Clean Lines (Cedar Tree #4) (21 page)

I sense more than I see Naomi stiffen before she turns around and lets loose with both barrels.

"Gus, I respect you and you’re a good friend... but are you out of your fucking mind? My boy is out there. I'm coming! I don't fucking care what
you
need—I'm all about what
he
needs and what
I
need right now. So if we can cut the goddamn chitchat and get going? That'd be good!"

Even drawn up to her full length, Naomi barely makes it to Gus's shoulder, but that doesn't stop her from poking her finger in his chest for emphasis as she shouts the last words in his face. From the kitchen I hear Emma, "You tell him, girl!" costing her a sharp glance from her husband.

I make my position clear when I grab Naomi's hand and open the door, throwing a look over my shoulder at the somewhat startled Gus.

"One thing, Doc," I say to her in a low voice, "once there, you do as I say; no questions asked. Okay? As much as I'm not gonna stick my hands into one of your surgical patients for fear of fucking it up, you're gonna have to give me that same trust back. You get me?"

I can see the struggle to reign herself in play out over her face and her hands are in fists by her side.

"Okay." She manages, her jaw clenched on the word of compliance. But I can’t afford having her endanger herself or Fox by running into a situation we don’t seem to have any control over yet.

It takes us a little less than fifteen minutes to get to Lebanon Road. Naomi has been quiet in the seat beside me the entire time and Gus is driving his Yukon behind me. In the distance, I can see a large congregation of emergency vehicles already gathered, right at the intersection with Alamosa. Pulling over to the side of the street, I slide down my window and motion Gus alongside.

"What are you thinking?" he wants to know.

"Don't want to go through that. That's for sure. We turn around, back to North Broadway, we can try cutting in the back way on Alamosa. Maybe pull into Bane's Packaging?" I suggest.

"Sounds good to me."

Gus pulls ahead before making a U-turn and passing the other way. I follow suit, behind him now. All this time, Naomi's stayed quiet. I take one of her tightly clenched fists in my hand.

"You okay?" A curt nod is my only answer. "You're a rock. You know that, right? We're gonna go get our boy out of there."

"Okay."

I look over to see a small smile edging out some of the tension on her face. So much stronger than she thinks she is, my girl.

Only two patrol cars on this side of the intersection and by the looks of it, one is Drew. He is beside it talking to a uniformed officer of the Cortez PD. A small stroke of luck. As I pull in behind them, Drew turns around, spots me and comes walking toward me, holding up his hand to the officer to hold him back.

"Stay here for a minute," I tell Naomi as I hop out of the truck.

"Carol called?" Drew guesses.

"Right on one. Don't wanna get in your way, but if our boy is in there, we need to be here."

"Your boy?" he asks me, one eyebrow raised and I meet his challenge straight on.

"My woman, her son, therefore our boy. Yes. There a problem with that?"

Drew's response is a smirk. "No problem, Sheriff. Just glad to see that shit sorted."

If his response surprises me, I'm determined not to let it show. Looks like Drew is coming out of his shell a little and already knowing he's a great deputy, the added bite is only going to be an improvement. He nods over my shoulder at Gus, who's walked up behind me.

"Here's what I know; Cortez PD received a call from the night watchman at the packaging plant. When he came on shift earlier, he had seen a couple of youths struggling in the parking lot of the abandoned building next door. Not sure if it was a friendly tussle or something else, he pulled up his car a little further and looked back just when he saw one hit another over the head with what looked to be a gun. Both he and a third guy dragged him into the old shop. He immediately called the police. The one whose bell got rung had a cast on his arm."

A sharp intake of breath alerts me to Naomi, who’s managed to slide over to the driver's side and listen through the open window. My mistake. Seeing her pale face, I open the door.

"Might as well come out," I say as gently as I can, helping her down. I pull her in front of me and fold her inside my arms.

"Go on," my girl says to Drew, her voice cracking but still managing to hold her shit together.

