Author Note: Thanks again to all my readers and especially to those who have reviewed! Marbo, I think a number of your questions are answered in this chapter. I was proud of Chet, too. He managed to surprise me with that! As to whether Johnny likes his new look, he hasn't had a chance to tell me yet, but I'm pretty sure he'll be horrified. :P Penlew, Shawna likes your idea for her to stick around and get to know Johnny better. Keep in mind, though, that this is a prequel to several of my other stories, and there's at least one character who would strenuously object to this idea. Thanks as always to my beta readers, katbybee and Piscean6724—you ladies have become a crucial part of my writing process, and I am grateful for your support, encouragement, and friendship.
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When Roy screeched to a stop behind an ambulance, Station 51 was buzzing with police and a small crowd of gawkers stood on the sidewalk, kept at a distance by a couple of officers. Roy had a feeling the place would soon be crawling with reporters, too — he was glad he'd beaten them there. He sat for a moment, eyes taking in the scene, looking everywhere for any hint of Megan. Mike hadn't said she was there, but he couldn't help hoping. "Do you see her, Jo? I don't see her."
"No." Jo reached to place her hand on his. "She'll be back, Roy. I just know we'll get her back."
Roy didn't answer. If he said what he was thinking, he would just hurt her again, and he didn't want to do that. But he wanted to know how the hell she was managing to stay so calm. What exactly does she base her conviction on, anyway? But he didn't have time to think about it. He needed to move. "Stay here, honey." He jumped out of the car and sprinted towards the cluster of men standing around a figure on the ground, flashing his badge to the police officers, who moved to let him pass.
"Johnny?!" Roy watched as they cut away a bomb vest and handed it over to a police officer who stood by. "Johnny, where's Megan? You gotta tell me… was she with you?"
"He's unconscious, Roy," Bob said, gently pulling him back while Charlie got on the horn with Rampart. "And I don't think he could tell you if he weren't. He did manage to whisper something to Kelly before he passed out, but you could tell it was an effort. I'm surprised he's still breathing, to be honest. His tongue is swollen and he's got sores all over the inside of his mouth."
What the hell did that bastard do to him?! Roy knelt at Johnny's side, his eyes drawn immediately to a tell-tale hole in the blood-stained fabric of his friend's filthy t-shirt — the same LACoFD shirt he'd been wearing when he stopped by the DeSotos' house before heading off on his camping trip. "He got shot?"
"Yeah, by that jerk over there." Charlie pointed to the man who was handcuffed and being questioned by the police.
"Eddie Guinness?" Roy clenched his jaw. Part of him wanted to go tear the guy to pieces, but that wouldn't do Johnny or Megan any good.
"I don't know… we've kind of been preoccupied over here, Roy." The edge in Bob's voice faded as he continued, and he clapped Roy on the back. "Listen, we've got things under control. Why don't you go find out what he said to Kelly?"
Roy could take a hint. As Johnny's partner in the field, he felt a powerful urge to push his way in and take over the man's care, but he resisted it. His friend was in good hands. Roy needed to think about Megan right now. He lay a hand on Johnny's back. "Hang in there, pal," he murmured. "You gotta make it." Then he tore himself away and went in search of Chet.
He finally caught sight of him sitting at the back of the garage, out of view of the gawkers, looking pale, maybe a little shocky. What the hell was he doing hiding there, not even trying to help?! Roy's blood started to boil, and he stalked in that direction, but Cap grabbed his arm before he got past the engine and pulled him back.
"Hang on there, Roy. No need to go after Kelly with that sour look on your face. You have no clue what happened here."
Roy scowled. "I see him just sittin' there, Cap, while everyone else is busy helping. Bob says Gage whispered somethin' to Kelly, and I need to know what it was. I gotta find Megan!"
"Roy, take a deep breath." Jo's fingers interlaced with his and she pressed up against him.
He whirled around, angry words spewing out of his mouth before he had a chance to think better of them. "Dammit, Jo! I said stay in the car!"
Her hand flew so fast he didn't even realize it until he felt the sting of her slap on his cheek. "I'm not a dog, Roy!" she snapped, a tear beginning to track its way down her cheek. "Megan is my daughter too, you know."
