Nowhere To Run (To Protect And Serve) (2 page)

Chapter Two

“Shit.” Detective Riley Donovan peered through the grimy passenger window of the Crown Vic in irritation. A small crowd of curiosity-seekers had already begun to gather at the scene of the murder. His trained eye scanned the taped-off area section of street and the building. “Well, I’ll be damned. There’s no streetlights.”

His partner
of five years followed Riley’s line of sight. “Holy shit, you’re right. What the hell…” Frank Burbeck was a balding middle-aged man who resembled Andy Sipowicz from NYPD Blue and looked as if he’d spent too much time behind a desk in the company of a box of glazed.

Riley got out of the vehicle and headed toward the
senior uniformed officer who met them at the police tape with his best hard-ass glare. They flashed their badges. After a beat, he relaxed.

“
This way detectives.” The officer waited while they ducked beneath the yellow crime scene tape.

“
Know what happened to the streetlights?” Riley asked while taking a moment to get a feel for the area. A trick of the trade he’d learned from the best.

Burbeck had taught him to take his time. Understand
all the details of a crime scene. Visualize what had taken place there. When you were dealing with someone’s life and death, you had to get the facts right the first time because you might not get a second chance.  

“Someone broke
all of ‘um out. Didn’t want any witnesses I guess.” The officer’s stone expression gave little away.

“Let me guess – no one saw a thing.” Riley’s partner huffed
in typical Burbeck bad humor.

“You got it
, detective.”

“What do we know so far?” Riley took the lead.
He’d been the one to answer the call after all. Not that Burbeck was going to let him forget that anytime soon.  

“Not much
really. An anonymous call came in about an hour ago. I’m guessing from the person who found the kid. We rolled on the scene first, followed by the ambulance a short time later.” The uniformed officer told them.

They were half way to the brownstone when the
meaning of officer’s words clicked and Burbeck exploded. “Wait. The ambulance? The victim’s still alive?” The officer gave Frank a slow nod. “Then what the hell is homicide doing here and not major crime?”

The officer held his tongue, but it was a struggle. “
Because they don’t expect the kid to make it to the hospital.”

Riley shot his partner a warning look, but the mutinous expression in Frank’s eyes had Riley expecting the inevitable. He started counting to ten. He’d barely reached three when Burbeck’s anger
hit the boiling point. “You believe this shit. Dammit, officer, that would have been a good piece of information to have before we got here.”

“
Detective, I informed dispatch of all the facts that we had. It’s not my fault they didn’t choose to pass it along to you guys.” The officer had clearly taken Burbeck’s snipping remarks exactly as intended.  

“It
’s okay, officer.” Riley stepped between his partner and the other man before Burbeck could piss the uniform off any more than he had already. Frank Burbeck was the best there was in solving a murder, and Riley’s mentor, but his people skills left a lot to be desired.

Without so much as another glance at the officer,
Frank moved away to examine the place where they’d found the kid.

Riley knew his partner well enough to know how
irritated Frank was by the screw up. Still, a little common courtesy every now and then never killed anyone. Especially when it came to dealing with subordinates. Riley glanced at the officer’s nametag. “Do we know where they took the victim, Officer O’Neil?”   

A handful of seconds ticked off before O
fficer O’Neil gave up the last detail. “Manhattan General.” O’Neil’s attention wrenched from Riley to glare at Frank as he barked off a string of questions to the man’s partner.

“Manhattan General?” Why
would the EMTs take a critically injured gunshot victim blocks away for treatment when the obvious choice would have been almost within walking distance?

“One of the
guys on the bus recognized the kid. His sister’s a doctor at Manhattan. Not that it really matters. Like I said, he’s probably DOA by now.”

“So we have a positive
ID on our victim then?” Riley threw out the question while busily scribbling notes.

“Yes. The kid’s name is Jeremy Scott. We found
the wallet still on him. Nothing missing except maybe some cash. Assuming he had any.”

“Hey bubba
.” Burbeck motioned to Riley.

“Looks like we have the weapon.” Frank held
up a gun with one latexed finger. “Appears to be a .38.”

“Damn.
Where’d you find it?”

“Right next to the body, sir.” The young female officer pointed
to where the Scott kid had been found.

“Officer
, since the boy is still technically alive as far as we know, let’s try not calling him ‘a body’ just yet, okay.” Riley corrected gently. She might still be green, but he doubted if the next detective would be as understanding.

“I’m sorry, Detective Donavan.”
The woman didn’t look old enough to be on the force. But then in recent years, restrictions on new recruits had been eased a great deal to accommodate the growing need to place more officers on the street.

“Anything else?” Riley knelt to examine the blood spatter
pattern against the steps of the building. The shot had been fired at close range.

“Just that this doesn’t appear to be
a simple robbery attempt. If you disregard the lack of money in the kid’s pocket, he still had on an expensive watch. The shoes he was wearing would have set him back more than a couple of hundred bucks.”

“I’m betting whoever called this in took the money but got interrupted before they could finish robbing
our vic,” Frank surmised. “Want to head over to the hospital and see if we can find out anything from the sister?”

Riley
got to his feet. “Yeah. Continue canvassing the area and call me when you have anything.” He gave the command to O’Neil, the senior officer.

“That’ll be a waste of time,” Frank grumbled the second Riley put the car into drive.

