by Sharon Dunn
“Do me a favor when you do get to go back to your apartment. Stay inside and keep the doors locked until we can get a handle on who did this and why.”
Her stomach twisted into a knot. She knew Jackson was making the suggestion because he wanted her to be safe, but being a prisoner in her own home would only prolong the ordeal. “I’ll stay away from the windows and keep the curtains drawn, but I’m not going to hide. The sooner I can figure out who is behind the attacks, the sooner this will be over. I am aware of the danger, but I intend to be proactive about this.”
He stared at her. A faint smile made his eyes light up. “Well then, I reserve the right to check in on you...as your friend.”
She studied him for a long moment. The sun shining on his brown hair brought out the coppery strands. His eyes were a light green. She hadn’t noticed that before. “You may do that...as a friend.”
Traffic started to inch along again.
After they’d driven for several blocks, he checked the rearview mirror and then the side one. In the back seat of the crew cab, Smokey stood.
Darcy tensed. “Something’s up.”
“Just paying attention.” He turned to her and winked. “It’s my job, remember.”
She craned her neck. Smokey licked her face, blocking her view in the process. The dog seemed nervous. Even if Jackson was good at hiding his emotion, his partner gave everything away.
“Smokey is not so sure about that.”
Jackson released a single chuckle. “Okay, I give up. There’s a dark-colored compact car behind us. Sorta blue, sorta black. It has been behind us almost from the time we left my house. I’ve noticed it twice when I checked my mirrors. A couple of cars back, same lane. Don’t look behind you, use your mirror.”
Darcy tilted her head to look into the side mirror. She had a view of just part of the car.
The light turned green, but traffic was still moving very slowly. Jackson switched lanes without signaling and then made a tight turn down a side street. She waited a moment before checking to see if the car had followed. “I don’t see it.”
Jackson took several more turns.
“Could be nothing,” he said after a long silence. “Traffic is really slow. I’m wondering if there wasn’t an accident or a construction job that went sideways. Now that I have taken all these detours, I’m thinking it might just be faster to get on the expressway.”
“I’m with you,” she said.
He inched forward until he could turn onto a street that led to the expressway. Traffic whizzed around them as they merged into the flow. A florist delivery van erratically changed lanes several times. At one point, she had a view of the driver as he pulled into the lane next to them. He was clearly talking on his phone.
“That guy makes me nervous.”
“Me, too,” Jackson admitted.
The van slowed until his front end lined up with the bumper of Jackson’s truck, then pulled in behind them. All around them cars changed lanes or surged ahead. She glanced through Jackson’s side window. The small car off to the side looked like the one they’d seen earlier. She zeroed in on it, trying to get a look at the driver.
Metal crunched against metal. The florist’s van hit them from behind. Before she could recover, there was another bump, this one more intense. Her body swung forward and then slammed back against the seat. The truck jerked and the scenery whirled around her in flashes of color as Jackson’s truck seemed to be flying and twisting through space. Her only clear view was of the guardrail looming large in Jackson’s window.
Jackson gripped the wheel, his jaw like granite, eyes focused straight ahead. The truck vibrated and skidded at the same time. Brakes squealed. More metal bent, crunched, scraped against something. Her view was of the van, then a red car, then Smokey slamming against the seat.
The crew cab stopped moving. Other vehicles gave them wide berth as they sped around the truck, which was braced against the bent guardrail. Another vehicle, a delivery truck, faced them, its front bumper lying on the pavement. Darcy had no memory of having hit the delivery truck. It must have spun around in the process.
Her body felt like it had been jarred and shaken.
Jackson had already clicked out of his seat belt and was crawling in the back to check on Smokey.
A moment later, she heard sirens in the distance. She looked around, not seeing the florist’s van or the little compact car anywhere.
FIVE
Jackson’s heart was still racing as he reached over and touched Darcy’s shoulder. Her face had drained of color and her gaze was unfocused. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m still breathing, and I don’t think anything is broken...if that’s what you mean.”
He gave her shoulder a squeeze before turning his attention back to his dog.
Jackson made soothing sound as he ran his hands over Smokey’s fur. The dog seemed okay physically but was extremely agitated.
The flashing lights of police cars and other first responders surrounded them. A man approached the truck and knocked on Jackson’s window.
It took Jackson a moment to realize it was Tyler Walker, a detective with the Brooklyn K-9 Unit. If his cognitive processes were that messed up, there was no denying that the collision had affected him. Jackson was a strong man mentally and physically. The thing that had him the most shaken was how the accident had endangered Smokey and Darcy.
Jackson rolled down the window.
“You three okay? I happened to be in the area running down a lead and recognized your truck,” Tyler said.
Jackson nodded. “I don’t think anyone has any broken bones.”
“Why don’t we get the EMTs to check you out, and I’ll give you a ride. Looks like your truck is going to need to be towed.”
As Tyler yanked open the driver’s-side door, Jackson said a quick thank-you prayer that another member of the team had been so close by.