"Shoulda seen that comin' a mile away, pal," Mike muttered in Roy's ear as he passed behind him. "This is what I was tryin' to tell you the other day." He was gone before Roy could respond. At least Cap had the good grace not to comment. Probably figures Jo already said it all.
Instead, Cap put a hand on Roy's shoulder and guided him away, beckoning for Jo to join them. "Before you talk to Chet, I want to tell you exactly what went on here."
Five minutes later, feeling humbled, Roy sank down next to Chet while Cap took Jo inside the station for a cup of tea to settle her nerves.
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Eddie kept the radio on as he drove back up the 405, expecting any time to hear news break of an explosion at Station 51. It should've gone off just as I was getting on the highway… shouldn't I have heard it? He frowned, hoping that nothing had gone wrong with his plan. At last, about the time he was merging onto the 110, the report he was waiting for came on. He turned up the volume and leaned slightly forward in breathless anticipation.
"This is Tommy Kent from KXLU. I'm coming to you with a special report from Carson, California. There has been an attempted murder at Los Angeles County Fire Station 51. It's really a wild story, folks. I haven't been able to get a statement from any of the firefighters involved, but media liaisons from the fire department, FBI, and Los Angeles Police Department are about to issue a joint statement. While we're waiting for them to start, let me describe what I'm seeing. There is an ambulance here and an injured man on the ground. It looks like police have another man cuffed in one of their squad cars. I'm told the injured man might be the fireman who went missing a little over a week ago and has since allegedly robbed a number of banks from Bakersfield to Riverside while strapped into an explosive vest, but I have not been able to get any official confirmation on that identity. Perhaps our media liaisons will address that for us. Hang on now… something is happening. Looks like Lindy McLeod from the FBI is stepping up to the mic. Let's listen in —"
Eddie curled up a fist and pounded it on the steering wheel. A car horn blared, and he realized he had swerved out of his lane. Breathing heavily, he got back in his lane, then gave his attention to that McLeod dame.
"— approximately 11:03 a.m., an attempt was made on the lives of Los Angeles County Fire Station 51's A-Shift. That attempt was unsuccessful. We have one man seriously injured, but no fatalities. Police have one suspect in custody. A full investigation is in progress, and a search is ongoing for anyone else who may be connected with this crime. We hope you will respect the decision taken jointly by the fire department, the FBI, and the LA Police Department to protect the privacy of all parties involved. Once our investigation is complete, a public report will be made. We will not be taking questions today, but a new statement will be issued at noon tomorrow. Thank you."
And like that, it was over. Eddie cussed as he snapped off the radio. Somehow he had failed again! The first time was when Orville got shot and died, and now he had mangled his quest for revenge. Not quite failed, he thought as the image of the brat filled his mind. I've still got her. She's my ticket to success.
The rest of the way back to the cabin, he took great care to observe the speed limit. Angry as he was, he could not afford to get picked up by the police now. He needed to get back to the cabin and talk with Shawna, find out what happened to the bomb. He had a sneaking suspicion that grew in his mind with each passing mile that she was the one who messed with it. Gage couldn't have done it, not chained up and drugged, and clearly someone had because Gage couldn't have hoofed it all the way to the station with enough time left to disarm it.
He consoled himself as he drove by considering his options. His first thought was to call Crockett and offer to trade the kid for her dad, but he decided there were too many ways that could go wrong. No, best just to do what he told Gage he was going to do if Gage fouled up… he would kill the brat as soon as he got back to the cabin. No, Shawna first, after he found out exactly what she had done. And then he'd be on his way before anyone could find him.
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Mike looked around at the remnants of the day's unexpected events. Chief Houts had declared 51's A-Shift stood down, and soon Mike would head to Rampart to join the others waiting for news on Johnny, but he'd told Cap he didn't want to leave the driveway looking like this. The police hadn't needed much time to collect evidence from the scene, so he was free to clean up. Roy and Jo had gone to Rampart with Lt. Crockett. The news cameras had left with the ambulance, the police had taken that vigilante Jed Something into custody, and Cap and Marco had driven Chet over to Rampart because they didn't think he was up to driving himself. That left Mike alone at the Station until their overtime replacements got there to take over.
The sight of Johnny's blood staining the concrete made him sick to his stomach, so he decided to deal with that first, before he moved on to the odds and ends left over after the paramedics did their work. To be honest, he was surprised how little blood there was. Bob and Charlie had said it was because there wasn't an exit wound. The bullet that struck Johnny had lodged inside him, possibly somewhere near his spine. Most of the blood was on the shirt and jacket the paramedics had to cut off him, and the police had taken that into evidence along with the bomb vest.
