Silent Witness

The operator answered before the first ring finished.

“Courage Bay Fire Department. Please state the nature of your emergency.”

“Dispatch, this is Andrea Hunt, PRS, Squad One. I’m 10-7 but I need a unit for a 902 at 1425 Ocean View Drive, Code 3. I have a six-year-old juvenile down, possible broken ankle, possible internal injuries and one…adult…uh…926.”

She stuttered over the radio jargon she’d rattled off countless times, the numbers stalling in her head, cold and harsh. Her big sister and 926, the code for a fatality. They shouldn’t go together.

“Ten-twelve, Officer, while I call for unit.”

Andrea stood by as the dispatcher instructed. She didn’t want to look at Vicki again, but she couldn’t help herself. The light had shifted and she could see more of her sister’s face. It was untouched and exquisitely made up. Andrea guessed the accident had happened earlier that morning, but with Vicki, she couldn’t be sure. All her life, her sister had kept her makeup fresh and perfect, looking as good at midnight as she did first thing in the day.

The operator’s voice pulled Andrea back. “Units en route, Code 3 per your request.”

“Ten-four.” Andrea acknowledged the information then she closed the phone. Before she could decide what to do next, it rang. She answered instantly, an illogical fear swamping her that the noise might somehow cause the armoire to shift.

She answered, her voice shaky. “Hunt speaking.”

“Andie, it’s Alex! We caught the call and we’re on the way. What the hell’s going on? Isn’t 1425 your parents’ old place?”

Alex Shields was the captain of the other rescue squad and a close friend as well. Hearing his voice fueled a rush of relief—unfortunately it also made everything more real.

“It is their house,” she said thickly. “I came over to help my sister unpack. She moved in yesterday, but when I got here, she didn’t come to the door. I went inside and found…found my grandmother’s armoire had fallen over. They’re…they’re trapped beneath it, Alex. Vicki and her son, Kevin.”

“Oh, shit…” Over his curse, she could hear the sirens. “Andie…sweetheart…which one’s the 926?”

“She is.” Andrea swallowed hard then went on. “Kevin is right beside her with both his legs stuck. I hope you’ve got a full crew. We’re going to need it to lift this thing, then we have to get him to the hospital, full code.”

“I’m bringing everyone, don’t worry. Our ETA is five minutes, maybe less. Hang on, we’ll be right there.”

She hit the end key and looked over at her nephew. He had grown even paler. Holding her breath, Andrea scooted as close as she could. Her fingertips brushed his sleeve but he didn’t respond when she called his name. She continued to try and rouse him even though she had the feeling it was pointless.

After a few minutes, he blinked and stared right at her. There were questions in his gaze…but they stayed where they were and remained unspoken.

WHEN SHE HEARD the sirens drawing near, a mix of relief and anxiety washed over Andrea. Courage Bay was not a large town. By this time, everyone at the Bar and Grill probably knew what had happened and it would be only a matter of time until her parents heard, too. She didn’t want them learning the news of their daughter’s death from a stranger but she couldn’t call them now. Her phone had died a second after she had talked to Alex, the tumble from her waist apparently taking its toll.

She considered what their grief would be like, then she pushed the thought away. Getting Kevin out took precedence over everything else, including anyone’s sorrow.

Outside the siren grew louder and louder then ended abruptly, leaving only the rumble of the ladder truck’s engine. When it shut down, a swell of men’s voices replaced the momentary silence, Alex’s deep baritone ringing out above the others. He was in charge of an engine crew of four, a ladder truck crew of five, and the other paramedic rescue squad, which had two members. He was also responsible for all their air rescues. It sounded as if he’d brought every person under his command. The only thing she didn’t hear was the chopper.

Within minutes, they were on the front porch, Alex calling out for her.

“Break down the door,” she cried. “I’m in the living room.”

She gave the motionless Kevin another look, then eased up to stand against the wall. When the team entered and took in the situation, Andrea watched their expressions go from surprise to horror to determination. The Courage Bay Fire Department was comprised of professionals—they could handle anything and everything—but this was clearly something they hadn’t seen before.