Both Darcy and he had to crawl out the driver’s side of the truck because the passenger door was pressed against the bent guardrail.
As he exited, Jackson assured Smokey that he would return. The dog offered him a halfhearted tail wag. “We got to get him to the vet,” Jackson told Tyler, “just to make sure there is no internal damage.”
“No problem. He can ride with Dusty.” Dusty was Tyler’s K-9, a golden retriever who specialized in tracking. “Why don’t you guys go get checked out? Smokey should calm down once he’s in the SUV with me and Dusty.”
Uniformed police were already taking measurements of skid marks and photographs. Another officer was talking to the driver of the delivery truck.
Darcy walked beside Jackson as they made their way to the ambulance.
“It was a florist’s van that caused the accident,” she said. “Both the woman in the compact car and the van driver were on the phone. What if they were talking to each other?”
Once again, Jackson was impressed by Darcy’s keen powers of observation. “We can’t prove that until we track down one of the drivers and can get a warrant to get a look at their phone.” He hadn’t been able to get a read on the dirty license plate; most of it was obscured. The compact car was a popular make and model all over Brooklyn and would be impossible to track down by description. “Do you remember what florist it was?”
“No, but I would recognize the logo if I saw it.”
The EMT, a slender man probably in his early twenties, stepped toward them. “You folks were in the accident?”
Jackson turned his attention to the EMT. “I think we’re both okay, but we can’t take chances.”
The EMT eyed Darcy and then Jackson. “Did either of you hit your head?”
Both shook their head.
“And neither of you is in any pain?”
“Just kind of shaky,” Darcy said.
“I’ll look at you first,”
the EMT said.
Darcy sat inside the open ambulance. Jackson pulled his phone out and searched for “Florist Brooklyn.” As each businesses came up on the screen, he showed it to Darcy until they found one with a logo that matched the van she’d seen.
Once Jackson was checked out and delcared okay, they got into the SUV with Tyler. Dusty was in her crate in the back with Smokey.
Tyler dropped them off at headquarters, which was right next to the K-9 training center and veterinarian. On the way over, Jackson had called Gina Mazelli, the resident vet, to let her know they were bringing Smokey over.
With Smokey in tow, they entered the veterinary clinic and were led into an examination room. An exam table was situated in the center of the room. Counter space containing equipment and medical supplies took up most of three walls. The fourth wall had a small desk with a computer and a file cabinet.
Gina called out from an adjoining room where the yipping and yapping of puppies could be heard. “Be with you in just a second.”
Darcy bent over to pet Smokey’s back.
“Gina’s living in the training center temporarily as a sort of foster mom,” Jackson told her. “One of the other officers found a German shepherd a few months back who’d just given birth,” said Jackson.
“I heard about Brooke. She had five pups, right?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Officers talk when they bring in evidence for me. Brooke caused quite a stir when they were finally able to bring her in. Officer Lani Jameson told me.”
Gina poked her head through the door. Her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She held a puppy in one arm. With her free hand she pushed her silver-framed glasses back on her nose. Gina always reminded Jackson of his older sister. Melody was a champion barrel racer and a cowgirl to the core, but what always got Jackson was her big heart. She would take in any kind of stray from a houseplant to a horse with a bum leg. Gina Mazelli was the same way.
“Let’s get Smokey on the exam table,” Gina said.
The veterinarian’s wrinkled forehead told Jackson that something was stressing her out. The puppy in her arms, he noted, seemed listless and looked to be half asleep. The puppy licked Gina’s forearm.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“It’s Maverick. She’s having digestive issues again,” Gina said.
Darcy stepped forward. “I can hold her while you examine Smokey, so you don’t have to put her down. I’m sure that is scary for a puppy who is not feeling very good.”
Gina’s expression brightened. “Thank you.” She handed the puppy over to Darcy who put Maverick’s belly against her chest while she stroked her back.
Jackson lifted Smokey onto the exam table.
“So you said he was in a car wreck?” Gina stroked Smokey’s ears.
“Yes,” Jackson said. “I’m sure he got slammed around on impact.”
Gina pressed her hands on Smokey’s belly, watching his reaction. “We should probably do an X-ray just to make sure no bones are fractured. He wouldn’t necessary be yelping in pain over that.” She probed each of his legs then glanced over at Darcy.
Maverick was wagging her tiny tail and licking the underside of Darcy’s chin.
“Looks like somebody made a new friend,” Jackson quipped.
“She’s sweet,” Darcy said.
“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in babysitting tonight?” Gina asked. “I have to be with my grandmother through some surgery she needs. I don’t have anyone to cover the night shift with Brooke and her pups for me. With Maverick still kind of touch and go, I don’t feel right leaving them alone.”
“Well, I’d like to, but I’m not an expert on dogs or anything,” Darcy replied.
“I can stay with them, too,” Jackson said. Given the accident, he didn’t want to leave Darcy alone and, even if her window was fixed, he didn’t think it was a good idea for her to go back to her apartment.
