Book'em Sadie (Iron Badges #1)

by Danielle Norman

  Book ‘em Sadie

  Iron Badges

  Danielle Norman

  Copyright © 2019 by Danielle Norman

  and F Squared, LLP

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission from either the author and or the above named publisher of this book with the exception for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction.

  The name Danielle Norman® is a registered Trademark

  This is dedicated to the real Lizzy. You my dear, are a clitcake.

  In the end, death will always find us, there is no escape. It is what we do with our life from our first breath until our last that matters.

  Don’t be like Lizzy, don’t be a clitcake.

  And though she be but little,

  she is fierce.

  - William Shakespeare

  Contents

  Prologue- Sadie

  Prologue- Ryan

  1. Sadie

  2. Ryan

  3. Sadie

  4. Sadie

  5. Ryan

  6. Sadie

  7. Sadie

  8. Callie

  9. Ryan

  10. Sadie

  11. Ryan

  12. Sadie

  13. Ryan

  14. Ryan

  15. Sadie

  16. Sadie

  17. Ryan

  18. Sadie

  19. Callie

  20. Ryan

  21. Sadie

  22. Ryan

  23. Sadie

  24. Ryan

  25. Ryan

  26. Sadie

  27. Sadie

  28. Sadie

  29. Ryan

  Epilogue

  Meet Danielle

  Lets Socialize

  Also by Danielle Norman

  Enough

  Stetson

  Getting Even

  Thank You

  Prologue- Sadie

  The bond that ties us is angels…

  Twenty-four years ago

  “Hi, Daddy.” I yawned and rolled onto my back. Daddy was sitting on the edge of my big-girl bed, and he was crying. Daddy cried a lot.

  “Sadie, do you know what an angel is?”

  I nodded because I was a big girl, I knew what angels were. Daddy was so silly. “Yes, Daddy, we put an angel on the Christmas tree. She’s beautiful.”

  “That is one type of angel. But people can be angels too.”

  “I know, Mommy said that she’s going to be an angel soon. She said that since I have you, God needs her to take care of some of the other little children in Heaven who don’t have a mommy or a daddy. But I can still talk to her whenever I want. She’ll always be near and be listening.”

  “That’s right, and even though you might not be able to see her, if you close your eyes, you’ll be able to feel her.”

  “Okay, Daddy.” I didn’t know why Daddy was talking about this, Mommy had already told me about being able to talk to her. She was even getting ready for her halo. God had to make her hair fall out so when she put on her halo it wouldn’t slip. The lady who came to our house every day to check on Mommy said that the tubes were to help her breathe, because the air in Heaven was different and Mommy had to get used to it.

  “Sadie . . .”

  “What, Daddy? Why are you crying?”

  “Mommy is now an angel.”

  Prologue- Ryan

  Death was what we had in common…

  Four years ago

  “Multi-car wreck, female, thirty years old, heart stopped on the way here,” Logan called out as he and his partner pushed the stretcher into the ER.

  “Follow me,” Polly said, rounding the corner of the nurses’ station and falling into sync with the paramedics’ rushed steps as she directed them toward the operating room. I slid my hands into gloves and moved into the room just as they were transferring the patient to the table.

  “Let’s get X-rays. Whoever is available from surgery, get them in here and prepped. Let’s get the IV started. Has anyone gotten a blood type yet?” I continued to call out standard protocols based on what little information I had as I moved around the room. That was when a team of nurses closed in to prep the victim and remove the scarlet-stained bandages from her head and limbs.

  Polly whimpered, but I ignored her as the heart and blood pressure monitors started blaring alarms. I turned, my eyes jumping to the long, flat line on the screen, I was ready to lurch forward and begin chest compressions on the woman who had gone into cardiac arrest. That’s when my whole world dropped out from beneath me. My breath stalled, and my heart beat furiously, as if it could beat for two people, unfortunately not for the woman lying on the table.

  In those brief tenths of a second, I took in the changes around me, a calm in the air, a chill in the temperature, it was as if a squall line had swept in. My mind refused to believe what my eyes were telling me, and I was pretty sure I shuffled back a step. As if the distance, no matter how small it was, would break whatever fucking illusion was in front of me.

  “Dr. Montgomery.” Polly squeezed my arm as her voice cracked over her words.

  Real.

  This was real, and I was just standing there. I would rip my own damn heart out if it meant she would live.

  My wife.

  It was choreographed chaos. One nurse attached pads, one to Deirdre’s chest and one to her back, then moved to start an IV. Dr. Ragland held a tube and began intubating while Polly started chest compressions.

  He had stepped in when I couldn’t, when I was too shocked and confused to move.

  “Epinephrine,” Dr. Ragland called out and a dose was shot into Deirdre’s IV. That was followed by five more rounds of chest compressions. “Epinephrine.” It was a cycle, repeated every three to five minutes.

