Her Husband’s Partner

by Jeanie London

  Having the chief beside him took some of the pressure off. Scott didn’t have to think of everything. He didn’t have to explain himself. He didn’t have to battle through this unfamiliar panic. Together he and the chief wouldn’t miss any detail with Riley at risk.

  “Sheriff’s got units on the way,” the chief said.

  Scott nodded and slowed enough to take the switchback turn, the last turn before the farm.

  He spotted the smoke coiling from the back of the house before turning into the driveway. He hissed in relief that the entire house wasn’t up in flames. Charlie’s cruiser sat unmanned. Beside it was a dark stain he couldn’t quite make out in the fading light. Blood?

  His heart thudded a single hard beat, but he didn’t get a chance to put his gearshift into Park before the porch door burst wide and Sal appeared, one side of his face angry and swollen.

  But no blood.

  “We were sandbagged,” he called out. “Two men disguised as paramedics. Armed and dangerous. Professional. She’s gone. They took her in an ambulance. Toward Freedom Road.”

  “Was she hurt in the explosion?” Scott asked.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t see her. I came around when the ambulance was pulling out.”

  “Charlie?” the chief called through the open window.

  “Unconscious. Got a pulse. I’ll get him out.” Sal waved them toward the road. “They’re not two, maybe three minutes ahead of you. Go, go, go.”

  “Fire department is right behind us. Sheriff, too.”

  With a scowl Sal waved them off again, and Scott shoved the gearshift into Reverse and gunned the engine. He corrected the wheel and spun back onto Traver Road. He could hear the wail of sirens in the distance.

  The fire department, most likely.

  He didn’t think, just drove while the chief put an APB out on the ambulance. Three minutes could mean the difference between Riley’s life and death.

  Scott gained time on the open stretch that ran alongside a dairy farm on approach to the turn at Freedom Road. No sight of the ambulance, but a choice of three different roads.

  “Taconic?” the chief asked.

  “They’re not going far in an ambulance,” Scott said. “They’ll have to make a switch somewhere. The nearest medical facility is an urgent care on Route 55.”

  The chief placed the emergency light on the dash as Scott slowed to maneuver the intersection. He was about to gun the engine and speed toward LaGrange when he caught sight of fresh tire tracks in the field off the shoulder, as if someone had pulled off the road in a hurry.

  “Get an ID on that ambulance,” he ground between clenched teeth. He didn’t want to be responsible for running down a legitimate emergency vehicle and possibly killing someone.

  Instinct had him making a wide turn down Mountain Road, which led straight toward the Taconic Parkway. The back of his neck prickled as he scanned the area, taking in the rising and rolling hills that blocked the distance from view. The sprawling barns that dotted those slopes.

  Kondas Brothers’ Dairy Farm.

  The perfect place to make a switch?

  “Vassar Hospital is missing an emergency unit.” The chief grabbed the overhead handle when Scott turned off the road into the field. The car’s suspension bucked wildly as he descended the first slope, but while the ruts faded, he could easily follow the indentations in the grass.

  There were houses in the distance, likely the folks who owned the farm. But an ambulance could have easily hidden behind either, especially the ranch-style house on the highest rise before the forested slope of the mountain began.

  Scott circled the first of the two barns and just as he made the curve, a vehicle cut him off.

  “Shit.” He jammed his foot on the brake as a pricey four-wheel-drive with tinted windows narrowly missed his quarter panel.

  It must have been lying in wait, watching their approach, and now it circled around and bore down on them, keeping them occupied as an ambulance started bouncing wildly down the hill to get away.

  “There she is,” the chief said, on the radio again, this time calling for backup.

  Scott’s pulse slammed against his inner ears, the rush of blood throbbing so loud he could barely hear the roar of the engine as he spun the wheel again, tires grinding through dirt and grass as the car spun in a three-sixty. He managed to avoid taking a hit by the taller vehicle.

