CHAPTER FIVE!
THE man in Lomita wasn't even suffering from a heart attack.
When the nervous, old gentleman keeled over in his living room, his wife instantly thought he was going into cardiac arrest. She called the fire department without hesitation. When Johnny and Roy arrived, though, what they found was a poor elderly man suffering from nothing more than acute hyperventilation syndrome. Apparently he'd never flown on an airplane before and was leaving for LAX that afternoon for a flight to Austin to visit his son. His apprehension had been eating him up all morning until it finally cumulated into a panic attack.
Johnny and Roy transported him as a precaution over his age, but for the most part the man seemed fine after breathing into a paper bag the entire way over to Rampart.
Now, Johnny and Roy were leaving Rampart, on their way back to the station.
"You know," Johnny spoke up, watching palm trees planted along the sidewalk go by as they drove past, "I think I know what your problem is, Roy."
Roy glanced over at him for a second. The look on his face spoke for itself, informing Johnny that he had no idea what he was even talk about. "What is that supposed to mean?" Roy questioned.
Johnny rested his arm on the sill of the open truck window. "You know—why you and Joanne don't go out enough."
"Are we still talking about this?"
"I think it's 'cuz you haven't found a real good baby sitter yet."
"Johnny—I already said that I'd—"
"Now—just listen to this, Roy." Johnny didn't have time for Roy's objections. His plan was fool-proof and he knew it. "I know how much you hate to rely on your dear, old mother-in-law for these kinds of things, so I got to thinking about it. When we go out on Friday you can have my niece watch the kids for you."
Roy squinted. "Your niece?"
"Yeah, CeCe—she's fourteen and she loves to babysit. Plus, she doesn't charge that much..."
"Oh, well." Roy shrugged a little and then turned left onto Wilmington. "I wouldn't want to trouble her..."
"No trouble at all!" Johnny knew CeCe was always looking for new babysitting jobs. She'd be thrilled to hear about this. "She lives in Redondo Beach, so it's not too far for her to go, and she's great with kids."
"I guess if you can work it out...I still have to talk to Joanne about the whole thing."
"Call her when we get back, th—"
The radio cut Johnny off mid-sentence then, and they both silenced themselves to listen.
"Squad 51?" the dispatcher asked. "Are you available?"
Johnny picked up the radio. "10-4, LA. We're en route to Station 51."
"There is an unknown type rescue in your area."
"We'll take it." Johnny gave a sidelong glance to Roy as they both put on their helmets.
"22589 South Vermont Avenue, number 227, cross street: 228th. Time out: 10:45."
Johnny quickly wrote the address down as Roy flipped the siren on and sped up.
They reached the address several minutes later, finding themselves at a typical-looking apartment complex. They jumped out of the squad, and jogged to get the bio-phone, medicine box, and portable oxygen tank. One could never be too sure with an "unknown type rescue." Then they made their way up to room 227.
Outside in the hallway, an older woman stood in front of 227, worriedly wringing her hands. The second she saw them coming her way, she went up to them.
"Are you the gentlemen from the fire department?" she asked.
"Yes," Roy answered. "Did you call for help?"
The woman shook her head, her permed grey hair bouncing with her movement. "It isn't me," she told them. "It's my neighbour, Dana Caldwell."
"What's wrong with her?" Johnny asked.
"Well..." the woman put her hands out before her as she explained. "I haven't seen her the entire morning, and that just isn't normal. She usually says good morning to me when we both go to get our mail downstairs and she heads off to work."
"Do you know for sure if she's in there or not?" Roy asked, gesturing to the door.
"I'm sure." The woman remained adamant. "I would have seen her. And look, I think she and her husband had a terrible fight last night. I think he might have done something to her."
"Did you call the police?" Johnny asked.
The woman waved her hand around as if to dismiss that notion. "They never do anything! The last time I called them, they said there was nothing they could do because Dana wouldn't talk to them. Now, listen to me, I think that rotten husband did something terrible to her this time. And I saw him leave for work! I waited until he was gone to call you."
"Look," Roy explained. "We can't just break into someone's apartment unless we know for sure that they're in danger."
The woman stamped her foot. "Hm! I should have known calling the fire department was a mistake. You're even less helpful than the police!"
"What if she's right, Roy?" Johnny speculated. He walked up to the door and knocked. "Hello," he hollered. "Anyone home? This is the fire department!"
Johnny and Roy both put their ears up to the door, listening carefully.
"Help...me..."
It was very faint, but Johnny was pretty sure of what he heard. He looked to Roy for clarification and asked him if he'd heard it too.
"I sure did," Roy said. He turned and looked to the woman then. "Excuse me, Ms...?"
