“Callahan?”
Ben lifted his head and slid the shift supervisor a sideways glance. “Yeah?”
The captain wore his uniform like a Brooks Brothers suit and never failed to comb his hair back with something slick and sweet smelling before he came on duty. Tonight he’d added a gold chain to his ensemble. Ben figured he either had a crush on the cleaning lady or himself; he wasn’t sure which.
He pointed in Ben’s direction. “Brody called in sick. I’m going to need you to stick around until I can find someone to take his shift.”
“Aw, Cap. Come on.” He rose to address his boss. “I’m beat. Send Fisher or Cappalini.”
“Fisher’s already left and Cappalini’s wife went into labor three hours ago.” The captain shrugged. “That leaves you to ride along with Abrego. If it’s any consolation, Vinson will probably jump at the chance for overtime. He’s got those two kids in college now, and he’s forever pestering me. Anyway, I left two messages.”
Ben sank onto the bench. Even if he’d managed to gather the strength to protest, what would he say? All he could do was pray there would be no more calls before Vinson arrived.
Before he could fashion an official prayer, the radio crackled to life and another emergency call came in. He hit the rig running, then waited while Jerry Abrego slipped behind the wheel.
When Jerry called out the address, Ben froze. “Say that again.” Of all the places to be called to, his exhaustion level aside, this one was the worst.
Jerry repeated the address.
Callahan & Callahan. Last time he left there, he swore to his father he’d never return. Four years, three months, and five days later, here he was, rolling toward it with lights flashing and sirens screaming. So much for getting in and out without his father seeing him.
Ben checked his watch. “It’s a quarter to two in the morning. Are you sure this isn’t a crank call? That’s a department store.”
Jerry shrugged and threw the vehicle into gear. “All I know is we got a call there’s a dead woman inside the Cade’s Point Boulevard window.”
As the unit rolled toward its destination, Ben felt his heart begin to pound. Get it together, Callahan. You’ve got a job to do.
“You all right, Callahan?”
He cast a sideways glance at Jerry. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”
“I heard you all blew out the old record last shift.”
“Probably.”
Ben scraped his fingers through his hair and focused on the road ahead. Two more turns and the building would come into view. He gripped the door handle and paced his breathing as they headed left on Riverside, then sped through the light at Wayland to turn onto Cade’s Point Boulevard.
A police cruiser sat waiting, lights flashing. Jerry cut the siren and pulled up beside the officer.
“Over there.” He pointed to the sole illuminated window, then gestured toward a man seated in the back of the cruiser. “That guy found her. Photographer. Seems as though he thought to get the scoop on these windows. Didn’t expect to find a body when he looked inside that little tear in the paper.”
“Male or female?” Jerry asked.
“Female,” came the response.
While Jerry radioed the captain, Ben jumped out and grabbed his equipment before trotting toward the window. Forget where you are, Callahan. This has nothing to do with Elias Callahan.
“Anyone call the store manager?” he tossed over his shoulder.
“Not yet,” the officer said. “Figured I’d wait until we knew what we had on our hands first.”
“Probably could wait until morning at this point.” The last person he needed to see tonight was his sister.
Ben shrugged off the last of his ire and leaned against the window at the spot the officer directed. Sure enough, a fair-haired woman lay prone beside what looked like a roaring fire. While he watched, her fingers twitched and she reached to rub her eyes.
“She’s not dead!” he called as he tapped on the window. “I think she’s sleeping!”
“Sleeping?” Jerry jogged up beside him. “Are you kidding?”
“Best I can tell through that little tear in the brown paper.” Ben pointed to the spot. “Look for yourself, Jerry.”
He did, then shook his head. “Don’t that beat all?”
While Jerry went over to speak to the officer, Ben continued his efforts to awaken Sleeping Beauty. A moment later, the officer left with the newsman still seated in the back of the cruiser.
“Any luck?” Jerry asked.
“Not yet. What’s the story with the guy in the cop car?”
