by Anne Welch
***
It was just eight a.m. and Jay was on his third cup of the black sludge they called coffee at the station. He had a restless night's sleep so he came in early. Now, he was waiting on Mikey to arrive so they could interrogate Scooter. Nearly an hour later, his partner finally showed up. Mike just turned fifty-five and was still spry for his age. He had a head full of brownish-gray hair, which he kept closely cropped, and he reminded Jay of Clint Eastwood. He had natural muscles from hard work, not a gym. In his spare time, he worked with horses. Unlike Jay, who preferred jeans and a black t-shirt, Mike wore a shirt and tie every day.
"You look like crap, Jay. Did you sleep at all?" Mike asked as he sat across from him.
"The hospital just called; the clerk died from her injuries this morning," he told Mike somberly. "Let's get some answers out of Scooter now."
Jay walked in the small integration room with Mike following behind him. Scooter was handcuffed to the scratched-up metal table. His legs were moving up and down, shaking it. Either he was nervous, or he was coming down off a high. Mike sat in one of the gray chairs and placed a cup of coffee in front of Scooter. Jay stood by the door and watched as Mike took the lead. He crossed his arms over his chest, getting frustrated at the run around Scooter was giving them.
Finally, he'd had enough. He grabbed the other chair, turned it around, and placed it right beside Scooter. Jay was so close to him, he could smell the urine odor that permeated Scooter's clothing.
"Stop bull shitting us around and tell us what you know now! You know something about the gas station explosion, and this is your one and only chance to make it right or you will be facing homicide charges."
He watched as understanding finally gleamed in Scooter's eyes. Maybe Jay could have been a little easier on the guy, but his patience was wearing thin. Their case had just turned into a homicide. Mike, who was normally the calm one, stood up and slammed his chair under the table, and Scooter jumped.
"If I tell you what I know, they will kill me," Scooter said in a shaky voice.
"We can protect you; just tell us what you know," Jay encouraged him.
"I was in East Nashville, on Harding place, at the hotel there, getting my fix, you know. I overheard these guys talking about selling explosives to some crazy man who wanted to blow up some gas stations."
"Go on," Mike encouraged him.
"The guys saw me and told me if I repeated what I heard, they would kill me, man. So, I got my shit and left. You gotta protect me, right?"
"I need names, Scooter," Jay said, standing.
"I told you what I know, man, I swear. I don't know who they were."
Jay put a pad and pen in front of Scooter and instructed him to write everything he told them and anything else he could remember.
"I am sending a sketch artist in here, and I want you to describe the men to him. Then, we will see what we can do about protective custody."
He and Mike left the integration room and, after filling the captain in, they headed out to follow up on the leads from Scooter. Jay checked his phone—no missed calls or messages. He knew he should call Rachel, but he didn't.
Chapter Three
The sirens blared as Rachel placed her foot on the dashboard of the ambulance for balance. When Blake drove, he always took the curves too fast. They were following the fire engine, heading to Music City Gas. One of the gas tanks exploded, and several people were injured. What a way to start their first shift back after two weeks of Swat medic training in Dallas. Rachel had loved every minute of the training and couldn't wait to put it to use. She hadn't heard from Jay at all since she'd been gone, and it hurt more than she was willing to admit. She put that out of her mind and focused on the sirens. Every time they sounded, her adrenaline went into overdrive. Blake stopped the ambulance behind the ladder truck, and Rachel jumped out with her gear.
Rachel began triage as soon as the fire was under control. Patients with minor injuries were put in one safe area, while others who required immediate medical aid were treated first. Other ambulances were arriving on the scene for assistance. Rachel directed the other paramedics where to go, then she began treating patients. She went to assist Blake with a woman in her mid-forties who was caught by the direct blast. When she kneeled beside him, he just shook his head. Knowing her partner, he'd done everything he could to save the woman, but she didn't make it. In the field, you can't stop and grieve for the ones you lost, you had to keep going and save the ones you could. It was the only way to deal with what they saw day to day.
