Off Chance os-5 Page 3

  They would all be thinking, There goes Flynn... off to save another soul.

  Just as I pull out of the parking deck, my phone rings. I don’t bother to look at the caller ID, just answer, “Caldwell.”

  “Hey man... it’s Buzz.”

  “What’s up, Copper? Shoot your dick off yet?”

  Buzz Matheson is a good friend of mine. He was in my cousin, Nix’s class in high school and we’ve all remained in touch throughout the years. He’s currently working in the Narcotics division for the NYPD.

  “Luckily, it’s still attached. Burn yours off in a fire yet?”

  Chuckling, I tell him, “Nah... all my parts are in working order.”

  “Listen... I just pulled a case that you’re involved in and we need to talk.”

  “The fire this afternoon?”

  “Yeah. I understand you pulled a woman out that was chained to a bed.”

  Visions of her lying there unconscious swim through my head, causing my stomach to turn. It appears that maybe she was into some deep trouble, just as I’d suspected.

  “Yeah. I found her there with a metal cuff around her ankle. She was naked and my best guess is she was drugged.”

  Buzz curses into the phone. “I’m going to need a formal interview from you. I’m on my way to the hospital now to talk to Miss Page. I’ve been told she’s trying to check herself out against doctor’s advice and I need to catch her before she disappears. Think you can meet me over there and I can get your statement after?”

  Miss Page? So that’s one more part of the mystery unveiled.

  “Sure. I’ll head that way now. But why do you have this case? Shouldn’t it be with someone that investigates kidnapping or arson or something?”

  “It is but I’m coming on to assist. I’ve been tracking Miss Page’s boyfriend, who is a mid-level drug dealer, and she could be my best lead in busting him. If I can get him, then he can flip the larger ring.”

  So, the drugged and chained Miss Page has a boyfriend? I wonder if he’ll be at the hospital to take care of her? Probably not as I imagine he’s lying low if he knows he’s on the cops’ radars.

  “I’ll head that way now and meet you over there.”

  “Sounds great,” is all I hear before Buzz disconnects.

  Unfortunately, the search for the shaggy beast is going to have to wait a bit more. A different kind of duty calls.

  As I walk down the hall to Miss Page’s room, I can hear angry voices that get louder as I approach. Buzz had texted me her room number with a cryptic “could use your help” message after it.

  I turn the corner and see her room ahead. The door is open and Buzz is standing just inside, talking to someone else that I can’t see. But I can sure as hell hear her, and I can only assume it’s Miss Page.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what your hospital policy is. I’m leaving and you can’t make me stay. And you... I’m not talking to you either. Just leave me the hell alone.”

  Stepping into the room behind Buzz, I immediately take in the scene. The woman I pulled out of the fire is standing on the other side of her bed, wearing a hospital dressing gown. Her skin is pale and her stringy, dark hair comes down to barely brush the tops of her shoulders. She looks tired and wan, but those gray eyes are spitting fire right now.

  It’s clear that she’s been through an ordeal, and I get the immediate impression she hasn’t been allowed to bathe, or even possibly eat, in days. But none of that can hide the fact that she has a delicate beauty about her. Her cheekbones are high, her nose is slender and straight, and her lips are generously full. Even her exhaustion can’t cover that up, and I find my interest in her exponentially grow now that I’ve gotten a good look at her.

  There’s a nurse standing on the other side of the bed and she looks just as pissed as the lovely Miss Page. Poor Buzz is standing there with his hands in his pockets and his face turned to the ceiling in a look of total frustration.

  I knock softly on the doorframe to announce my presence. “What’s going on?”

  The room erupts all at once and I hear:

  “Who the fuck are you?” from Miss Page.

  “She can’t just walk out of the hospital... we have protocols to follow,” from the pissed-off nurse.

  “She’s refusing to give me a formal statement,” from Buzz..

  This situation is about one second away from all hell breaking loose, so I step forward and put on my best Caldwell charm.