Jerry shrugged. “I just got him for trespassing. Seems as though he was on the roof trying to shoot pictures through a skylight.”
“Yeah, that’ll get you in trouble every time.”
“Especially at two in the morning.” Jerry peered in at the woman. “How about I do the paperwork while you beat on the window some more?”
“I’ve got an idea.” Ben nodded toward the unit. “How about you hit the siren a couple of times? I think that ought to do it.”
When Jerry complied, the woman on the floor sat bolt upright. Ben tapped on the glass.
“Ma’am? City of Cade’s Point EMT here! You need to come on out!”
She seemed bewildered and a bit lost. When he repeated his command, she rose and stood in the center of the window. Once more he tapped on the glass. This time she followed the sound.
A single eye peered back at him through the tear in the paper. It was blue—the color of a summer sky over the Pacific.
Ben took a step back, then tapped once more on the glass. “Come on out now! It’s time to go home!”
She pulled the paper back at the corner and shook her head. Her lips moved but he couldn’t quite make out what she said. Repeating his demand had the same effect.
He walked over to the trash can and yanked out a fast-food bag, tossing the contents back into the container. Come Out of There, he wrote on the bag, then walked back to the window to show it to the woman.
To his surprise, she lifted the corner of the paper to look out, then shook her head and disappeared. A moment later, she returned with a piece of what looked like a sales receipt. I Can’t. The Door Is Locked was written on the back of the receipt.
Open It. You Are the One Inside.
The woman made a face as she wrote, then lifted the receipt into view. I Can’t. I Don’t Have a Key and the Alarm Will Go Off.
He responded with a quick, It’s Okay. The Police Are Already Here.
She shook her head. I Will Lose My Job if My Boss Finds Out.
He gave this last claim a bit of thought. Alexis had the reputation of being a tough cookie, but would she fire someone for falling asleep on the job? Probably. She once gave away a puppy because it refused to come when she called. Then there was the episode with the peace-loving Chinese fighting fish.
Ben sighed then wrote, Who Else Has a Key?
The woman turned the receipt over and scribbled, Mr. Riley.
Mr. Riley. Hal Riley. Ben smiled.
As a kid, he’d followed Hal all over Callahan & Callahan, and the old fellow never once complained or failed to answer any of his questions. The man must be well past retirement age by now.
Give Me a Minute and I Will Get You Out.
Before she showed him what she wrote, she pointed to the glass. Do Not Break This Window.
Suppressing a chuckle, he gave her the thumbs-up sign.
She nodded and crumpled the receipt, then tossed it behind her. As he walked back to the rig, he couldn’t help but wonder why he was going to so much trouble for a total stranger.
It didn’t take him long to find Hal Riley’s number; it was the same one he’d had for six decades. He answered as if he were sitting by the phone and said he’d be up at the store in under fifteen minutes.
Hal made it in ten, and despite the fact that he kept stopping to hug Ben, he found the proper key and fitted it into the side door nearest t
he window where Sleeping Beauty had been held prisoner.
“Thanks, Hal,” Ben said once the door swung open.
The ancient security guard replied, “Anything for you, Bennie.”
“No one’s called me that in years.”
“Well, now, I guess I should have called you Corporal Bennie.” Mr. Riley looked him up and down. “Only it don’t look like you’re still on Uncle Sam’s payroll.”
“No, sir. I’ve been with the City of Cade’s Point almost a year now.”
“Well, how about that? Wonder why your daddy didn’t mention that you were back in town.”
Ignoring the question, Ben stepped inside. The familiar scent of designer suits, expensive perfume, and big money stopped him in his tracks. If Hal noticed Ben’s discomfort, he had the kindness not to comment. Rather, the old man weaved his way through the darkened aisles with the expertise of a man who’d been clocking in at Callahan & Callahan since Eisenhower sat in the White House.
Ben, on the other hand, stumbled and picked his way through the maze, unable to match Hal’s pace. He did fine, even at his slower pace, until he slammed his knee against the umbrella display.