A child's scream caught Rachel's attention. She motioned for Blake and they ran towards the sound. Beside what was left of the side wall of the gas station was a little boy, no more than five, lying on the ground. He was covered in small cuts and black suet. She reached him first and immediately began checking him for any head, neck or back trauma. She carefully held his neck in place while Blake placed a cervical collar on the child. Other than the cuts and minor smoke inhalation, he seemed to be fine. They put him on a backboard and loaded him into their ambulance.
"Mommy, Mommy!" came the worried cry from the scared little boy.
"Hey, sweetie. My name is Rachel. What's your name?" she asked, trying to offer him some comfort.
Rachel looked at Blake, and he nodded. She knew he would go see if he could find anything about the mom. It was chaotic but controlled. She continued checking the little boy over and trying to calm him down.
"Justin, Justin!"
"Mommy!" the little boy shouted, trying to sit up on the gurney.
Blake helped the scared mother up the step into the back of the ambulance. Rachel showed her where she could sit and hold Justin's hand.
"Oh, baby, are you okay? We got separated after the blast and I couldn't find him anywhere," the mother said in a panic.
"Ma'am, my name is Rachel and your little boy should be just fine. We need to get him to the hospital to have him checked out." She saw the mom relax a bit. "You can ride with us."
Justin's blood pressure was running a little low so Rachel inserted an I.V. and began giving him fluids. The mother was calm enough that she could get a complete medical history on the child before they arrived at the emergency room. Blake stopped the ambulance in front of Vanderbilt Hospital, and Rachel began giving a run down to the doctor on call.
Once Justin was taken back to be evaluated, Rachel stood at the nurse's desk and finished filling out her report. She made a quick trip to the bathroom to wash up and went in search of Blake. Her heart sped up when she saw him standing by the ambulance talking to none other than Detective James Scott. What was he doing here? She hadn't laid eyes on him since the night of Grace's wedding. She felt her cheeks flush, thinking about their night together. He was standing with his back towards her, wearing those tight ass black jeans and that ab hugging dark t-shirt. With his badge and gun on his lean hips, it made her mouth water for more.
Stop it, Rachel! No man should look that good without even trying, with his dark hair and five o'clock shadow. She made her wobbly legs carry her to where they were standing. She refused to let Jay see the effect he had on her. She would not try to change him. With everything that he'd been through, she understood why he felt the way he did about relationships. Hell, she had her own hang-ups about them. She had commitment phobia, herself. Taking a deep breath, she did her best to make her feelings transparent and walked over to the ambulance.
"Hey, Jay," she said, clearing her throat.
"Hey, Rach. Just the person I was looking for," came Jay's reply.
If he was feeling even part of what she was, she couldn't see it in his face. If she admitted the truth, the fact that he didn't hurt her. Was she just another notch in his belt? She couldn't be mad at him, though. He never pretended to be anything but what he was.
"Well, here I am," was her reply, trying to hide her hurt.
"I'm investigating the gas station explosion today, and your partner, here, tells me you were first on scene."
&nbs
p; "Yes, our ambulance was first on scene and I did triage."
"I need to know everything you saw. Even the smallest detail could help. Did anything seem weird or out of place?" Jay asked as he propped his leg on the back of the ambulance.
"What's going on, Jay? I thought the gas pump accidently exploded. Did something else happen?"
"We are investigating the possibility that this explosion and the one on 8th Avenue, last week, are connected."
Before she could respond to Jay, her radio went off and dispatch was sending them on another call. A possible heart attack.
"Sorry, Jay, we have to go," Blake told him.
"I understand. I'll come by the station later, and we can finish this. Rachel, be careful."
"Always."
Was that worry in Jay's eyes? If it was, it was worry that she was Grace's friend, not worry because he actually had feelings for her. Shaking her head, she responded to the call from dispatch.
"You all right, Rach?" Blake raised his eyebrow and glanced at her. "Things were kind of weird between you and Jay, back there."
