Chapter 10

Ron Harris winced in the darkness of his bedroom, as the telephone next to his bed shrilled like a lance into his recoiling ears. Having just finished a fifteen hour day on the job, it felt like he hadn't slept at all. Looking at his alarm clock, he could see that he really hadn't slept at all.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, hoping that before he was fully awake, the phone would shut up and leave him in peace. No such luck. It went on and on, refusing to die. He eventually resigned himself to having to answer it.

He snatched up the handset and barked into it, "What?"

"Detective Harris?" said a female voice on the other end. The voice sounded calm and business like, and not at all sympathetic to his lack of sleep.

He sighed. "This is Harris," he said lugubriously.

"We've got a hot one for you, sir," the voice said. She even sounded a little excited, as if she were about to tell Harris he'd won the lottery.

"Shoot," he replied.

"We have an assault, with a young girl being left for dead, now hospitalized," the voice began.

"If that's the reason you called, you better have your life insurance paid up."

"The assault was just the beginning," the voice said, sounding smug. "We then have a chase through the city, a possible kidnapping, a gun battle with three cops shooting, and finishing with a car going cliff diving and exploding on impact, with the perp and the only son of one of the city's most prominent families inside."

"Oh, fuck," moaned Harris.

"Yup," said the voice, finally sounding somewhat sympathetic. "Chief said he wants his best detective on it. He said that's you." She paused for a moment. "Sorry," she finished.

"All right," he said. "Where is the girl, and where are the shooters now?"

"Two of the cops are still at the crash site, keeping a perimeter while the crime scene investigators go over the wreck. The third cop radioed in that he would be taking two witnesses to the hospital. It's Memorial, the same hospital that the assault victim is in."

"Okay," he replied. "I guess I'll head for the hospital then. I want you to get everything we know typed up or written down. I want a transcript of any 911 calls associated with the case. Have all of that faxed to somewhere in the hospital. When that's done, call my cell and tell me where in the building to pick it up. Call the cop that was headed to the hospital and tell him to stay there until I speak to him. Have the cop's cell phone number, if he's carrying one, on the fax too. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Got all that?"

"Yes sir," was the confident reply. "Sorry again, sir."

"Hey, if it wasn't this, it'd be something else," he replied philosophically.

"Roger that," she said, as she hung up the phone.

Pete pulled his cruiser into the hospital parking lot, and turned off his rotating blue and red roof lights. Sandy pulled her car into the space next to the cruiser, having followed as Pete cleared traffic for them. Sammy was huddled in the seat next to Sandy, covered with coats and blankets to counter the symptoms of the shock that had struck her.

Pete had alerted the hospital by radio to expect them, and two nurses with a stretcher came running. They gently but quickly moved Sammy to the stretcher, strapped her down, and hustled back inside the building. Sandy had paused before running after Sammy to give Pete another venomous look.

Pete sat immobile in his car, in a shock of his own. He had suggested that an ambulance be called for Sammy. Sandy insisted (was "fuck off" the same as insisting?) that she would take her to the hospital, and that she wanted to go there to check on Julie as well.