  But as he jammed his foot on the gas, intent upon shooting out of the 4X4’s way, he heard the chief issue a stream of curses. Scott glanced out of the corner of his eye…just as the ambulance sent dirt spewing upward as tires skidded along the ground, vainly spinning for purchase.

  His heart stopped beating as the back of the ambulance pitched over the lip of a small gulley and went straight down.

  “Shit,” the chief ground out as the crash resounded through the field, and all they could see of the ambulance was the underbelly of the cab pointing straight toward the sky and the tires spinning in the air.

  Riley.

  Scott was so focused on the ambulance that he didn’t see the 4X4 spin out in reverse. He gunned the engine to get out of the way, but several gunshots rang out, distracting him. The steering wheel bucked in his hands, and he fought to stop the car as the 4X4 rear-ended him hard. Once. Twice. Each crash resounding louder than the last as it finally pushed his front end through the fence and into the side of the barn.

  Wood splintered around them. Glass shattered when some sort of shelving collapsed, spewing glass all over the hood of the cruiser. Scott slammed the car into Reverse and glanced in his rearview mirror simultaneously.

  Sure enough, the 4X4 had bought enough time to speed to the ambulance. It stopped in front of the wreck, blocking it from view.

  “Go, go, go,” the chief yelled as Scott gunned the engine. More wood splintered. Something was trapping the front bumper, and Scott had to rock the car to break free.

  He cleared the fence, but not before the 4X4 circled the gulley, its back door slamming shut as it took off with a shuddering jolt and began a speeding ascent toward the houses.

  “Riley?” Scott followed the 4X4 automatically, but had no way of knowing if they’d taken her or left her in the ambulance.

  “I don’t know,” the chief said. “Give me the wheel.”

  Scott pulled the cruiser in front of the crash site and ground to a halt. He jumped out, and the chief took his place in the driver’s seat. The entire exchange had taken only seconds, but already the 4X4 was disappearing up the slope. If it headed into the woods, the chief might lose them completely.

  “Riley,” he yelled. His entire body started to shake when he glanced down to see how tightly the ambulance was wedged in the gulley, the clearance so compressed it would take heavy machinery to remove it.

  The only luck had been the backward descent. Had it gone in cab first, the ambulance would have likely exploded on impact.

  “Riley?” Scott called again as he yanked back the door of the cab. “Riley, are you here?”

  Silence.

  “Riley.” He tried to gauge the stability of the vehicle, but with the darkness descending, he could only see shadows. He scrambled gingerly into the cab, relieved when the vehicle seemed solid, shoving aside radio equipment that hung from the instrument panel. He sprawled across the front seat and peered down into the darkness.

  “Riley.”

  No reply. Then, after a breathless instant, Scott heard movement. A metallic clatter. The thud of some smaller items hitting the back door. Then a moan.

  “Riley.” No longer a question, but a sigh. “Riley, are you injured? We have to get you out of here. Can you move?”

  “Scott?” She sounded a little dazed but alive.

  Alive.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” he choked out, the words lodging in his throat. “Are you hurt? Talk to me.”

  “No, no. I’m okay.”

  His eyes shuttered instinctively, a prayer of thanksgiving.

  “You’re here.”
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  “I’m here.” Those words tangled with a breath in his throat, threatened to choke him. Or was that relief because she was alive? “I’m here. I’ll help you climb out. Or do you need me to come down to you?”

  “No. No. I’m okay.”

  “Is there anything on top of you? Anything I need to move?”

  He heard her grunt of effort then the sound of something heavy being shoved aside. “If I can swing my legs around…” Her words trailed off.

  “Just go slowly. Make sure you’re okay.”

  The shuffling sounds of her maneuvering. He prayed the doors underneath her were solidly locked or crushed shut against the gulley bottom. There was no way to know.

  “Got it. I’m okay. Just a little banged up.”

  Thank God. “Okay, good. Can you see my hands?”

  He forced himself to remain calm, to keep his voice steady when his heart was pounding too hard and his throat was tight. Anchoring his thighs against the backrest of the seat, he leaned down into the darkness, stretching his arms out before him.

