Another Chance (A Penelope Chance Mystery Book 2)

by Daniel Patterson

  “Something is happening in Gainesville,” said Gabriel as four quiet conversations went on around them.

  “It certainly looks like it,” Penelope agreed, head swiveling to watch two of the suspected detectives at one table signal to a third at another.

  “You feeling left out?”

  Embarrassed that he could read her that well, she gave a little smile and said, “Not my jurisdiction. I’m sure they’ll be fine without me.”

  “And I’d say you’re entitled to a break from excitement.”

  “Yes, but if I were to be truthful, I do enjoy the rush. We don’t get a lot of action in Franklin, and Lord knows I’m grateful for that, but—”

  “It’s nice to get the chance to play the superhero once in a while,” Gabriel finished for her.

  Penelope nodded and reached for her purse. “Professor . . . sorry, I mean Gabriel, it’s been great catching up, but I better get going.”

  “Of course, Penelope.”

  Gabriel stood, and she noticed a slight stiffness as he stretched his legs and stood to his full height. So he’s not Superman after all.

  “We’ll have to—” Mid-sentence, Penelope’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID. Franklin Police Station. “Excuse me, I should take this,” she said.

  Gabriel nodded.

  “This is Chance,” she answered.

  “Chance! Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you all afternoon.” It was Officer Alex DeBose who was a second year rookie with the Franklin Police Department, and Penelope was his training officer. “Did you get any of my messages?”

  “I’ve been in court all day. I haven’t checked messages. What’s up?” Penelope’s stomach growled at the sudden realization that she hadn’t eaten all day.

  “There was an incident at Grace Memorial Hospital earlier this afternoon.”

  “Incident? What type of incident?”

  “Don’t worry Penelope,” DeBose sounded like he was choosing his words carefully. “I’m sure Jacob’s gonna be fine . . .”

  Penelope’s heart dropped to her stomach. “What about Jacob? Is everything okay?” She glanced at Gabriel, sure he could hear the panic in her voice.

  “There was a robbery at the pharmacy,” DeBose continued, his voice shaky. “The perps started snatching bottles of pills . . . then Jacob intervened.”

  “He did what?”

  “He . . . intervened.”

  Penelope’s body went numb. “DeBose? What happened to Jacob?”

  “He’s been shot.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “Penelope, what is it?” Gabriel asked. “What’s wrong?”

  She heard him speaking, but he seemed miles away.

  He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Penelope?”

  “A robbery . . . Jacob . . . my fiancé . . . he was shot.”

  “When? Just now?”

  “No, earlier today, while we were in court. I never should have turned my phone off. I should have checked my messages. I’ve got to get to the hospital,” Penelope fumbled in her purse for her keys, spilling the contents in the process. She went down to her knees to gather her belongings, willing her hands to stop shaking.

  Gabriel bent down to assist. “Give me your keys, I’m driving you.”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “You’re not good, Penelope. Hand them over,” he said firmly.

  She complied.

  “Where is your car?” he asked.

  “It’s at the courthouse.”

  It was a short walk back to the courthouse parking lot and Penelope and Gabriel covered it at a quick trot. Penelope forced herself to stay calm, and remember her law enforcement training. But right now, she didn’t feel like a cop—she felt like a terrified member of a victim’s family.

  What was Jacob thinking? Why would he intervene? And how was she going to live without him if he was gone?

  Gabriel shoehorned his six-foot-two-inch frame into the driver’s seat of Penelope’s 1975 MGB and moved the seat all the way back. “Breathe, Penelope,” he said. “Say a prayer if it helps. I’ll have you there in ten minutes.”

  She was way ahead of him in the prayer department. God was so much a part of her life that her thoughts went to Him for comfort and guidance sometimes without her being conscious of it. She tried to feel His presence calming her.

  She grabbed her phone, angry with herself for hanging up on DeBose before she could get the full story. She called back, but there was no answer. She called Doug, but he hadn’t heard anything. She promised to keep him updated. Next, she tried Chief Jackson, but got no answer.

