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But there was no time to answer.
The EMTs loaded Jocelyn onto a stretcher and raced for the ambulance. “Let’s go! We’re losing her!”
Chapter Two
Okay. Maybe cookies didn’t make everything better.
Though she’d kill for one right now.
Jocelyn swallowed through the bitterness collecting at the back of her tongue, like she’d eaten something burned beyond recognition. And a grating rhythm wouldn’t let up from one side. Ugh. She’d always hated that sound. As helpful as heart monitors were to let physicians and nurses know the patient was still alive, they could’ve set the damn sound on something far more pleasant.
That wasn’t really what she was mad about, but it helped her focus. She curled her fingers into her palms. Her skin felt too tight. Dry. One look at the backs of her hands confirmed the blisters there. The monitor followed the spike in her heart rate, but the pain never came. That was the beauty of painkillers. They masked the hurt inside. But only temporarily. Sooner or later, she’d have to face it. Though, based on the slow drip into her IV, she still had some time.
“Here I thought a visit from Socorro would be the worst part of my day.” Recognition flared hot and uncomfortable as Chief Baker Halsey leaned forward in the chair set beside her bed. A few scratches marred that otherwise flawless face she’d memorized over the past six months. It was easy, really. To catch herself watching him. To lose herself in that quiet intensity he exuded. “Sorry to tell you I couldn’t save the cookies.”
“Good thing I made extra.” She tried to sit up in the bed, but the mattress was too soft. It threatened to swallow her whole if she wasn’t careful. Glaring white tile and cream-washed walls closed in around her. Right back where she didn’t want to be. Her attention shifted to the chart at the end of her bed. Her medical history would be in there. Clear for all physicians and nurses to see. What she could and couldn’t have in moments like this. A wave of self-consciousness flared behind her rib cage. Would the hospital keep it confidential during the investigation into the bombing? Or did Baker already know? “You got me out?”
“You wanted me to leave you there?” He was distracting himself again, looking anywhere but at her. “It was nothing. If it hadn’t been for that small moose you order around, I would’ve gotten you out quicker. Maybe realized you’d taken a piece of shrapnel sooner.”
Maverick. Her nerves went under attack. If he’d been hurt in the blast... Fractured memories of the seconds leading up to the explosion frayed the harder she tried to latch on to them. The monitor on the other side of the bed went wild. “Where is he?”
“Animal Control got hold of him at the scene. He was trying to fight off the EMTs, but that might’ve been my fault.” Baker spread his hands in a wide gesture, highlighting the scraps and bruising along his forearms. “I told him to guard you before I nearly died trying to get a clerk out of the other side of the trailer. Apparently Fido took me seriously.”
She didn’t have the energy to fight back about Maverick’s name. “But he’s okay? He’s not hurt?”
“Yeah. He’s fine.” Confusion, tainted with a hint of concern, etched deep into Baker’s expression. “Gotta tell you, Carville. I figured you’d be more worried about the chunk of metal they had to take out of you than your sidekick.”
“Maverick saved our lives.” It was all she was willing to offer right then. “If it wasn’t for him picking up that bomb, neither of us would’ve made it out of that trailer.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Baker scrubbed one busted up hand down his face, and suddenly it was as though he’d aged at least three years. He looked heavy and exhausted and beaten. Same as when he’d discovered one of his own deputies had secretly been working for the cartel.
Her chest constricted at witnessing the pain he carried, but she couldn’t focus on that right now. They had more important things to contend with. Like the fact that Alpine Valley’s police department was under attack. “Any leads?”
“Nothing yet. Albuquerque’s bomb squad is en route. As of right now, all I’ve got is theories.” Baker leaned back in his seat. “Alpine Valley hasn’t seen any bombings like this before. Most of what we respond to is domestic calls and overdoses.”
Until recently. He didn’t have to say the words—the implication was already there. A fraction of residents in Alpine Valley had rallied against a military contractor setting up their headquarters so close to town. They’d believed having the federal government so close would aggravate relations between Sangre por Sangre and the towns at their mercy. So far, they’d been right.
“Socorro employs a combat controller,” Jocelyn said. “Jones Driscoll has investigated IEDs overseas. I’m sure he’d be able to help until the bomb squad can get here.”
“You want me to bring in a mercenary to investigate the bombing.” It wasn’t a question.
She wasn’t sure if it was the pain medication, his determination to call her K-9 by the wrong name or his insistence that she was part of a group of people who killed targets for money. None of it was sitting very well with the explosive memories fighting for release and the blisters along the backs of her hands. Her determination to hang on to the silver lining was slipping, threatening to put her right back into the hole she’d spent months crawling out of. “Is that all you think of me when you see me in town? When I handed you that piece of lemon bread or brought you those cookies earlier today? Do you really look at me and see a killer?”
He didn’t answer.
“Either you just don’t get it or you don’t want to—I don’t know which, and frankly, I don’t really care—but you and I are on the same team. We want the same thing. To keep Sangre por Sangre from claiming Alpine Valley and all those other towns just like it.” She didn’t like this. Being the one to tell the hard truths. Dipping her toes in that inky-black pool of who she used to be. “Socorro has federal resources you’ll never be able to get your hands on, and shutting us out will be the worst thing you can do for the people you claim to be protecting. So use us. Useme.”
Tension flexed the muscles running from his neck and along his shoulders as he straightened in the chair. Such a minor movement, but one that spoke volumes. The small fluctuations in that guarded expression released. “Does the dog have to come with the deal?”
The knot in her stomach relaxed a bit. Not entirely, but enough she could take a full breath. After months of pushing back, Baker was entertaining the thought of trusting someone outside of his small circle of officers. It was a step in the right direction. “Yeah. He does.”
“All right, but I’m not going to blindly trust a bunch of mercs—soldiers—without getting the lay of the land first. I want to meet your team.” A defensiveness she’d always wanted to work beyond encapsulated him back into chief mode, where no one could get through. “This is still my investigation. I make the calls. Everything pertaining to this case comes through me. I want background checks, service records, financials, right down to what you’re all allergic to—the whole enchilada. Understand?”
Mmm. Enchiladas. Okay. Maybe a half a roll of cookie dough for breakfast wasn’t the best idea she’d had today.
“I think that can be arranged.” Jocelyn felt the inner warmth coming back, the darkness retreating. This was how it was supposed to be. Her and Baker working together for a common goal in the name of justice. Not on opposite sides of the table. Still, as hard as she might try to keep sunshine and unicorns throughout her days, she wasn’t going to roll over to the chief’s every whim. “But I have a condition of my own. You have to call Maverick by his real name.”
A small break in that composure sent victory charging through the aching places in her body. “Why does that matter? It’s not like he’s going to take orders from me. I already tried that. Look how it turned out—he almost took my hand off.”