  “I’m calling it, time of death, seven fourteen.” He stepped back, and our eyes locked.

  “No.” I charged him. “Fine, I’ll do it.” I placed my hands on Deirdre’s chest, one on top of the other, and pressed in the center. “Beat, damnit, beat. You can’t do this to me. Beat.”

  “Everyone, clear the room, let’s give Dr. Montgomery some space.”

  “Don’t you dare leave this room. You’re not done. Keep working. Do you hear me? I said to keep working.” How could they do this to her? Deirdre was a doctor too, they knew her, they worked with her.

  “Ryan.” I jerked from Dr. Ragland’s touch. “I’m going to give you some time.”

  “Time? I was supposed to have years. That’s the time I wanted.” People moved past me, their hands grazing my arm for comfort. Comfort? Really, there was no such thing as comfort.

  “Dr. Montgomery.”

  I threw my hand back and pushed Polly away. “Get away from me, don’t talk to me, you should have kept doing chest compressions. You gave up on her. Get away from me.” The sound of scampering feet on the travertine tile soothed me.

  When the only sound in the room was the humming of the fluorescent lights above, I bent over Deirdre. I trailed my index finger down the bridge of her nose before bending and pressing my forehead against hers. I wanted to say something, anything, “Aggggghhh.”

  Today had been the day for a lot of lasts—the last morning to make love to her, the last morning to hand her a cup of coffee, the last morn
ing to watch as she dressed our daughter Callie. “Noooo.” The bark of pain that shot through my knees as they hit the unforgiving tile was nothing compared to the agony shredding everything that lived inside me. The shaking in my hands made it almost impossible to grasp Deirdre’s hand when I reached for it. “Callie, you can’t leave Callie, she needs you. I can’t do this alone, I don’t know how—”

  “This is your fault.”

  I turned my burning eyes to the doorway, to Deirdre’s mother, who was standing just inside the room staring at me with nothing but unfettered hatred in her eyes.

  “You did this to her. My daughter’s dead because of you.”

  “Louise, calm down,” Fred, Deirdre’s father, tried to reason with her.

  “No. If he loved her, then he would have allowed her to be a stay-at-home mom and raise her daughter. She’d still be at home with Callie and not sprawled out on some cold piece of metal.”

  “Louise, stop it.” Fred wiped his own tears as he tried to hold Louise back. “Deirdre didn’t want to be a stay-at-home mom, she loved being a doctor. We have a beautiful granddaughter because she knew that Ryan would support her.”

  “No. Louise is right.” I was still kneeling beside the operating table, and I curled in on myself, burying my face against where I still clutched Deirdre’s hand. “I should have forced the issue. If I had, I’d still have my wife and Callie would still have her mother.”

  “See? He’s the reason she’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave.” Polly stood in the open doorway. Louise’s eyes went molten with anger, but Polly stepped forward. “A woman has lost her life today, a husband lost his wife, and a daughter lost her mother. I don’t know who you are, but I suggest you remember that before you say anything else. This is a hospital, have some respect.”

  “I am her mother!” A lilac painted nail pointed directly at Deirdre. “You cannot kick me out.”

  “I can, and I will. Your being her mother makes your behavior even more deplorable. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  Fred, being far more reasonable than his wife, nodded. “I apologize if we’ve caused a disruption. This is a . . . shock. We’ll go wait in the waiting room. Would you please come get us . . .” Louise started to argue, but Fred grabbed her arm and hauled her back out to the hallway, Polly following and shutting the door softly behind her.

  Hours later, I made it home, not sure how, but I did. I didn’t sleep, and when the sun rose the next morning, I watched it with disdain. My wife would never see another sunrise. More anger followed as my day unfolded. Contempt for the second mug I pulled from the cabinet out of habit. Contempt for the neighbor who hugged her husband in the doorway before he left for work. Fury at every other driver on the road as I made my way to the funeral home.

  I was glad my mom stayed with Callie. My daughter didn’t need to see the way I sat in my car in the parking lot and broke.

  Tuesday . . . I went to work. Busy. I needed to stay busy.

  “Ryan, do you have a moment?” I turned to Dr. Mike Gallway, one of the hospital’s grief counselors. He was nice and all, I just didn’t need anyone trying to get me to talk about my feelings.

  “I know why you’re here. I don’t need you.”

  “I beg to differ. Besides, you’ve been ordered to come see me.” Mike handed me a piece of paper.

  I sat in his office, listening to him talk about grief and healing as I stared out the window that overlooked the courtyard. In the middle was a statue of the Mother Mary. Mother . . . my daughter no longer had a mother. The statue was added to the long, long list of things that I hated.

  1

  Sadie

  Damn, I made this shit look good.

