Chapter 26
“What are you doing here?” Cal frowned at the woman across the lobby of the police station.
His youngest sister, Matti, turned in response to his impertinent question. She arched an eyebrow and tossed her mop of curls back from her face. “I could ask you the same thing, Sheriff. This is Wyatt’s domain, not yours.”
“True,” Cal said, stepping close enough to give his baby sister a hug.
She might be twenty-six years old now, but Matti would always be the baby of the family in his eyes.
He’d helped look out for her from an early age, especially when it was clear their dad put his hospital duties over his family responsibilities.
“But if you’ve been paying attention in recent years, you’d know Wyatt’s department and mine often collaborate on big cases that cross jurisdictional lines.
Besides, it’s late. Police stations are not fun places to be late at night. ”
“And if you’d been paying attention to me in recent years, you’d know that I often have business at the police station related to my cases.
Even late at night. Often late at night.
” She frowned. “I’m here to pick up a little boy that was found alone at a motel.
The desk clerk saw him rummaging in the trash for food and asked him where his parents were.
He only shrugged and said they’d been gone since the day before. ”
Cal pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled a curse word. “Poor kid.”
“Mmm.” Matti tugged his arm, pulling him aside and settling in the formed plastic chairs against the wall in the station lobby.
Lowering her voice, she continued, “The desk clerk said when she took the kid back to his room, with some fruit and cookies she scrounged from her own dinner and the vending machine, she found a mess in the room. Drug paraphernalia, dirty food wrappers strewn around, unmade beds and no sign of the kid’s parents. ”
“Drug paraphernalia, you say? What is the kid’s name?”
Matti checked her notes. “All he told the motel clerk was Sam. He said he’s six.
” She showed him the thin file in her hand and the database pulled up on her iPad.
“I’m scrambling to fine emergency foster care for him.
At least for tonight. Tomorrow, if the cops can track down his parents, I get to open a whole new can of worms. But for now, my job is to wait here for the responding officers to bring him here.
Once I have a foster home arranged, I’ll escort him to the emergency placement and help ease his transition. ”
Cal placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder and squeezed. “Matticake,” he said, using his childhood nickname for her, “have I told you how proud I am of what you do? I thought I saw the dregs of society in my job, but you see the victims of the worst of humanity.”
“Thank you, Cal. I’m kinda proud of you, too.” She leaned into him, bumping his shoulder.
They both glanced to the front door as a female patrol officer entered the lobby through the front doors, leading a small boy with wide dark eyes and shaggy light blond hair.
Cal took in the boy’s bedraggled appearance.
He clearly hadn’t had a bath in several days, and his lean frame and small size gave him the appearance of being younger than the six years Matti said the child had claimed to be.
The terror and trauma in his expression were heartbreaking.
Here was a child who had seen and heard far more in his short life than any person should.
Cal heard Matti’s soft gasp of dismay before she schooled her expression, fixing a bright smile on her face and moving to greet the child with a calm and warm demeanor. “Hello, Sam. My name is Matti Colton.” She held out a hand as if to shake Sam’s. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Sam only stared at Matti’s hand and inched closer to the patrol officer.
Cal hung back, watching his sister work. Clearly the boy was already overwhelmed and frightened without adding another adult face to the mix.
The patrol officer crouched and coaxed gently, “Sam, this nice lady is going to take you to a safe house, where you can eat something good and have a warm bed while we find your mom and dad. Okay?”
Sam ducked his chin and slanted a wary look at Matti.
“I know this is all kinda strange for you, but I promise to take good care of you and make sure you are safe until we get everything sorted out with your mom and dad,” Matti said.
The boy stuck his thumb in his mouth, and his nose was running a bit, evidence he’d been crying earlier.
Matti reached in her pocket and pulled out a small lollipop. “I almost forgot! I brought this for you. Do you like green apple suckers?”
The boy perked up and reached for the candy. “Red is my favorite.”
Matti brightened. “Really? Red is my favorite, too! Cool!”
