And even though we’re sleeping in separate beds, I can hardly blame my body for not wanting to rest. The man is distracting. Even with a wall between us, my REM cycle is like,Peace out, girlfriend. We want to focus on the beautiful specimen of a man who recently had his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin tucked into the crook of your shoulder.
It’s like, even when Collin isn’t touching me, I feel the resonance of his presence, and it has me wired.
Even though I’m exhausted, spending time with Collin is all so normal. Comfortable. Nice. I can’t wait to get home tonight. It’ll be my turn to make dinner, since Collin has to work late. Maybe I’ll try my homemade alfredo recipe for him.
I flick my gaze to the clock on my computer screen. Two more hours to freedom.
I press a button to answer the incoming call. “911 of Cashmere County, what’s the address of your emergency?”
There’s panting on the other end of the call, and I stiffen, bracing for the worst and hoping for the best.
“Is anyone there?” I say.
“Yeah, I’m here,” a strangled voice comes on the line. It’s a woman, and she’s still breathing heavily. “I need help sent to myneighborhood. I think I just heard gunshots.” She rattles off the address, and I immediately key it into my systems and generate a grid, pulling up my nearby responders.
“I want you to go somewhere safe. Are you outside?”
“N-no. I was playing with my kids in our backyard, but I scooped them up and ran inside. There’s something going on next door. I heard shouting, and then I think it was a gun. I don’t know.” Her voice wobbles. “I could be wrong. But I didn’t know what to do. So I called you.”
“You did the right thing. I’m going to get you some help.” I keep my voice measured and controlled as I gather more information from her. She gives me her name and contact information, and I’m listening to the background noise on the call. There’s a quick succession of popping.
“Did you hear that?” the woman, whose name is Jackie, asks, her voice sounding like more of a wail.
“I did.” I’m taking notes on the neighborhood for my first responders, dispatching three nearby officers, one of whom happens to be Collin. I swallow as I send him straight toward unknown danger. I don’t like the thought of it, but this is my job. I send police officers, fire fighters, and EMTs into awful situations every day. Today is no different. The only thing that has changed are my feelings for Collin, and judging by the rapid increase of my heart rate, I should probably take a good hard look at what those might be.
Not right now, though.
“I want you to stay where you are. I’ve got help on the way. Stay on the phone with me. Is there anything else you can tell me about your neighborhood? Was anyone else outside?”
“Um, not that I noticed. My husband should be home any minute, though. I don’t like the thought of him driving into some sort of gun fight.”
“Will he have a garage to pull into?”
“Yeah. It’s off the alley.”
I zoom in on the map of the neighborhood in question, watching my officers approach the scene. I pick up the radio. “There’s alley access to the property.”
The radio crackles back, and it’s Collin’s smooth, confident voice I hear in response. “Roger. ETA Squad 1, one point five minutes.”
I blow out a breath as the other officers check in with their estimated arrival times. They’re coordinating a plan for who will cover what door.
I start getting information from my caller about the people who live in the house next to hers and forward that to Collin and his fellow officers.
According to Jackie, she doesn’t know the family very well. They keep to themselves, and there are adult children who still live on the property. “One of them has a kid. Rowan is his name. He came outside this summer.”
I clue my officers in on the fact that there might be a child on the premises, and I grit my teeth. I don’t like this one bit.
Collin comes over the mic. “Central, do we have an age on the kid?”
“Stand by.”
I repeat his question to Jackie.
“Probably only three years old or so. He sometimes plays with us when we’re out. I should have tried to get to know his family more or something.”
I get back on the radio. “Approximate age of three years old. Male. Name is Rowan.”
“10-4.”
