The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1)
Page 6
911 Operator: "Sir?"
Caller: "Oh, my God!"
911 Operator: "Try to stay calm, sir. What is your name?"
Caller: "It killed Randolf!"
911 Operator: "What killed Randolf, sir?"
Caller: "The monster! We made a monster!"
911 Operator: "I'm sorry, sir. Did you say monster?"
Caller: "The KV project. Dr. Kyon. His arm! We need..."
911 Operator: "Sir? Sir? Are you there, sir?"
24 months ago
Xochitl leaned against the squad car, waiting for Officer Lowell to put her in the back seat. The street outside her bar reminded her of a disaster movie. Cop cars and barricades blocked access to the area. Red and blue lights rotated, flashing in a constant rhythm, setting the scene. Helicopters flew overhead, their searchlights scouring the area, as the continual thwap, thwap, thwap of their blades provided the soundtrack.
News crews swarmed the perimeter, which was cordoned off by neon yellow police tape. Reporters shouted queries at anyone who appeared remotely important.
Pinche vultures! Here to pick at the bones of the dead.
"You ready?"
Xochitl felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Officer Lowell standing in front of her, the car door open. Xochi nodded and walked around Lowell to the back door. As she lowered herself into the vehicle, Xochitl felt mildly irritated as Lowell held her left arm and placed a hand on her head, pushing her down onto the seat.
"Really?" Xochitl looked up at Officer Lowell.
"Sorry, habit." Lowell smirked, withdrew her hands and stepped around to close the door.
Shrill, slurred squeals pulled the attention of both women toward the opposite side of the building. Through the windshield, Xochitl watched a pair of SWAT officers hoist a petite, middle-aged Mexican woman in a nightgown up by her armpits. Kicking and screaming slurred profanities, the woman was carried off toward a parked paddy wagon.
"¡Ay carajo!" Xochitl slapped her hand to her forehead.
"Isn't that—"
"Anita." Xochitl scooted out of the back of the police car and stood next to Lowell. "My stepmother."
"Figures! Crazy bitches," a male voice said behind Xochitl.
She turned and saw a stocky officer, not much taller than her, pass them. Recognizing him as the cop who had tried to arrest her earlier that night, Xochi balled her hands into fists, preparing to lunge at him. But Officer Lowell placed a hand on Xochitl's shoulder, stopping her.
"If you can't play like a good little doggy, Kaplan, I might have to put you down," Lowell said.
Kaplan postured up in what Xochitl thought of as an attempt to appear taller. "Oh, yeah, Lowell? You and what army?"
"Don't need an army. Just my trusted friend here." Officer Lowell pulled a Taser gun from her belt and waved it in front of Kaplan. "50,000 volts should be more than enough for someone your size."
"You're just as crazy as this one." Kaplan nodded toward Xochi, who smiled, amused by the wavering bravado of the cop.
"Yep. Now, go." Lowell aimed the Taser at Kaplan's chest.
"Up yours, Lowell!" Kaplan spat, but turned and walked away just the same.
Xochitl heard Lowell mumble "asshole" as she holstered the Taser once more.
"Should we go see about your stepmom?" Lowell closed the car door and faced Xochitl.
"Anita...Do we have to?"
"Up to you."
"Shit. Fine. Let's get this over with." Xochitl fell in behind Officer Lowell as they made their way toward the prisoner transport van.
"Hey, Ramos," Lowell called after a pudgy, bald officer who stood next to the truck with a clipboard in his hand.
"Officer Lucy Lowell." Ramos grinned from ear to ear.
What a pendejo! He looks like a chubby, lovesick puppy.
"You got an Anita Magaña in there?"
Ramos, the stupid grin still on his face, reviewed the list of perps attached to his clipboard. "Yeah. I've got her listed as East Los Locos."
"Nah, she's not East Los. She's my CI's mom." Lowell nodded in Xochitl's direction.
She's acting very chummy with this guy.
"Stepmom." Xochi corrected.
Lucy shot Xochitl a "shut up and let me handle this" look.
Is she trying to flirt with Gordito? This ought to be entertaining.
Xochi rolled her eyes at Officer Lowell but moved off to the side of the van, relegated to spectator.
Lowell turned back to Officer Ramos. The man, not so slyly, inched closer.
