Emergency Response (8 page)

“Hey,” Archer said from the doorway.

“You're back.” She dropped the knitting to her lap and waited for him to share news about his visit.

Noah crossed the room. “Tell me you found something for us to go on.”

“Wish I did.” Archer stepped closer, his eyebrows drawn in a scowl, making Darcie cringe inside. “I talked to quite a few people but everyone clammed up as soon as I mentioned Oleda. You know how close-knit Latino communities can be. Especially when law enforcement starts asking questions.”

Darcie had experienced the same thing on callouts. It was incredibly frustrating when people refused to give her details about an illness or injury because they didn't want to reveal anything that might draw police attention to them, but she still understood it. “Many of them came from a country where they really can't trust law enforcement or elected officials, so I don't blame them one bit.”

“True,” Noah said. “They have a reason, all right. But if that doesn't change, we're never going to get a handle on gangs.”

“On the bright side,” Archer said, “my visit wasn't a total bust. I noticed Oleda's brother was sporting a Nuevo gang tattoo on his hand.”

“Nuevo. We expected the gang connection, but it's still hard to hear.” Darcie felt the fear from her attack returning but she wouldn't let it get to her. She had to be proactive now. She turned to Noah. “How does this new lead move us forward?”

“It doesn't. At least not without additional information.” He dug out his phone. “It's time for me to follow up with Detective Judson again. He's the detective who handled Oleda's case. I need to find out why he's not returning my call.” Dialing his phone, Noah stepped into the hallway.

Darcie watched him go, her thoughts returning to the fact that he'd given the interview task to Archer. If Noah had done the interviews, might he have come up with more information? Archer was intuitive, as Noah had said, and Darcie respected his skills, but he wasn't an experienced detective like Noah.

Archer dropped into the chair next to her and watched her carefully. “Something bothering you?”

Should she confide in him? As a negotiator, he was an excellent listener and he never gossiped. He could be trusted to keep everything she said private. And it would be good to talk to someone about Noah.

“I don't mean to pry,” Archer went on. “Just thought you might want to talk about whatever has you looking so upset.”

“It's Noah,” she said quickly before she changed her mind. “I'm getting mixed signals from him. One minute it seems like the investigation is his top priority. The next he's laid-back about it.”

“So?”

“So either he's committed to the investigation or he's not.”

Archer stared at her with an unflinching gaze. “He's committed, all right. You're just not ready to see how committed he might be.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head.

“No, seriously. What are you not saying?”

He took a deep breath and his expression turned serious. “Maybe it's time you let go of your past and take an honest look at the people in your life. You might be surprised by what you find.”

“Like what?”

“Like you have a whole team who not only support you professionally, but would do the same thing in your personal life if you'd give us a chance.” He searched her face for a moment and came away looking sad. “But that would mean confiding in us, and I know that's not something you're willing to do.”

She'd opened the door to this conversation and now she wished she hadn't. “You say that like it's wrong to want to keep my private life private.”

“Wrong? No. Hard for you? Yes.”

“I can't help it.” The minute the words came out she knew it wasn't true. She was choosing not to let anyone in. Something she wasn't ready to change.

Fortunately, Archer didn't call her on it, and she sat back with a sigh.

“Anything else I can do to help with the investigation?” he asked.

Was there? She was so used to doing things on her own that she was rusty at asking for favors. But Archer wanted to lend a hand and she did have one thing she'd been thinking about. “Since you profile criminals, you could give me your take on the creep who attacked me.”

Archer pondered her request for a moment. “Wish I could help with that, but I don't have enough to go on.”

“What about the fact that it's seeming like he's a gang member?”

“Well...” Archer lifted his face in thought. “Assuming we're correct in his gang affiliation—which we have no concrete evidence of, at this point—it would be unusual for a gangster to try to strangle you. They're more apt to shoot you right off the bat.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“Hey.” He laughed. “I didn't mean you, per se. I meant when a typical gangster takes a life it's often an emotionally driven decision to retaliate against a perceived insult from another gang, and he'd use whatever was at hand to get the job done. Which usually means guns and knives. Or he'd even run you down with his car.”

Darcie frowned. “Why the strangling then?”

“I'd have to say it's extremely personal. Maybe to him or to the gang. Someone who thinks you've wronged him in some way, has a vendetta against you, and wants to see you die right before his eyes.”

His ominous tone sent a shiver running through her. “I don't even know any gangsters much less harmed one of them.”

