurt, though. Tommy Abbott’s on point until I get home. If he gets in touch, please give him your cooperation. Since Brent was right there, we’ll need to talk to him ASAP.”
“Absolutely.” I told him where we were. “We’re waiting for a report from Cammy. I’ll let him know you want to talk to him.”
It was late. Driving through the windy, twisty Southern Indiana hills during the daytime was not for the faint of heart. Doing it at night was enough to send one’s blood pressure through the roof. I ended the call by admonishing Matt to take his time and drive safe. The awful situation would only be made worse if he crashed because of taking a bend in the road too fast.
I texted Mom and Luke to let them know where I was while I walked back into the clinic. Since I’d disappeared without so much as a goodbye, I wanted to assure them Brent and I were okay.
At least physically.
Brent looked up from a chair he’d taken in the reception area. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. His cheeks were streaked from tears. In response to my wave, he sniffed and dabbed at the corners of his eyes with a tissue.
“How is he?” I put my arm around Brent as I sat beside him.
“He’ll live, but that’s all they’d tell me before they pushed me out here.” His hands trembled as he removed his glasses. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Sammy had been Brent’s companion since long before I came into their lives. The canine was loyal, friendly, playful, smart—all the things one could hope for in a dog. He was fearless, too. It wasn’t a stretch to say that I owed my life to Sammy and could totally empathize with Brent’s distress.
“The best vet in Southern Indiana is looking after him. He’ll be up and around in no time. You can count on it.”
Brent smiled but didn’t say anything. I got the sense that he didn’t want to get his hopes up in case Sammy had suffered internal injuries. Plus, to be in the middle of that pile . . .
I shuddered.
“Give me your shirt.” I grabbed one of the T-shirts the clinic had for sale and tossed it to him.
“Why?”
“It’s got blood on it. I want to wash it out before it sets.” While that was true, I also needed something to do. With adrenaline flowing through my system like a kayaker shooting the rapids, sitting still was not an option. If Brent wanted to throw the shirt away later, I was totally cool with that.
For now, I needed him to let me do something.
I was in the utility closet, scrubbing at the shirt, when Cammy emerged from the operating room. Her eyes went wide when she saw what I was doing, but she didn’t comment. It was a kindness for which I was thankful.
“You want to come with?” She stripped off her operating gown. Thank goodness there was no blood on it. “I’m going to give Brent a report.”
“Is it good news?” I turned the faucet off.
“All things considered, I’d say so.”
A wave of relief rolled through me. I glanced at my watch. It was after eleven. I’d been in full reaction mode for ninety minutes straight. And was ready to hear something positive.
Brent rose to his feet when we entered the reception area. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
“How is he?”
“Sammy’s fine.” Cammy took Brent’s hand as she guided him back to his seat. “His right rear leg is fractured. It was a clean break, so I was able to put a cast on it. Other than that, he’s in tip-top shape.”
“Whew.” Brent closed his eyes as he rubbed his temples. “Can I see him?”
“Sure. He hasn’t come out of sedation yet, so don’t be surprised if he doesn’t respond.”
We followed Cammy into a recovery room. With each step, the heavy cloud of anxiety and despair lifted a little. At least in my little world, things were going to be okay.
Brent stopped at the doorway for a moment, then crossed the room in two long steps. He wrapped his arms around his beloved doggo and alternated between speaking to him in quiet tones and kissing him on the head.
Sammy was on his side, snoring ever so slightly. If it wasn’t for the fabric wrap on his leg, I would have thought he was napping.
Frankie was in the corner of the room, typing away on a tablet. I sidled over to her. “I can’t thank you and Cammy enough for this. Y’all are amazing.”
She chuckled. “Thank you. I like to think we have our moments. Honestly, I was at home watching TV when the doc called. I’m not a fan of fireworks and was waiting for them to quiet down so I could go to bed.”
“Well, regardless of the circumstances, I appreciate it.” I glanced at Brent, who was in conversation with Cammy. “We appreciate it.”
“Do you really have to keep him overnight?” Brent asked Cammy. “What if he wakes up and gets upset because he doesn’t know where he is?”
“Don’t worry. Frankie and I will be here for a while to make sure he’s all settled in. Staff will be here by seven. He’ll sleep all night and you can take him home tomorrow morning.”
“If you say so.” Brent blew out a long breath and rubbed his temples again.
I couldn’t help wondering if he’d bonked his head harder than he was letting on. I’d make him stay the night at my place. That way, I could keep an eye on him. Just to be on the safe side.
After a round of thanks to Cammy and Frankie and a few more hugs from Brent to Sammy, we made our way out the door. It was midnight. Now that the immediate crisis had passed, exhaustion began nipping at me.
“Holy cats, what a day.” I pressed the button to unlock the truck’s doors. “How about you crash at my place tonight. Save you the trouble of dropping me off, then going home.”
“Sure.” He let out a long yawn. “Now that I know Sammy’s going to be okay, I feel like I could sleep for a week.”
“I know the feeling.” Cammy had taken care of Ursi after she’d gotten into a tussle with an unfriendly human a few months ago. It had been a terrifying experience, but the vet had my kitty back to normal in a few days.
After stifling my own yawn, I put the truck in gear. We were almost out of the parking lot when my phone’s ringtone went off. It was Mom. We exchanged a quick greeting, then I gave her an update on Sammy.
“That’s good.” She took a deep breath. “Hon, I have some awful news. The doctors tried their best, but the damage was too severe. Ollie Watson died a few minutes ago.”