Ick.
Xochitl pursed her lips.
Lowell continued to milk the situation awkwardly.
This is amusing.
Xochitl leaned against the prisoner van.
"Is there any way we could release her? She's no threat," Lowell cajoled.
"No, just a drunk," Xochi mumbled.
Obviously ignoring Xochitl, Lowell placed her hand on Ramos' arm. "Of course, I'd take full responsibility for her."
Ramos gazed at Officer Lowell's hand, and Xochitl could have sworn she saw him blush.
¡Híjole! Is this chubby pendejo actually buying what she's selling?
Clearing his throat, Ramos seemed to regain some of his composure. "I'm sorry, Officer Lowell—"
"Come on, Ignacio. It's Lucy."
"Okay...Lucy." Ramos averted his eyes to his clipboard. "I'm sorry, but it says here she assaulted an officer in an attempt to resist arrest. She'll need to be processed."
Oh, well.
Lucy put her hands on her hips, hanging her head in feigned defeat.
Oh, nice change up, Officer Lowell. Who would've thought you had it in you?
"I'm sorry, Ms. Magaña. Officer Ramos is very good at his job and correctly follows regulation. I'm just sorry I won't be able to help you with your mother."
Xochitl cringed again at the word "mother" but decided to play along with Lowell.
"Oh. Okay. It's just...Never mind." Xochitl dramatically turned her head away from Lowell and Ramos.
"What, miss?" Ramos asked.
The concern in Ramos' voice made Xochitl's body shake with laughter that she quickly passed off as sobs.
Xochitl turned to Ramos. "It's just that my little brother will be so scared if his mother, our mother, was gone when he woke up in the morning."
The women waited as Ramos mulled over Xochi's plight.
Xochitl knew her damsel in distress act had just put the last nail in the poor man's coffin.
Sweet little sap.
After a moment, Ramos smiled triumphantly, scribbled something down on his clipboard and looked up at Lowell and Xochi.
"Here." Ramos passed his list to Lowell.
Xochitl moved closer to Officer Lowell and read over her shoulder.
Anita Magaña — Public Intoxication
"She'll get a night in the drunk tank. Might have a court date but nothing more serious. She'll be fine. Best I can do," Ramos rambled.
Officer Lowell patted Ramos on the back. "You're a good man, Ignacio. Thanks."
The little round man blushed once more.
Lowell nudged Xochi in the ribs. "Oh, yeah. Thanks officer."
Lowell gave Ramos one last smile, then grabbed Xochitl's arm, escorting her away. When they were far enough from the wagon, Xochi shrugged Lowell off her, putting distance between them.
"What's with you?" Xochitl chuckled. "Gordito over there never knew what hit him."
"I was doing you a favor."
"Yeah, right. Like I give a shit what happens to that drunk."
"Then, I was doing a favor for your brother," Lowell said. "He just might give a shit if his mother does time for hitting a cop."
Miguel would be better off if she did.
But Xochitl knew Lowell was right.
Miguel loves Anita. He'd be torn up if something bad happened to her.
Xochitl couldn't let him suffer like that. She looked over to Lowell and nodded.
"Good."
They were
almost to the car when Lowell halted. Xochitl turned to see her eyeing the ambulance carrying her partner. A female paramedic was latching the back door to the truck as the engine revved to life.
"Wait here a minute." Lowell jogged over to the woman, who was making her way to the front of the rig.
Too far away to hear their conversation, Xochitl watched Lowell gesture frantically, pleading for the emergency responders to wait. The paramedic kept shaking her head "no." Officer Lowell paced back and forth in front of the ambulance, her hands balled into tight fists.
She's losing it.
Lowell slammed her hand against the side of the truck. "Open the fucking door, now!"
Holy crap! That paramedic better move or she's gonna get pummeled.
The woman backed away slowly.
Lowell's outburst had caught the attention of her fellow officers, including her captain, who stormed over to the ambulance.
Burch's anger seemed equally matched to Lowell's.
She's gonna get herself cuffed if she's not careful.
The two police officers squared off face-to-face and toe-to-toe in a heated argument.
¡Está loca!...But loyal.
"Fine!" Lowell threw her arms in the air in frustration and stormed away from Captain Burch.
