One Last Scream (Special Agent Ricki James Book 2)

by C. R. Chandler

  Not waiting for an answer, Ricki ran back to Anchorman. She turned on the penlight and set it on the edge of the dumpster, pointing the beam toward her so Clay would be sure to see her. She knelt beside Anchorman and turned one of his wrists over, holding two fingers against the pulse point. It was thready and weak, and at one point her own heart rate spiked when she couldn’t feel it at all. She closed her eyes, held her own breath, and concentrated, finally picking up a faint beat against her fingertips.

  “Come on, Anchorman,” she half whispered, half prayed. “Stay with me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The hospital’s lobby boasted four chairs, one side table, and a folding table against one wall, on top of which was a single-cup coffee machine, some paper cups, and a bowl of coffee pods with a small sign asking that you place a quarter in a plastic cup next to the machine. Ricki had stuffed a dollar into the cup and had been drinking coffee on that credit, but the third cup she’d poured was still sitting on the table next to her chair, growing cold. She leaned back, resting her head against the wall, and closed her eyes.

  With the help of the young officer from Olympia, she and Clay had managed to get Anchorman into Clay’s SUV and to the hospital, where TK was waiting for them. He and Nancy Pritchard, his longtime nurse with a constantly good-natured disposition that made her a perfect match for the testy doctor, had whisked Anchorman into one of the two emergency bays and then banished everyone to the lobby.

  Clay had reluctantly returned to the fire, promising to tell Marcie and Sam about Anchorman as soon as he spotted them, leaving Ricki alone to fight a paralyzing fear. All during the ride to the hospital, her cook hadn’t moved or made a sound. His face had been pale and his breathing sporadic. She hadn’t seen any external wound, and she’d checked, which meant it could be that he’d been brought down by a natural cause, like a stroke or a heart attack. But that didn’t explain what he was doing in the alley, and her gut wasn’t buying it anyway. Which left the obvious. A drug overdose. But Anchorman taking drugs boggled the mind. Her gut shied away from that, too, as her thoughts continued to churn over possibilities at lightning speed.

  “Mom?”

  Her eyes snapped open and she sat up as Eddie squatted down in front of her. “Are you okay?”

  She reached over and cupped a hand against the side of his face, needing the contact, feeling it settle her feet more firmly on the ground. “What are you doing here, bud?”

  “We heard about the diner, and when we went over to check it out, we ran into Chief Thomas. He said we should come here and keep you company.” A tear slipped out of the corner of his eye and he impatiently swiped it away. “He wouldn’t tell us why. I thought you were hurt, but the chief said you weren’t, and you’d tell us what’s going on.”

  “Us?” Ricki looked up when the lobby door swung open, letting in a whoosh of cool night air. Bear stood aside and held the door to let a petite blond sweep past him.

  Eddie turned his head and followed her line of sight. “That’s Cathi,” he said. Looking back at his mom, he rolled his eyes. “Cathi with an i. She’s, uh, Dad’s new friend.”

  Despite the sick feeling in her stomach from worry over her cook, Ricki’s mouth twitched upward. “His new friend, huh? Does she happen to work at Mountain Outfitters?”

  Behind the lenses of his glasses, Eddie’s eyes blinked in surprise. “Yeah. Do you know her?”

  “Hmm.” Ricki let the noncommittal sound stand. Right at the moment, she didn’t care a fig about Cathi with an i. She captured Eddie’s hand and pulled, waiting until he was standing up before pointing to the chair next to him as Bear walked up with the blond at his side. “Sit down and I’ll fill you in.” Her glance included Bear, who stopped and looked toward the empty hall with the swinging doors leading into the emergency room. When he looked back, his gaze was filled with worry as he crossed his arms over his chest and waited silently.

  “It’s Anchorman. He’s in a bad way. I found him unconscious in an alley.”

  “Someone jumped Anchorman?” Eddie’s expression was as incredulous as the tone in his voice. He turned wide eyes up to his dad. “Could someone actually do that?”

  “No.” Bear’s answer was short and direct.