“Except the perceived harm to Oleda.”

“Right, except that.”

Archer stared ahead, perhaps watching Noah pass by the doorway as he paced up and down the hallway, his phone to his ear. “You sure Noah's on the right track and your attack wasn't random? Maybe an attempted rape?”

Darcie had asked to keep the hit list on a need-to-know basis and until now, Archer hadn't needed to know so she shared it with him. She glanced at the doorway and waited for Noah to move past the opening. When he did, she removed the scarf from around her neck. “Besides. Does this look like he wanted to sexually assault me or kill me?”

“Man, Darcie, I'm sorry. He really did a number on you.” Archer's gaze held concern, but not the pity she endured after Haley died.

“I think it would be helpful if you talked to someone about this,” he continued.

“I am talking to someone. You.”

“I mean a professional who's trained to deal with trauma.”

She forced a laugh. “That's your go-to, isn't it? Suggesting a shrink for every problem.”

“Counseling got me through some rough times in my life and made me believe in its effectiveness.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” she asked, mimicking his soothing tone.

“Ha!” He shook his head and grinned. “Nice try, kiddo. Nice try. Maybe when you open up about your past, I'll tell you about mine.”

She shrugged.

“Right. Just as I suspected.” He got up and stared down at her, his gaze probing, encouraging her to speak.

She'd never felt the urge to tell anyone about Tom or Haley because she didn't want their pity. But after seeing Archer's response a moment ago, maybe she could share a bit more with her teammates. Be less guarded. Perhaps.

“So hold it in, but don't be surprised if it all blows up in your face.” After another long look, he left the room, leaving Darcie alone in her confusion.

Noah suddenly stopped moving near the doorway, drawing her attention. His face was familiar. Like an old friend. His jaw slightly crooked. A light wave to his hair. Eyes that held secrets, if his earlier comment about losing a child was to be believed. She had a sudden desire to unearth those secrets he'd hinted at. To find out what he was keeping from her.

A desire that turned to unease when he stowed his phone and stepped into the room. His gaze sought her out. The urge to ask about his past was so strong she was already forming the question in her mind.

Could she talk to Noah without losing it? Maybe be less guarded in general, not only with the team, but with Noah, too?

If she took that step, what would happen then?

EIGHT

T
wo hours later, the front door opened and Noah shot to his feet, his hand automatically going to his gun.

“Relax,” Darcie said from her seat in the corner of the game room. “It's most likely Skyler.”

He wasn't about to relax until he confirmed with his own two eyes that it was indeed Skyler. He moved to the hallway, ready to act. Skyler rounded the corner and he blew out a breath before she or Darcie saw how much of himself he'd invested in protecting Darcie. How much the mere thought of an intruder made him as jumpy as a kangaroo.

He looked at Skyler's hands, hoping to see the file on Oleda's murder investigation. When he'd called Skyler after lunch, she'd told him that the metro gang task force had taken charge of Oleda's case. She'd offered to call Judson to obtain a copy, and Noah had agreed, as he'd hoped she'd have more luck in getting through to Judson.

“Still no file on Oleda, I see,” he said.

“I left a message with Judson.”

“Let me guess. No response yet.”

She nodded briskly.

“Well, at least I now know the guy isn't just blowing me off,” Noah said.

“I've worked with Judson several times and he's not one to ignore phone calls without good reason,” she pointed out. “Whatever's going down with his team has to be big.”

Noah had thought the same thing, but he hadn't let his thoughts end there. “I can't help but wonder if it somehow ties to our investigation.”

“All we can do is wait until we hear from him.”

Something Noah didn't want to do.

“Where's Darcie?” Skyler asked.

“Game room.”

After another short nod, she stepped down the hallway with purpose, like she had something important to tell her friend.

Noah followed her into the room, apprehension tightening his gut. Not that his gut had relaxed much since this whole thing started with Darcie. He couldn't remember a time in his life that he'd been so uneasy.

Skyler crossed the room to Darcie. “I thought Noah looked rough, but you look—”

Darcie flipped up a hand. “No need to tell me. I know I'm a mess, but I guess someone shooting at me qualifies as a bad day.” She winked like this was all a big joke.

Noah appreciated that she could joke, but he didn't find anything funny about her comment.

“Not sure this will help, but I have some news.” Skyler took out her small investigator's notebook.

