End of the Road (Ghost Stories Trilogy #1) (21 page)

“You know him?”

“Yeah, he’s in here at
least once a week. Plus, I went to high school with his older brother.”

“Has he always been such
a paranoid prick?”

The bartender laughed
again and swung the towel over his shoulder. “It wasn’t too long ago when that
officer was a rookie and had to earn trust from the other officers.”

“But, I didn’t do
anything. He’s being ridiculous!”

“You’ll just have to
prove yourself then, like he did.”

Turned out, proving
myself was a bitch. When I reported to duty the next day, rumor of my alleged “investigation”
had spread faster than wildfire. Hushed whispers and sideways glances in the break
room reminded me of high school and put me in one of my darkest, foulest moods
ever.

So, when I saw Eric over
by the coffee station, laughing it up with some other officers, I marched in
his direction. He glanced up, saw me coming and smirked. This smirk was quickly
wiped off his face when I shoved him against the wall. His coffee splashed all
over his arm and down the front of his uniform.

“What the fuck Hernandez?”
he yelled and pushed me away.

“You know what the fuck,
Wilcox. You had to go spreading fucking lies about me? I am not a mole.” I
emphasized each word with a poke to his chest, backing him up against the wall
again. “You’re such an asshole!”

The two other officers
Eric had been talking to were laughing at the spectacle I was making, so I narrowed
my eyes and gave them a look that silenced them. Lieutenant Adams appeared in
the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “Hernandez!” he yelled, his
bushy eyebrows gathered together in a scowl. “What the hell is going on?”

“Sir, Wilcox is telling
everyone I’m working on an internal investigation. Can you please tell him the
truth?”

“Jesus Christ you
two…you’re supposed to trust each other and have each other’s backs. None of
this fighting like preschoolers! Wilcox, I doubt they’d plant someone so green,
but Hernandez, I wouldn’t have knowledge if we were under investigation anyway,
would I? I suggest you get over this shit and get to work!”

“Sir,” Eric and I said in
unison. I took a step back so Eric could move away from the wall.

“Maybe you need to kiss
and make up,” one of the other officers joked.

“Shut it, Thompson!” Adams
ordered before storming out and slamming the door behind him.

“Sorry,” I said and
extended my hand out to Eric. “My temper can get the best of me sometimes.”

“Sure, okay. I’m sorry
too.” We shook hands. “If you are a mole, I don’t have anything to hide
anyway.”

“I heard you were in my
shoes before?”

“Where’d you hear that?
Oh, Wally at the bar, right?” I nodded and handed him a napkin which he used to
dab at the coffee stains. “Remind me not to piss you off again. You’re pretty
tough…for a girl.” He said this with a wink and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Honestly, a flash of his
blue eyes and quick smile from him were enough to make me forgive and forget.
Once he discovered this, he learned to use it to his advantage when we became a
couple, which happened not too long after this miscommunication.

Chapter Forty-Six

Near death experiences
are aphrodisiacs. I’d heard this before, but doubted its validity, until I
experienced it first-hand.

About six weeks into
training, Eric and I responded to a call for an officer involved shooting. When
we pulled up to the scene, bullets were flying. One shattered the back
passenger window behind me and I shrieked, leaning forward away from the
explosion.

Eric slammed on the
brakes, put the cruiser in park and hopped out, using his door as a shield. I
followed suit. Adrenaline pumped through my veins making it difficult to
differentiate between the thud of guns discharging and my heart beat. I took a
few deep, calming breaths and located one of the shooters; a big biker with a
Viking like beard. He was wearing a beat up black leather cut covered in
patches. His attention was turned towards Eric and I took full advantage,
firing off one round which hit my intended target. The biker let out a grunt
then fell backwards from the impact and his gun skittered across the ground out
of reach.

“Nice work, Hernandez!”
Eric shouted just as his window burst into a million pieces and glass rained
down on top of his head. Then the night went silent. The remaining shooter was barricaded
in what appeared to be an abandoned house. I used the lull to catch my breath.

“Do you see him?” Eric
whispered across the front seats of the cruiser.

“No, hold on.” I stood up
for a better view when a shot rang out. Pain flared in my right shoulder and I sat
down hard on the dirt.

