Chapter Nine

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Tori said, joining Wil and Ethan at the nurses’ station. “Wil, can I speak with you for a minute? It’s about your overdose patient.”

The woman had come in an hour ago. Luckily, the hits she’d taken hadn’t been that big and she’d come around after only two doses of naloxone. The second she was alert and talking, Tori had spoken with her privately about meeting with Deck. Now, the coffee she’d just drank gurgled in her stomach. Wil wouldn’t like what she was about to say.

Better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission.

“Leslie Batista?”

“Yes. Let’s talk in the lounge.” Without waiting for a response, she started walking to the lounge. Over her shoulder, she caught Ethan’s gaze following them and looking none-to-happy. The upbeat demeanor he’d arrived here with two years ago after graduating from Temple University’s med school in Philadelphia seemed to have vanished. North Metro had already taken a toll on the young man. Not for the first time, she considered speaking with Wil about Ethan, but one issue at a time.

Once inside the lounge with the door closed, Wil raised a brow. “Why the cloak and dagger?”

“I need to discuss something with you privately.”

“Okay.” He leaned back against the kitchenette counter. “Something tells me I’m not going to like it.”

“Probably not.” Her stomach lurched again. “I spoke with your patient.”

“What about?”

“I asked her if she would be willing to speak to the DEA about where she bought her drugs.”

Wil’s forehead creased. “You shouldn’t have done that and certainly not without consulting me. It’s unethical. I thought we were a team.”

Tori shook her head. “Technically, it’s not unethical. But I agree, since she’s your patient and you and I are friends, I should have spoken with you before I did it.” She’d known Wil wouldn’t approve, but from his expression, he was royally ticked. More than she’d expected.

“Then why did you?”

“I already told you that DEA agent, Deck—Special Agent Decker—wanted me to notify him anytime an opioid OD, particularly a gray death OD, came into the ER so that he could speak with them about where they bought the drugs.”

“And you agreed to this?”

“I did. The hospital administration approved my request. He’ll be here any minute.”

Wil pursed his lips. “Why didn’t you just ask me first? This isn’t like you, at all, and I’m shocked that you’d do this behind my back.”

“No more shocked than I was,” she admitted. Partnering with Deck dug up all kinds of guilt.

The distraught look on her mother’s face the day DEA agents had taken her dad away in handcuffs flashed front and center, and that was only the beginning. Six months in a federal prison had left a lasting mark on her father’s soul. Her mother’s, too. After the fine had been paid and the lawyers siphoned off their share, her dad was forced to shut down his business. By court order. Financial hardship had nearly destroyed her family.

But helping the DEA wasn’t why she’d partnered with Deck. She’d done it to help save people.

“I’m worried about you,” Wil said. “I know you’re still upset about that boy who died. Just promise me you’ll be careful working with the DEA.”

He probably wouldn’t want to hear that she’d gone with Deck on a search warrant. She hadn’t told anyone at the hospital about that. Not even Suzie. “I regret not asking you before speaking with your patient. I promise I won’t do it again.” Not if it meant destroying her friendship with Wil. Nothing would be worth that.

Wil seemed to relax. “At least, let me be there with you when this agent speaks with my patient. Maybe I can help.”

“Thank you,” she said, knowing how good Wil was with patients. “That would be great.”

Wil tapped his watch, an old leather wristwatch his father had given him. “We’d better go.”

As they left the lounge and headed back to the ER, relief swept over her. She never should have doubted Wil’s support in the first place.

“Dr. Barnett?” Suzie pointed to ER 4, meaning a new case had come in and Wil was next up on rotation.

Wil groaned. “I’ll be right there,” he said to Suzie. “Fill me in later?” he said over his shoulder then headed into the examining room.

“I will,” she called after him, then went to meet Deck.

At the admin desk, three nurses stood with their heads together, whispering like teenage girls as they stared at something down the hall.

“What’s going on?” Tori asked, joining them.

“Him,” one of them said, pointing. “He’s what’s going on.”