  Her hair was a pale blur in the shadows, a beacon that drew him toward her. “I want you to grab on to me. I’ll pull you out.”

  His lungs compressed against another crushing wave of emotion, making it so hard to breathe as he waited.

  Then her fingers were brushing his, soft, warm, and he was threading his hands firmly around her wrists as if his life depended on it.

  “Riley.” His voice was a whisper in the darkness as he pulled her up inch by inch. She used her feet to find footholds, to steady herself against the equipment that shifted with their movements, impeded the speed of their progress.

  But she came to him. Slowly, ever so slowly she emerged until he was forced to slide out of the cab to bring her the rest of the way.

  “You got her, Scott?” The chief’s voice called out and a flashlight beam slashed through the darkness.

  “Yeah, I got her. I guess that means you didn’t find them.”

  The chief gave a grunt and didn’t bother replying. He just shone the flashlight into the cab. “Need a hand?”

  “Yeah. If you could hang on to me while I pull her out.”

  A few solid moves and they had Riley seated in the grass, looking unsteady but alive.

  “You need medical attention.” The chief sliced his light across her.

  “No, no. I’m okay. I’m okay. The house. And Charlie.”

  She could barely get the words out. She was going into shock if she wasn’t there already. Scott knelt beside her and shoved hair from her face, running his fingers along her temples, her cheeks, down her neck, over her shoulders. He could feel nothing but the smooth curves of this beautiful woman, this beautiful, breathing woman.

  “Anything hurt?”

  “No. Really, I’m okay.”

  “What about the explosion at the house?”

  She shook her head. “Charlie called me. I was out of the kitchen when the fire started. He was…hurt.”

  “He’s fine,” the chief reassured her. “In a real ambulance on the way to a real hospital, but he’ll be okay. His head’s as hard as a rock. Trust me. And your house…well, from what I hear, the only damage is in the kitchen. And the smoke. Don’t worry. We’ll lock it up tight.”

  “Lock it up,” she repeated. “No. I need to go home. Brian will be coming home to deal with the horses.”

  “You need to be checked out, Riley,” the chief said sternly, glancing at the ambulance. “You may be concussed—”

  “Chief, I didn’t hit my head. Honestly, you two, I’m okay. Just banged up a bit. I’ll go see my doctor tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”

  “Then I’ll have my brother-in-law check me out if something doesn’t feel right. All I want to do is go home.”

  The chief cut a meaningful glance at Scott, who said, “Listen, Riley. You and I are going to take a ride. I’ll give Brian a call on the way. Sound good?”

  She turned those sparkling eyes to his, and even in the darkness he could see the shock taking hold. She was running on adrenaline at the moment, but he needed to get her someplace safe, where he could assess her before she crashed.

  “Backup on the way?” he asked the chief, who nodded.

  “Go. Trooper’s pulling off the Taconic. Two minutes max.”

  Scott slipped an arm beneath Riley’s and helped her stand.

  The chief came at her from the other side and they guided her back to his cruiser. She quickly strapped herself into the passenger seat.

  The chief shut the door on her and met Scott’s gaze. “This cruiser took a beating tonight. Is it still going to get you where you need to go, or do I need to call in—”

  “It’ll be fine. I don’t want to wait.”

  “Then let me know where you wind up.”

  Scott circled the car. He slipped behind the wheel, then headed out of the dark field and back onto the road. He saw the trooper’s visibar flashing in his rearview mirror as he sped toward Overlook Road, wanting to avoid Riley’s place, which would still be surrounded with emergency vehicles.

  She didn’t need any more surprises tonight.

  He gave Brian a synopsis of the situation and worked out an arrangement for the kid to deal with the horses and pick up some things while a patrol unit stayed tonight. He told Brian to go to his parents’ or a friend’s to sleep, then meet up with another patrol in the morning. Just until they had a lock on the men who’d abducted Riley.

  That wouldn’t happen until they rounded up everyone at Jason’s bust.

  “Okay, Brian’s all set,” he told her.

