One #2
Once the presentation had ended, she picked up a stack of handouts for the deputies to take with them.
“I’m passing around copies of our updated emergency radio signals.
I’ll also be emailing you all a copy. Please take some time to learn these new codes.
In case of an emergency, this may be the only way to communicate with dispatch or other deputies. ”
She handed out the paper copies, pleased to see everyone reviewing them carefully. She’d come to know and like all of the deputies here in Mercy and didn’t want to see anything happen to even one of them.
As the deputies filtered out, she packed up her laptop. Sheriff Deena Thompson approached her. “Well done, Allison.”
She didn’t flinch at the use of the name Allison. She’d gotten used to being Allison Meeks since joining the witness protection program four years ago and relocating to Mercy, Texas.
The sheriff gave her a smile. “Thank you for handling that. Everyone seemed to be listening intently and absorbing the information. You have a knack for this.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.” Though she considered Deena a friend and was on a first-name basis with most of the deputies, they all referred to Sheriff Thompson by her title, so Emily did too as not to draw attention to herself.
The sheriff’s praise warmed her, but that wasn’t why she’d taken on the task.
Any opportunity to stretch herself was appreciated—as long as she could do it discreetly.
Keeping a low profile was necessary. Fortunately, Sheriff Thompson knew about her situation and did her best to find opportunities for Emily that wouldn’t put her in danger.
Her life here in Mercy was safe but small and, truth be told, it could also be stifling.
She couldn’t be herself among these people nor pursue the dreams she’d once had for her life.
She appreciated her job as a dispatcher, but it sometimes left her feeling restless and hungry for more.
This was not the life she’d imagined for herself.
She’d planned to be married by now and have a family with Greg while pursuing her goal of finishing law school and becoming a lawyer.
But those dreams had been shattered four years ago by a madman with a gun and a quest for revenge.
Sheriff Thompson leaned in as she asked her next question in a lowered voice. “Have you heard anything more from Nash?”
She shook her head. “No. He advised me to stay put and keep my head down, so that’s what I’m doing.
” Marshal Nash Sullivan had been radio silent since calling two weeks ago to let her know about Victor Kane being released.
He’d assured her at that time that her identity and location were still secure and had advised her not to panic.
She trusted him. He’d been there for her after Greg was killed and arranged for her to start her new life here in Mercy, so she was content to do what he suggested.
Yet, it didn’t stop her from being on edge when she couldn’t reach him for an update.
Images flashed through her mind. Kane’s eyes on her as she testified in court, his mouthed promise to make her pay, his cold eyes as he’d ambushed her fiancé outside a convenience store while she sat waiting in the car.
She replayed that day over and over again in her mind.
They’d stopped at a convenience store and Greg, a federal prosecutor who’d been taking on an organized crime syndicate, had gone inside while she’d remained in the SUV.
Another car had pulled up beside them and Victor Kane had gotten out, pulled a gun and struck down Greg as he exited the store.
The police had called it an execution. She’d been the trial’s star witness.
Spurred by her anger for justice, she’d recounted every last detail of Greg’s death to the court and felt satisfaction when Kane was sentenced to death.
The murder of a federal prosecutor always carried the death penalty.
She shoved that memory away as she cleaned up after the presentation then walked into the dispatch area.
Dale Richards had taken over her duties during her training session, and would continue to handle dispatch for the rest of the evening.
She would relieve him when her shift began tomorrow morning.
“How did it go?” Dale asked about the session.
“It went well, I think. Sheriff Thompson seemed pleased.”
“Good. Congratulations.” The dispatch phone rang, and he turned to answer it. “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
She opened the bottom and took out her purse and the lunch box she’d stuffed in there earlier, then grabbed her coat off the back of the chair and slipped it on.
“Emily?” Dale questioned the caller. “Did you say Emily?”
Her breath caught at that name and she froze, paralyzed as she listened to the one-sided conversation. Dale was wearing his headset so she couldn’t hear the caller.
“Sir, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. There’s no Emily here.”
She turned to Dale and glanced over his shoulder at the number on the display. She didn’t recognize it and it didn’t appear to be a local number, however, with cell phones, one could never be certain.
Dale continued listening then keyed the information into the computer. She watched over his shoulder as he sent a patrol car to Mercy Highway.
“Please remain on the line with me, sir,” he told the caller just as the line dropped. He looked at her, his face showing a slight irritation at being hung up on. “They never want to remain on the line.”
“Wh-what was that about?” she asked, doing her best to keep her voice calm and controlled, trying to hide the fear creeping up her neck.
“He said he was calling in about an abandoned vehicle. He asked to speak to someone named Emily. Or maybe he said the car belonged to Emily? He wasn’t being very clear. I sent a patrol deputy to investigate.”
She felt her face warm at the mention of that name. It was a common enough name, but…no one at the station was named Emily, except her. And no one knew she was named that. It felt like an uncomfortable coincidence, but it had to be just a coincidence, right?
“Allison, is everything okay? Do you know who they were talking about?”
She shook her head and did her best to cover. “No, I don’t.” She already had her purse, but she was anxious to hear what the deputy found once he arrived. “Mind if I stay? I want to hear the outcome of this call.”
Dale shot her a confused look but nodded. “Okay sure, but it’s probably nothing.”
Of course, he was right. This call probably had nothing to do with her. It was only her heightened level of caution over Nash’s lack of communication and Victor Kane’s release that made her uneasy. Still, she struggled to steady her voice as she asked him, “Who did you send?”
“Gordon.”
Deputy Steve Gordon had been part of the Mercy County Sheriff’s Office for years and knew what he was doing. She paced the small dispatch area, waiting for him to arrive and examine the scene. Once he radioed he’d arrived, she pulled up a chair next to Dale and listened in on the response.
“What do you see?” she asked Gordon.
“There’s a car on the side of the road with a flat tire. No one is around and everything looks secure. Let’s run the license plate.” He called it off and Dale typed it into the computer.
Emily watched as a name and address came up.
“The tag is registered to Peter Morton. No reports of the vehicle being stolen. Let me phone the number on file. Hold the line, Gordon.”
She waited while Dale made a call then clicked back to Gordon. “His daughter was driving when the car got a flat. She had a friend pick her up, but a tow truck is supposed to be on the way.”
“Copy that,” Gordon stated. “I’ll stay until it arrives.”
“Did Mr. Morton mention anything about someone named Emily?” she asked Dale.