Just inside the ER doors, a boy about nine years old and wearing a Rockies baseball cap sat on a stretcher. In one hand, he clutched a mitt to his chest. His other arm was in a sling. The kid was adorable, but that wasn’t what had caught the nurses’ undivided attention. On one side of the stretcher stood a woman Tori presumed was the boy’s mother and on the other side were Deck and Thor.

Dressed in what she now knew was typical for him—black tactical pants and matching polo shirt with the DEA badge and K-9 Unit insignia—Deck was a formidable sight. The ever-present handgun strapped to his right side completed the fearsome image. The man really was handsome with a capital H. No wonder the nurses were staring. Now that Tori had seen him, even she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

Deck leaned in to talk to the boy, whose eyes were red, and his shoulders shook as he strived valiantly not to cry.

“Tori.” Deck waved her over.

The moment Thor caught sight of her, his tail began whipping back and forth.

“Hello, Thor.” The dog wore a vest around his body with a DEA badge on both sides. She leaned down to scratch his ears and let him lick her chin. “It’s always nice to see your happy, furry face, although I’m not sure you should be in the emergency room.” The reprimand was, of course, meant for Deck.

“Morning,” he said, ignoring the hint, and when he smiled, her belly fluttered. Worse, he smelled good. All citrusy and fresh. Please, not me, too. Did all federal agents smell this good? “This is Dylan and his mom, Andrea,” he said. “This is Dr. Sampson.”

“Hello, Dr. Sampson,” the boy’s mother said, smiling grimly.

“H-hi.” A tear rolled down Dylan’s cheek, and it was all Tori could do not to wipe it away herself and give him a big hug.

“Dylan’s a big baseball fan, aren’t you?” The boy nodded. “He fell from his bike on the way to practice, and it sounds like he may have broken his arm. Now he’s worried that he won’t be able to play ball for a while.”

Again, Dylan nodded, and when his lower lip started trembling, Deck rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I broke my arm when I was kid, too. It hurt a lot, but it healed up just fine and I was back to playing ball in no time. Dylan’s being very brave about all this.”

“I can see that,” Tori agreed. She could also see the positive effect Deck was having on the boy. As if someone had flipped a switch, Dylan’s shoulders stopped shaking and his lip stopped trembling.

Deck pulled something that looked like a deck of cards from his pocket.

“Are those baseball cards?” Dylan set the mitt in his lap and pointed.

“Kind of.” Deck handed one of the cards to the boy, returning the rest of the stack to his pocket. “It’s a K-9 trading card. It has a picture of Thor, and it tells you all about him. What kind of breed he is, what his specialty is, and what he likes to do for fun.”

Dylan looked at the card, turning it over to read what was on the back. “Does he do tricks for fun?”

“He sure does.” Deck looked at Thor. “Thor, up.” To Tori’s astonishment, Thor rose on his hind legs in front of the stretcher, standing straight up and hovering there. “Spin.” Deck twirled his finger, and Thor began turning in circles.

Dylan laughed. Beside him, his mother looked on, sending Deck a grateful smile.

“Wow,” Dylan said, reaching out to touch Thor’s outstretched paws.

“Cool, huh?” Deck said.

“Really cool.” Dylan grinned.

“Down, boy.” Thor lowered his front paws to the floor then uttered a low snort. “Tell you what.” Deck pulled something else from one of his thigh pockets, handing them to Dylan. “These are four tickets to Family Night at Coors Field. You can go see the Rockies in person.”

“Wowww. For me?” Deck nodded, and the boy’s eyes practically popped from his head. “Thanks, Deck.”

“Thank you.” His mother blinked rapidly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was my pleasure,” Deck said. “Every kid should see the Rockies play in person at least once.”

Behind them, someone cleared their throat, and Tori turned to see Ethan looking on with an amused expression. Ethan must have been assigned the boy’s case and was waiting to examine him.

“I think someone’s waiting to take a look at that arm,” she said to Dylan. “You’re going to be playing ball again in no time.”

