Quadruplets Make Six
Page 125
“Aren’t you a nurse?” She giggled.
“Yeah. But I like the practical part of my job. I never liked the exams it took to get here. What do you want to do?” I asked. There were still no customers coming in line.
“Pediatrics. I just took my MCAT, so who knows how that went.” She laughed nervously.
“Oh, well I’m sure you did great. If you need any shadowing or volunteer work, I have good contacts in the hospital.”
“Really? Thank you, that would be great.”
I stepped to the side to wait for my drink. Parker was very well behaved; he sat on his hind legs and barely blinked. My dad helped me train him…my throat closed at the memory and I pushed it aside.
My chai tea was ready, so I set off with one last wave to Sam, and headed for my usual trail. All part of the routine, I thought.
Chapter Two: Rose
I was at my favorite part of the trail. Where the road ended and curved off into a slight bend into the back side of a park. It was always quiet, peaceful, and beautiful. The trees bent over a certain part of the path like a canopy, and the leaves were changing with the fall season. Usually, nothing in New York was that pretty. But, I lucked out with where I chose to live, and it was a twenty-minute walk or a ten-minute run from that neighborhood park. This time I decided to walk, and was only in jeans and a tee shirt.
Parker suddenly went crazy as we passed the dip in the path that led towards under the bridge, and he pulled me along as he barked like a bat out of hell.
“Easy, boy!” I nearly tripped as my Converses hit a little rock trying to keep up with him.
I tightened the lease and curled it around my hand quickly and followed him. He barked and barked, then suddenly stopped. I turned down the path and peered at what he could have possibly gone this crazy for.
I nearly screamed.
I don’t know how long I stood there. A minute, maybe only twenty seconds, but it was long enough for me to see everything and remember it against my will. I had a photographic memory. It came in handy when I had twenty seconds to memorize an entire chart or a list of symptoms. Or times like this when I was obviously interrupting a heinous crime.
The man in a sharp navy-blue hoodie was huge; I would be scared if he was simply walking down the street. He was even dressed like he planned to commit a crime, with his hood up and his pants dark. He could almost blend in with the wall. I barely noticed the other guy. Just the screaming, all words that I couldn’t even pick out no matter how hard I may try to.
The heated argument and the angry flash of shiny metal was burned into my brain even as I turned the corner and ran and ran until I felt I was far enough away. Parker was well trained enough for me to let him go, and I quickly got my phone from my cross-body purse and called 911 immediately.
Maybe it was a slight disagreement between friends. Or a drug deal gone wrong. I would never know the truth, I just knew a man in a navy hoodie was waving gun at a smaller man, and that was exactly what I told the police. I thought briefly that I should mind my own business before he came after me for interrupting him, or stopping me from calling the police if he suspected me to. But it was literally in my blood and how I was trained—to help people. To do something, anything, if I was needed to.
Whatever I had seen, that other man obviously needed help.
“What is your exact location, ma’am?”
The voice was calm and monotone, like she did that kind of thing every hour. I tried to give her the best location I could, but it wasn’t exact. When the call ended, I think I breathed for the first time since Parker set off in that direction.
Parker wasn’t just any normal dog. And I don’t say
that because I was some enthusiastic dog owner, I say that because he really wasn’t. He was trained for the worst of all places, the battlefield. Alongside my father. Only one of them made it back.
“Good job, boy. Let’s hope we didn’t get ourselves into worse trouble, eh?”
I rub behind his ears, his favorite spot that makes his tail wag and his nose scrunch. I smiled, even though my nerves were shot, and my heart wouldn’t stop palpitating. He was a comfort animal just as much as he was a service dog. He buried his muzzle into my neck and got a few licks on my face before I started laughing.
I was told I didn’t have to wait for the officers to come to the scene. Hearing a gunshot made me hightail it out of there fast, and I had no idea what happened before I left.
By the time I got home, I was glad I did.
Chapter Three: Alex
“You’ve done good, Jordan.”
“Thank you, sir.” I stared back at my commanding officer and tried to fight a smug smile.
I worked hard for this. The badge in my hand was the physical proof of all my hard work over the past few years. I started at the very bottom of the precinct, and now I was a detective. It was surreal. But it was damn well earned.