“Let's have it,” Noah snapped, but when both heads shot up to look at him, he faked a smile. “Sorry. I'm getting tired of hitting brick walls. Go ahead.”

Skyler sat in a leather club chair. “I've ruled out two of the three Leland Kings, but the third one raises all kinds of red flags.” She met Noah's gaze directly, and that sick feeling in his gut intensified. “He lives in Eugene and was reported missing by his sister four days ago. Uniforms did a welfare check. He wasn't home, but they found blood on his sofa. No other sign of foul play.”

“Missing. Maybe dead,” Noah said.

“I didn't say that.”

“You don't have to. He's missing. He has a slash through his name on the hit list. That says it all.” Noah purposely avoided eye contact with Darcie, as he didn't want to see the added strain on her face. “Anything in his background check to link him to gang activity or Darcie's attack?”

Skyler shook her head. “He seems to be an upstanding citizen. No criminal record. Not even a speeding ticket. He's a graphic designer and owns his own firm. Late fifties. Never married. Nothing to suggest he was involved in anything nefarious.”

Darcie sat forward. “Do they have any idea what happened to him?”

“None,” Skyler answered. “The detective in charge of the case isn't sure if there was foul play or if Leland cut himself eating dinner in front of the TV, or something innocent like that. They checked area ERs and clinics. He didn't seek medical attention.”

“I'll need to talk to the detective,” Noah said.

“Way ahead of you.” Skyler ripped a page from her notebook and handed it to him. “Here's his contact information. He's very interested in your hit list, and I told him you'd be calling.”

Noah took the paper. “Strong detective work, Skyler. Thanks for your help.”

“Glad to do it.”

“I'll make an appointment to meet with him as soon as possible. I'll want to see King's home and review the detective's casebook.”

“Casebook?” Darcie asked.

“An indexed file of everything from witness statements to medical reports and an evidence log,” Noah replied. “A good detective will have a neat and organized file that I can copy.”

Skyler closed her notebook. “I also ran a thorough check on Pilar. She's squeaky clean.”

Darcie frowned. “I hate that you have to investigate them when they haven't done anything wrong.”

“Can't be helped,” Noah said. “They're a part of this through no fault of their own.”

Darcie jutted out her chin, looking like an adorable, pouty child. “Then you should investigate me, too.”

“Already am,” Noah replied without a bit of hesitation. “Or at least one of my fellow detectives is running a check on you.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“It's protocol, Darcie,” Skyler added.

“I know, but—”

“But you're worried we might learn something about your past that you haven't volunteered,” Skyler interrupted.

Darcie fiddled with her ball of yarn. “I don't have anything to hide, but yeah. My past is my story to tell. Not something I want you to learn from some report.”

“There's a solution to that.” Noah locked eyes with Darcie, waiting for her to capitulate and talk about her past.

She held his stare and returned it ounce for ounce. He felt the tension rolling off her, but she didn't bat an eye. Didn't say a word.
Fine.
She still didn't plan on sharing her past with him. He deserved that. He hadn't told her about Evan, either.

“I'm still working on Mayte,” Skyler went on as if he and Darcie weren't engaged in a stare down.

Noah changed his focus to Skyler. “I suspect she has a long arrest record.”

Skyler nodded. “Which is why it's taking longer to pull together. I've requested case files for each of her arrests to see if any of them are gang-related.”

“For Isabel's and Pilar's sake, I hope the answer is no,” Darcie said with grim certainty.

Noah wasn't optimistic. He suspected Mayte's habitual drug use brought her in contact with gangs, and he wouldn't be surprised if they discovered a connection to Darcie's attack.

* * *

Darcie took a breath before answering Noah's request to spend the night at the firehouse to keep watch over her. He looked stubbornly set in his decision, but Darcie wasn't ready to concede yet. She couldn't. Just the thought of him staying close by all night sent unwanted emotions firing.

“Well?” he asked, looking hopeful.

“I'm not declining your help,” she said as firmly as she could without making him think she was ungrateful. “But I'm well protected with the team surrounding me. You don't need to stay here tonight.”

“I get that, I honestly do, but for my own peace of mind I have to be close by.” He planted his hands on his waist and met her gaze. “If you say no, I'll sleep in the car.”

“That's not the answer. You'll be uncomfortable and I'll feel guilty all night.”

“Then the solution is to let me stay here.”