Mike pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, then set to work vigorously scrubbing at the stains with a stiff brush. With every stroke, he prayed silently for Johnny. For Megan. For Roy and Jo and Chris. For Chet. For his own sweet Beth, who had been struggling with memories of their little Sarah, just as he had been, ever since Megan went missing. Please God, don't let it happen that way for Roy and Jo. Help us find her and get her home safe.
He was just about to pour a detergent mixture over the stains and then start scrubbing again when he saw it… a small slip of notepaper on the edge of the driveway, filled with loopy handwriting. Curious, he picked it up and scanned the text. Then, forgetting all about cleaning up, he stuffed the note in his pocket, jumped to his feet and ran through the garage. After pounding the button to close the automatic door, he hurried out to the lot where Hannah, his beloved Dodge Dart, was parked, and climbed in behind the wheel. Then he sped out of the lot, onto 223rd, and all the way to Rampart.
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Though his mind kept going back to Megan, Roy did his best to pay attention to Dr. Early's report on Johnny. He would have to figure out how to fix things with Jo later. She sat on the other side of the waiting room, back rigid, hands folded in her lap, her face pale and tight. She hadn't spoken a word to him since right after she slapped him.
"Roy?" Dr. Early put a hand on his shoulder. "Roy, are you all right?"
Roy rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'm fine, Doc. It's just my mind is torn in all sorts of directions. I'm sorry… I missed what you said."
"It's completely understandable, Roy. I know this week has been brutal for you and your family. Let me give you the short version. The bullet struck and fractured Johnny's spinal column, at about T10, causing soft tissue damage and swelling around the cord. We just got the blood work back, and we're prepping him for surgery now. We're going to try to remove the bullet, but there's a chance we'll have to leave it where it is."
Realization hit Roy like a punch in the gut. "So… he's paralyzed?"
"We don't know yet. It's probable, but it's also possible that with time and therapy, he could come back a hundred percent. We're not giving up hope."
"Yeah." Roy sighed. "Thanks Doc. Um… what about the sores in his mouth?"
"Mouth, throat, and gastric lesions, caused by ingesting dieffenbachia leaves — we found some identifiable fragments caught in his teeth. Thankfully, his airway was not compromised. It'll be a while before he'll be —"
"Roy!" Mike came running into the waiting room, waving a slip of paper in the air. "I found this close to where Johnny fell. It must have been in his pocket!"
"Go on, Roy," Dr. Early said. "See what it is. I need to get upstairs."
"Uh, yeah… thanks, Doc." As Early left to go up to surgery, Roy turned his attention to Mike. He took the paper and read it carefully: To whoever reads this, don't worry about the bomb vest, I disabled it so it won't blow. The guy giving you this note isn't a bad guy. He's just trying to keep the DeSoto girl safe from the real bad guy, Eddie Guinness. I want to help her, too. We're at a cabin in the hills just north of Tujunga. I don't know the address, but there's a long dirt road that leads to it. Please send help! Shawna Taylor
"What is it, Roy?" Jo asked softly. She had sidled up next to Roy without him noticing.
He passed her the note. Once she'd read it, he pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry I'm such a jerk. You're right — we're gonna get her back. I… uh… we gotta show this to Crockett. I think I know the road it's talking about — it's close to where Johnny likes to camp."
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Eddie would be back soon, Shawna was sure of it, and he was going to be angry. She didn't want to sedate the little girl again, but she needed to be sure she wouldn't cry out. She wasn't going to use an injection this time — instead, she broke a Benadryl tablet in half and crumbled it into a cup of water. The girl had wrinkled her nose and whined, but she drank it.
Shawna wished she had a car, because then she could just put the girl in it and drive away. But Eddie had driven off that morning in the stolen van, and he'd taken Gage's keys with him. Hot wiring a vehicle was beyond her, and she didn't dare try walking into the woods with a sick kid in tow. She knew roughly which way town was, but she had no idea what sort of terrain lay between there and the cabin, and she sure wouldn't be able to outrun Eddie if he came after her.