  Gabriel turned left onto University Avenue and headed west to Grace Memorial Hospital. Traffic was particularly bad that night, and the drive seemed to take forever. Gabriel did his best Frank Bullitt impression, weaving the little green sports car in and out of traffic like a pro. But the ten-minute drive quickly turned to twenty.

  Penelope called the Franklin Police Department’s main line, but Judy, the dispatcher, knew no more about the situation than Penelope did.

  She dialed the hospital’s information line next.

  It connected to an infuriatingly polite electronic answering system. “Thank you for calling Grace Memorial Hospital. If you know your party’s extension, please dial it at any time. For patient information, please press twenty-two. For—” Penelope pressed 22. “Please enter the first three letters of the patient’s last name using the corresponding numbers on the dial pad . . .”

  Penelope hung up with a growl.

  “Try 555-4639, that’s the nurse’s station in the ER,” Gabriel suggested.

  She did and was promptly put on hold. She hung up again.

  “OK, try 555-6478. That’s the number for the doctor’s lounge.”

  That number rang eight times and then the call reverted to the answering system.

  Tears of frustration came to her eyes and Penelope tried her best to give her fear up to God.

  “We’re here,” Gabriel said, parking the car near the ER entrance and handing Penelope the keys. “I’ll check on you later,” he added as Penelope ran from the car.

  CHAPTER 9

  The automatic glass doors to the Grace Memorial Hospital emergency room slid open, and Penelope headed for the counter.

  “Jacob Gordon?” she said.

  The ER duty nurse, Sandy Scott, recognized her and pressed the button that unlocked the door to the emergency room. Without thanking her or looking back, Penelope wrenched the handle open as soon as she heard the buzzer.

  Just inside the entrance, someone called her name. She turned and saw Dave Sayre, one of the hospital security guards, talking to a uniformed Gainesville police officer. His face fell when her eyes caught his. He brushed off the officer and hurried over to Penelope.

  “Penelope! Follow me. I’ll take you up to ICU. He’s in room three-oh-two.”

  ICU? That’s not good. Penelope couldn’t bear to ask Dave about Jacob’s condition and mumbled, “Thanks,” as she followed him down the brightly lit hallway.

  When they got to the elevator, Dave pressed the up button. The silence grew thick while they stood and waited for the next elevator. Penelope turned toward the stairs but paused when Dave turned to face her.

  “It all happened so fast,” he said. “Those guys knew what they were doing.”

  “I’m sure you did your best, Dave.”

  “It’s usually so quiet around here.”

  “Things are bound to get shaken up from time to time,” she told him, barely hearing the clichéd words coming from her mouth. “This kind of stuff happens to the best of us.”

  A ding sounded, and the doors of the elevator parted. Penelope paused and glanced toward the stairs.

  “You coming?” he asked.

  Penelope took a deep breath and stepped into the empty elevator without a word. Dave pushed the number three, the doors closed, and she got that sinking feeling she always got in tight spaces. She took another deep breath and held o
nto the rail. They rode together in silence and as soon as the doors opened onto the third-floor, Penelope burst through them and raced down the hall. Dave shuffled after her.

  Penelope stopped in her tracks when she saw her friend, Detective Donny Greene of the Gainesville Police Department, standing in front of Jacob’s room. He was wearing one of his customary dark tailored suits, and several uniformed officers surrounded him. They stopped talking as she approached.

  Donny turned to Penelope and held both his hands up, but that wasn’t going to stop her. She stepped passed the officers and placed her hand on the doorknob as she took a calm breath.

  Please, Lord, let him be okay.

  She opened the door, but she wasn’t prepared for what she saw next.

  CHAPTER 10

  Room 302 was empty.

  “He’s going to be okay, Chance,” Detective Greene said from the open doorway. Donny usually had a wisecrack for everything, but he was serious as he said, “They’re bringing him back from x-ray now. You want me to wait with you?”