  The blond put a hand on his arm and gave him a sweet smile. “Now, babe. Anyone can be attacked these days. The world has gotten so out of control.” She switched her gaze and smile to Ricki. “Hi! I’m Cathi. And you must be the park ranger agent?”

  “Investigative agent,” Eddie cut in. “My mom chases really bad guys. Killers even.” He shifted in his chair, centering his attention on his mom as he pointedly ignored Cathi. “Is that what you were doing? Chasing someone who was after Anchorman?”

  Thinking she’d have a talk with her son later about his manners, as soon as she was done appreciating how quickly he’d jumped to her defense, Ricki barely managed to shake her head before Cathi piped up again. Her voice still held on to a sweet note, but now carried an underlying bite to it.

  “Oh my.” She made a slow scan of the lobby. “Did you catch the guy?”

  Ricki raised an eyebrow at Bear. She didn’t have the time or inclination to exchange words with his new companion, and knew she’d gotten that message across when her ex subtly shifted his body away from Cathi. He didn’t look over when the blond frowned at him, but kept his attention on Ricki. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Ricki laid a soothing hand on top of Eddie’s when he reached over and grasped her forearm. “When he was a no-show at the fire and Sam couldn’t find him at the usual places, we went looking.”

  Bear’s gaze narrowed. “We? Then you didn’t go out alone to search for him?”

  Ignoring the question, Ricki squeezed Eddie’s hand. “He was in an alley. Clay and I brought him here. TK and Nancy are back there with him.” She smiled at her son. “He’s going to be all right. We just have to wait.”

  The words were no sooner out of her mouth when TK pushed open the doors at the far end of the hall. He took several quick strides, his hawk-eyed gaze going over the small group in the lobby and settling on Eddie. Abruptly stopping in his tracks, he pointed at Ricki and gestured for her to come to him.

  Ricki took in a sharp breath. Oh God, oh God. She exchanged a quick, meaningful glance with Bear, before gently extricating her arm from Eddie’s grip and standing up. As Bear moved to stand next to their son, Ricki quickly made her way to TK, stopping close enough that their voices wouldn’t carry down the hallway.

  “Tell me quick,” she said, already bracing to hear the worst.

  “He’s still with us.”

  TK’s quick assurance brought on a wave of relief so intense she felt light-headed. Since TK was the only solid thing around, she closed her eyes and clapped a firm hand on the doctor’s shoulder to keep her knees from buckling. When she managed to take another breath, she slowly opened her eyes to find TK watching her intently.

  “Are you feeling better now? Standing firm in those boots of yours?” he asked. “Because there’s work to be done here. And fast.”

  Ricki kept her gaze on his as she locked her knees and her spine in place. “What needs to be done?”

  “I’ve got about one minute to get this all in, so pay attention,” TK commanded. “Someone put a drug in Anchorman. I can see the needle mark in his arm plain as day. And judging by the bruising already showing up at the injection site, whoever did it wasn’t too good at it. Which in my mind is the second reason he didn’t do this to himself.”

  She nodded, following his reasoning without needing any more explanation. Anchorman always mastered whatever he chose to do. He wouldn’t have left a bruise. And the first reason didn’t need to be said. The decorated sniper would never have taken a drug in the first place. Hell, the man didn’t even take aspirin for a headache. She knew that for a fact.

  “That minute is ticking away,” TK said. “My patient has to be watched like a hawk. I can’t take the time to arrange an airlift, bu
t he’s got to have one.”

  Ricki didn’t hesitate to reach for her phone. “I’ll take care of it.” She did a quick calculation in her head. There was a place near Dosewallips Road that could be used as a landing pad, but that was to the south of Brewer. The hospital was on the outskirts of Edington, which meant there was a closer option. “The parking lot of police headquarters? Bear can go over to clear it out.”

  “You do that. And tell that helicopter to get here quick.”

  She punched in the number for her uncle. Cy and Captain Davis of the Tacoma PD were close friends. He’d pick up Cy’s call and get those arrangements made faster than anyone else she could contact. It only took her thirty seconds to get hold of her uncle, explain the situation, and have him off and running. She hung up the phone and rejoined her family in the lobby just as Marcie and Sam came running through the outside doors.

