It was a very sweet reunion, and eventually the older boy took his sister and brother in his arms, and then both parents wrapped up all their kids. Not wanting to intrude, I hopped down out of the back of the ambulance and put my hand on Ian’s shoulder.
“Good job, marshal,” I sighed, moving my hand to squeeze the back of his neck.
“Can we go back to the condo after this?”
I chuckled. “Why marshal,” I teased. “Are you tired?”
“Fuck yeah,” he grouched. “And I’d like to point out that it’s still like eighty degrees or some shit out here. I hate this crap.”
“You didn’t have to—”
“Yes, I did,” he growled. “Where you go, I go.”
“And vice versa,” I agreed, so wanting to kiss him, needing to. “You should be more careful when you’re the first one through the door.”
“I was,” he assured me. “I didn’t run into the room as soon as I kicked the door down.”
It was as good as I was going to get.
“Miro!”
I turned and Sofia was there, banging into me, arms around my waist, Oscar following, same action on the other side. Bending, I curled over both of them and rubbed their backs.
“Marshal.”
Lifting my head, I was faced with Mr. and Mrs. Guzman.
“My son says that you were the only one who stopped to help him,” Mr. Guzman said.
I had no idea what I was supposed to say to that. It was a real concern, the fact that lots of people didn’t stop to help kids anymore because they were afraid of being accused of child molestation. And as it happened, Oscar had needed help, because pedophiles were already preying on his sister.
“You have my enduring gratitude, marshal,” he said gravely, glancing over at Ian. “Both you and your partner.”
“I only wish we’d gotten there sooner,” Ian told him.
“You responded as soon as you were apprised of the situation by my son,” he said, inhaling quickly. “I could not ask for more.”
Mrs. Guzman flung herself at Ian, hugged him tight, and though surprised, he gave her a quick squeeze back before she turned and grabbed me.
Mr. Guzman offered me his hand, enfolding mine in both of his, giving me a truly heartfelt thank you before doing the same with Ian.
“Your son was very brave,” I told them. “He had to go a long way for such a little boy, had to remember where Sofia was and be out alone until he found help. He was amazing.”
“Yes,” Mr. Guzman agreed, pulling his phone from the inner breast pocket of his suit jacket. “Please, I would like both your full names and who I should contact on your behalf.”
“Oh, that’s really not necessary,” I assured him.
His eyes lifted from the screen of his phone to my face. “Oh, but it is, marshal.”
Ian coughed. “You should include Marshals Segundo and Hewitt as well,” Ian suggested. “They were our backup.”
Mr. Guzman cleared his throat. “Though my son does not yet speak English, only French in addition to Spanish and a few others thus far—”
“Thus far?” I chuckled. “Christ, what is he seven?”
“He’s six,” Mr. Guzman replied, smiling at me. “I was most recently assigned to Paris, and of course my family was with me, so my son, who has already mastered Portuguese and Italian, as well, was just beginning his English studies.”
“Holy crap, he speaks four languages already?” I was in awe. “I can barely speak English!”
Mr. Guzman chortled over that, squeezing my arm as Sofia drew away from me and went to Ian. She’d watched him throw one of the men who’d hurt her down the flight of stairs when he tried to bolt after Ian told him to walk with his fingers laced behind his head. On the ground, Ian had put his foot on the guy’s throat and asked him if he would and could follow directions from that point on. The man peed his pants when Ian pulled his gun and asked a second time. Sofia had watched the man cower before Ian, and so, in his arms, I knew, she felt safe. I was of the same mind when it was me there.
“My son,” Mr. Guzman continued, “understood that the other two marshals were not as inclined to help him as were the two of you.”
“There’s protocol we violated,” I disclosed. “And come tomorrow—we’re gonna be made to understand the scope of that, sir.”
“No,” he said quickly, squinting to try and keep his eyes from filling, the battle quickly lost. “You will not.”
I got a second handshake from him as I rubbed his son’s head.
“What is your supervisor’s name?”
I cleared my throat. “We’re actually not from Phoenix, sir. We’re from Chicago.”
“Oh,” he said, exhaling quickly. “I love Chicago. My kids particularly enjoy the Lincoln Park Zoo.”
My smile was huge. “Me and my partner live maybe two blocks from there.”