"When the first units arrived and tried to approach the building, some shots were fired. From what we're told, all of them were from the inside to the outside." The last part, he directs at Naomi, making sure she understands all of them appeared to have been directed away from Fox.

"Any idea who they are? Holding the kid, I mean?" Gus is all business and I'm glad to have him at my back. Right now I'm even glad not to be sporting my badge, 'cause I wouldn't be able to maintain a professional distance. My heart is fucking buried in this shaking woman I'm holding and her son whose life is in danger.

"Spoke to Detective Dooley earlier over the radio. Description for one of them seems to match the one you gave for the two thugs in the Vincent assault. The one we have on file for Felipe Rivas. The witness didn't get a clear look at the other one."

"The drug dealer? I don't get it," I wonder out loud, "I mean, we know he broke into Doc's house and left the message—at least he was there—but what does he stand to gain by kidnapping Fox? And who the hell is the other kid?"

"Dunno what to tell you, Sheriff. That's all I know, except that Dooley is trying to make contact with Rivas while the Chief is conferring with the K-9 unit and the two detectives from the Phoenix PD on how to try and get in. Not easy with the building being exposed on all sides."

"Those bozos are here?" Gus barks out, voicing my thoughts exactly. What the fuck are they hoping to gain by showing up here?

Just then, we hear a volley of shots from down the road.

F
ear, hope and adrenaline have carried me through the last half hour or so since Gus interrupted Joe and I in his office. Aside from my blow-up at Gus, I've held myself as still as possible, knowing full well either or both of them can prevent me from tagging along if they really want to. I almost blow it when I hear Joe talk about Fox, calling him
our boy
, but I tamp down the emotions that those words bring to the surface because frankly, right now there is no room for them.

The moment I hear the shots fired, however, all control is gone and I pull out of Joe's arms and am running at full speed down the road in the direction of the sound, driven by pure fear and adrenaline. The hope is waning with every step.

"Naomi! Fuck!" I can hear Joe behind me, but there is nothing, no one, who'd be able to stop me now. I ignore the various yells of caution, focusing only on the sound of my feet slapping against the asphalt and the sparsely lit building in the distance where more and more emergency vehicles are pulling up.

When I am almost to the intersection, I’m suddenly jerked back into a familiar hard chest with an arm around my waist. Joe's heavy panting in my ear.

"Damn, babe, you can fucking move. Hold up. We're going together, but with caution. I don't want anyone shooting at the crazy woman hauling ass into their scene, okay?"

I notice he hasn't stopped moving but has only slowed us down to a walking pace. Seeing several law enforcement officers crouching behind their vehicles for cover, it dawns on me that I might've run into an active situation.
Jesus.
My boy is in there.

Joe is whispering in my ear and I barely register what he is saying; something about staying behind the patrol cars. The Sheriff's deputy Joe had been talking to drives past us and pulls up beside the other cars in the parking lot of the abandoned building. Joe grabs my hand and tells me to crouch as he pulls me toward the deputy's patrol unit. Ducking behind the trunk, he tugs me down and close to him.

"We've gotta wait here. Gus is going to get the lay of the land."

The next few minutes feel like hours, with very little sound other than the occasional rustle of the parking lot gravel as someone shifts. Occasional radio crackle flares and each time my ears perk up hoping to hear something— anything—but very little is decipherable. I'm about to burst out of my skin when finally I see Gus approach on a crouch from a Cortez PD car a little further down.

"A few officers went around the back quietly and were supposed to use the element of surprise to take control of the suspects without shots fired, but—" Gus's eyes shoot up when something behind us distracts him. "What the fuck?"

I turn to see the younger of the two Phoenix officers walk out holding up a half-dazed Fox, and almost take off running toward him, when both Joe and Gus hold me back this time.

"Wait," Joe hisses in my ear, "Let's make sure all is clear first."

I watch helplessly as my son is being lead to a patrol car and placed in the back. I am beside myself.

"He needs to be seen by a doctor, Joe. He looks dazed and if he was hit over the head like that guy said, he may very well have a concussion. Jesus, he could have a bleed. He needs to go to the ER."