Sam looked at the candy, then divided a look between the patrol officer and Matti. “Can I eat it now?”
“If you want. It’s all yours.” Matti ruffled Sam’s hair lightly. “Will you come sit over here in these chairs with me while I finish making a few phone calls?”
The patrol officer nodded to Sam as he unwrapped the lollipop. “You’re in good hands with Ms. Colton, sweetie. I’ve got to go do some other things now. Okay?”
Sam heaved a sigh and gave Matti another wary look, then said in whisper, “Okay. ’Bye.”
Matti took his free hand as he poked the candy in his mouth and led him to the chairs near Cal. His sister stroked the boy’s hair in a motherly gesture that touched Cal’s heart. “What are some of your other favorite things, Sam?” Matti asked.
Cal smiled at her tactic, redirecting the boy’s thoughts to happier things while also learning tidbits that might help the foster family acclimate Sam.
Sam shrugged.
“Do you have a favorite flavor of ice cream?” she asked.
Another shrug.
“A favorite television show? Favorite color? I’m guessing…pink?”
Sam shot a disgruntled look at Matti. “No-o-o! Pink is for girls!”
“Not always.” She tapped Sam on the nose with one finger. “That, my dear, is what’s called a cliché.”
Sam wrinkled his nose, obviously confused by the new word.
“Okay, you tell me. Green? Brown?” Matti continued, and Cal could see the child relaxing.
“Red,” the child said quietly.
“Of course!” Matti said as if it should have been obvious and she’d missed it. “So not just red lollipops. Red lots of things, huh?”
Sam bobbed his head in a nod.
“Good choice!”
Cal heard the door to the back hall of the police department squeak, and he glanced up to see Wyatt waving him over. He left Matti and Sam to continue getting acquainted and stepped over to his brother.
“So Hamilton wasn’t such a tough nut to crack,” Wyatt said in a hushed voice, guiding Cal even farther away from listening ears. Once they were in an isolated nook by the vending machine, Wyatt continued, “Almost as soon as his public defender arrived, he agreed to give up names.”
Cal clapped his brother on the arm. “Good work.”
“With stipulations.”
“Naturally. No one really thought he’d flip without a cushy deal. What did he ask for?”
“He swung for the fences. He wants a clean slate, all charges dropped. His record expunged.”
Cal snorted. “I hope you said no! The greedy bastard.”
“The DA is considering it.”
Cal goggled, knowing how this news would devastate Jules.
“But,” Wyatt added, “given the hour and our current impasse, we decided to let him sleep and have a good meal in the morning before we resumed. His PD requested time to study the charges against Hamilton more closely.”
Frustrated, Cal smacked a hand against the vending machine. “So that’s it for tonight?”
His brother nodded. “We’ll be moving him to a jail cell soon for the night. If you want to observe the negotiations tomorrow, we’ve set that up with his PD for nine o’clock.”
Cal nodded again. “Yeah. I want to be here.”
“Callum,” Wyatt said, pitching his voice low again. “Don’t say anything to Jules just yet. Like when we arrested him, the task force wants to play this deal with Hamilton real close to the vest. Only a few key players know anything about it.”
“Understood.”
“In fact, when we move him to his holding cell, because of the chatter we’ve picked up on from the drug ring, we’re not going the usual route out the back door and around the alley to the transport van.
That route is known to anyone who’s ever had a brush with the law and been taken the same path.
Even with body armor, keeping Hamilton alive is too important. ”
“What then?” Cal asked.
“If you’d help us keep a watch, we’ll have the van pull right up to the front door and hurry him through the lobby.” Wyatt received a text and checked his phone screen. “They’re ready to move now. Will you take a post out front?”
“Sure,” Cal said, taking out his sidearm and moving back into the main lobby.
