Chapter Five
Cash
I followed Lana’s sedan through the evening traffic. All I could think about was Lily’s small face pressed against the car window, tears streaming down her cheeks as they took her away from her mother. And Eliza’s body, suddenly weightless with grief, in my arms.
Lana made a sharp right turn toward the North Police Precinct, her tires squealing against pavement. I leaned into the turn behind her. The police station loomed ahead, windows glowing yellow against the night sky.
I parked beside Lana. She and Eliza hurried toward the glass doors. Eliza looked like she might shatter. Her skin appeared ghostly pale, her eyes sunken shadows in her face. Lana kept one hand firmly on Eliza’s elbow, steering her forward while pressing her phone to her ear with her free hand.
I caught the door before it closed behind them and followed them into the building.
The precinct smelled like stale coffee. The front desk sergeant looked up as we approached, his gaze lingering on my cut before shifting to Lana.
Recognition flickered in his eyes. And not exactly in a good way.
Apparently, Ms. Thompson’s reputation preceded her.
“We need information on a child who was just brought in by Officer Martinez,” Lana said, covering the mouthpiece of her phone. “Lily Jans, six years old. She was removed from Nashville General Hospital by CPS about twenty minutes ago. This is her mother.”
The sergeant tapped at his computer, frowning slightly. “I don’t show any minors processed tonight. Let me check with dispatch.”
He turned to his radio, pressing the talk button. “Dispatch, Front Desk. Any information on a CPS transport with a minor female? Come from General.”
I watched Eliza press her arms tighter against her ribs, as if physically trying to hold back another breakdown. Her breathing came in short, shallow bursts. I moved closer, unable to stop myself from offering my silent support.
The radio crackled. “Front Desk, Dispatch. Officer Martinez radioed in requesting EMS assistance on a CPS transport. Pediatric patient, female, exhibiting extreme distress. Possible injury during transport. EMS en route to General Hospital ER.”
“Injury?” Eliza’s voice cracked on the word, her eyes widening with fresh horror. “What happened to my daughter? I told them she gets hurt easily.”
The sergeant looked uncomfortable. “I don’t have details, ma’am.”
Lana’s spine straightened, her free hand curling into a fist at her side.
Into her phone she said, “Your Honor, did you hear that? The child has been injured while in protective custody.” She paused, listening.
“Yes, I understand, but --” Her phone beeped with another incoming call.
“I need to take this, ma’am. I’ll call you back.
” Lana glanced at the screen, held up one finger to Eliza, and switched calls. “This is Lana Thompson.”
I moved closer to Eliza, noticing how she swayed slightly on her feet. The color drained from her face as she listened to Lana’s half of the conversation.
“Yes, Officer Martinez. I appreciate you calling me back.” Lana’s voice remained calm, but I saw her knuckles whiten around the phone. “What happened, exactly?” She listened, her expression growing darker. “How?”
Eliza made a strangled sound and stumbled backward until her legs hit a chair.
She collapsed into it, her hands flying to cover her mouth as fresh sobs tore from her throat.
Lana didn’t have to say anything specific.
Eliza and I both could tell from the look on her face whatever Officer Martinez told her we wouldn’t like.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, sinking into the chair beside her. I wanted to comfort her but had no idea how. Without thinking, I put my arm around her and she turned into me immediately, snagging my shirt in her fist as she cried.
Lana ended her call and immediately redialed Judge Whitmore.
“Your Honor, the officer who transported Lily Jans said they’ve had to take her to the ER.
She’s suffered a dislocated shoulder when they delivered her to the foster home.
” There was a pause. “Yes, ma’am. During the transfer.
Ms. Winter grabbed the child by the upper arm as Lily struggled to get away.
I’ll know more once we get to the hospital, but I need to make sure Eliza is not prevented from contact with her daughter.
” Another pause. Lana’s expression shifted from determination to grim satisfaction.
“Thank you, Judge. We’ll meet you there.
” She ended the call and turned to us. “Judge Whitmore is granting emergency custody back to Eliza pending the results of medical testing. She’s calling the hospital now to make sure they understand the situation and will meet us there in person. We need to go. Now.”