She sighed and knew it was time to give in. “I'm already sleeping on the couch in my condo so Pilar and Isabel can share my bed. You'll have to make do down here.” She nodded at the large sofa in the family room. “Is that close enough for you?”

“Sure. As long as you promise not to leave the property via the back door.”

“I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”

“We're ready, Darcie,” Isabel called out from the down the hall in the game room.

Her sweet little voice sounding so eager and ready for a simple game of Go Fish lightened Darcie's mood and she vowed to forget the drama of her life to help provide Isabel with a tension-free atmosphere.

“Mind if I join you?” Noah asked.

“You seriously want to play Go Fish?”

“Are you kidding?” His lips tipped in a charming grin, sending her heart singing. “When I was growing up, I was the champion Go Fish player in all of Washington County.”

“They had tournaments, did they?” Darcie said snidely as they headed for the game room.

“What?” He gave her a look of mock surprise. “You've never heard of them?”

“I grew up in Florida. Though I'm sure the tournament was a momentous occasion, your wins didn't make the national news.”

He tossed back his head and laughed. The joyful sound melted her heart. Just like that. Into a puddle. She loved seeing this lighter side of him. It was something she desperately needed in her own life. She'd survived the loss of Haley, the abandonment of Tom, but joy? She could honestly say she hadn't found that again.

Lord, did You put Noah in my life to show me the way back?

It was thinking like this that was the very reason he shouldn't be staying the night. She needed to make sure they weren't ever alone together. She hurried ahead of him into the game room painted a cheerful yellow. Isabel and Pilar sat at a table in front of a wall of shelves filled with books and board games.

Pillar looked up. She looked weary and her shoulders sagged. Darcie stopped by the older woman and rested her hand on Pilar's forehead before taking her pulse.

Pilar forced a smile. “You do not need to fuss.”

“Shh,” Noah said. “If you argue, it'll just take longer, 'cause once she's made up her mind...” He winked.

Darcie looked up at him and couldn't help but smile. “You know me that well, do you, Noah Lockhart?”

His gaze darkened. “I guess as well as you'll let anyone know you, yes.”

His serious response took her aback for a moment and she stared at him. She hadn't expected an honest answer when they'd been joking. She wasn't surprised that the good humor in the room had evaporated and tension took its place.

“Can we please start?” Isabel begged from her seat across the table.

Pilar cast a warning look at Isabel and shook her head.

Isabel's happy expression crumpled and Darcie's heart cracked. The child had been through so much. Pilar was trying to make up for it, but the years of neglect remained in Isabel's eyes at times. Darcie had cherished Haley. Tried to be the mother Darcie had never had growing up. And when Darcie saw another child suffering, she couldn't stand by and not get involved. Darcie could best help Isabel by keeping the mood light around here and making sure Pilar fully recovered.

Darcie turned back to Pilar. “I can tell you're exhausted. You should go up to bed.”

“But Isabel...”

“Go Fish can be played with three people.” Noah stepped over to Pilar and helped her stand. “Darcie and I will take care of Isabel.”

“Absolutely.” Darcie ruffled Isabel's curls. “It's always a pleasure to spend time with this little munchkin.”

Isabel looked up at Darcie. “What's a munchkin?”

“I'll explain as we play Go Fish.” Darcie started to shuffle the cards and Noah escorted Pilar out of the room.

He cupped her good arm and moved slowly. Gently. Tenderly, as he'd done after Darcie's attack. Of course, she'd been too freaked out to appreciate how considerate he'd been. And then, she'd added to his challenge by trying to fight him. By continuing to fight him. He didn't deserve that. Plus her actions could be distracting when he needed to focus. She'd seen officers who'd let distractions get in the way—it often resulted in injury. One died of a gunshot to the chest. Right on her gurney.

She shuddered at the memory. She couldn't cause the same thing to happen to Noah.

“I can deal the cards if you can't,” Isabel proclaimed.

Darcie slid the cards to the precious little girl and her thoughts turned to games played with Haley. To the crisp, cool day in the fall when Haley buried herself in a pile of colorful maple leaves at the curb. To the senior citizen who'd lost control of his car. Jumped the curb.

Darcie had seen it happen right in front of her eyes, as if in slow motion. She hadn't been able to stop the man from losing control of his car. She also couldn't control the chances of something bad happening to Noah as they searched for her attacker.

She had to face facts. No matter how hard she tried, she had no control over life-and-death matters. That would never change, and unless it did, her recent thoughts of opening up to others didn't matter one little bit.