"Lowell, you're treading on thin ice. Get back to the station!" Burch barked as he signaled the EMTs to leave.
Lucy kept walking and without looking back at Burch, gave a curt wave in response. Behind her, the ambulance lights cast a blood red hue over her, and Lowell's body noticeably stiffened as the ear-piercing siren blared.
In spite of herself, Xochitl could not help but ache for Lucy Lowell. The look of helplessness written all over Lowell's face was one Xochi knew all too well.
Xochi felt an overwhelming urge to go to Lucy Lowell — to help her — but stopped short as Lowell approached. Her eyes stared directly through Xochitl and seemed to momentarily flash a vibrant, almost translucent blue. A shiver ran down Xochi's spine even as she tried to dismiss the sight.
"We're leaving," Officer Lowell stated coolly, never stopping, as she passed Xochi and the squad car.
"So, we're walking?" Xochitl stepped hesitantly away from the black-and-white.
"We're taking mine." Lowell headed for a K-9 cruiser parked on the corner.
"Then I'm sitting in the front," Xochitl mumbled as she shook off her remaining heebie-jeebies and hurried to catch up to Lowell.
*
Lucy ground the key into the ignition of her cruiser and yanked the wheel sharply while putting a lead foot on the gas.
"Son of a bitch, bitches," Lucy grumbled just above a whisper. "Don't follow the ambulance! Eat me!"
Lucy's illegal U-turn spun the head of every officer on scene, and she purposely forced the tires to into a high-pitched squeal, marking the street with a trace of rubber.
"Hey, Speedy Gonzales, you always drive this fast?" Xochitl asked, sounding tense. In response, Lucy floored it and switched on the light bar. The siren blared, and the cruiser screamed through an intersection after the traffic light had already turned red. Xochitl jumped in her seat and grasped the dash with both hands.
"That's not the way to the station," Xochitl said, her voice sounding flat.
"We're not going to the station." Lucy volunteered nothing else.
Lucy knew she should say something comforting and felt bad about dragging Xochitl along on this fool's errand, but she owed it to Gabe. He was her partner, and he was in trouble.
Lucy had guessed they would take Gabe to Silverlake Hospital, but as the ambulance wound east she realized they were not going to the closest trauma center.
Maybe Silverlake is just unusually busy tonight.
Lucy was glad she'd chosen to follow closely. Something about this didn't feel right.
Xochitl Magaña hadn't taken her eyes off Lucy, and Lucy felt unspoken accusations burn into to her.
"If you're not driving to the station, aren't you defying a direct order?" Xochitl finally asked.
"Sorry, Ms. Magaña." Lucy tuned the police scanner, trying to seem busy.
"¡Híjole! Since you've got me chasing ambulances, call me Xochitl."
"Xochitl, I am sorry," Lucy said and glanced over at the woman. "My captain doesn't get what happened. I have to see Gabe."
"Man, my dogs are barkin'." Xochitl reached down and started pressing on her feet through her snakeskin ankle boots.
The police scanner crackled and spurted out calls in rapid succession: "Multiple suspects on foot heading north on Grand by the Music Center...Robbery in progress at Transamerica...Shots fired at Union Station..." Static filled the car for the space of a breath. The scanner continued, "Officer requesting backup at 7th and Figueroa...101 closed at Alameda. Apparent assault on delivery truck on the ramp."
"I've got to get back," Lucy said out loud, feeling torn. "We're close though."
Sunrise was still hours away but traffic seemed unusually light. Lucy fixed her eyes on the road ahead, troubled. She'd grown to accept L.A.'s 24/7 rush hour fiasco and felt a sense of impending doom settle in her stomach as the cruiser flew toward East Los Angeles Hospital through empty streets.
Lucy turned her head to see Xochitl locked onto her phone, texting rapidly. Lucy wouldn't blame her for sending an emergency message but hoped the woman was merely searching the web and not updating some Face Twitter page thing with "Kidnapped by LAPD officer."
That'd go over well.
Perversely, Lucy suddenly felt self-conscious about the car. Gabe had borrowed the K-9 unit cruiser for the raid because they had planned to pick up dogs from the fights and take them to ACTF foster homes.
Hope Dawn got all the pooches.