With a stunned expression, Rhonda Sutton, Andrea’s partner in the ambulance they operated, lifted her eyes to Andrea’s and slowly shook her head, her dark gaze filling with tears. A tall brunette with six men always at her feet, Rhonda had a reputation for being tough, but Andrea had seen underneath the facade. Rhonda cared deeply about their patients…and even more so for her friends.

Alex put the team into action, Andrea alerting them to Kevin’s location as they planned how best to lift the broken cabinet. It seemed to take forever but in reality, only a few moments passed before they uncovered the little boy. He stared at the faces peering over him, his frightened eyes darting from the men to Andrea, then back again.

Finally able to get close, Andrea took Kevin’s fingers in hers and started to reassure him, but then she found herself distracted. One of the men had brought in a blanket to cover Vicki. When he placed it gently over the still form of her sister, Andrea had to force her gaze back to Kevin’s.

“It’s okay, baby. These…these are the firemen who work in Courage Bay,” she said. “They’re here to help us.”

Tightly gripping her hand, Kevin maintained his silence while they collared his neck and slipped the plastic backboard underneath him.

“You’re very brave.” Andrea walked beside the boy as they carried him out the front door. “I’m proud of you, Kevin. You’re doing a great job!”

With smooth movements they’d made a thousand times, the men loaded the six-year-old into the ambulance and secured the stretcher. Andrea climbed inside and kneeled down. “I’ll be right behind you in my truck, okay? When you get to the hospital, I’ll help them take you out. You aren’t scared, are you?”

He blinked then slowly shook his head. Brushing back a lock of his hair, she kissed his forehead, her throat stinging with tears she quickly swallowed. “That’s great because you have nothing to be afraid of, nothing at all. Five minutes and we’ll be there, all right?” She jumped out and started to close the double doors. A heartbeat before they slammed shut, she thought she heard him say a single word, but she hoped she was mistaken.

She had no idea how to answer when a child cried out for his mother.

GRANT PEELED HIMSELF off the leather seat of his white Impala and kicked the door shut behind him. Crossing the steaming street toward Hollenbeck Park, he lifted his sunglasses and blew his hair off his forehead. The heat was suffocating and had been for days. Demanding his attention like a dog that wouldn’t stop barking, the sun beat insistently down against his neck, making it impossible to ignore. The jacket he’d had on was long gone, shed in the car somewhere between Highway 101 and South Soto.

He took a quick glance around the park as he stepped over the curb. He hadn’t thought to ask Parker where to meet him, but he realized now directions would have been superfluous. A crowd had already gathered at the South Boyle Avenue end of the green area, the usual mixture of old ladies, out-of-work men and kids who had nothing better to do. Grant named them derisively under his breath. They were ghouls, each and every one of them.

If there was a body around, they always showed up.

Having been warned more than once, Grant kept his insensitive label to himself and silently approached the group, removing his notepad and pencil as he walked. A sheet was over the body but the medical examiner lifted it as Grant reached his side. The face beneath the plastic was young. Too young to be so dead.

Standing nearby, Parker wiped his forehead. In his younger years, he’d been a full-back at UCLA. Now he was just plain fat, two-fifty if not more. The crazy heat wave they were having was about to do him in. He waved his hand toward the body. “You know him?”

Grant started to say no, then he kneeled and looked closer. “Yeah,” he said. “I do know him. That’s Tasha McKindrick’s boy. I think they call him Poppy.”

Parker yelled for one of the uniforms while Grant continued to stare. The boy couldn’t have been over ten because his mother was only twenty-four. Grant had arrested her last year for selling drugs. They lived in one of the nearby projects with two younger children but no dad. Grant pulled the cover back over the boy’s face and stood.

His stare lingering on the draped form at his feet, he thought of Kevin.

“What are we doing to our kids?” he muttered under his breath. “For God’s sake, what in the hell are we doing?”

“What are you doing talking to yourself again? You promised me you’d given that up.”

Grant raised his eyes to the woman who’d walked up beside him, her husky voice penetrating the gloomy fog of his thoughts. He hadn’t heard her approach, but that’s how Holly Hitchens did things. She snuck up on you, then pounced. They’d dated before he’d married Vicki and he had the scars to prove it. She was a hell of a cop, though.

“I make a lot of promises I don’t keep.” His eyes met hers and he shrugged. “You know how that goes….”