Eric saw where the shot
had come from and he started firing. I heard a yell and then a man fell forward
out of one of the windows. His top half draped over the sill.

Eric ran around the car
to my side. “Are you okay? Where are you hit?”

“My shoulder, but I think
I’m all right. It just stings.”

He helped me up off the
ground and into the car. I unbuttoned my shirt enough to expose my shoulder. The
interior dome light revealed where the bullet had creased my upper arm. The
blood was already beginning to clot.

The other officer was on
the ground, moaning, and I urged Eric to check on him. “I’m fine, go!” I
reassured him. “I’ll call it in.”

Minutes later, sirens
could be heard drawing closer. As soon as the first ambulance arrived the EMT’s
went to work on the officer, who had been severely injured, having been shot once
in the leg and twice in the chest. I received attention before the suspects
did. They were past help anyway. My first kill didn’t feel as rewarding as I anticipated
it would, I thought as I slumped against my seat. The adrenaline had worn off
and my head was pounding, so I leaned it back against the headrest and shut my
eyes.

A hand closed over mine
and I jerked awake. Eric leaned over me, concern etched on his face.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”
he asked.

“Yeah, I’m good…just
tired I guess.” I sat up and hissed at the tenderness in my arm. I could feel a
bruise beginning to form.

“Well, let’s get you
back. Adams said we can cut out early tonight. I already wrote up a preliminary
report that we’ll finish tomorrow.”

He helped me with my
seatbelt and eased the cruiser back onto the road. When we got on the main
route, he held my hand again. It helped to calm my rattled nerves. We were
almost to the station when he pulled into a Walgreens parking lot. The store
was closed and the lot deserted. The second the car stopped his lips were on
mine. I was so surprised; it took a few seconds to react. I wrapped my
uninjured arm around him and kissed him back as though my life depended on it.

Any work ethic or moral
code I had been determined to adhere to evaporated the moment he kissed me and
we wound up back at his place…in his bed.

The next morning was
awkward. We both had sobered up from our adrenaline high and could barely look
at each other. I waited until Eric rolled away from me to retrieve my underwear
and shirt off the floor. With those items on, I went in search of a bathroom,
which wasn’t hard to find in his one bedroom apartment.

“Jesus, Elena. What the
hell happened?” I asked my reflection in the mirror. My hair, usually kept in a
bun at the base of my neck, fell wild around my shoulders. Lack of sleep left
smudges under my eyes. It wasn’t my appearance I was questioning though, but my
actions. Not only did I sleep with a co-worker, but he was my trainer. The
number one rule I had given myself and I had broken it within the first quarter
on the job - fucking brilliant.

I contemplated the
situation while I freshened up. Using my fingers to comb my hair, wincing slightly
when I moved my injured arm too much, I wrestled the tangled waves back into a
bun and splashed cold water on my face. This helped me feel like myself again,
but I still had an urgent matter to take care of. I needed to find my pants.

Eric slipped into the
bathroom after me and with him preoccupied; I took advantage of having more
time to myself. His apartment was fairly clean for a guy. The sofa and recliner
not only matched, but were somewhat new. The sports section was spread out on
the coffee table, but that was the only clutter, well, except for my pants.
They were on the living room floor by the front door and inches away from my
gun belt.

Fully dressed and more in
control of the situation, I walked into his kitchen and opened up the refrigerator.
I was surprised to see it stocked with food – pretty healthy food too. Reaching
in, I grabbed an apple and a carton of orange juice, noticing that we both
liked the pulp free variety.

The sound of water
running through the pipes stopped and I heard the swoosh of the shower curtain.
I decided to stay out of the bedroom and stood in the kitchen to eat my apple.

A few minutes later Eric
sauntered in wearing cargo shorts and a gray t-shirt. Our eyes met briefly, but
I looked away.

“Elena, I can tell you’re
uncomfortable. Do you want me to drive you to the station so you can get your
car or I can drive you home?” he asked. “We can’t take the cruiser since we’re
not going to work until our shift, but I have my Jeep.”

Neither option was ideal.
If he dropped me off at the station, we risked being seen and it wouldn’t take
a couple of police officers long to deduce what we had been up to. If Eric took
me home, I was still living with my parents and that could be just as bad.