  A surge of relief flooded her body. “That’s all right, Donny. I’ll wait here and collect my thoughts. Thank you.”

  The detective nodded and closed the door.

  Penelope sank into the first empty chair she saw. She took a few calming breaths, bowed her head and closed her eyes. “Thank you, God.”

  A few moments later, she walked into the tiny bathroom and saw a person she hardly recognized in the mirror.

  A few wisps of flyaway hair had escaped from the tie that had held them back. Her usually vibrant face seemed drawn out, her skin pale and gaunt. Dark rings had taken shape under her green eyes, making her skin look even more lifeless. She pulled her hair out of its ponytail and watched the blonde strands fall around her face.

  She splashed cold water on her cheeks and patted them dry with the rough brown paper from the dispenser. She took a deep breath and turned just as a female nurse wheeled Jacob into the room.

  The nurse wore light pink scrubs that complimented her suntan. Her platinum blonde hair was cut in a neat bob that bounced playfully over her shoulders. The two of them laughed at some private joke.

  “I’ll take your word for it, Nurse Bunny,” Jacob said.

  “Jacob!” Penelope called out.

  “Oh! Hiya, Penny,” Jacob slurred when he noticed her standing in the bathroom doorway.

  “I heard you were shot!”

  “I was shot. Nicked actually—twelve whole stitches. It was the barrel of the shotgun that caught me by surprise and did the real damage.” He pointed to the second bandage on his temple and grinned. “But the medication is making it almost worthwhile.” He turned to face the female nurse and was met with the V-neck of her shirt. Jacob dissolved into a fit of giggles, and the nurse wheeled him to the bedside.

  “Dr. Gordon is on some strong pain medication,” the nurse said, struggling to keep a straight face. “Along with those stitches, he has a concussion. He gave us quite a scare.”

  “Penny, this is Nurse Bunny.”

  “Bonnie,” she corrected him.

  “She’s been taking real good care of me.”

  “I can see that.” Penelope’s voice was frosty.

  “This whole getting shot thing sounds way scarier than it is,” Jacob added, trying his best to downplay the situation.

  Nurse Bonnie moved away from the bed and spoke to Penelope. “Keep a close eye on him and if you see him experiencing any nausea or dizziness, call a nurse right away.”

  “Or what? He’ll drop dead?” Penelope said in a sarcastic tone.

  The nurse frowned. “It could indicate brain bleed, which could lead to seizures or even stroke.”

  “Can you excuse us Bunny?” Penelope said.

  “Bonnie,” the nurse said, matching Penelope’s frosty tone. “Take good care of him. We don’t know what we would do around here if anything ever happened to Dr. G.”

  “I’ll be sure and do just that,” Penelope said.

  Nurse Bonnie turned to Jacob. “I see that you are in good hands now, Dr. Gordon.” She nodded at him and moved toward the door. Penelope stood her ground, making the nurse walk around her.

  Jacob leaned to one side to look past Penelope and flashed Bonnie a big smile and waved good-bye.

  CHAPTER 11

  Penelope glared at Jacob, barely able to speak. “I thought you were shot!”

  “I was shot.”

  She stepped toward him. “I thought you were nearly dead . . . shot!”

  “You seem angry that I’m not.”

  Tears of anger, frustration, and relief finally began to fall. “You scared the life out of me! Please don’t you dare ever get shot again.”

  She closed the short distance between them, hugged him gently and laid her head against his chest, trying not to hurt him. At that moment, she felt whole. She held on to that feeling.

  “I’m sorry,” Jacob said after a few minutes.

  Penelope released her embrace. “You should be,” she teased, but with an undertone of concern. “What did I tell you about playing the superhero?”

  “It all happened so fast. I didn’t want to see anyone get hurt. One minute, I was with a patient, and the next thing I knew I was shot. Even now it’s just a blur.” Jacob tried to sit up in the bed and Penelope saw him wince.