“Stay brave, my man.” Deck held up his fist, and when Dylan fist-bumped him back, Tori couldn’t stop smiling at the gesture and Deck’s kindness to the boy.

Deck and Thor fell in step beside her as she led the way to Leslie Batista’s room. “That was very sweet what you did back there.” And very much like what he’d done with Amy on the raid. She began to suspect that beneath all that body armor and muscles lay a heart of gold.

“We saw Dylan and his mom coming in. The kid looked so upset we thought he needed a little cheering up. And don’t be mad with me for sneaking Thor into the ER. In addition to being the best drug dog in the state, he’s also a certified therapy dog.”

“I didn’t know that.” Along with not knowing what a soft spot Deck obviously had for kids.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” The corner of his mouth lifted, and her belly did that same annoying fluttering thing.

“Um.” She had to shake her head to clear it. Any of her body parts fluttering over this guy was so not good. “We’re here.” She led the way into Leslie Batista’s room, momentarily hesitating. Neil Shibowsky, the hospital’s cardiac surgeon, sat at the foot of the bed. Leslie was laughing at something Neil had said.

“Dr. Shibowsky?” Tori shot Neil a questioning look. “I didn’t know Dr. Barnett had called for a cardiac consult.”

“Leslie and I were just chatting.” Neil took his sweet time getting off the bed. “I’ll come back and check on you later.” He winked at Leslie before leaving the room.

“Good morning,” Deck said, taking immediate charge. “Thank you for speaking with me.” He held out his hand to Leslie.

Leslie was barely nineteen and had come in with a moderate overdose. Color was already back in her cheeks, and the prognosis was good. Catching sight of Deck, Leslie flipped back her thick blond curls and managed to sit up straighter. Her gaze drifted down then up Deck’s tall, muscular form.

“Good morning to you, too.” Leslie smiled appreciatively, taking Deck’s hand and holding it, in Tori’s opinion, far longer than necessary. Tori had already discovered that, when not under the influence of opioids, Ms. Batista was not only quite pretty but no shy flower. “I’m happy to help any way I can.”

“Great.” As Deck extricated his hand, Tori was reminded of the moment when he’d been helping her put on the body armor vest. His fingers had inadvertently grazed the side of her breast, sending chills up and down her spine and heat to her face. Get real, girl. He was so far outside her comfort zone, the only thing she should be thinking about where he was concerned was their business relationship. Anything else was preposterous.

“I know you want to get out of here, so let’s get started.” Deck took out a small pad and pen from his thigh pocket. “Where did you buy the drugs that you OD’d on?”

“Up north. I met a guy in a supermarket parking lot.”

“And what did you go there to buy?”

“Heroin. But the guy said this was better. He said it was supercharged heroin and that it was such good stuff I’d be back for more.”

“You said ‘up north,’” he repeated. “Where up north exactly?”

“Loveland. At that new shopping center off Garfield Avenue. Behind the big bakery.”

“I know it.” He nodded. “How did you know where to go?”

“Everyone knows this guy’s there on Friday nights after nine o’clock, as soon as it’s dark out.”

“What’s his name?”

“I think his name is Jack. I don’t know for sure, and I didn’t really care at the time.”

“What did he look like?”

Leslie gave a sketchy description that didn’t match the ones Alonzo Jones had given Deck. Maybe it was an independent dealer. Either way, Tori wondered if this would be enough to get another warrant.

“What kind of vehicle does Jack drive?”

“A pickup.”

“What color?”

Leslie shrugged. “I don’t know. Like I said, it was dark out.”

“Was there anyone else with Jack?”

“Yeah. A couple other guys collecting the money.”

“Can you describe them?”

Again, Deck took notes as Leslie gave descriptions of two men who sounded like they could be anyone walking on the streets of Denver.

“All right, then,” he said after a few more minutes of Q&A. “One last question. Are you planning on going to rehab?”

Leslie’s eyes filled quickly. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I want to, but I tried it before, and it didn’t work.”

Deck took the young woman’s hand. “You do have what it takes to get through rehab. You have to want it badly enough.”