At times the older detective‘s pessimistic attitude got to him. Frank Burbeck was one of the best detectives around but witnessing hundreds of homicides through his twenty-plus years on the force had left their mark on him.

“Probably.
But it’s worth a shot. Care to take a guess on what a kid like that might be doing in this part of town so late?”

Frank shook his head
in disgust. “This city’s going to hell in a hand basket if you ask me. All because of drugs. And what’s the mayor’s answer? Put more rookie cops out on the streets like that skirt back there. Got no business being on the force, if you ask me. Gonna get herself and her partner killed one of these days.”

***

The steady vibration of Jordan’s cell phone interrupted the last of her nightly rounds. The text message read 9-1-1.

She recognized the extension immediately.
It was the ER.

Dear God –
not another critically injured child.

She didn’t think she could
face another child’s parents and tell them their child was sick or dying..  

Jordan didn’t bother returning the page. If someone on the ER staff paged her, there would be little time to spare for details. She took the steps two at a time. This wasn’t her first trip down these stairs
tonight. And if life were running true to form for a Saturday night, it wouldn’t be her last.

“Someone paged me?”
she asked the first year resident on duty. He couldn’t make eye contact. This was the same kid who’d been flirting with her just a few hours earlier. Now, his gaze bounced to the floor then back to Jordan’s general direction before locking on something just beyond her left shoulder.

“Jordan.” Her attention jerked
behind her to Doctor Elliot Colton, the ER’s attending.

“Elliot,
someone paged me?” The sympathy pooling in Elliot’s dark brown eyes make it clear something was dreadfully wrong.

“
Jordan, I need you to come with me—“

“What
’s wrong?” Elliott had been both her friend and mentor since she’d started at Manhattan General. She trusted him with her life.

“Jordan, please…” Elliot took her arm and slowly forced her toward
his office.

Out of earshot from the rest of the staff.

The mere act coupled with the seriousness in Elliot’s manner was all too familiar and frightening.

Jordan barely waited until he’d closed the door. “What is it? What’s happened?” For the first time, his gaze slipped from hers. “God El – what is it?”

“It’s Jeremy. There’s been a…accident.”

She saw the truth in Elliot’s eyes even before she could form the words to ask. “Is he?”

“I’m sorry. I need you to come with me.” His gaze panned across her face. She’d seen that look a thousand times before. He was trying to determine how much of the details to reveal.

“Elliott
, tell me—“

“I’ll explain everything, but right now
I think you need to prepare yourself for the worst.”

Once
the reality of what he wasn’t telling her finally settled in, Jordan turned on her heel and headed for the door.

Elliot hesitated only a second before following. “Jor...Jordan wait up.”

“Where is he?” But she really didn’t need to ask. She knew. They’d have taken Jeremy to the Intensive Care Unit.

Jordan jabbed the elevator button until the doors slid open.

“Tell me what happened to my brother, for God’s sake.” Her voice shook with emotion.

“I don’t know all the details yet
--” He stopped and looked away.

“You said this was an accident?”

“Jordan, he’s been shot.”

Before she could even let herself consider th
e meaning of those words, the doors opened to the fifth floor ICU.

“
It’s this way,” Elliott said quietly. It was the same reverent tone he used to deliver devastating news to loved ones. She’d heard it a thousand times in the past but never felt its impact before today. Now, each word carried the weight of a blow.

He led her down the long ICU corridor lined with doors. The ones at the end were reserved for the most serious patients.

Those without hope.

Elliot pushed the door open. It took all her strength to follow him
inside. She almost didn’t recognize her brother. Most of the top of his head had been bandaged to cover the bullet wound. A fresh patch of blood seeped through the thick dressing.

Jeremy lay unconscious
, barely hanging onto life. A multitude of lines connected him to life support.

“Oh God
, no.” Jordan drew in a ragged breath then crossed the room to reach for Jeremy’s hand. It felt cold to her touch. The boy lying in that hospital bed now was nothing more than a shell of the energetic kid she’d all but raised alone.

The world and its concerns disappeared. She was no longer
aware of Elliott standing close, or her worries for her future with Caesar. The only thing that mattered was Jeremy. Saving Jeremy. She’d do anything to take his place.

Still c
lutching Jeremy’s hand tight, Jordan hit her knees and began to pray.

***

By the time they reached Manhattan General and found a parking place, Riley and his partner had managed to piece together a few more key details about the Scott kid’s life. Over an hour and half had passed since the call first came in. Riley doubted if they’d find the kid alive still. He dreaded having to face the family with questions about the kid’s death. He’d been through this routine countless times, but it never got easier.

The sliding
glass doors of the ER opened automatically as they approached the entrance. Riley and Frank stopped in front of the nurses’ station and showed their badges to the duty nurse filling out a chart.

“We’re looking for
Jeremy Scott. Gunshot victim. He was brought in earlier this evening.”

The woman’s gaze flicked briefly over the badges. Satisfied they were who they said they were
, she stopped writing. “Just a second.” She moved to the opposite side of the station and as far away from them as she could get before picking up the phone, ignoring the one that had been right next to her.

The nurse
spoke to someone in a hushed whisper while periodically glancing back over her shoulder.

“Kid’s dead
,” Frank muttered under his breath.

“God, I hope you’re wrong this time.” Riley watched the nurse replace the receiver then head back their way.