  “Miss Page? My name is Flynn Caldwell. I’m the fireman that pulled you out of the house. Pulled your dog out, too. Remember?”

  She nods her head slightly but I can tell she doesn’t really recognize me.

  I continue, “I came here to talk about your dog... that is your dog, right?”

  She doesn’t answer me but starts to chew on her bottom lip in a sure sign of worry. Turning to the nurse and Buzz, I say, “How about you give me a few minutes alone with her, okay?”

  The look I give Buzz is one he recognizes... she needs to be calmed down and this is apparently the most calm he’s seen her since he’s arrived so he’s willing to let me have a try.

  The nurse and Buzz leave the room, shutting the door behind them.

  “Mind if I sit down?” I ask, but I don’t wait for an answer. I move over to the only chair in the room and take a seat.

  “Where’s Capone?”

  I point to the bed. “How about you take a seat before you fall over and I’ll tell you everything I know. That’s one brave dog you have there. So what’s your first name?”

  She looks like she’s going to balk for a second but then she sits on the edge and turns her body to me. I can tell she’s still a bit woozy from whatever drugs were in her system and the fight seems to have gone out of her. “It’s Rowan. Do you have him? Is he okay?”

  “I don’t but I was on my way to go look for him when I got a call from Detective Matheson that he needed to interview me since I’m the one that found you. So I had to come here first.”

  “Oh God... I can’t believe he’s out there on his own. I have to go and find him.”

  She bolts up from the bed and starts for the door. Jumping up from my chair, I gently grab her shoulders and stop her. She’s so tiny—I feel like I can snap the bones in her shoulders with just a firm grip.

  “Wait just a minute. I’ll help you find him, I swear, but you literally cannot waltz out of here in that hospital gown. We need to get you some clothes first, and then we can go.”

  I can see her calm just a bit.

  “You’ll help me? Why?” She sounds utterly perplexed that I would even offer her help but before I can respond, she says, “Never mind. I don’t need your help. I can find him myself.”

  She pushes out of my grip with surprising strength and throws the door open. The nurse and Buzz are standing there.

  Looking first at Buzz, she says, “You can just leave... I’m not talking to you.” She then turns to the nurse. “Get me a pair of surgical scrubs or something I can wear. I’m leaving.”

  The nurse huffs and turns away. “I have paperwork I have to do to let you out of here and a doctor has to sign off. I’ll find something for you to wear but I have to get the paperwork ready.”

  “Fine,” Rowan snaps, “just hurry.”

  She walks back to the bed and slumps down on it. I can tell she’s exhausted and if the dryness of her lips is any indication, I’m thinking she’s dehydrated. I pour her a cup of water from the pitcher beside her bed and hand it to her. “Drink this... you need liquids.”

  She takes the cup and sips at it, staring stonily at her feet.

  Buzz has followed us back into the room. “Miss Page... I don’t understand why you won’t talk to me. I just want to know who did this to you so we can bring him or her to justice.”

  Very smooth the way Buzz said “him” or “her”, especially when I know he already believes it to be a “him”. But he wants to make her at ease to talk about her boyfriend I’m sure.

&nb
sp; She doesn’t respond but takes another sip of the water. Buzz apparently takes that as a sign he should continue talking.

  “Miss Page... Rowan... I know the house you were in was being rented by your boyfriend.” Buzz pulls out his notepad and makes a big deal of flipping through the pages to consult his notes. But I know this is for show... he knows damn well what her boyfriend’s name is.

  “Yeah... got it right here.” He points to the pad. “Like I said, the house you were found in was rented by Mr. Teddy Jones. He goes by “Juice” I believe. That’s your boyfriend, right?”

  She still doesn’t respond but dutifully takes another sip of water. I notice her cheeks get slightly red at the mention of her boyfriend’s name.

  Buzz goes in for the kill. “Did he chain you to that bed, Rowan? Drug you? Did he rape you? Was he trying to kill you... and that’s why he set the fire?”