Gina glanced at Darcy and then at Jackson. “Between the two of you, you should be able to handle it just fine.”
Maverick grunted.
“I’ll go get Smokey x-rayed. If you want to, see if you can get Maverick to eat something and keep it down. Her food is in the next room, the soft stuff. She’s used to being hand fed.” Gina disappeared into an adjoining room with Smokey.
Darcy and Jackson took Maverick into the room where Mama Brooke was settled with her four other puppies. They all appeared healthy and energetic as they crawled on mom and played with each other in the pen.
Jackson found the shelf that contained soft puppy food. Darcy sat in a chair that was covered in dog hair, though she didn’t seem to mind. Her focus was on Maverick.
Jackson handed her the dish. She dipped her fingers into the food and placed them close to Maverick’s mouth. “Come on, sweetie, you’ve got to eat.”
Jackson stroked Maverick’s head with a single finger. “Come on, girl.”
The dog nestled against Darcy but didn’t take the food. “I’ll just hold her for a minute and then we’ll try again. Poor little thing. I hope she makes it. I always root for the underdog.”
“Me, too,” Jackson said.
A glow had come into Darcy’s cheeks as she’d looked down at the puppy. Jackson felt himself drawn to her in a deeper way. The level of compassion she showed for the little fighter of a puppy moved him. He liked the size of Darcy’s heart, too. “You’ll be a good mom someday.”
“Puppies and babies are two different things. Besides, I just don’t see any sign of a husband anywhere.”
“You never know,” Jackson said.
She shrugged. “My sister will probably make me an auntie in a couple of years after she gets married.” Darcy drew the puppy even closer to her. “Maybe that is supposed to be my role in life.” She lifted her gaze to look at him. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Jackson.”
He felt a surge close to his heart. There was a part of him that wanted to be more than friends with Darcy. He let go of the thought almost as quickly as it had entered his head. He reached out to pet the puppy. His fingers brushed over her hand. “Yes, it’s been good for both of us.”
Maverick licked her fingers where there was still food residue.
“Let’s try one more time.” Jackson dipped his fingers into the food dish and placed his hand close to Maverick’s nose so she could sniff first. Then he brushed her mouth with the food. This time the dog licked it up.
“There you go, little one.” Darcy’s voice was filled with joy.
“You two make a good team.” Gina stood in the doorway, Smokey beside her.
They both turned to look at Gina.
From where she lay inside the pen, surrounded by puppies, Brooke thumped her tail and whined. Smokey trotted over to the pen.
“Smokey checks out. No fractures or anything,” Gina told Jackson. “He’s good to go.”
“Great then,” he said. “We’ve got some police work to do.”
“I’ll see you guys tonight then. I’m sure Maverick will be glad to see you, too,” Gina said as she reached her arms out to take the little dog.
Darcy gave Maverick a kiss on the head before handing her over.
As they stepped back into the reception area, Jackson phoned Gavin Sutherland, the sergeant of the Brooklyn K-9 Unit. He explained the situation about the accident and Darcy maybe being able to identify the driver of the florist’s van. “I’m without a personal vehicle right now and I would like to treat this as official police business.”
“No problem,” Gavin said. “You can use your K-9 vehicle. Also, I’ll ask around—one of the other K-9 officers probably has a beater car you can borrow until your truck is out of the shop.”
“Thanks for doing that,” Jackson said.
“Bear in mind that Darcy is technically a civilian. Keep her safe.”
<
br /> Jackson glanced at Darcy, who was twirling a strand of her blond hair and studying a piece of lab equipment on the counter. “No problem.”
“Let’s send another unit with you just to be on the safe side. I’ll find out who’s available,” said Gavin.
Jackson, Darcy and Smokey left the veterinarian’s and headed over to the parking area where a few of the K-9 vehicles were kept. After securing Smokey in his crate in the back of an SUV, Jackson got behind the wheel.
He offered Darcy a smile and a pat on the shoulder as she got in on the passenger side and buckled up. “Let’s get this done.”
“Yes,” Darcy said, letting out a heavy breath. “So I can get on with my life and work.”
Jackson hoped that would be the case.
* * *
Darcy could feel her stomach twist into knots so tight it almost hurt. She pressed her hand against her belly. It was scary to think she might soon be looking at the man who had attacked her and then run her off the road and maybe even had gone after her in the park when she left the crime scene. She said a prayer of thanks that Jackson and Smokey were with her. She wasn’t sure what the woman in the compact car had to do with anything.
“So where exactly are we going?” Jackson asked. “I need to GPS the address.”
Darcy paged through the information about the florists on her phone. “It looks like they have several storefronts throughout Brooklyn, but they get their flowers from the greenhouses at Brooklyn Nurseries.” She came to pictures of the interior and exterior of several greenhouses. Vans like the one that had caused Jackson to wreck his truck were parked in a gravel lot by one of the greenhouses. “I think our best hope would be to go to the greenhouse. The delivery vans must do their pick-ups there, and it looks like they are parked there at the end of the day.” She recited the address to him.