Eliza stumbled to her feet, hope and fear warring on her face. “We can go to her? They’ll let us be with her?” It didn’t miss my notice she used “we” rather than “me.” The possessive alpha in me seized on to the “we” and included myself instead of whoever Eliza had in mind when she spoke.
“Yes, honey. The judge agrees this situation demands immediate attention.” Lana placed a gentle hand on Eliza’s shoulder. “Cash, can you take her in your car? I need to stop by my office to get the paperwork the judge is preparing.”
“I came on my bike,” I said.
Lana nodded briskly. “Right. Then follow us. I’ll drop Eliza at the ER entrance and you can park my car.”
We moved quickly through the station, the sergeant watching us with unconcealed curiosity. As we stepped into the night air, Eliza took a deep, shuddering breath. I helped her into Lana’s car before heading to my bike. Whatever happened next, I wouldn’t let this small, broken family face it alone.
I followed Lana’s car into the hospital parking lot, my headlight cutting through the shadows as we pulled up to the emergency entrance. Lana stopped at the curb, and she and Eliza scrambled out of the car.
As I passed them, Lana tossed me the keys, calling, “Park, then hurry back!” I snagged them on my way by before I pulled my bike into a spot reserved for physicians, not giving a damn if they ticketed or towed it. Then I parked Lana’s car in the physician slot next to my bike and headed back.
I jogged toward the entrance where Eliza and Lana had disappeared inside. The sliding glass panels whispered open, releasing a blast of air-conditioned wind.
The emergency department buzzed with the usual controlled chaos. Monitors beeped rhythmically. Nurses moved with practiced efficiency between curtained bays. A security guard eyed me with suspicion but made no move to approach when he saw me follow Lana.
“I need to find my daughter,” Eliza said to the triage nurse, her voice tight with desperation. “Lily Jans. She was just brought in by ambulance. She’s six years old with a dislocated shoulder.”
The nurse consulted her computer screen. “Come with me. The doctor’s with her now.”
We followed the nurse down the hall. Though we couldn’t see her yet, we could hear Lily’s terrified, pain-filled screams mixed with the calm voices of medical staff trying to quiet her.
The sliding glass door to the room hadn’t been shut but the curtain blocked the view inside.
When we pushed the curtain aside, the scene hit me like a punch to the gut.
Lily thrashed on the stretcher, her tiny body writhing in obvious pain.
Her right arm hung at an unnatural angle, the shoulder visibly displaced.
Two nurses attempted to calm her and keep her from harming herself while a third prepared an IV tray.
“She’s going to hurt herself worse,” one nurse said, frustration and concern evident in her voice. “We can’t get the IV started if she keeps moving like this and I’m afraid to hold her any tighter.”
“Get the doc to change the Ativan order to IM,” one of the nurses said, calmly. “It’ll take longer to take effect, but we can start an IV once she’s calmer.”
When Eliza opened her mouth to call out to her daughter, Lana’s hand shot out, gripping Eliza’s arm.
“Wait,” she whispered urgently. “If you grab her attention now while she’s thrashing, it could make the injury worse.
She’s going to reach for you if she sees you.
I know it’s hard, but let them do what they need to.
This is the best choice. You can go to her once the immediate crisis is over. ”
Eliza froze, her body trembling under Lana’s restraining hand. Her face crumpled as she watched her daughter struggle against the nurses’ gentle but firm holds.
The little girl screamed and screamed, continuing to thrash as much as she could. The sound of her distress made me want to howl right along with her. Every instinct I had demanded I bring Lily to Eliza at all costs. But I also saw the truth in Lana’s warning.
A doctor looked up as we entered, his forehead creased with concentration. He was careful as he examined Lily, speaking softly to Lily even though she continued to scream. Her hair stuck to her face where sweat coated her skin with her extreme stress.
“Ms. Jans?” he asked, glancing at Eliza. “The nurse is right. We’re giving her a mild sedative to help calm her down. Not only to treat her, but to keep her from hurting herself. She’s going to if we can’t get her to calm down.”
Eliza’s face fell at the suggestion. I watched her struggle with the decision, torn between wanting to end her daughter’s pain immediately and fearing the idea of sedation.
“How long would she be out?” she asked, her voice small.