  Rowan’s head jerks up at those last words and there is fear in her eyes. I think she’s getting ready to spill the beans but the only thing she says is, “He’s not my boyfriend, hasn’t been for a while.”

  “Then did he kidnap you? You have to open up to me so we can get you justice.”

  I think that’s a pretty good line, and I’m pretty sure Buzz has said the one thing that will get her to open up.

  Wrong!

  Rowan’s eyes narrow and she actually sneers, her upper lip curling slightly on the right side. “Justice? You’re kidding me, right? When has a cop ever worried about someone like me? You’re not fooling me. I smell narcotics all over you. You only want me to help you bust Juice so you can get some fucking meritorious commendation or something. Tell me I’m wrong!”

  I have to clamp down hard on my tongue so I don’t start laughing. This girl is no dummy. In fact, I’d say she’s smart as hell and she neatly put Buzz in his place.

  Glancing at Buzz, I can tell he’s admitting defeat for today now that she’s made him. He pulls his card out of his pocket and hands it to her. “If you change your mind, call me. I can offer you protection against him in exchange for your cooperation.”

  Turning toward the door, Buzz motions me. “Come on, Flynn. Might as well get your statement now.”

  I follow him to the door and say in a low voice, “Let’s reschedule, man. I’m going to help her find her dog, and maybe she’ll open up to me.”

  Buzz raises his eyebrows at me but doesn’t say anything. He just nods and heads down the hall.

  Turning, I step back into the room and shut the door. Rowan looks up at me in surprise, the cup of water tilted halfway to her mouth.

  “Now, let’s spring you out of here and go find that dog of yours.”

  3

  Fucking cop! I knew he was here only for Juice. No way they’d ever really give a damn about a naked and drugged girl chained to a bed that was almost roasted alive.

  The door shuts and I look up to see the fireman standing there. The unbelievably gorgeous fireman.

  What a cliché.

  “Now, let’s spring you out of here and go find that dog of yours.”

  “I told you, I don’t need your help, so you might as well turn around and march out of here, too.”

  “Well, tough shit... I’m going to help find your dog whether you like it or not. And it will get done a lot faster if we work with each other rather than against each other.”

  I’m momentarily shocked over his words and I give him another once-over. I’m suspicious of his offer of help, because... well, hey... I’m suspicious of all authority figures. I’d learned that long before I ever got messed up with Juice.

  But his gaze tells me the offer is genuine and I take a moment to check him out a bit closer. First of all, he’s a pretty big guy... probably a good foot taller than my five-three height. He’s also stacked with muscle and I still have enough of my wits about me to notice that he has a face that would make most women fall over in a dead faint if he smiled at them.

  It’s the eyes.

  Definitely the eyes. Lashes so thick you would think they were painted on the border of the lightest pair of hazel irises I’ve ever seen. His dark brown hair, which he wears fairly short, only makes his eyes pop that much more. When he smiles, I notice he has a dimple on the left side of his mouth, but not on the right.

  “So what do you say?” he asks, bringing me out of my perusal of his hotness.

  Shaking my head, because the last thing I need to be thinking about is how gorgeous this guy is, I stand from the bed. “If you think that I’m going to spill my dirty secrets to you so you can run off and tell your cop friend, forget about it.”

  Flynn holds his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “I could care less about that. I just want to help you find your dog, and then you can be on your way. Deal?”

  My skeptical nature looks hard for the lie, but I can’t find it. And I’m a pretty good judge of character. For example, I knew Juice was bad news and trouble from the get-go. But just because I’m a good judge of character doesn’t mean I make smart decisions with my knowledge.

  Still... he’s offering me a way to find Capone and that dog is literally the only thing I have in the world right now. I don’t even have any clothes and I have nowhere to live right now, but I figure Capone and I can huddle up together tonight until I figure something out.

  “Okay... if you can manage to get me some scrubs to wear and if that beast of a nurse will get my papers ready, we can go.”

  He shoots me a one-dimpled smile and turns toward the door. “I’m on it. I’ll have you out of here in thirty minutes.”