"I don't know what you mean," she said, lying through her teeth. The last thing she needed was him knowing that it was Jay she slept with that night. She didn't need a lecture on what a terrible mistake she'd made. Or how he would never give her what a girl like her needed. The fact was she knew this already. Seeing him again was like a punch in the gut. How could she go back to just being friends with him now?
"Oh, shit! It was Jay? You slept with him, didn't you?"
"Shut-up, Blake. We're here." She knew he would bring it up again, but thank God, she got a reprieve with this call.
***
Jay stood by the hospital doors and watched as the ambulance left. Even though it had only been a couple of weeks, seeing Rachel again made him realize just how much he had missed her. He would do whatever it took to fix their friendship. That's all he could offer her. She would come to see that she would be better off that way. He would begin working on that when he went by the fire station, later. Right now, there were victims to interview. There was no way these two Music City Gas station explosions were random. It was up to them to make the connection by putting the pieces together.
The first station, there was a small explosive device put on the gas pump outside. It was done late at night and only one fatality, the clerk who'd been close to the tank when it exploded. Crime scene was going over the explosion tonight with a fine-tooth comb, looking for any evidence to connect the two. From what he'd gathered so far, there were six people with minor injuries and two in serious condition. After interviewing the victims, he could at the hospital, Jay left to meet his partner, Mike, at the crime scene. As soon as he started his SUV, his phone rang.
"Hey, sis. How's the honeymoon going?"
"Hey, big bro," came the reply from his baby sister, Gracie. "The honeymoon is great, and so is my husband. How are you?"
"I'm good; just working a case. You still need me to pick you guys up from the airport on Friday?"
"If it's not a problem, yes."
"I will be there and can't wait to see you."
"I miss you, Jay. Be careful out there, and I will see you Friday. Love you."
"Love you, too," he replied as he disconnected the call. It was so good to hear how happy his sister sounded. Zach was good for her.
Chapter Four
Rachel can't remember that last time she was so happy a shift was over, as she was tonight. Blake drilled for the all the details about what happened between her and Jay, and she was still jet-lagged from her training in Dallas and looking forward to being off for the next twenty-four hours to catch up on her sleep. She waved goodbye to the morning crew and grabbed her backpack. She was looking down at her phone as she approached her car. The worn black cowboy boots caught her attention first, followed by long, muscular legs that led to a perfect bulge between his thighs. Stop it before you drool, Rach. Slowly, she lifted her head and saw Jay, leaning against her hood, holding coffee and doughnuts.
"That's kinda cliché isn't it, Jay? You know, cop and doughnuts," she said, trying to break the tension with a joke.
"I got your favorite—chocolate chip," he said, holding the bag open for her to smell. "I need to go over what happened at the gas station yesterday. Can you spare a few minutes?"
She grabbed the bag and coffee from him and walked over to the old worn-down picnic table beside the fire station. She bit into the chocolate sin and, holy crap, they were still warm. She watched as Jay took the seat across from her and took a long swig of his coffee.
"I talked to Gracie, yesterday; she and Zach are coming home Friday," Jay said, clearing his throat.
"That's great. I've missed her so much."
"Me, too. She sounds really happy," he replied.
She could see the love for his sister gleaming in his face.
"I know you are tired and need sleep, but can you tell me everything you remember about the call yesterday?"
Rachel went over in detail from start to finish about the call. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary for her. She just assumed a gas pump accidentally exploded. Apparently, there was another explosion a few days earlier and he thought they were connected. She watched him take meticulous notes. For a man, he had beautiful handwriting. His fingers were thick with a dark smattering of hair on them. She blushed, thinking about what Jay had done to her with those fingers.
"Rach? Hey, you with me?"
"Yeah, sorry, I'm just tired. It was a long shift," she said, attempting to regain her composure.
"I think I have all I need, right now. If I need anything else, I'll give you a call. You should go home and rest," he told her, getting up to leave.