In the end, I opted for the
slightly lesser of two evils: my parents. Eric drove me home in silence and I
stared out at the passing scenery. When he pulled into the driveway, I turned
to face him.

“Eric, what happened
shouldn’t have. We…
I
just got caught up in the moment. This was a one-
time thing that needs to stay between us. Okay?”

His cool blue eyes moved
over my face before meeting mine. “Yeah, you’re right. We can’t let this
interfere with our job. I do have to say, I never did that with any of my other
trainees.” He gave me a wicked grin, which made me laugh. “You have a beautiful
smile,” he said in a softer voice, gently cupping my cheek. I started to lean
into his touch, but pulled away.  

“Eric.” I forced my voice
to sound stern, like a teacher reprimanding her student.

He lifted his hands and
raised them in surrender. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll pick you up for our next
shift and I promise to be all business.”

“Good,” I exhaled and
felt my shoulders relax. “See you later.” I stepped out of the car and did the
walk of shame into my parents’ house.

I opened the front door,
which led right into the living room. The house had an open floor plan, so the
dining room was straight past the living room. My mom, dad and brother were
sitting around the dining room table eating breakfast.

“Good morning!” I said
with a wave and turned to go down the hallway to my bedroom, hoping to avoid
immediate conversation.

“Elena! Is that blood on
your shirt?” My mother yelled. I cringed and stopped mid-step. She should have
been a cop because nothing got by my mom. My uniform top was a light tan and
the blood had dried to a rusty brown, but she had sniffed it out like a
bloodhound. Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she marched over to me. She
gasped and tugged on my shirt sleeve.

“Mom, I’m fine. It’s just
a cut.”

“From what?” she
demanded.

“There was a shooting and
a bullet…”

“You were shot!” Her
eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline. “George, your daughter was
shot!” she called back into the dining room. Chairs scraped on the floor and Cruz
and dad appeared in the hallway.

“That is so cool!” Cruz
said and my mom shushed him.

“Mom, a bullet grazed my
arm and cut me. I did not get shot and I am fine.”

She shook her head and
clucked at me. “Why can’t you be a doctor…something less dangerous?”

I sighed and frowned at
her. “Mom, this is what I want.”

“She wants this, she
wants to get shot,” my mom said to my dad, like I wasn’t standing right in
front of her.

“Carmen, give her some
space. She knows the risks.” He reached for her arm and tried to steer her
away. “Come on, let’s finish breakfast. Are you hungry, Elena?”

“No Dad, I’m too tired.”

“I bet. You be careful
out there.” He winked at me and continued to nudge my mom back to the dining
room.

I made it to my room and
welcomed the cool darkness. My blinds were drawn tight to keep out the sun and
the air conditioning hummed from the vent over my bed. I was asleep in minutes.

A loud bang outside woke
me up and I dove for the floor, searching for my gun. With my heart pounding, I
crept over to a window and peered through the blinds. The sun had moved to the
other side of the house and cast long shadows onto the street. I didn’t see
anything weird and relaxed, laughing at myself. I was more affected by the
shooting than I thought. Memories of the night before and Eric proving himself
a worthy partner came flooding back. When it came down to moments of crisis, he
didn’t shy away.

Less than two years
later, when our crumbling marriage was the crisis, we both ran.

Chapter Forty-Seven

With my training over, I
was given my own patrol car and didn’t see Eric that often. I hated to admit
that I missed him, especially his goofy sense of humor. Like when we were on
duty and we’d stop to grab something at the store, whenever an elderly woman
was in line ahead of us buying alcohol, he’d flirt and ask to see proof that she
was of legal age.

Apparently Eric missed me
too. It was about three weeks in to me being on my own and at the end of my
shift when I ran into him as I was coming out of the bathroom.

“Hey,” he stopped me in
the hallway. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure,” I said and
shrugged my shoulders. “What’s up?”

He licked his lips and quickly
checked to see if anyone was nearby. “Come with me.” He grabbed my hand and led
me down the hall to a small, windowless conference room. The lights
automatically came on when we entered and Eric closed the door behind us. A few
awkward moments passed where we didn’t move any further into the room. There
was a table with eight chairs, plenty of spots for us to sit, but instead we stood
in front of each other.

“What do you want to talk
about?” I prompted, finally breaking the silence.