“Want me to hit the lights, Bennie?” Hal called.
“No, don’t do that. I’m fine.” He wasn’t, but somehow it seemed appropriate to be entering Callahan & Callahan in the dead of night under cover of darkness.
“Oh, there you are!” he heard a voice call. “You all just don’t know how glad I am to see you.”
Definitely not from around here, Ben decided from the way she drew out her words. Beautiful, he realized when he turned the corner and caught sight of her.
The woman came his way, right hand outstretched. Before he realized what happened, she was shaking his hand. Those eyes, much prettier when viewed without the glass between them, peered up at him with what looked like a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion.
“Casey. Casey Forrester. I don’t know what I would have done without you, Officer.”
“I’m not an officer.” He withdrew his hand. “I just work for the city.”
She studied his face for a second, then her attention fell to his lapel. “Callahan.” Her gaze met his, the exhaustion turned to amusement. “Same as the store. What are the odds?”
Here we go. How he hated having to explain away his connection to the Callahan fortune—or rather his lack of it.
“Yeah, what are the odds?” He caught Mr. Riley staring and gave the old man a wave. “Appreciate the help, Hal.”
“Anytime,” he said. “You take care.”
Ben responded, then turned and headed for the door. Between his forced return to the store and the sleepy-eyed blond, he’d just made a memory he’d be hard pressed to forget. The sooner he got out of here, the better.
Chapter 3
"Hey, hold on a minute, Officer Callahan!”
Casey picked up her pace to try and catch the long-legged fellow who’d just saved her budding career from ruin. Unfortunately, the man seemed more intent on getting out of the department store than in obliging her by slowing down.
“Wait,” she called, “these are not my running heels!”
As soon as his broad shoulders cleared the front door, he whirled around to stare at her. She grabbed the door to keep from slamming into him.
“I told you I’m not an officer.”
And you’re not very nice right now, either. She upped her smile in the hopes his grim look might soften. It didn’t. All right. Plan B.
“Sorry. The uniform confuses me. Back home, only cops and security guards wear that. But then the closest hospital’s a ‘fur piece,’ as my granny always says.”
Casey waited for the medic to smile. He didn’t.
Plan C.
“Look, I just want you to know I’m really grateful to you for being my Prince Charming and rescuing me from the tower tonight. If anyone found out I was sleeping on the job, I’d probably be headed back to the Ozarks for Christmas.”
Again she waited for some sort of smile, maybe even a glint of amusement in those ocean blue eyes. Again, nothing.
“Honestly, you saved me from a huge mess. Can’t I repay you in some way? Maybe take you out for doughnuts and coffee?”
“It’s not necessary, really. That’s my job, ma’am,” he finally said without enthusiasm. “I’m no Prince Charming, but if you appreciate the service, call the city manager.”
“I’ll do that.” She gave him a playful nudge. “Shall I mention you by name?”
The paramedic raked his hands through his surfer-style hair and sighed. “That won’t be necessary. Just tell him it was Prince Charming.”
“Oh, I’ll do that, but I’ll still make good on that coffee and doughnuts. Just name the place.”
Casey waited for the grin that would indicate he was teasing. It never came.
Without a Plan D, she shrugged and walked past the Callahan fellow. Odd that a man who makes his living helping people would be so crabby.
Stifling a yawn, Casey settled behind the wheel of her VW Bug and stabbed the key into the ignition. Maybe the Cade’s Point paramedic was tired, too.
The car protested rather than started, a usual occurrence lately. Casey pulled out the key, counted to five, and replaced the key in the ignition.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the EMT approaching. Rolling down the window, she waved at the Callahan fellow. “It does this all the time,” she said when he reached her window.
For the first time, she saw something besides aggravation on the man’s face. He actually looked concerned. “You sure?”
Casey offered a genuine smile. “Positive.”
She turned the key and prayed as the engine cranked to life on the third try. Someday she’d have to replace the only car she’d ever owned. In the meantime, she gave thanks that she had no car note to pay.