“I know. That’s what they told me.” Her shoulders began shaking. “But I don’t think I can do it, and I have no one to help me.”

Deck sat on the side of the bed and took Leslie in his arms, rocking her gently while she cried.

Wow. First Amy, then Dylan, and now…big tough federal agent going all soft and mushy. This guy is amazing.

Leslie curled her fingers into Deck’s shirt, clutching him tightly before he pulled away. He grabbed a tissue from the table next to the bed, dabbing it at the tears still rolling down her cheeks.

The way he held Leslie had Tori wondering what it would be like to be held by this man. Really held, with his big arms wrapped tightly around her.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. She blinked and gave herself a mental smack. What am I doing? Her cranium was going bonkers today.

On the rare occasions that she actually did date, the men she went out with were accountants or doctors or investment bankers. They all had safe, unexciting jobs, and that was the way she wanted it. Going out with a wild, thrill-seeking DEA agent…not gonna happen. The only thing going on between them—now or ever—was that he needed her help, and something inside her wanted to help him. Well, not him, precisely.

He stood and tugged two business cards from his thigh pocket, handing them to Leslie. “Here’s my business card and a card for the best rehab center I know. They specialize in people your age, and they’re good at it. Trust me.”

“Thanks.” She sniffled then took the cards.

“Thank you,” Deck said, taking her hand in his. “You’ve got this, Leslie. Be strong. Okay?” She nodded. “Good. The most important thing you can do is to let people help you. Family. Friends. Don’t shut them out. Let them know exactly what’s been going on with you, and as soon as the rehab center allows you to have visitors, invite them to your sessions. It makes all the difference.”

Tori watched Deck closely, curious about the look on his face—intense and yet…sad was the word that popped into her head. There was something deeply meaningful rooted in the advice he’d given Leslie. Was someone close to him an addict? Did they die? It wasn’t any of her business, but she couldn’t help wondering about his personal life. She didn’t even know if he was married or had a girlfriend or kids of his own. Not that it was any of her business.

Wil rushed into the room. “Turned out that case wasn’t all that urgent. What did I miss?”

“Not much.” Deck shoved the pad and pen back into his pocket. “We’re all done here.”

“Shall we?” Tori extended her arm toward the door, indicating she and Deck should leave. Being the conscientious physician that he was, Wil took his follow-up care very seriously.

Deck followed her from the room. “Thanks for setting that up.”

“You’re welcome.” She continued with him to the ER exit. “Do you think you can get another warrant with that information?”

“I’ll have to do surveillance up in Loveland. But yeah. I do.”

She grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop walking. “I want to go with you.”

“Not a chance.”

“Why not? I accompanied you on the last warrant.”

He began shaking his head. “That was a one-time thing.”

“Then how about making it a two-time thing?”

“Why?” He quickened his pace, forcing her to hurry to keep up with his long stride.

When he beelined for the door, she knew the only way she’d get him to agree was if she did a lot of sweet-talking, and fast. “Because you need me.” Ironically, it was probably more that she needed him, at the moment. To give her the continuing chance to make a difference out there.

“We have agents cross-trained as EMTs, so no offense, but we don’t need you.” He pushed through the ER exit door into the waiting area. “If that’s not enough, paramedics are either on standby or a quick call away.”

She followed him through the door. “Or you could have me right there with you on standby. We already established that there’s no one more qualified, and there’s precedent for it. With the nationwide rise in mental illness, some police departments have started taking psychiatrists with them on mental health calls because they’re better trained to handle those situations.”

“Those are shrinks, Tori.” He turned and kept walking.

Was that the first time he’d called her by her nickname?

“Psychiatrists are physicians, too,” she countered, following him.

He turned so abruptly she nearly slammed into his chest. “Why do you really want to do this?”

Because of Tyler. But she didn’t want to discuss him. His eyes softened as he gazed down at her, eyes so deep brown she could easily see herself getting lost in their warm, chocolaty depths. “Please,” she said, latching onto his forearm and squeezing it. “I have to do this. I have to do something more.”