~ To Wish for Love ~

by

Jayme Evans

Jenna crept on foot down the narrow path someone dared to justify with a sign and call a street between Charley’s Marketplace and Ming’s Chinese. Just by chance, out of the corner of her eye, she’d seen her target slinking down the wall of the family-owned grocery store and moving toward the back. He had a BOLO—be on the look out—on him. She and her partner, Mike, wanted to bring him in for questioning as a person of interest in the death of his girlfriend. It was hard to track anyone at this time of night in this part of the town. He could hide anywhere and she could probably go right past him and never see him, even with her vigilant, trained eye.

Her partner was circling around the other side of Charley’s marketplace, but she still couldn’t see him or the suspect. It was way too dark back here to see anything and the Glock 22 pistol with tact light in her hands didn’t seem to do much to dispel the misty blackness of the starless night. A cat cried out somewhere near, but she couldn't see it. This was creepier than walking across an empty parking lot after midnight… well, to most women.

She pushed the button on the side of the lapel mic of her radio. “Mike, do you see him?”

“Nothing. You?”

“Nada. He was only a few yards in front of us when we stopped the car. I wouldn’t have thought he’d get very far on foot.”

“Be careful, Jenna. It’s really dark back here, maybe too dark to go in.” Mike’s response crackled on the radio. “He couldn’t have gotten very far, but there aren’t even any stars out tonight and the lights are behind us. He would be able to see us first."

Jenna pressed the button on her lapel mic again. “Christa, we might need backup here.”

"Any units in the vicinity of Third and Broadway..." The droning dispatcher's voice didn't give any confidence to Jenna. The nearest car wasn't that close. And to think that this time last night she was having a ball taking her son around for trick or treat. What a difference one night could make.

She sighed and shined the tact light around again. The beam didn't do much to dissolve the hazy mist of the night. Mike hadn't really thought Tommy Ray would be that dangerous. Mike had known Tommy Ray since he was a kid and Mike was usually pretty cautious. She trusted his judgment more than her own since he was the senior police officer. Rarely did her department have partners—each officer had his or her own car—but Mike had wanted her to ride with him tonight to see if they could find Tommy Ray Smith. Mike thought he could talk some sense into Tommy Ray and get him to turn himself in. She'd just have to see that to believe it.

She kept both hands extended in front of her wrapped around the Glock pistol. Mike didn’t think that Tommy Ray was armed, but she didn’t want to take any chances. As far as she was concerned, he was dangerous, especially if he had strangled his girlfriend like had been reported.

“Tommy Ray! Why don’t you come out here and talk to us? We just want to ask you some questions.” Mike's shout out sounded farther away than she thought he'd be.

No answer.

And it was dark. Really dark. There wasn’t a speck of light coming from anywhere back here, except from behind her. That was dangerous to her since her tact light proved more a beacon than a help.

She edged her way around the corner of the building and smacked into a dumpster. Phew! It was ripe. Even with the cool night, it kicked up quite a stink and practically made her sick. She took a few steps away and tried to not be distracted. Before she could clear the end of the dumpster, something flashed in the light. A knife caught her across the forearm. Extreme pain shot up her arm. She lost her grip. The pistol dropped from her hands. The tact light died. She screamed. Oh man, that hurt. She grabbed her injured arm. The lash was only inches from her wrist. It was already sticky. Dagnabbit. Someone got her good. She was helpless without her gun and blind as a bat.

“Jenna?” The voice was closer now. Mike had to be only a few yards from her and she still couldn’t even see him. Well, maybe that eerie glow was his tact light. It could have used more charging. It wasn’t like him to not to keep his equipment in top-notch shape. He had scolded her enough for just that.

“Mike! He’s got a knife.”

An agonized cry sounded just yards away and then a groan.

“Mike!”

Everything was silent save for her radio. “All units in the vicinity of Third and Broadway...”

Besides the incorporeal voice, she couldn’t hear anything but a single car passing on the street in front of the store. She jerked the taser off her belt and stepped backwards in an attempt to get out of the oppressing darkness. Somehow, she’d have to make it to her car and hope that backup would arrive before she lost too much blood. Her arm was really wet. She stumbled, fell backwards and landed hard on her backside. Dang! That hurt as bad as the cut on her arm. A wave of nausea passed over her as she righted herself.

