| |
The next morning, after a restless night wondering why Bryce had gone from hot to sub-zero, Cecily took her place at the desk in the Dispatch office. “Anything I need to know about?” she asked Lois, one of the night shift dispatchers.
“Quiet,” Lois said. “The usual speeders and DUIs on the Cripple Creek routes, but no accidents.”
Cecily reviewed the log, noting the officers she’d have to follow if they didn’t check in, along with who was going off and coming on shift. “Got it. Have a good one.”
Lois left, and Cecily slipped on her headset. Mornings tended to be slow, but when an officer reported picking up a group of homeless men sleeping in the park, she thought of Grady. Could they be candidates for Helping Through Horses?
Too soon. There will be more. Too many more. The thought saddened her.
She and Kim, her dispatch partner, fielded more routine calls, more checking on officers, more giving people the right department to call for answers to their questions. For Cecily, more wondering whether she and Bryce could ever get along.
Around ten, a flash of motion at the doorway caught her eye, and she glanced around to see Andy Markham holding a sheet of paper. He strode to her desk and set it down. “The inventory report you asked for.”
“Thanks. I’d forgotten all about it.” She waited, wondering if he was going to follow up on yesterday—either the lunch or the dead steer—but he seemed to be waiting her out as well.
“Not what I expected,” he said, chinning toward the paper in her hand.
Cecily scanned the short list of items. An Iron Maiden t-shirt, black. A travel toothbrush, green. Cash in the amount of five dollars and seventy-three cents. Four paperback books. Dune, Maltese Falcon, The Deep Blue Good-Bye, and A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. She recalled how Grady seemed to enjoy reading, so she wasn’t surprised to see books among his possessions. She wondered if they were new to him or favorites he liked to reread.
“I appreciate it. I’ll let Grady know they’re safe and ask if he wants them. If so, I’ll drive down to Falcon Station on my next day off.”
“Which would be?” Andy asked.
Okay, so he was following up on yesterday’s lunch.
She smiled, not ready to go further, but not wanting to hurt his feelings. Or was she keeping her options open? “Wednesday, but I have a bunch of errands to run in the Springs.” She added the sure-fire way to have any man beg off. “I’ve got to hit the mall. I’m behind in shopping.”
True to his chromosomal makeup, he said he had to work Wednesday, but maybe some other time.
“Maybe,” she said. Rescued by a call before things got awkward, she lifted a finger and answered. By the time she’d fielded the question, he’d gone back to work.
“You could do worse,” Kim said.
So, Cecily hadn’t been imagining Andy’s interest. Trouble was, she wanted better. Better than what? That was the question.
She’d promised Bryce she’d head for the ranch after her shift to work with Grady and Ginger, so she tamped back her impatience with what she referred to as lazy ditzes—people who thought 911 was the do all and end all for solving problems. “I’ll transfer you to the courthouse, ma’am.” “You’ll need to call the jail to talk to an inmate, sir. I’ll transfer you, but here’s the number for next time.” “No, we can’t help you move your husband’s effects out of your house.”
Through all the calls, she hadn’t picked up any traffic about slaughtered cattle, so maybe what had transpired yesterday had been two isolated cases. Maybe whoever had done it had had his fun. Or maybe they’d decided to take their sick jokes elsewhere.
Less than an hour to go, and the calls had dropped off to almost nothing. Like grain filling a silo, thoughts of ways to approach Bryce filled her brain. Cecily was tempted to ask her dispatch cohorts if they’d mind covering for her, but she’d finish her shift. She’d save calling in a favor for something genuinely important, not boredom. Or Bryce issues.
When Andy came in chinning her toward the door, Cecily motioned to Kim that she’d be taking a quick break. “You have something?” she asked.
“I expanded the search for cattle killings,” he said. “The two your brother mentioned are the only ones reported in this county, but there have been more. No discernible pattern. Sometimes steers, sometimes heifers. Sometimes one on a ranch, other ranches have reported up to three. Also, if it’s one perpetrator, he’s going back and forth, zig-zagging across the state.”
“Any leads?” she asked.
Andy shook his head. “Whoever this guy is, he’s managed to elude both the ranchers and law enforcement. As I said, there’s no pattern to his attacks, and ranch property is extensive.”
Cecily gave a half-hearted smile. “Unless it really is aliens.”
Andy rolled his eyes. “I’ll look out for little green men.”
And she’d let Derek know as soon as she got off shift.
When the 911 line rang seconds later, she prepared herself for yet another lazy ditz. “What is the nature of your emergency?”
“My daddy fell down,” was a child’s tearful response. “He won’t get up.”
Cecily’s heart rate ratcheted. She checked the address on the display and pulled it up on the map. Damn. The home was in the middle of nowhere. One of the new subdivisions that hadn’t been digitized yet. A red pin in a sea of white. She had no officers nearby.
“Okay. My name is Cecily. Can you tell me your name?” she asked, trying to calm the child down, give it questions he—or she?—couldn’t tell from the voice—could answer.
“Suzie.”
