Chapter 14
Fourteen
Jackson walked into the station at six thirty for his seven a.m. shift.
“Doc? You’re here early.” Steven Wylie, a paramedic on the third shift, set down his coffee mug, sympathy in his dark-blue eyes. “You doing all right?”
Jackson ran his hands over his face. Every time he’d closed his eyes last night, he’d seen Dylan in some horrible situation. “I’ll deal. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I might as well come here and be useful.”
“It’s been a quiet night. I hate to break it to you, but someone drank the last Mountain Dew. Want some coffee?”
Jackson shuddered. “Did you make it?”
“Hey! My coffee is better than Swanny’s.”
“Barely, bro.” Despite the jesting, he headed to the coffeepot and poured a steaming mug.
He pulled out his phone, which had died last night, and plugged it into one of the chargers they kept on the counter.
He hadn’t even thought to check it the night before, which was unlike him.
One more sign of how distressed he was. He needed caffeine, regardless of taste.
He’d pick up more Mountain Dew when he had a moment to spare.
It wasn’t high on his priority list. Everything took a back seat until he found Dylan and Reggie.
By the time the third shift left and the first-shift paramedics wandered in, he was on his second cup. The station alarm blared to life. Jackson and Swanny both stood from the table and listened to the dispatcher.
“Shouts and a gunshot wound reported…” She rattled off the address. Reggie’s house!
Jackson spilled the last drops of his coffee on his shirt.
“Police are on the way to the scene. One victim, female, age thirty-nine.”
Elaine Dirk. It had to be.
“Team,” Chief hollered. “I want another emergency vehicle on scene, just in case.”
Amber ran toward the bay, Moses on her heels.
“Doc, you coming?” Swanny yelled over his shoulder.
“Coming!” He grabbed his phone from the counter. Looking at it, he halted. Mia had called him last night.
He couldn’t talk now. As soon as he could, he’d call her back.
Jackson spun around and sprinted after Swanny.
He caught up with his partner at their ambulance and reached for the door, his hands shaking.
Whether from the caffeine on almost zero sleep, the adrenaline humming through him, or the shock of hearing Elaine had been shot, he wasn’t sure.
Maybe a combination of all those things. “You drive.”
Swanny gave him a startled glance but immediately let go of the passenger door and jogged around to the other side.
Jackson hoisted himself into the cab and buckled up.
It seemed to take forever for his partner to start the ambulance and slide out of the open garage doors, although he knew that was his anxiety talking.
In reality, they were out in record time.
“You want to tell me what has you all shook up?” Swanny flipped on the siren. When he turned the corner, Jackson held on to the handle near the top of the cab. “This isn’t the first call like this we’ve ever gone on.”
“That address? I know it. It’s the Dirk family. My brother Dylan’s best friend, Reggie? The one he disappeared with? That’s his family. I’m almost positive it’s his mom that got shot.”
Groaning, Swanny banged his head back on his seat. “Dude. This is all so twisted. Why are you even still at work? Take some time off. You have vacation days.”
Jackson stared out the window. “I will. But I really thought that if I stayed at work and stayed connected to what was happening, I would be in the know. I also had the unrealistic dream that the boys would be found quickly. Instead, I feel like everyone is dragging their feet, as if two missing teens don’t matter. ”
But they did matter.
The chief’s voice crackled over the radio. “Ambulance 12, Ambulance 15, stage at the grocery store until the police have cleared the house.”
“Understood,” Jackson replied.
Safety first. If an active shooter remained on the premises, anyone entering could be at risk until the cops got control of the situation.
Patience came hard though. Jackson had talked with Reggie’s mom only last week.
She and the teen were the only two who lived at the house.
Had Reggie returned home? Had it been a robbery attempt?
Elaine Dirk was a little flighty at times, but she didn’t deserve her home to be infected with violence.
Despite the August heat pressing in on them, he shivered, chilled to his soul. One never got totally used to seeing evil.
He and Swanny made small talk for the next twenty minutes or so until a new voice came over the radio. “The house has been cleared. One gunshot victim inside. Victim is conscious and coherent. She’s given permission for us to begin searching. K-9 is being brought in.”
His stomach tightened. “Ambulance 15 on our way. We’ll be there in five.”
Jackson drummed his fingers on his leg. At least he knew Elaine was still alive.
How had she been shot? He didn’t even question whether this was related to whatever had happened with the boys. It was too coincidental not to be connected.