“I’m afraid I do. You always were lousy in that department, Corbin.” Her answer was pure Holly but her voice sounded strained. Then he realized she wasn’t looking him in the eye. Her gaze was usually so direct it hurt.

“What’s up?” He made his voice casual and ignored the warning bells going off inside his head.

She took a deep breath and met his eyes. For a second he thought he saw pity in her gaze but that didn’t make sense.

“I have some bad news, Grant.”

Her use of his first name threw him even more. She’d always called him Corbin, even when they’d been lovers.

He tensed and she spoke again.

“Division just called looking for you and I told them you were here. They gave me a message to pass on. It’s not good.”

“What is it?” he asked levelly.

“Something’s happened to Vicki. She…had some kind of accident down in Courage Bay.”

“A car wreck?”

“No, it happened at her home, but I don’t have any more details.”

“But she didn’t live in Courage Bay—”

“That’s all they said. That she’d been there, in her house, and something fell on her.”

“Is she okay?”

“No, Grant, she’s not okay.” Holly put her fingers on his sleeve. “I’m sorry, but she’s dead.”

Grant stared dumbly at the redhead, her words incomprehensible. Then something snapped in his hand. He looked down and opened his fist. The pencil he’d been holding was in two pieces.

Holly squeezed his arm. “There’s more.”

As a cop, he’d seen things that would test the strongest stomach but Grant had never been affected. When Holly spoke, though, the ground beneath him shifted.

“Kevin?” he managed to get out.

“He was hurt, too. He’s in the hospital at Courage Bay. They said he’s not injured too seriously but—”

Grant didn’t hear the rest. He was already running for his car.

ANDREA DECIDED her guardian angel must be working overtime. First, when she’d dashed back inside the house, she’d found Vicki’s address book in the kitchen and had been able to contact Grant Corbin’s office. Now, speeding to catch up with the ambulance, it seemed her luck was holding. Using the mobile phone she’d borrowed from Alex, Andrea released a sigh of relief when her father answered. Nine times out of ten, her mother was the one who picked up first, and Andrea wouldn’t have been able to give her the news.

A retired Navy man, Jack Hunt was the rock of the family. The rest of them, including Karen, Andrea and Vicki’s mother, depended on him. He started speaking before Andrea could say anything.

“Your mother’s out shopping again,” he said. “I swear, Andrea, I think she’s determined to spend every dime I make! As far as an inheritance goes, forget about it. I know you won’t need any help, but Vicki’s another story. She’s never been able to hold down a decent job and—”

“Dad… Dad, hold up for a minute, okay? I…I need to talk to you.”

He fell silent and Andrea told him what had happened. By the time she finished, she was crying, but he reacted as she’d expected. Stoic and in control. Only his voice gave him away and no one other than Andrea would have caught that.

“I’ll find your mother,” he said hollowly. “We’ll meet you at the hospital as soon as we can.”

“We’re pulling in right now,” she said. “Look for me in the emergency room.”

Tossing the phone aside, she parked her Jeep and jumped out. Just as she reached the entrance, the ambulance driver wheeled Kevin’s gurney through the E.R. doors at full speed. One of the trauma nurses, Jackie Kellison, ran to meet them, the newest E.R. resident, Amy Sherwood, right beside her.

Andrea explained the accident as the nurse and doctor rolled the child into one of the examining rooms. Without his mother or father present, Andrea had no legal basis to sign for his care but in Courage Bay, lives counted more than the rules.

“Tell me where it hurts, Kevin.” Dr. Sherwood pressed her fingers against his belly while glancing down at his leg. When he didn’t answer, she looked at him and repeated her question. When he still said nothing, she looked at Andrea.

“He’s got some…communication issues.” Andrea searched her rattled brain for the term Vicki had used and finally came up with it. “His mother said the condition’s called ‘selective mutism.’”

The resident nodded once, then without missing a step, continued her examination, talking to Kevin all the while as if she fully expected him to answer.

She was still poking and prodding when Andrea’s parents bustled into the room.

Karen Hunt’s slim figure and blond highlights usually hid her real age of sixty, but the news of Vicki’s accident had added years. Her eyes were frantic and wild, her face pale and lined. Even her clothing was disheveled—she’d clearly changed before they’d rushed to the hospital and her blouse was misbuttoned.