“Good. Now, Suzie. What happened to your daddy? Did he fall off something?”
“No, he fell down. He said, ‘Call 911’ and then he fell down.”
“Can he talk to you? Go ask him. I’ll wait. I won’t hang up.”
Cecily rolled paramedics and the nearest officer, but she was afraid it would be at least fifteen minutes before anyone could get there. Minimum. If Daddy had a heart attack, he might not survive. Kim took over police and paramedic communications, leaving Cecily to stay with Suzie.
The little girl came back on the line. “He won’t talk to me.”
“How old are you, Suzie?”
“Four-going-on-five.”
“You’re a big girl, then. Is there anyone else in the house with you?”
“No. My mommy is at work and my daddy is staying with me.”
“Do you know where your mommy works?” Cecily asked.
“At the office.”
“Do you know the name of the office?”
“Yes. It’s called ‘the office’. I told you.” A hint of childlike indignation at adults who didn’t understand bled through her fear.
So much for calling the wife for a medical history. “Okay, Suzie, can you take the phone close to your daddy?”
“Okay, but I told you, he can’t talk.”
“I know, sweetie, but it’s better if you’re close to him. Can you hear if he’s breathing?”
“Yes. It’s funny breathing.”
Breathing was good. “Try talking to him again. Shake him, but just a little bit.”
Cecily heard a clunk as Suzie put the phone down. “Daddy. Wake up. Please. I’m scared.” A silence. “He won’t wake up. He won’t talk.”
“Suzie, I have firemen and paramedics—they’re like doctors—and deputies—they’re special policemen—on their way. They’ll help your daddy. You can talk to me while you wait. You can talk to your daddy, too. He might be asleep, but he might be able to hear you. Tell him you love him and help is coming.”
Another clunk. “I love you, Daddy.” A loud kiss. “He still won’t wake up.”
“I know. Suzie, if you put your head on his shirt, can you feel him breathing? Is his chest moving up and down?”
Clunk. “Yes. It goes fast, then slow. Is he going to die, Cecily?”
Much as it pained her, Cecily couldn’t lie to the little girl, so she ducked the question. She checked the ETA for the responders. “Suzie, a deputy is going to be at your house real soon. Is your door unlocked?”
“I don’t know.”
“I want you to go to the door real fast and open it. Bring the phone with you. Then listen for sirens.”
Sniff. “Okay.”
Tiny, rapid footfalls. The snick of the lock. Cecily gave thanks Suzie was old enough to know how to work the door.
“Should I wait outside?” Suzie asked. “I don’t hear sirens. When are they coming?”
The trembling in Suzie’s voice ripped at Cecily’s heart. “They’re coming, Suzie, I promise.”
“I hear them! I hear them!” Then another clunk, a louder one. Suzie must have dropped the phone in her excitement.
“Suzie. Pick up the phone, sweetie.”
Nothing.
The next two minutes lasted two lifetimes, but at last, Cecily heard the reassuring words of Deputy Youngblood come through her headset.
“Hi, Suzie. I’m Deputy Youngblood. Show me where your daddy is.”
A scraping sound, and then Suzie’s voice came over the phone. “The deppity is here, Cecily.”
“You did a good job, sweetie. You can be near your daddy, but let the deputy do his work, okay?”
“Can he fix my daddy?”
“He’s going to do the right things, and the paramedics will be there real soon.”
“I hear more sirens, Cecily.” A long moment later, Suzie came on the line. “They’re here! They’re here!”
“They’ll take good care of your daddy,” Cecily said. “You can hang up now.”
“No! I need you to talk to me.”
While the other dispatcher listened in on the paramedics’ transmissions, Cecily waited on the line, reassuring Suzie and hearing all about the girl’s new dress, her wish for a puppy, and how she was going to take ballet lessons one day.
“The deppity wants to talk to you,” Suzie said.
Deputy Youngblood’s deep voice was a marked contrast to Suzie’s high-pitched tones. “Suzie’s mom works in the Springs, and she’s on her way. I’m going to stay with Suzie until she gets here.”
“He said I could have a teddy bear.” Suzie’s excited squeal came through loud and clear. Officers carried the stuffed toys for occasions like this one, and Cecily promised herself she’d buy a dozen to donate to the department.
Youngblood gave Suzie the phone again. “You helped my daddy. Thank you.”
Cecily sure as hell hoped she had. She blinked away tears as she ended the call and a round of applause filled the room. She turned, only then aware the room had filled with deputies and unsworns.
“Good job, Cecily,” her supervisor said.
Cecily shrugged while she wiped her eyes and composed herself. “It’s what we do.”
Her supervisor stood over Cecily’s desk. “Everything’s under control. You can go home now.”
Home. No, the ranch. Grady. Ginger. She checked the time. She’d never get to the ranch before dark.
She grabbed her cell phone and called Bryce. “Something came up at work. I’m not going to be able to make it.”
A prolonged silence.
“Bryce?”
“Suit yourself.”
“You don’t understand—”
The line went dead.