  The waitress flew at Ricki, wrapping her arms around her boss’s lean frame. “Clay told us. How is he?” She reared back and searched Ricki’s face. “You’re not crying so he can’t be dead. I would see it on your face if the news was that bad.”

  “He’s not dead,” she said quietly, then repeated a little louder for everyone to hear. “He’s not dead. But he needs an airlift.” She caught Bear’s wide-eyed stare. “You to go over to police headquarters and make sure there aren’t any cars in the lot.”

  He frowned. “Geez, Ricki. It’s after two in the morning. There isn’t going to be anyone in the lot.”

  “Go and make sure,” Ricki stated, her voice flat and her tone hard. “We don’t need any last-minute surprises for that helicopter.” She pointed at Cathi. “And take her with you. She can help.”

  Bear looked from his ex-wife to the woman who was plastered to his side and then back again. “Look, Ricki. I can . . .”

  Was he kidding? She wasn’t about to get into a relationship discussion while Anchorman was lying on a hospital gurney, fighting for his life. “Get going. Time is everything here. Cy is making the arrangements right now for that chopper.” When he glanced at Eddie she growled out, “I’ll be sure he gets home. You go. Go now.”

  Without another word Bear whirled around and grabbed Cathi’s hand, forcing a squeak of alarm from the blond. He ignored it as he sprinted across the lobby, dragging her behind him. He’d no sooner disappeared into the night beyond the doors when Clay walked through them. He glanced back at the swinging doors as he strode into the lobby.

  “Where’s he off to?”

  Ricki quickly told him what was going on as he listened intently.

  “Okay. I’ll check with Captain Davis on the airlift, see if I can get an ETA.”

  She nodded. “TK will want to monitor on the way to the parking lot. Can we use your SUV as transport?”

  Sam held out his hand. “If you give me the keys, Chief, I’ll put the back seat down and get everything ready inside.”

  Clay tossed him the keys. “Thanks. The back seat is still down, but I threw some stuff back there that needs to be cleared out.”

  “What can I do?” Marcie asked. “I need something to do.”

  Ricki glanced over at her son. “Take Eddie back to the cabin and stay with him until I can get there.” When her son opened his mouth in protest, she walked over and knelt in front of him. “We’re going to be racing out of here with Anchorman as soon as that helicopter is close. Corby needs some company and we’ll all need some food when we’re done. Think you can handle that?” She worked up a grin, trying for as much normal as she could. “And maybe you could do me a favor and call and deal with your dad? He won’t be happy about you jumping ship to come home a day early.”

  Eddie shoved his glasses up his nose, then quickly nodded. “I can do that.”

  Marcie walked over and put an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “We’ll head out as soon as you get Anchorman on his way to that helicopter.” She smiled at Eddie’s upturned face. “That sound good to you?”

  It was another fifteen minutes before Ricki’s phone rang, with Captain Davis on the other end. Once she’d identified herself, the chief didn’t bother with a greeting. “The airlift is on its way, and it’s just under twenty minutes out.”

  “Thanks,” Ricki said. “We’ll be there. And, Chief? I owe you.”

  “No, you don’t. Now get going.” The connection broke off, so Ricki tucked her phone in her pocket. “Twenty minutes,” she called out to Clay then sprinted down the hallway.

  It was half an hour later that Ricki, Clay, and TK stood in the parking lot of the headquarters shared by the local police and park rangers, and watched the Life Flight lift into the air with Anchorman on board.

  “They know what’s what,” TK said gruffly. “The university’s hospital is a good one. They’ll take care of him.” He turned to his nurse, who’d followed behind the SUV in TK’s station wagon, and handed her the white handkerchief in his hand. “Here. Take care of this, would you?” He exchanged it for the brown paper bag she was holding out for him. He thrust the bag at Ricki.

  “Those are Anchorman’s belongings. Everything he came in with. I know you’ll see that he gets them back.” He stepped away and cleared his throat. “I don’t want him showing up on my doorstep and accusing me of being a thief.”