“All right then.” He glanced over his shoulder, then back at her. “Hey; you’re welcome.” The paramedic stuck his hand through the open window. “Ben Callahan.”
Casey smiled and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ben Callahan. I’m Casey Forrester.”
“So you said.” His gaze swept across her face. “Get some sleep, okay?”
What beautiful blue eyes. Focus, Casey. “I’m headed home.”
His badge glinted silver under the streetlight as he took a step backward. “Would you like us to follow you to be sure you’re all right?”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you, though.”
He stayed a moment longer, then gave her a nod and turned to sprint toward the waiting vehicle. Before she could shift the Bug into drive, the paramedics had pulled onto Cade’s Point Boulevard.
Casey slowed for the stoplight at Riverside and Cade’s Point Boulevard. Up ahead she could see the vehicle signal to turn left, then disappear down Grant Drive.
“Well, that was an interesting night, Lord.” As she crossed Grant Drive, she looked to her left and saw the ambulance off in the distance. “And an interesting man, too.”
~
Exhaustion rolled over Ben like the waves at Cade’s Beach, each one dragging him further toward the oblivion of sleep. Maybe he’d bunk upstairs tonight instead of going home. When he got this tired, any bed would do. Besides, he had too much to think about and not nearly enough functioning brain cells to do the thinking.
Stepping back into the world he swore he had left for good was enough to do any man in. Combine that with meeting a woman who’d literally taken his breath away, and he was a goner.
Ben closed his eyes. Lord, what are You up to? I thought we had a deal.
“Well, that was different.”
He opened his eyes and glanced over at Jerry, then let out a long breath. “Yeah. Different.”
“Who woulda thought our dead girl in the store window would turn out to be sleeping?” Jerry shook his head. “It takes all kinds. She was a cute thing, though.”
“Yeah. Cute.” Ben closed his eyes. When he opened them, Jerry had be
gun his turn into the station. A quick glance at the parking lot told him his replacement had not yet arrived.
“Hey, I’ll do the paperwork on this one, then I’m heading home.” Jerry cut the engine and released his seat belt. “You go get some shut-eye. If the boss wants someone to roll out again tonight, he’s gonna have to do it himself.”
As tempting as that sounded, Ben wouldn’t leave his post. Even if it hadn’t officially been his shift any longer for several hours.
“I’m fine.” He gestured toward the stairs. “Look, I’m going to find an empty bunk. Tell the boss if he needs me, call me, okay?’
“Yeah, whatever.” Jerry pointed to the closed door of the supervisor’s office. “I still say he can handle this himself. What is it with you? Don’t you understand this is just a job?”
Despite his exhaustion, Ben smiled. “You really want me to answer that?”
Jerry nodded. “Sure.”
“It’s like this. If you knew someone really important—someone like the city manager or maybe the mayor, with the power to decide your future—was watching you work, wouldn’t you do the best job you could for him?”
He palmed the keys and leaned against the front bumper. “Sure, who wouldn’t?”
“Exactly. That’s how it works with me and God. Even when no one else is watching, He is.” Noting Jerry’s surprised expression, Ben shrugged. “I don’t want to sound like I’m preaching or anything, but you asked.”
“Anybody else said something like that to me and I’d be tempted to call it preaching. You?” He slapped Ben on the back. “You’re the real deal. I’m glad you’ve got something to believe in.”
You could, too, he wanted to say. Instead he smiled and parted company with a handshake and a quick, “Anytime you want to know more, I’m here.”
As he lay in his bunk a short while later, Ben’s thoughts drifted between what to say to Jerry next time he asked about the Lord and whether he should call to check up on Sleeping Beauty. The issue with Jerry was much more important than a slight infatuation with a blond Kate Hudson look-alike, and yet Ben knew that when the time came, the Lord would give him the right words to speak to the searching paramedic.
Dreaming of a White Christmas Page 2