  I stared at myself in the mirror for what had to be the tenth time this morning, making sure that my pins were perfect and my shirt was pressed. The only things that weren’t sexy were the boots, but hey, I didn’t mind them, since they were part of the standard uniform of all motorcycle deputies. Who would have ever guessed that I, Sadie Kathryn Lazar, would become a motorcycle deputy? I still got butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it. I mean . . . why wouldn’t I? I was getting ready to roll out on two wheels of county-owned property, and it would be up to me to save the people of Orange County, Florida from danger. Okay, more often than not I was saving them from their own stupidity, and I wasn’t doing it alone, but whatever. There were other deputies and city police officers and state troopers, but I was part of that team. I was twenty-eight fucking years old, and even though I wasn’t a kid any longer, this was a lot of responsibility. A lot of pressure.

  I grew up watching Cops with my daddy. I was all about bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do thanks to that show, and I never wavered from my career choice.

  My ten-minute warning alarm signaled it was time for me to get my ass in gear. After sliding my gun into its holster, I grabbed my helmet and marched out of my small duplex. I opened the door to my tiny garage, which was truly meant for storage, and rolled out my motorcycle before reporting in to dispatch.

  “Thirteen twenty-two, ten-eight.”

  “Orange County copies. 05:57 hours.” Dispatch confirmed that I was logged in and on duty.

  I fired the engine on my bike and then rolled back on the throttle. To many, the roar of the engine might as well have been a foreign language, but to me, it was my native tongue.

  As the early morning sun warmed my cheeks and the wind whipped against me, I hummed and maneuvered through the rush-hour traffic. It wasn’t even ten minutes after beginning my shift that my call signal rang out across the radio.

  “Thirteen twenty-two.”

  “Thirteen twenty-two, go ahead.”

  “Are you available to support a search at Mills and Colonial?”

  “Ten-four, show me fifty-one, be there in under five.” After letting dispatch know that I was on my way and less than five minutes out, I upped my speed, only slowing when I spotted the three deputy vehicles along a side road. “Hey, what’s going on?” I asked Colton. The guy had been on the force about as long as I had.

  “Hey, Sadie, this is one of those stories that is totally Cops worthy.”

  “Oh, do tell.”

  “It seems that Wanda”—he pointed to a tall woman in gold stilettos and a catsuit (the pleather kind, not the furry kind)—“and her best friend Pammy are no longer best friends.”

  “Why?” I asked with all the fake concern I could muster, and Colton nodded with his own fake concern for their friendship.

  “Wanda believes that Pammy stole her client.”

  “Well, that isn’t a very best friend-like thing to do, is it?”

  “Nope. Not at all.” Colton was clearly trying to keep himself from laughing.

  “Apparently, his name is John, and he’s a very loyal . . . client.” Colton raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s six o’clock in the fucking morning. If that doesn’t say loyal, I don’t know what does. So, why the sudden change of heart from our friend John the Client?”

  “Oh.” Colton finally lost it and let out a chuckle. “I’ll let them tell you. I don’t want to deprive you of any of the joy.” Colton gave me a knowing grin and I shook my head as I flipped him off and made my way over to the two women.

  I walked over. “Oh, good, missy, you need to arrest her. She’s a thief.”

  “I ain’t no thief, I’m a hooker.” I looked over my shoulder to Colton, who had moved to stand with Dan and Enzo. All three were watching me with bored expressions. I knew better, and would pay each one of them back for this nonsense. Three male deputies, and they called me.

  “Ladies, since the dispute has to do with business, this is actually a civil case and not criminal. You need to get an attorney and sue through the courts. Perhaps you can even try to get loss of income.” Yeah, I said that last part with a straight face, looking to all the world like nothing more than a helpful officer handing out helpful advice.

  “Wanda, I ain
’t taking no Johns from you,” Pammy said. “I’m gonna be truthful, okay? I stole some of your Oxys. But, girl, you got so many from that guy you blew, you didn’t even miss none.”

  I wanted to groan. Fuck, I needed to do a search.

  “Okay, ladies,” I said as I pulled out black plastic gloves. “I’m going to need you to step away from each other. If you could please face the car.”

  “What you doing, bitch? You ain’t arresting her, she’s my best friend.” Wanda, who just seconds ago was claiming that they were no longer friends, looked ready to fight for said friendship.

  “Ma’am, I’m going to need for you to step back unless you would like to wait in the back of one of those patrol cars.” Being called a bitch was my official breaking point. For a second, I thought she was going to argue, but then Enzo opened the door for her and she quickstepped back four or five paces. Pammy didn’t bother to argue as she assumed the position and pressed her palms flat.

  Between the two women, I found seven Oxycontin and a few rocks of heroine, so off to the station they went.

  By mid-morning, the heat coming off the asphalt mixed with the hot engine made sitting in traffic feel like being in a sauna. I was sure that I wouldn’t be half as miserable if the county got with the program and stopped making us wear polyester. It was plastic for god’s sake. But I was in no position to complain, since I was still technically a rookie—well, a rookie motors deputy. I’d been a deputy for a few years, which was required to interview for a position on the motor squad.