The backseat of the cruiser was partitioned off by bars, and the windows were decked out with custom grating. Clean dog blankets lay folded on the backseat. The smell of dog mixed with the empty Cabra Blanca food wrappers strewn on the floor. Lucy didn't mind, but she'd noticed Xochitl had wrinkled her nose when she'd gotten in.
Xochitl had kicked the wrappers out of the way, slyly checking out where they were from. The fact that she hadn't commented on the mess impressed Lucy.
Maybe Xochitl's Cabra Blanca crazy too. Eddie's food has lots of fans.
Lucy considered suggesting they track down the food truck for a late night snack, or perhaps early breakfast. Lucy's stomach grumbled loudly.
"Hungry?" Xochitl said, not looking up from her phone. "Me too."
Pulling in right behind the ambulance, Lucy parked the cruiser in the hospital's emergency vehicle lane and sprinted toward the entrance without saying a word to Xochitl. A team of four in green scrubs was waiting with a red crash cart and another machine Lucy didn't recognize. The EMTs struggled to get Gabe out of the back of the rig on his gurney. From where she stood, Lucy could only see the top of Gabe's head.
"Officer Torres. Gunshot. Temperature 102.5. Blood pressure 180/110. BPM 160. Patient appears stable," one of the EMTs rattled off, his eyes wide and his voice faltering.
"That can't be," the doctor snapped and leaned over Gabe.
*
"You could've at least turned the car off, loca," Xochitl mumbled as she reached for the vehicle's ignition and cut the engine. Sprawled across the cruiser's cab, Xochitl yanked the driver's side door shut.
As she rose, she caught a glimpse of flashing lights from another ambulance pulling in behind her.
Xochitl scooted out of the cruiser and jogged over to Lowell who stood next to the team of medical staff working on Officer Torres.
"Let's take him up." A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair wrapped a stethoscope around his neck. Xochitl guessed he was the surgeon.
She saw Lowell flash her badge to the attending nurse before following her partner and the medical team through the automatic sliding glass doors.
"Hey!" Xochitl shouted after Officer Lowell.
"Wait here," Lowell called over her shoulder, barely looking at Xochitl.
&n
bsp; "¡Hijo de puta!" Xochitl grumbled and walked through the sliding doors just as another medical team dressed in the same green colored scrubs rushed past her to the outside.
Xochitl stood in the middle of the emergency room as various hospital staff scurried in and out of draped off examining bays, displaying, amidst the chaos, an eerie calm. Xochi noticed the partition for one of the rooms pushed back slightly. Through the small gap, she could see a teenage boy no older than her brother lying on a bed with his head turned in her direction. The entire right side of his face was bandaged. Blood seeped through the gauze where it covered his eye.
"Madre de Dios," she whispered and crossed herself.
"She's crashing!" a female voice startled Xochitl from behind.
Xochitl whipped around to see the second medical team rush through the glass doors with a small woman straddled over a body lying on top of a gurney. The woman counted and pushed down on the patient's chest as a male team member squeezed the clear bag of a breathing mask placed over the patient's mouth.
"Out of the way!" the man shouted at Xochitl.
Xochitl jumped to the side, hitting her arm on the edge of the nurses' station.
"Ow," she hissed.
"You can't be in here, miss," a young Latina nurse said from behind the counter.
"I came in with a cop." Xochitl rubbed her elbow. "She went up with her part—"
"East Los Angeles?" a male voice broke in.
The nurse put a hand up to Xochitl as if to say "hold on" before picking up a radio mic. "Go ahead."
"Got another Staples Center mauling victim," the voice replied. "Being diverted to you. Better expect more."
"Copy," the young nurse said. She jotted something down on a piece of paper. "Hey, Star," the nurse called out past Xochitl.
Xochi followed the nurse's gaze and saw a petite older woman carrying a box and notepad enter through a door opposite the nurse's station. Star wore black slacks, a fuchsia blouse and a white nurse's scrub jacket covered with little pink stars. Her blond hair was fastened in a loose bun; tiny tendrils had fallen around her face. Despite appearing tired, she had a pleasant smile.
"What's up, Leticia?" Star asked, placing the box filled with different colored bands on the counter.
"Crazy night." Nurse Leticia handed the paper to Star.
"And it's not even a full moon." Star chuckled, reading over the note.