I'm confused. There is an ambulance waiting right in the intersection. I spotted it as we were standing by the truck and we walked right by it. Why aren't they looking after him?

"I'll go check. You guys stay here for now." Gus carefully moves in the direction of the patrol car.

Just then a call comes over the radios and one of the officers starts waving the ambulance over. It backs between two of the patrol cars, all the way up to the shop entrance. EMTs jump out, open the loading bay and pull out the gurney to take it inside the building.

When I look back to where Gus has gone to check on Fox, I see him motioning us over, and around us everyone appears to be out in the open. Joe must've spotted Gus too, ‘cause he grabs me by my elbow and steers me in his direction.

"Second ambulance is on its way. One of the suspects got shot, as did the second officer. Fox will be taken with a patrol car," Gus says with a serious face.

"We'll take him," I say. "I can make sure he's ok. It can be dangerous after a blow to the head. He needs to be monitored." I lean down to look in the window and try the door handle, but it won't budge.

"Why is he locked in here?" My eyes seek out Warner, the detective who stepped to the side, when Joe and I walked up. His eyes are shifting around, not quite settling on mine.

"Bringing him in for questioning, ma'am. Can't have him running off again like last time."

I'm about to tear into this snot-nosed idiot, when I hear Joe inhale sharply behind me; feel his arm wrap around my waist and lift me aside before he steps up in Warner's face. Like...
right
up in there.

"Open this fucking door, now! This kid received a blow to the head, which was witnessed and reported, and he was obviously unstable when you brought him out here. He needs immediate medical attention. I swear I will fucking rip you apart if anything happens to him. Do you understand me?" I've never seen Joe this irate. Never seen him anything other than perhaps grumpy, but his face is bright red and the veins in his neck are bulging out. I grab onto his arm, afraid he's gonna let one of those tightly clenched fists fly. Gus steps up beside him on the other side, ready to intervene.

"Problem, gentlemen?" A man with a badge clipped to his jacket who I don't recognize walks up, eyeing the situation suspiciously.

"Dooley," Joe bites off, "Can you tell this idiot to unlock the door so the boy's mother, who happens to be a physician, can make sure he's ok?"

"The fuck? Warner, are you trying to get your ass in trouble? Your partner's already been shackled to the Chief's side because he's been identified as a loose cannon. We thought you were the smart one."

"But—" The protest falls on deaf ears as the officer Joe identified as Dooley snatches the keys from his hand and unlocks the backdoor. I immediately dive in, ignoring the continued argument, and find my son slumped in the backseat with tears streaming down his face.

"Oh baby..." I put my arms around him as best I can and the poor kid buries his face in my neck. Deep sobs wrack his body. I try to soothe him by rocking back and forth gently while stroking his back. With half an ear, I can hear Gus's deep rumble.

"Did you not get the message this morning? I'm thinking another call to your boss is in order, since you bozos apparently are still not clear on how to follow the rules."

When Joe gets fired up again, Gus cuts him off. "Go see to your family. Dooley and I have this."

Next thing I know, the door on the other side of Fox opens and Joe slides in, closing it behind him, and finding my eyes over Fox's head.

"Hey Bud. It's gonna be ok."

The moment he puts his hand on my boy's shoulder, Fox lifts his head and turns to Joe.

"They gonna arrest me?"

"Fuck no, kid. Over my dead body."

I don't even think to mentioned language; I'm too moved by the interaction between these two guys. My two guys. Pushing down the tears for later, my inner doctor bubbles up and I gingerly touch Fox's head, where I encounter a sticky mess.

"I've gotta take him in to the ER, Joe. He's been cut. I want a scan done to check for bleeding. Baby," I turn his face to me. "Were you unconscious at any time?"

"Uhh... I think I may have blacked out. Can't remember too well."

One look at Joe is enough to see he gets the significance and he immediately calls out my open door for Dooley to drive us to the hospital. Gus says he'll make sure to get Joe's truck

there, and with flashing lights and sirens, we're off.