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I pressed the pedal under my desk to cue up the radio, my heart rate ticking up a notch. “Standby.”
“Copy,” came Bailey’s reply.
Bailey and Jackson needed help, and here I was, their only lifeline in a critical moment. The reality of the situation struckme—these calls weren’t just names and numbers on a screen; they were friends, family, people I had come to love. And even if the situation didn’t involve someone I knew, the involved parties weresomeone’sfamily or friends.
I fell right back into the realization of how monumental this job was—a guardian of sorts—and one who couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.
As quickly as I could, I skimmed through the updates on the current calls for service. There was a theft at the Caffeinated Squirrel, but it was minor, and the thief was a tourist who was already gone.
Perfect.
The other calls were for in-progress things, which meant they couldn’t be cleared yet. Though, I’d bet my life that Gertie caused the criminal damage at Mrs. McClusky’s house, and the officers assigned to that call were looking for a human when they should’ve been looking for a goat.
Either way, the cafe theft could be picked up later, so I selected the channel the officers were on and pressed down on the radio pedal again. “240-Paul, are you clear for emergency traffic?”
“10-4,” he affirmed.
“Can you break from that call and head to the truck stop on the east side of town? Route 11, mile marker 49. Ambo 92 is requesting a PD assist.”
“10-4, show me 17.”
“10-4,” I replied, my fingers flying over the keys as I removed Officer Sheridan’s call sign from the theft and marked him as en route to the new call at the truck stop.
Then I keyed up on the radio and told Bailey help was on the way, jumping when I heard a snort from behind me.
I spun in my chair, glaring up at Adam.
“Somethin’ funny?” I asked, grinding my teeth as I took in the amusement in his eyes.
“Whatever it is, Jackson can’t handle it?”
“Bailey called it in,” I bit out, putting the theft call back on the board for another officer to pick up whenever they were available.
“Hang on,” Adam grumbled.
I didn’t look at him, figuring he was calling Jackson to get the scoop on the scene, but then I heard him speak into the radio, and my head snapped in his direction.
“240-Paul, you can head back to the Squirrel. I’ll be 17 to the truck stop.”
I gaped at him. “You’ll be what? You’re supposed to be in the briefin’ room. You’re not even on the board yet.”
“I came to tell you to put our squad on the board early. We’re already done with briefin’. I’ll go to the truck stop so Sheridan doesn’t have to break away.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I miss the part where you became the dispatcher, not me?” I asked, fully spinning again in my fancy, ergonomic chair—one I’d ordered online immediately after seeing the chair Peggy Ann had likely been sitting in since the eighties.
Adam smirked. “Nah. There’s nothin’ I’d hate more than bein’ trapped inside on a nice day like this.”
“I’d rather be in here than out there, with you on the loose.”
He tilted his head.
It wasn’t a good comeback, and I knew it. Officer Adam Wilson being “set loose” on anything wasn’t a very scary thought. In fact, this whole town knew it meant they couldn’t get away with as much as they could when he was off duty.
The man had a knack for stopping trouble in its tracks—unlike me, of course, who tended to cause it even when that was only because no one appreciated my ingenuity.
“Don’t you have somethin’ dispatchy to do?” he asked, gesturing at the screens behind me.
I did.Twodispatchy things, in fact, since now I needed to correct the changes to the first call at the Squirrel and then replace Sheridan with Adam on the second.