Matti’s eyes widened when she saw him return with his weapon in his hand. “Cal? What are you doing?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” He gave the lobby and front doors a visual sweep. The nondescript van used for inmate transport pulled to a stop at the front curb. “Listen, a prisoner is being moved. Perhaps you and Sam could relocate to another room until—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the door to the back hall opened with a clang, and no fewer than five police officers, surrounding a handcuffed Chase Hamilton, entered the lobby. Cal tugged on Matti’s arm, pulling her out of the main walking path to the front doors.
Hamilton seemed to be jerking against the guiding hands of the officer beside him. He snarled a curse at the officer.
“Settle down!” one of the policemen barked. “Keep him moving—”
A loud blast and the clatter of breaking glass ricocheted through the entry hall. Then another blast and another—
Chaos erupted around him. Shouts and gunshots. Toppling chairs and splintering plaster. Flying debris and whizzing bullets.
Sam let out a high-pitched and terrified scream.
Matti cringed and yelped her own fright.
“Get down!” Cal yanked Matti’s arm, pulling her behind a large potted plant and shoving her down.
His sister fought his grip. “No! Sam!”
The officers in the lobby rushed to take up defensive positions and return fire. A cacophony of voices added to the confusion.
“Where’s the shooter?”
“Anyone have eyes on him?”
“Officer down!”
“He’s hit!”
Sam’s loud wail of distress sounded like a siren, heightening the surreal incongruity of the unfolding tableau. A shooting. At the police station. Cal shook his head to clear the buzz of shock, the ringing in his ears.
His grip tightened on Matti’s arm when she tried to rise. “Stay down!”
“I have to get Sam!” Panic was thick in his baby sister’s voice.
“I’ll go,” he told her, his tone commanding. “Stay here!”
The shooting stopped almost as quickly as it started. Like ants whose hill had been kicked, police officers swarmed in and out of the lobby, taking tactical positions and moving in a crouch into the parking lot in search of the shooter. Others gathered around two fallen bodies.
Chase Hamilton, whose head wound left no doubt he was dead, and the police officer who’d been closest to him. The officer clutched his chest while his colleagues administered first aid.
Broken glass and crumbled plaster and drywall crunched under Cal’s shoes as he scurried to the little boy.
He stayed low until he reached the spot where Sam had curled into a ball on the floor, tucked as far under the row of formed plastic chairs as he could.
“Hey, Sammy. Come on out. I’ve got you.”
Sam continued wailing and shrank from his touch.
“I know that was scary, but I’ve got you. You’re okay now.” Cal tried again to tug the boy gently from under the chairs.
Then Matti was beside him, reaching for the boy. Because when had his stubborn little sister ever done what he told her to? “Matti…” Cal growled in a low, disapproving voice. “I told you to stay d—”
“Sam? Hey, buddy, are you okay?” she cooed, not only cutting him off, but also shoving her way closer to the frightened child. “It’s Ms. Matti. Can you come out here for me? I know that was scary. I’m so sorry, darling. Come on. I’ve got you.”
Cal helped Matti slide the boy’s tightly balled body out from the chair legs. Then, again with his help, she lifted the boy, still curled in the fetal position, into her arms.
“Shh, sweetie. I got you. It’s over. You’re okay.” Matti kept up the litany of murmured reassurances, and Cal’s heart broke for the terrified child.
“Matti! What the hell is she doing here?” Wyatt’s voice reflected the stress and frustration of the moment as he rushed over.
Cal pulled his brother away from Matti and Sam. “She was picking up the boy for relocation to a foster home.”
“You couldn’t have told me our sister and a minor were here?” he said, his glare and timbre both accusing.
Cal forgave his brother’s attack, knowing Wyatt was as emotionally charged as they all were. Wyatt’s entire body, like his own, vibrated with tension, fury and shock.
“I was trying to get them to a safer place when—” Cal waved a hand toward the destruction in the lobby.
“Cal!” The horror in Matti’s voice sent a chill to his marrow. He spun to face her and saw the color wash from her face. She raised a stricken expression to him. “Sam is bleeding! I think he was shot!”