  Flynn drives us back to Juice’s house and he pulls up to the curb. He had tried to engage me in conversation on the way over but after a few grunted answers, he gave up. Opening the car door, he steps out and I do the same.

  “You come get in my car and start driving up and down the streets looking for him. I’ll go by foot. We’ll be able to cover more ground that way. Let’s meet back here in twenty minutes to check in.”

  I just stare at him for a moment before my tongue works. “You want me to take your car? I’m a perfect stranger... someone who used to shack up with a known drug dealer. You’re really going to trust me with your car?”

  Flynn shrugs his shoulders. “Well, it’s not like you can walk around looking for him. You don’t even have any shoes.”

  Glancing down at my feet, it hits me harder than ever before that I truly have nothing except for a slightly too large set of blue surgical scrubs. Tears threaten to break free of my eyeballs but I curse them viciously until they retreat.

  I look up at Flynn and shoot him a bitter smile. “Sure thing. Your loss if I decide to just up and steal your car.”

  Walking by him to get in the driver’s seat, he reaches out and touches my arm. He doesn’t grab it, but just places his fingertips on my forearm. I stop at the silent command.

  “You won’t steal it. Want to know how I know that?” His voice is low and soft, and I have to admit... it’s damn sexy.

  Swallowing hard, I reply, “I’ll play—how do you know that?”

  “Because that damn dog is more important than anything in the world to you, and you’re going to do everything in your power to find him. That includes using me to help you find him. No way you’re about to take off with my car and leave Capone out here to fend for himself.”

  He has me pegged. To a tee.

  Big whoop. He still doesn’t know shit about me. “Great job, Sherlock. You got me. Now let’s get to work if you don’t mind.”

  Stepping past him, I climb into the driver’s seat and adjust it forward so I can reach the pedals. I don’t bother telling him I don’t have a license, nor that I’ve only driven a handful of times. No sense in worrying him.

  Putting the car in gear, I drive away, glancing once in the rearview mirror at him. He’s already turned his back on me and is trotting across the street, before disappearing into a neighbor’s yard.

  I methodically drive up and down each street with the windows rolled
down. Every few minutes, I yell Capone’s name. I also yell out other words he’ll recognize like, “treat” or “ball”. As soon as I call out for him, I look frantically, left and right, expecting him to come bounding out from behind some bushes.

  I’m disappointed time and time again.

  As the minutes tick by, I’m starting to get panicked. What if he’s been stolen? Or killed? Or what if he’s hurt and can’t come to me?

  I can’t lose that dog... not now. Not after everything that he’s been through with me. And there’s no way I’m ever letting Juice get him back. He only wanted Capone because of his pedigree and because he’s a beautiful dog. It was a way for him to show off to his druggie friends that he could afford a two-thousand dollar Bernese Mountain Dog shipped to him all the way from Colorado.

  Once the puppy arrived, just over a year ago, Juice promptly named him Capone and then forgot about him. Which was fine by me. I was the one that raised Capone. I potty trained him, taught him how to sit, lie down, and to heel when we walked in the neighborhood. He was smart as a whip and we adored each other. He would sleep in bed with me at night, until Juice would come in and yell at him to get off.

  Capone hated Juice and the feeling soon became mutual when Juice realized Capone was completely and utterly attached to me. He wouldn’t do a damn thing that Juice asked of him and it would piss Juice off that he would do anything that I asked.

  Once, Juice yelled at Capone for a solid fifteen minutes because he refused to sit for him. After he slammed out of the house in anger, I watched in amazement as Capone calmly walked into the bedroom and peed in one of Juice’s tennis shoes. Of course, I had to clean it up before Juice got home, because he would have beat Capone if he knew he did that. I tried to chastise the furry monster but I ended up giggling every time I tried to say, “Bad dog” to him. It remained our little secret.

  Turning back down the street where Juice lived, I can feel my throat starting to get tight. The burned-out husk of a house is just a block away.