  Knowing the doctor didn’t mean a word of that, Ricki clutched the bag to her chest before looking back up at the sky, watching the lights of the helicopter fade off into the distance. Clay stood beside her, not saying anything, but he didn’t have to. Now that they’d done all they could for Anchorman, she could feel the same anger building in him that was filling her. She finally lowered her gaze and turned around to face TK.

  “I’m going to find out who did this.”

  The doctor held her gaze for a long moment before giving a curt nod. “We’re all counting on it.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Sheer exhaustion had forced Ricki into sleep just as night was giving way to the sun’s march over the horizon, but two hours later she sat up from her temporary bed on the couch and looked around with bleary eyes. It took her a moment to remember why she’d crashed downstairs as she stared blindly over at the coffeepot. Marcie was in her bed. That was right. Marcie had brought Eddie home last night and stayed with her son while she’d been making arrangements for Anchorman.

  Her eyes blinked wide and immediately she reached for her phone. She quickly searched for the number of the University Medical Center, then waited impatiently to be connected. A polite voice answered and then transferred her to what she said was the correct floor. Ricki’s heart dropped when the phone was answered with a brisk “Intensive Care Unit.”

  Identifying herself, Ricki went through the “Are you family?” routine and—since she had to reluctantly admit that, technically at least, she was not—ended up being told exactly nothing on Anchorman’s condition. She even tried pulling the law enforcement card and was met with the same polite refusal. She applauded the privacy laws, but right at that moment she could have dropped them into the nearest toilet.

  Sighing, she hung up and tapped out another number, but she only reached TK’s answering service, which apparently, he still used despite the fact he was retired. When the woman on the other end asked if it was an emergency, Ricki wrestled with her conscience before finally letting reason win out over emotion and said no. She made a quick glance at her watch. TK would have made it to his bed about the same time she’d hit the couch, which was all of two hours ago. He would still be sound asleep, and he needed to be.

  She also needed to stay on his better side since it looked like he was the only source of information she’d have on Anchorman’s condition. She was sure that the polite person in the ICU wouldn’t decline to tell the doctor what Ricki wanted to know.

  She just hoped TK wouldn’t retreat into one of his pissier moods and refuse to pass the information along to her. Remembering the interactions between the doctor and Clay, she made a mental note to be sure she was the one doing the asking. And to tell tha
t to the Bay’s chief of police the first chance she got.

  Despite the fact that Clay didn’t get to bed any sooner than the rest of them, she picked up her phone again, intent on calling him. He could sleep later. They needed to get to work. He could sleep later. And the fact was, right now she needed the connection.

  Just then her stomach let out a growl loud enough that Corby, who had been asleep in his favorite place under the window, lifted his head and stared at her. The big dog must have taken the sound as a signal that breakfast was to be served, because he got to his feet, did a slow stretch, and then leisurely walked over to his empty food bowl by the kitchen counter.

  In spite of the potent mixture of fear and anger roiling through her system on a constant boil, Ricki’s mood lifted. Trust a dog to know that no matter what was going on, a body still needed to see to the basics. Like food.

  “Yeah. Okay. Hang on a minute.” Tucking the phone into the back pocket of the jeans she’d slept in, Ricki padded her way in stockinged feet to the large bag of dog food tucked into the corner of the kitchen, bending down to swoop up Corby’s bowl along the way. She quickly measured out the cup and a half of food he got for his morning meal, then added a few dry treats from the small container on the counter before delivering it back to Corby. He wasted no time attacking the bowl, shoving his nose deep into the food and crunching loud enough to fill the room with noise. Giving him a pat on his large head, Ricki straightened up, intending to make a quick raid of the refrigerator. What she really needed was coffee. Desperately at this point. But there was no way her stomach would tolerate the half-sludge, half-water mixture that was how coffee always came out when she brewed it.

  Her gaze fell on the paper bag TK had given her the night before. Anchorman’s belongings. A suspicion that had taken hold in a corner of her mind had her forgetting about coffee or food. She stepped around her dog and reached for the paper bag. Dumping the contents onto the counter, she paused when Marcie’s voice, thick with sleep, called out.