She caught Andrea’s eye and shook her head minutely, a silent understanding passing between mother and daughter. This wasn’t the place for them to cry and console each other. Not in front of Kevin. For his sake, they had to stay in control of themselves. Nothing meant more than him right now, including their own grief.

Andrea acknowledged the message then moved away from the bed so they could get closer. Her mother grabbed Kevin’s fingers and began to talk to him softly, Jack Hunt going to the other side of the bed to place a beefy hand on the child’s shoulder.

Andrea slipped into the corridor, leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

GRANT COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time he’d been to Courage Bay. Speeding south from L.A., the Impala pushed to its limit, all he could think about were the times he hadn’t come.

The Hunts’ twentieth anniversary. Christmas two years ago. Vicki’s birthday the first year they’d been married.

She had wanted to visit Courage Bay more often, but each time they’d tried, his job had seemed to interfere. Vicki hadn’t bought his explanation that murderers didn’t take off on holidays. She’d accused him of manufacturing excuses, saying he didn’t want to go with her because he hated her family.

She’d been half right. Sometimes he had used work as an excuse, but not the way she thought.

His problem was actually the opposite of her complaint. He loved Karen and Jack Hunt but in the L.A. world he’d come to consider his own, people like them just didn’t exist. Years of working Vice and now Homicide had made him forget how to act around moral and sane individuals. The only way he could deal with the situation seemed to be by avoiding them.

Then there was Andrea. Vicki’s little sister.

The first time he’d met her, he’d been shocked. He’d never seen two individuals, including twins, who resembled each other so strongly.

A striking woman with thick honey-colored hair and dark-blue eyes, Vicki had brought the JP’s office to a standstill the day they had walked in to get married. Grant had felt eyes on him, too, everyone wondering why in the hell someone like her would be marrying someone like him. Andrea shared that beauty but there was more to her than there had been to Vicki, something deeper, something darker.

After he’d gotten to know her a bit, Grant had relaxed enough to hold a decent conversation with Andrea, but he’d always found himself wondering if she’d feel the same, kiss the same, make love the same…as Vicki. He knew his disquiet came from somewhere other than just the uncanny resemblance the two women shared yet he hadn’t wanted to examine his reactions too closely. He had been married to Vicki, after all.

In the end, he had let his wife visit her family alone. They had all been so happy to see Kevin, no one had really noticed his father was absent and that had been fine with Grant.

He gripped the steering wheel and prayed the little boy would be okay. Kids had never figured much in Grant’s life until Kevin had been born, then he’d begun to understand what all the fuss was about. Despite the circumstances, Grant couldn’t have possibly loved Kevin any more than he already did—it had damn near killed him when they’d packed up and left.

Kevin had been four, almost five, at that point. Grant shook his head. Where had the time gone? He and Vicki had been divorced a bit more than a year and Grant hadn’t seen Kevin once during that time. Would he even remember who Grant was? Would he still throw his arms around Grant’s neck and hug him tight?

Grant had expected little from his marriage, and he hadn’t been disappointed. He’d known the score from the very beginning, however, and he had no right to complain. Vicki could have had any man on the planet yet she’d picked him. He still didn’t know why but he no longer cared, either. Kevin was all that mattered.

Reaching the outskirts of Courage Bay, Grant realized that his love for Kevin was all he had left. With sudden resolve, he promised himself he’d take care of this once and for all. He’d be the kind of father the little boy deserved.

And that was a promise Grant Corbin would keep.

CHAPTER THREE

ANDREA’S MOTHER AND FATHER stood by the edge of Kevin’s gurney while his doctor and the hospital’s orthopedic surgeon discussed his situation. At the foot of the bed, Andrea listened, as well. The two physicians came to a consensus quickly. An operation might be necessary, but it would be simple and straightforward, a matter of aligning Kevin’s bones. Pending the outcome of the X rays, they might even be able to avoid surgery completely.

The radiation technician came to take the child for his tests and Jack leaned over his grandson. “I think I’ll come along with you, big guy,” he said. “If you don’t care, I’d like to see how they do this.”