Footsteps sounded. Did the suspect pass by her? Pain in her tail bone and in her arm kept her from moving fast enough to rise and follow the sound. She tried to find a target for the taser but she couldn't see a thing.

Warmth ran down her forearm and the blood dripped off her elbow. Was the suspect behind her or in front of her now? She didn’t want to turn her back on whoever was back there. Again, she eyed the ground around her. It was like looking into a pool of black tar. Her weapon was steel-gray and black. She couldn't find the Glock. The taser would have to do. And the tact light must have broken when it hit the ground. She would have thought it'd been sturdier than that. Well, she had to get out of here and get help. She took a step toward the street.

“Mike can’t help you any more.” She lifted the taser with her good arm and spun around, nearly losing her balance, and peered up just in time to see the outline of a person blocking her exit. Even from his silhouette she knew him. Tommy Ray. But he didn't stay in one spot. His blackened shadow disappeared as the taser hit nothing but air. One shot wasted and now she was defenseless, even with her martial arts training. You couldn't kick if you couldn't get close enough.

“Freeze, Tommy Ray! Put your weapon down. I’m armed and I will shoot.” Her voice sounded strange even to herself. He wouldn’t believe her if she didn’t sound more convincing.

“You’re not talking me to jail. I killed Kathy. I didn’t mean to, but she made me so mad. No one will ever understand. And your gun?” He chuckled. “I have it.”

Drat! He’d found her gun. What now? A blast echoed in the dark alley. Pain seared through her chest. The shock sent her backwards. She landed on the ground with a thud. Pain shot through her whole body. Her head bounced on the hard pavement. Then—

~ * ~

Strange lights surrounded Jenna… not in her house, for sure. She lay on a comfortable bed, though narrow. Where was she? The air smelled sweet, slightly medicinal and better than that nasty dumpster.

The dumpster? “Mike?” She stiffened, reaching for her lapel mic only to find it wasn’t there. Nothing was there. No belt, no gun, no radio, no uniform. Her breathing was labored, but not from the tight vest she normally wore. She was too sore just to shift in the bed.

“Be at peace. You have been injured, but you are going to recover completely.”

Jenna peered up at an attractive blond woman, who wore a uniform, but not the type of nurse’s uniform she normally saw. These looked more like scrubs, a light blue tunic over white pants. Had Jenna been in surgery? Was this a recovery room? What had happened to her?

Oh yeah, the knife had struck her across the arm. Jenna lifted it to peer at the gash. The wound had been bandaged, but with a clear wrap of some kind. Under the wrap was her gash, but it looked clean and pink, not fresh at all. “Where’s Mike? Is he okay?”

“Now that you’re awake, Supreme Commander Ominar will be here shortly and explain what needs to be said. Just try to relax because you are safe here.”

The blond spoke slowly and distinctly, but had a slight accent. Whatever was she talking about? Jenna was relaxed. Limp, like she could lay here forever. In fact, she was so tranquil that she’d fall asleep again just any minute.

And who was Supreme Commander Ominar? No one in the department used that title. Sounded Navy, maybe. But her little town was far from the ocean, in a landlocked state, and why would a Navy commander, or whatever, be coming in to see her?

The confusion wasn’t getting any better. She’d been drugged or something and must have been out of it for some time. She moved slightly and her whole body hurt. With her unwounded arm, she swept her hand across her body. She had something on, but not the traditional hospital gown. A white robe of some kind covered her with nothing under it. The fabric was silky like one of her best blouses, but comfortable and stretchy—an odd combination. This certainly wasn’t the printed hospital gown one usually associated with hospitals.

And her chest hurt with the slightest movement. She had been shot! Yes, she remembered now. Tommy Ray had found her gun. The blow from the blast had knocked her to the ground. It had hit her dead center of her chest. Surprising that she could remember something so traumatic, but she’d never forget Tommy Ray’s voice. Her bulletproof vest must have saved her, but what of Mike? Had he been killed and they just didn’t want to tell her yet? She’d heard him groan before Tommy Ray had sneaked up behind her.