Eric took a deep breath
and looked me straight in the eyes. “I know we agreed to pretend we didn’t
sleep together, but I can’t stop thinking about that night.”

“Stop,” I held my hands
up and backed toward the door, but Eric reached out and kept me from moving.

“Just listen, please,” he
pleaded. “Hear me out.” His blue eyes were brighter than usual as if lit with
an internal fire.

“Okay, fine.” I crossed
my arms and leaned so my back was pressed against the door.

He smiled and stood up
straighter, placing his hands on his hips. “It’s not just that night I can’t
stop thinking about, but you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I cleaned my
patrol car last weekend and came across one of your hairs embedded in the
upholstery and it made me sad because I miss you…I miss us. You make me laugh
and I know I make you laugh. And that night… we’re good together, right?”

His declaration overwhelmed
me and I had to walk away, to create some distance between us. I circled the
conference table so I was on the other side of the room, pulled out a chair and
plopped down. I was unable to meet his eyes, afraid that what I saw would make
me weak, so I stared down at my hands. The clear nail polish on my thumb had
chipped so I picked at the spot, peeling off little pieces as a distraction
even though I was very aware of Eric watching me. His gaze penetrated like a
million lasers were pointed at my head.

Eric didn’t leave me
alone for too long. He sat next to me and placed his hand over mine, lacing our
fingers together. I still hadn’t responded to his question. My heart and my
body wanted to agree, wanted to climb onto his lap, but my brain wasn’t having
it. Scenarios resulting in me being fired or of me accidentally getting
pregnant ran through my mind. He waited patiently as I waged a silent war with
myself.

“Listen, I’ll walk way
and won’t pursue you if you can honestly say you don’t feel anything between
us,” he said.

I inhaled sharply,
inwardly cursing him. In the short time we had known each other he had learned
that I was honest to a fault. It went against my nature to not tell the truth,
which was a good quality for a career in law enforcement.

“Damn it, Eric! Yes, I
have feelings for you. There, are you happy?” I wrenched my hand out from under
his and stood up quickly, the chair rolled away and from the force, smacked
against the wall. I didn’t get very far as Eric moved just as fast and was pulling
me into his arms. Suddenly I was surrounded by his scent and warmth. His one
hand pressed against the small of my back and his other was buried underneath
my bun, curved around the base of my skull. He placed soft kisses along my neck
and jawline until he claimed my mouth.

All of the feelings I had
been repressing since leaving Eric’s bed came rushing forth and I wrapped my
arms around him as I welcomed his kiss.

A light knock on the door
interrupted us, but we didn’t have time to untangle ourselves. We were still
holding each other when the door burst open. O’Reilly filled the doorway and he
smirked when he took in the scene before him. “I knew it!” he whooped. “I
fucking won the bet! Thanks, Wilcox, I owe you a beer.”

“What bet?” Eric and I
asked in unison. We had recovered from the intrusion and now stood apart.

“Thompson and I were
wagering on whether you two were hooking up. He thought Hernandez was gay, no
offense Elena, but I could smell the sexual tension whenever you guys were in
the same room.” O’Reilly wore a smug grin which quickly faded. “Shit, never
mind, Wilcox there’s a big wreck up on 89A, we gotta go.”

Eric immediately snapped
into professional mode. I was off duty so didn’t need to respond to the call.
“We’ll talk about this later, Lena,” he said and brushed his lips across mine
before rushing out of the room.

That was the first time
he used what became a favorite nickname. I touched a finger to my lips which
still tingled from the force of our kiss. While Eric was no longer in the room,
I could still feel traces of him on my flushed skin, which he had successfully
gotten under.

A few days later we did
talk and after some negotiations, like keeping the PDA’s to outside of work, we
started dating. A year later we were married.

Three months after we got
married I discovered I was pregnant. We had discussed having kids at some
point, but way later. He didn’t say it, but I could practically see the walls
closing in around him when I told him the news.

“You’re pregnant? Are you
sure?” he asked, setting his gym bag down on the tile floor in the front
entryway. I had come out from the kitchen and blurted the news to him the
moment he walked in the door.

“Yes, I took about
fifteen different tests.”

“Oh.” He didn’t look at
me for a few moments before turning to face me. “Is this good news?”