“Why would they bring in a K-9 so quick?” Swanny wondered aloud.
Jackson rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. But I’m guessing since we’ve had so many drug overdoses and disappearing kids, they want to rule it out, especially since her son is one of those missing.”
“I guess.”
“This is it.” Swanny interrupted his introspection. He edged the ambulance into the narrow driveway.
“That’s Mark’s car.” Jackson pointed to the black-and-white police car parked at the curb in front of the house. “And that’s the K-9 car behind his.”
Swanny and Jackson jumped from the ambulance and gathered their gear and a stretcher.
They wheeled the stretcher into the house, passing the newly hired K-9 handler, Officer Tyler Joanne Boothe, though everyone called her TJ. Jackson hadn’t worked with her much, but he knew she came from a long line of police officers. She held the leash of a very large, beautiful German shepherd.
She gave the dog a command, and it went to work.
Within seconds, it had zeroed in on a hallway to the right.
Jackson saw the look the handler exchanged with Mark.
His stomach felt hollow. The dog was on the scent of something bad.
What had Reggie gotten himself into? Had he dragged Dylan into it as well?
Jackson couldn’t think about his brother possibly being involved with drugs. Not now. Not when a woman’s life was at stake.
“The victim’s in the kitchen,” Mark said, pointing to the back of the house.
Jackson nodded. “Noted.”
Patient care was always the priority. They wouldn’t be asked to seal their feet, but they tried to avoid disturbing the scene more than critical care required.
He took a fortifying breath. It was never pleasant to treat anyone who’d been shot or stabbed.
But when it was someone he knew—even a little bit—it made him angry.
Although he had to admit, he was easily angered these days.
It didn’t take much to trigger those emotions.
Even with prayer, aggression prowled in his soul like a caged tiger.
Sooner or later, it would begin to leak out if he wasn’t vigilant.
A faint moaning indicated her location before he saw her.
Elaine Dirk was in the kitchen, propped up against a cupboard.
She had a soggy dish towel pressed against her side.
There was a pool of blood on the floor and a drag trail.
A metal mixing bowl lay upended on the floor, and thick blobs of dough splattered the surfaces.
Apparently, she’d been in the middle of baking when someone had surprised her.
Her eyelids lifted. “Jackson…”
Jackson dropped to his knees beside Elaine. The copper scent of blood hit his nose. He ignored it, focused on the woman bleeding out before him.
“I’ve got you,” he said, his voice steady even as his eyes flicked to the crimson seeping through her fingers. “Do I have permission to treat you?”
She nodded, closing her eyes again.
“Swanny—trauma kit.”
Swanny was already there, unzipping the bright-orange bag and snapping open a pair of shears. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
Jackson gently peeled the dish towel and her shirt away from the wound. She winced, a gasp erupting from her mouth. “I’m sorry, Elaine. I need to see the wound.”
Blood bubbled from the wound. “Okay, Elaine, I’m going to take care of your bleeding, then we’ll take you to the hospital.”
Jackson took some gauze and pressed it to the wound. He glanced at Swanny. “Did it go through?”
“Don’t think so,” Swanny answered, leaning in with a flashlight. They eased her away from the cupboard. “No exit wound.” He tore open an occlusive dressing, handing it over.
If there was no exit wound, they only had the one wound to treat. Unfortunately, that also meant the bullet was lodged inside her. Jackson didn’t let his concern show on his face or in his manner.
Jackson kept his voice calm. “Elaine, I need you to stay as still as you can. I need to dress your wound.”
She hissed between her teeth as he sealed the dressing. “I was making cookies for the church picnic—” She swallowed, her eyes glassy. “I didn’t hear anyone come in. He was just there. He shot me. Went straight for Reggie’s room.”
The officer took note of everything she said.
Jackson’s hands didn’t pause. He wrapped an elastic bandage around her side, anchoring the seal.
Swanny slid the blood pressure cuff around her arm, checking vitals. “BP’s low. She’s pale—probably losing more than we can see.”
Jackson nodded. He glanced up at the officer. “We’re moving her now.”
The officer relayed the information to someone in the hall.
Jackson heard the shuffle of personnel moving around. It sounded like more people had arrived after them.
“We need to lift you to get you on the cot, then we’ll get you to the hospital. It may hurt, but I promise we’ll be as gentle as we can.”
“I understand.” She squeezed her lips together, and her lids slammed shut.