She sat there watching him as he stood. She knew she should keep her mouth shut and get in her car and go home. She was too tired for this, right now. But she couldn't just let him leave.
"Are we every going to talk about that night, Jay?" she asked, biting the bullet.
He stopped, and she heard him suck in a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to have this conversation here, Rachel?" he asked, slowly turning around to face her.
"I don't want to lose our friendship Jay, but there's something between us," she began.
"Rach, you know I don't do relationships; that's not me."
"That's a cop-out, Jay. How do you know, unless you try?"
"I can't give you what you need or deserve. A home with 2.5 kids, that's not me. I will just end up hurting you and making you hate me. That would destroy me, Rach. You and Grace are all I have in the world."
The look in his eyes told her that he really thought that. She wasn't sure she could convince him otherwise, but she wanted to try.
"I could never hate you, Jay, I l—" Before she could get the words out, he stopped her with a soft kiss.
He leaned his forehead against hers, her hands on his chest. She could feel his heart beating fast through the thin layer of his black t-shirt. "Don't say it, please." He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. "I can't say it back." He climbed in his SUV and drove away. Somehow, she made it to her car with wobbly legs she wasn't sure could hold her up. She would not cry. Another lie, she told herself.
Numb, she let herself into her small apartment. Normally, coming to her cozy place after a shift brought her joy, but not today. She threw her backpack on the couch and took a quick shower. She pulled on her NFD t-shirt and crawled into bed. She checked her phone and saw a missed call from Grace. She tried to call her back but the phone went straight to voicemail. She would try her again later. Feeling drained, she finally drifted off to sleep.
***
"Let him go, Jay, shit, man." He felt Mike's hands around his shoulders. "What in the hell has gotten into you?"
"Nothing. Sorry, man," he said as he let Scooter go. This guy had to know more than he was telling them. After his heart to heart with Rachel, this morning, he and Mike had followed up on every lead that Scooter had given them—and nothing.
"Go walk it off; I got this," Mike said as he ushered Jay out of the room.
What the hell was he doing? He was a good cop and didn't treat suspects this way. The conversation with Rach kept playing his head. He knew he hurt her and that gutted him. Better a little hurt now than breaking her heart completely. When Jay first met her, they argued all the time. His favorite thing to do was to grate on her nerves. Then, when Grace almost died, things changed. They became so close, and she became someone he had to have in his life. He supposed, if he would allow himself to picture himself with someone, it would be Rachel. But what happens when it ends?
She would hate him and be lost for good. That couldn't happen. His parents had a perfect marriage to the outside world and probably even to Grace. They hid things from her, but Jay saw. He would hear them fighting, tearing each other to pieces. His dad would leave the house angry while his mom would cry herself to sleep. They were both good people. Just not together. Of course, there was the guilt Jay felt about their death. They were coming to see him play. They died in an auto accident, but what he never told anyone is that they were arguing and his dad lost control and didn't see the other truck. If they hadn't been in the car, coming to see him, they would have never died in that accident.
The ringing of his cell phone brought him out of those dark thoughts. There'd been another explosion. He hurried down the hall to interrogation and got Mike. This one was only five minutes from the police department, so they made it there the at the same time as the fire truck and rescue squad. This Music Valley Gas was small and only had two gas pumps. Flames were billowing out of the entire building. Even though the store was smaller than the others, it appeared the explosion was larger. They stood back and let the firefighters put out the flames. He recognized a few of the guys; they were from Rachel's and Grace's house.
It didn't take long before the flames were put out. The only person injured was the store clerk and his injuries were minor. Mike went back to the SUV to call in the crime scene, and Jay went in search of the fire chief, when the first shot rang out. He dove for the chief and they took cover behind the fire engine. Jay crouched down with his gun out, trying to locate the shooter. Before he could, a second shot rang out, and to his horror, he saw an officer go down. He yelled for everyone to get down as he tried to see where the shots were coming from. He radioed Mike, who was pinned down behind the SUV. There were several tall buildings around, and it was getting dark. They were sitting ducks.