A voice sounded across a speaker system. “Announcing Supreme Commander Prince Ralf of the family Ominar.”

Jenna scrunched her eyes together and rubbed her hand across her face. Well, she knew now that was being delusional. She would have sworn the woman on the intercom said ‘prince’. Boy oh boy. What had they given her? It sure had made her loopy. Unless, it was his first name, but what a strange way to say it. She had to turn her head only slightly to see the figure of a man. “You.”

The tall white-haired man that she'd seen last night sauntered up to her bedside. “I see that you are finally awake. Welcome back to reality. You have had a rough few days.”

What was the white-haired man doing here? How did he find her in this hospital? If she could be any more confused, she didn’t know how. She had even more questions to ask. “How long have I been here?”

“For four of your days.”

Whatever did he mean? Her days? What other days would he mean? Even in military time, twenty-four hours meant twenty-four hours. “I’ve been here four days?”

“Your wounds are healing well. We kept you in a semi-coma until today so that you could get the ultimate rest for your body’s repairs. Some bone restructuring had to be done.”

She lifted her arm. “I can see that my arm is closing up good, but I didn’t know the knife went through to the bone. I guess I was lucky to have that vest on.”

Puzzlement filled his gaze. “Vest?”

This time, the man’s accent seemed more pronounced. Did he not understand the English word? “The bulletproof vest. I wouldn’t go out without one, especially into dark back lots.”

“If that garment was meant to stop the projectile, it worked, but the impact shattered the bones underneath. The bones splintered and spread throughout your chest. You nearly died from the shattered bones as well as the slash across your arm. Both produced severe blood loss. We had to put you on blood transfer as soon as you arrived. Fortunately, your blood is compatible with some types of ours.”

Blood transfer? Did he mean a transfusion? “I… I don’t understand. What about Mike?”

This time the man looked puzzled and narrowed his gaze on her. “And who is this person that you refer to?”

“Mike Mallory, my partner. Did he get hurt too? I heard a groan… I think.”

“Ah, you are referring to the man who was upon the ground behind the establishment where we found you. I’m afraid that his body signs had expired. We did not bring him here.”

Expired? Did that mean what she thought it meant? “He’s dead? Oh no. He has a family. He still has college age kids at home.”

“And you do as well, a small boy? I assume that child was yours on your festive night.”

She startled. How could he know that? Oh yeah, he had seen her with him just last night. Well, not last night. Four or five days ago it would seem. With whatever they gave her, her mind was still foggy and working on half cylinders. “Yes, Benjamin. Who has him? His Aunt Leslie?”

“Again, I do not know this person.”

She tried to sit up, but the pain shot through her. She was stiff from lying here too much. She groaned. It’d take weeks, maybe months, for her to get back to form. She sure didn’t want to lie around the house for endless days. She had to be active, doing something.

“You are in distress when there is no need.” He tapped a bracelet or something on his wrist and spoke. “Chief Medical Agent Graint, please bring something for pain for our visitor. Her movements are causing considerable discomfort.”

She kept herself still. Right now, sitting up just wasn’t an option. “Oh, it’s okay, but I really need to call Leslie, or at least Christa, because she’d know if Ben is still over at Leslie’s house. She watches him when I’m on duty.”

“Then I assume the child is still with this Leslie person.”

She was so baffled. This man didn’t know anything about her department, so how’d she come to be in his care? Was he a doctor? Is that why he wore white? Still, his outfit looked more Luke Skywalkerish, complete with boots and a wide belt, rather than a Navy uniform. What hospital had they sent her to? It must really be far away and she must have really been near death for them to send her someplace besides the local hospital. Trauma patients usually got air-lifted to the city, about a half hour away.

“I probably don’t need to worry about him. He’s in good hands. Leslie has watched him since I returned to work right after he was born.”

“As a police authority?”

There was that terminology again. He must be an immigrant from some other country, and didn’t know English well. Some of the local doctors were foreign too, and couldn’t speak English as well as this man. “Yes, I’m a police officer.”