AMBER
Amber was tired and needed to sleep, but she was determined to make her time with her son count. She looked in her rearview mirror as she talked to Gage about his playmates in school and what he was learning. “What does a cow say?”
“Moooooo!”
She laughed. “That’s great. Do you know what a horse says?”
He did a three-year-old’s impression of a whinny.
“That’s excellent.”
Avoiding traffic on some of the major thoroughfares, she turned her car into a residential neighborhood, which was her usual route to Gage’s preschool.
She came to a four-way-stop behind two other cars. They were most likely avoiding rush hour traffic, too.
Amber looked back at Gage. “What sound does a duck make?”
“Quack, quack.” The boy giggled.
The first car went through the intersection, and as she pulled forward, the car moving perpendicular made a left turn. The driver apparently didn’t see the man riding a bicycle across the juncture. He hit the bicyclist, causing him to roll across the hood of the car and fall to the ground.
The driver completed his turn and pulled to the curb.
“Oh!” Amber threw her car in park and sprinted toward the downed man. As she ran past the vehicle stopped in front of her car, she yelled, “Call 911.” Amber knelt beside the man who had been struck. He looked to be in his early twenties. “Lie still. We have an ambulance coming.”
The driver who’d hit the man came running. “He waved for me to make my turn!” He looked at the downed man. “Hey, man, I’m really sorry.”
The bicyclist groaned and pushed into a sitting position. “I…I think I’m okay.”
Amber shook her head. “Lie still until the paramedics get here.”
“I’ve got some water in my car,” said the driver and jogged back to his car.
Other drivers pulled to the curb and got out to see if they could help. Most vehicles slowly drove past the accident.
A woman with short gray hair and glasses knelt beside Amber. “I’m a retired nurse. Let me take a look at him.”
Amber nodded and looked for the driver who’d hit the downed man. “I’ll be right back,” she said, pushing herself to her feet, and glancing toward her car before spotting the errant driver standing off to the side. The driver was also young, and he bit his lip and watched anxiously as others tended to the bicyclist, but she wanted his ID in case he decided to leave the accident scene.
As she approached, the driver locked eyes with hers. “Is he going to be all right?”
“I’m not sure. He’s talking, and that’s always a good sign.” She closed the distance between them. “I’m an off-duty police officer. Do you have your driver’s license?”
“Uh, sure.” The kid pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and removed his license. “Here’s my insurance, too.”
While they interacted, Amber watched carefully for any signs he might be impaired by alcohol or drugs. She didn’t see anything suspicious.
She automatically reached for her left breast pocket where she kept FI cards, but she realized she was in a T-shirt and jeans—not her uniform. “I’m sorry. I need to go to my car a get something to write on. I’ll be right back.”
“No problem,” the young man said.
Amber heard an approaching siren in the distance. She’d bet money it was the RA—rescue ambulance—and hurried to her car. She’d jot down the guy’s info and hand it over to the black-and-white unit when they arrived. Quick and easy, because I know Gage must be wondering what’s going on. Smiling, she opened the driver’s door, ready to reassure her son they would be on their way in no time, and looked in the back seat.
Gage’s car seat was empty.