  “The kids, Scott,” she said, voice shaky. “They’re going to call so I can tell them good-night.”

  He held up his phone. “Want me to call Joe?”

  She shook her head. “I need to talk to them.”

  He handed her the phone, frowning when her hand shook. “You’re still feeling okay? Not dizzy or anything, are you?”

  “No. I’m okay. Really.”

  But she struggled to dial. He knew what was happening—the adrenaline was wearing off. He knew because his was on the way out, too.

  Yet she was so determined. Cradling the phone against her ear, she rested her head against the window and closed her eyes. “Hi, sweet pea. It’s Mommy,” she spoke softly, looking so relieved. “You and Camille okay?”

  Scott drove through the city, listening to her as she mothered her kids long distance, talking to them in turns, getting excited as they related their stories of the day, loving them, all while her hands trembled and her breath came in ragged bursts. They had no clue about what had happened tonight. How close they came to losing their only remaining parent. She bore that burden right now. Alone.

  “I love you so much,” she finally said. “Call me if you need me. But call me at Uncle Scott’s number, okay? I misplaced my phone. I know, silly Mommy. I love you. Tell Jake I love him, too. Sweet dreams, pretty. I’ll talk with you in the morning.”

  Then she flipped the phone shut. She just held it in her lap as if it were a solid connection to her kids. She never opened her eyes.

  “Joe and Rosie?” he asked.

  “I’ll tell them when I talk with them next. No need to stress them out just yet.”

  Scott wasn’t surprised she was thinking about others, even when she was coming apart herself. But she was so still as he drove through the city to the outskirts of town.

  The silence was complete, as if someone had pressed a mute function. The blue and red blasts of the emergency light sliced through the darkness at rhythmic intervals, the only sign of life except for the sound of Riley’s shallow breathing.

  He wanted her safe. He thought about taking her straight to a hospital, but didn’t want her exposed until the chief had a lock on the situation. He compromised. Putting a call in to Brian’s father, Scott made arrangements for Alex to check Riley out in his office at the hospital. She argued, but Scott didn’t want to find out that she was more ban
ged up than he could handle without assistance.

  After a perfunctory examination, Alex declared Riley in the clear of any major trauma and let Scott take her. Then he drove to the only safe place he could think of. Wheeling off Salt Point Turnpike, he headed down a dirt road. The path followed a creek that wound through the parcel of wooded acreage, not too far from the Clinton townline.

  He pulled up in front of the stone bungalow that overlooked the creek, a place that had once been a guesthouse for the larger residence on these acres.

  Riley never asked where they were, and he understood why the minute he opened her door.

  She was shaking, a lot.

  “Come on. It’s just mild shock. Alex said to expect that, so don’t worry.” He hoped. “We’ll get you feeling better.”

  With his arm tightly around her, he helped her climb the front steps. He unlocked the door, flipped on a light then led her straight into the living room.

  “Sit. I’ll be right back.” Scott headed into the kitchen, turned on the stove light and pulled open the refrigerator. Where was it… There. He withdrew a cardboard container, remnants of takeout dinner from the Canton, his favorite Chinese place in downtown Poughkeepsie.

  Pouring the broth into a mug, he withheld the wontons then shoved the mug in the microwave to nuke for a few minutes.

  He went to the bedroom and yanked the comforter off the bed, then brought it to Riley, who gazed up at him, plaintive eyes gleaming in the darkness.

  “I c-can’t s-stop shaking.”

  “You need a nest.” With a hand on her shoulder, he helped her lean forward so he could wrap the comforter around her. Then he slipped off her shoes. “Pull up your legs.”

  He tucked her feet beneath the heavy comforter, too, then went to retrieve the broth when the microwave beeped.

  “Drink some of this.”

  She shook her head, tangled blond hair coiling around her neck. “N-not h-hungry.”

  “I know. Trust me. It’ll help.”

  She couldn’t hold the mug, so Scott sank down beside her and pulled her onto his lap. Slipping his hands over hers, he helped her steady the mug as she brought it to her lips.