"Roth," she offered.
"Ms. Roth—I need you to do me a favour and call the sheriff's department. Can you do that?"
Ms. Roth nodded. "I sure can!" And then she was off to her own apartment next door.
Johnny then kicked open the door. "I've always wanted to do that," he said with a crooked smirk as they both rushed inside. What they found within was nothing to smile about, however.
The young woman lay on the floor by the couch, her long brown hair splayed out beneath her like a fan. "Help me," she groaned again groggily. "Please. I...I can't move."
Johnny and Roy hurried to kneel at her side. They did a few initial checks on her. Her skin was pale, covered with a fine cold sweat, and her breathing was laboured. She had a terrible black eye, but that appeared to be the least serious of her injuries.
"My leg," she wheezed, "It's broken, I think..."
Johnny checked it and it appeared she was right. He glanced over his shoulder. The coffee table was toppled and it seemed as though she had stumbled over it—or had been shoved over it.
The whole situation was beginning to make him sick to his stomach. He had to force himself to think objectively—it was the only way to make it through.
"Are you injured anywhere else?" Roy asked her.
The young woman made a terrible face. "Oh...my stomach...he wouldn't stop hurting me." She sobbed. "You won't tell him about this, will you? You won't tell him?"
"No," Roy said calmly. "But we did call the police. Whoever did this to you isn't going to get away with it."
Dana Caldwell grimaced, turning her head to the side.
"Johnny" Roy went on. "I'm going to check her vitals. Would you check her abdomen for injuries and then call the hospital?"
Johnny nodded and was on task right away. He lifted the bottom half of the young woman's flowery blouse to look at her stomach. To Johnny's dismay, there was a large, pooling bruise blooming across her abdomen. She reacted in pain when he put even the slightest gentle pressure on her sides
Johnny swallowed hard. "Roy, I think she's bleeding internally..."
His partner responded with a worried expression. "That would explain the symptoms of her apparent hypovolemia. BP is 90 over 70, pulse is 115, and respiration is 35. The EKG is reading marked tachycardia."
Quickly Johnny grabbed the bio-phone. "Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?" He waited for a few seconds until the call was answered.
"Squad 51, this is Rampart." It was Dixie's voice on the return call. "We read you loud and clear."
"We have a female patient, approximately twenty-five years of age. She has a fractured tibia and appears to suffer from trauma to her abdominal region and possible internal bleeding." Johnny wiped sweat from his forehead and then repeated the vitals Roy had told him for the hospital.
"51." Dr. Early had replaced Dixie on the phone. "The patient appears to be in the third stage of hypovolemic shock. Start an IV with Ringer's Lactate, immobilise the fracture, and transport as soon as possible."
"10-4, Rampart." Johnny swallowed thickly again and then hung up the bio-phone. Roy was already in the process of starting the IV.
After quickly splinting the broken leg, Johnny stood to look out the window. He scanned the parking lot below for the ambulance and couldn't tell if it had arrived yet. Just then, his attention was taken away from the window as someone walked into the room. Johnny turned to see Sheriff's Deputy Vince Howard stride trough the doorway.
"The ambulance arrived just behind me," Vince said. "The attendants should be on their way up. What happened here?" He scratched his moustache and looked around the room with a frown darkening his features.
Johnny approached him. "It looks like a case of domestic violence," he said, also looking the scene over one more time.. The cop and the paramedic stood side-by-side and watched as the ambulance attendants arrived. They helped Roy put Dana Caldwell on a gurney.
"Doesn't it just make you sick, Vince?" Johnny asked.
Vince sighed. "Yeah."
"I've never seen anything this bad," Johnny went on. "I mean, sure—I've seen kids with back eyes and maybe a wife with a few bruises. But injuries like that? Never."
Vince gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Johnny. I'll make sure whoever's responsible doesn't get away with it."
"Good."
"Maybe you could help me?"
Johnny nodded. "Of course."
"Did you and Roy happen to talk to any witnesses?"
"Well." Johnny shrugged. "I don't know if she counts as a witness or not, but the neighbour who called us sure seemed to have a lot to say. She lives next door—229, I think."
"Thanks, Johnny." Vince shook his hand. "I'll go get her statement and then meet you guys back at the hospital. I'll need the victim's statement as soon as she can give it too."
"Right. See ya later, Vince."
And with that, the cop and the paramedic parted: Johnny off to accompany Roy and Vince off to find Ms. Roth. As Johnny followed the ambulance in the squad, he found himself dwelling on the situation until it made him just plain angry. Vince'll get the bastard that did this, he had to tell himself before pushing all his thoughts about it from his mind. Thankfully, the ride to Rampart wasn't a long one.