No, it was better to stay here and hide the little girl. She'd spent some time looking for a safe place, and thought she'd found one that would escape Eddie's notice. There was a closet in the bedroom, and in the back of it, there was a small door that led to a crawl space. Shawna could barely fit inside on her hands and knees. She'd worried at first that it might be infested with spiders or something else nasty, but when she pulled everything out of the closet and then hesitantly pulled open the crawl-space door, she found a small, clean storage space with a wooden plank floor and timber walls. She had made a small bed in there with the blankets and a pillow. If I don't come out of this alive, hopefully she'll be safe in there till someone comes to find us.
She carried the sleeping girl to the crawl space and gave her a kiss on the forehead, then lay her inside. "Everything will be OK, honey," she promised. "You'll be back with Mama and Daddy tonight." Then she closed the door, leaving just a crack open to let air in, and returned everything to the closet, doing her best to conceal the entry to the crawl space. Finally, she came out and went to wait for Eddie.
About twenty minutes later, she heard the VW bus before she saw it. She quickly locked the only door into the cabin, then, hidden behind the curtains, she watched out the front window. When the bus came in sight, Eddie barreled toward the cabin so fast that, at first, Shawna thought maybe he was planning to ram it. But he slammed on the brakes just in time, then threw open the door, jumped down, and stalked toward the front steps, his face almost as red as his hair. When she'd first met him, she'd thought that face was handsome. He would whisper sweet-nothings in her ear and kiss her with a passion. And even though he delighted in fighting any other guy who paid attention to her, his hands were always gentle with her. He'd brought her lots of presents back then too. Expensive ones. Mama always suspected he had stolen them, but Shawna didn't want to believe it. Now she knew better. Now she hated the sight of his face, especially when it was twisted with rage as it was now. Instead of sweet-nothings, he hissed insults in her ears. His hands hadn't been gentle with her for a long time. She stroked her dad's gun, which she had hidden under her jacket. "I'm sorry, Dad," she whispered. "I'll try to make it up to you."
He was pounding at the door now, shouting and cursing. "Open this door, Shawna, now!" She'd locked the door in hopes of slowing him down, but it wouldn't take him long to break in. Now she positioned herself at the back of the room, blocking the door to the bedroom. She wanted to keep him as far from the kid as she could.
She jumped back when he threw his whole weight against the door, making the whole cabin shake. "I'm going to kill you, you whore!" With every other word, he hit the door again, and on the last blow, it gave, breaking open, and he stumbled inside.
His eyes wild, he moved toward Shawna. "It's all your fault, you bi —"
"Stop right there!" she cried, pulling out the gun and pointing it at him, her finger on the trigger.
"You wouldn't dare," he said, but he slowed his advance and tempered his voice. "C'mon now, Shawna." He had gone from barking to cajoling, his tone suddenly sickly sweet. But she wasn't about to let him fool her this time. "Honey, don't do something you'll regret for the rest of your life."
"I've already done that," she choked out. "This will only make things better."
"Where's the kid, Shawna," he soothed. "I'm not going to hurt her. I've seen how you care about her. Let's just take her with us. You wanna be a mommy, Shawna? You could be, Baby. Go get her and let's get outta here."
It was that old charm in his voice, the way he'd talked to her back in high school. The way he'd convinced her to get drunk the first time, to sleep with him the first time, to smoke her first joint… and, years later, the way he'd convinced her to steal drugs from the hospital and run away with him to take his vengeance on the paramedics who had let his brother die. She wasn't going to buy it this time. "No. I'm not letting you touch her again." She raised the gun slightly. "My aim's real good, Eddie. Daddy made sure of that."
"You ain't gonna shoot me," Eddie growled low in his throat. "You're too soft."
"Try me, you bastard." She tried to keep her voice steely, but it wavered and caught in her throat, and he must have interpreted that as a sign of weakness because that's when he lunged toward her. She was furious at herself for hesitating, but the idea of actually taking a life — even his life — terrified her.
Before she could pull herself together and fire, Eddie grabbed her arm and pushed it up so that the first bullet went into the ceiling. Shawna's ears began to ring violently. With his other hand — that hand that once stroked her hair as he told her how beautiful she was — Eddie took her by the throat and began to squeeze, ramming the back of her head hard against the closed bedroom door. Before long, her vision began to grey around the edges. The last thing she heard before she passed out was another gunshot.