Kevin blinked twice and his expression cleared. He couldn’t have spoken and made his relief more known.

Andrea watched them leave, her mother at her side.

“We might as well go to the cafeteria and get something to eat,” Andrea said. “He’ll be in X ray for a while. I’ll tell the nurses where we are and they can come get us.”

Taking off the mask of cheerfulness she’d put in place for Kevin’s sake, Andrea’s mother let her features collapse into the shell-shocked expression she’d worn earlier. She held up her hand at Andrea’s suggestion and shook her head. “No. No food. I don’t want anything to eat. I want a cigarette.”

Karen Hunt hadn’t smoked in ten years. Andrea opened her mouth to protest but she swallowed her words. They all needed whatever help they could get, wherever they could find it.

They walked across the street to a convenience store and bought a package of cigarettes, returning a few minutes later to the benches near the ambulance bay doors. Her mother lit up while Andrea sat in silence.

Karen Hunt smoked with determination, repeatedly drawing on the cigarette until she started to cough. After a bit, she dropped the butt, ground it beneath her heel, then looked at Andrea. There was steel in her voice. “Tell me what happened. And I want the truth.”

Andrea gave her mother as many details as she could remember. “I didn’t have time to check before we left,” she said as she finished, “but I think Vicki was probably trying to anchor the armoire to the wall and that’s when it went over. It always was unstable and top-heavy.”

Her grief segued into anger and she hit the bench with her fists. “I told Vicki it was silly to cart that damn thing all around the state. She should have left it—”

Her mother, revealing a strength that surprised Andrea, reached out and covered Andrea’s clenched hands. “Drop it, Andrea. The reason the armoire fell over isn’t important. What matters is that…” She paused and drew a shaky breath. “What matters is that Vicki is gone. What she’d want us to do now is take care of Kevin. That’s what we have to concentrate on. Kevin.”

Andrea struggled to pull herself together. The effort took the last of her energy. “You’re right,” she said. “You’re right…. In fact, Kevin’s the first thing she mentioned when I called and offered to help her unpack. She said she’d take the help, but she needed advice regarding him more than she needed anything else.”

Her mother nodded. “About his silence?”

Andrea stared at her mother in surprise. “You knew?”

“Vicki told me of the problem several months back. I advised her to talk to a therapist.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Vicki asked me not to say anything.” Her mother wrapped both hands around her package of cigarettes, then looked into the distance. “She was upset. She felt it was her fault for being a bad mother and said you’d never have a problem so lame and she didn’t want you to know. I guess her concern for Kevin finally overran her embarrassment and that’s why she told you.”

Andrea felt her mouth drop open. “But Vicki was a good mother! And I would never have said anything regardless of—”

Karen Hunt held up her hand. “I know that and you know that, but Vicki didn’t. She was very insecure, Andrea. She always looked up to you. She thought you were perfect.”

“Perfect? Me? Oh, God…” Andrea buried her face in her hands. “Why on earth would she think that?”

“Mrs. Hunt?”

A voice broke through Andrea’s anguish. She looked up to see a woman from the front office approach her mother with an outstretched hand.

“I’m Wendy from Intake. We need some information about Kevin and since his father isn’t here yet and his mother…is gone, I need your help. If you could come with me…?”

Andrea’s mother jumped up from the bench and followed the woman back inside. Feeling numb and empty, Andrea sat quietly, the thought of Vicki fretting over her so-called “perfection” too much to even comprehend. The idea was ridiculous.

Andrea was far from perfect. Very, very far.

GRANT HURRIED toward the double doors of the Courage Bay E.R., the pavement beneath his feet steaming from the sun’s steady heat. A thousand scenarios ran through his head as he walked, none of them good. They fled his consciousness, however, when a flash of motion off to one side caught his eye. He turned and looked closer, suddenly thinking Holly had been wrong.

Vicki wasn’t dead. She was right there, twenty feet away.

A millisecond passed, then he realized his mistake.

He was looking at Andrea.

She wore a pair of white shorts and a red T-shirt, her thick hair pulled back haphazardly, her face free of cosmetics. Obviously prepared for nothing more than an average day at home, she looked devastated by what had happened, her slumped posture reflecting her state of mind, her gaze directed toward the ground as if it held some cosmic secret.