  “I’m glad you’re okay.” There was something about Jacob’s story that didn’t sit right. She didn’t give it another thought. Right now she was just glad to see his face.

  “Oh!” Jacob said, taking Penelope by the hand. “I almost forgot to ask . . . how did it go in court today?”

  “Guilty on all counts.”

  Jacob gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m so proud of you, Penny. I want to hear all about it.”

  Penelope told Jacob all about her day, and twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” Jacob called.

  Dr. JR Bray, the attending physician, entered the room wearing surgical greens and a white lab coat with a stethoscope tucked into his pocket.

  The doctor adjusted his round wire-rimmed glasses and leafed through a chart. “Evening, Penelope. Mind if I interrupt? I’d like to see how our patient is doing.”

  Most of the hospital staff knew Penelope, not just as law enforcement, but also as Jacob’s fiancée.

  Penelope nodded. “He’s still a little loopy. It’s not serious, is it?” Panic and fear still lurked in the recesses of her mind. Jacob’s injuries had reminded her how much she had to lose.

  “Not at all,” Dr. Bray said. “But I would like to keep him overnight for observation.” He looked at Jacob. “I’m sure Dr. Gordon will feel right at home. He practically lives here, anyway.”

  The small joke about Jacob’s long hours would have gone over better in a different light. Five months ago Penelope would have responded to the joke with a quip of her own, something about Jacob being in love with his work. But tonight she couldn’t appreciate the humor.

  “Will you give us a minute?” Dr. Bray asked, snapping her back to the present.

  She blinked and looked at Jacob. He looked as if he were trying to read her thoughts. She flushed under his steady gaze. They were both in high-pressure lines of work, and they had what it took to be calm in a difficult situation. But tonight, Jacob was the only one taking this in stride.

  “Of course. I’ll be outside with Donny.”

  “Always on the job,” Jacob said with soft, smiling eyes. He meant it as a compliment, a personal joke. He pulled her in for another hug.

  She smelled his familiar cologne and tried not to hug him too hard. “Look who is talking.”

  He released his embrace and as she pulled away, he brushed a lock of hair from her face. He kissed her on the cheek and then said, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Penelope smiled and made her way to the door. She pulled her hair into a tight ponytail, and switched to cop mode.

  CHAPTER 12

  Outside of Jacob’s room, Detect
ive Donny Greene sipped a cup of vending machine coffee from a paper cup. His warm brown eyes studied Penelope. The thirty-five-year-old detective kept himself in great shape and never seemed to age. Donny credited his Italian genes for his perpetual tan, wrinkle-free face, full head of dark wavy hair, and ruggedly handsome good looks.

  “How’s the doc?” he asked.

  “A little banged up, but I think he’ll survive,” she said, closing the door behind her. “His doctor wants to keep him overnight. Seeing you here nearly scared the life out of me, Donny.”

  Donny flashed a playful smile. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

  “Don’t you typically work homicide?” she asked.

  “Not just homicide. Robbery, assault, arson, and missing persons, too—our division investigates most major crimes.”

  “So you caught this case?”

  “No, it’s not my case.”

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  “I heard the call . . . and when I found out who was involved . . . I asked if I could assist. I wasn’t sure if you had heard, so I called your boy DeBose over in Franklin. I thought you would have been here hours ago.”

  “I was in court all day and had my phone off.”

  “Ah, the Findley trial. Had I known where you were, I would have come and got you myself.”

  “Thanks, Donny. I appreciate that. So who’s the lead on the case?”

  “Detective Edward Ballard, I don’t think you know him. Thirty-five years with the Gainesville PD. A good cop, and a real by-the-book kind of guy, if you know what I mean.”

  “Did they take Jacob’s statement already?”

  “One of the uniformed officers got his preliminary statement, but I’m sure Ballard will want to talk to him in depth when he’s feeling better.”

  “Got any leads?”

  “Whoa, there, Chance. Slow down . . . I know what you’re thinking. You need to sit this one out. Ballard isn’t going to want you meddling in his case.”