I had been surprised, not
disappointed, when I saw all the pink plus signs staring back at me, but this
response from Eric was unexpected.

“I think we have to get
used to the idea,” I said. “I wasn’t planning on this for a while either, but
it happened.”  

He sat down on one of the
two stools at the small breakfast bar and stared at his hands. “Will you still
be able to work?”

“Sure. The bulletproof
vests might get a little tight down the road.” I joked, hoping to lighten the
atmosphere or at least get him to make eye contact.

“I need to process this,”
he said. He stood up and snatched the keys to his Jeep off of the counter.

“Where are you going?”

“To see Wally,” he
answered and shut the door.

Great, I thought to
myself, he’s going to the bar. Of all the times I could use a stiff drink too
and I’m pregnant. I plopped down on the stool he had so hastily vacated and
listened to the silence of our apartment. A silence I grew used to.

In hindsight, I think the
miscarriage was fate’s way of throwing me a bone.

***

I heard my parent’s
arrival before I saw them. My mother was demanding to know where my room was
and an update on my condition. I extricated my hand from Eric’s and waited for
the onslaught of worry.

My mother entered in her
typical whirlwind fashion with my dad not far behind.

“Elena, have you seen the
news? You’re all over it!” Her nose wrinkled up and she sniffed the air? “What
is that horrible smell? Is something burning?”

Then she noticed Eric and
stopped. “Thank you for calling us,” she said through pursed lips. I knew it
was killing her to be kind to him.

“Mom, slow down. What do
you mean I’m all over the news?” Eric leaned over and started messing with the
remote control panel that was built into the guardrail of my hospital bed.
“Plus, that smell is probably me.” I pointed to the singed ends of my hair and
showed her my forearms where some of the skin had blistered.

She gasped and shook her
head. “Elena, why are you always in danger?” I suppressed the urge to roll my
eyes. This was the first hospital visit since my appendix burst in high school.

“I found it!” Eric
announced and turned up the volume. We all focused our attention on the
television suspended from the ceiling in the corner of the room. A news
broadcast was in progress.

“…unbelievable footage
from today’s dramatic rescue at the Bloody Basin Fire. Our cameraman had set
his camera down for a few minutes and during that time, this was captured.”

We watched in amazement as
I appeared in the camera’s view. Just as Eric had described, I was being
carried out, but the man wasn’t visible. My body was some three or four feet
above the ground; my head hung limp and bobbed with the motion. I passed from
the right to the left of the camera lens and was out of the shot within
seconds.

“This footage is raw
and unedited. We don’t know what we captured, a miracle, something paranormal?
Whatever happened this afternoon is truly remarkable. We have a team heading
over to John C. Lincoln Memorial Hospital, where the woman who was rescued, a
Yavapai County Sheriff’s Deputy, is reported to be a patient. We will you keep
you updated as more details emerge. Once again, here’s a replay.”

I tried to make out the
man who had carried me, but couldn’t see any trace of him, not even an outline.
I was traveling through the air, unconscious and seemingly alone.

“Eric, it’s exactly as
you said. You weren’t hallucinating.”

“You saw this?” my dad
asked.

“Yes.” I proceeded to
fill my parents in on the afternoon’s bizarre events and the man who rescued
me.

“Who do you think he
was…or is?” my mom asked.

“I have no idea…a ghost
maybe?”

“Or an angel,” she added.

“Since when do angels
wear old school bowling shirts?” This comment made my dad chuckle and I started
to laugh, which turned into a painful wheezing fit.

“George, don’t get her
going,” my mom said and she fussed with the oxygen tubes attached to my face.

“Mom, I’m fine.” I pushed
her hands away and took some shallow, but calming breaths.

There was a knock on the
door before it opened. Lieutenant Adams’ head appeared and I told him to come
in.

“Hernandez, you look
better,” he said after meeting my parents. Eric had gotten up and stood next to
him. “It’s a goddamn media circus down in the lobby. That video of your rescue
has gone viral now and it’s everywhere. I came to let you know I gave the
hospital strict instructions you are not to be disturbed and are unavailable
for comment.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, well this whole
situation has the potential to get crazier. Say the word miracle and all the
religious nut jobs start to have a party. Next, someone’s going to find Jesus
Christ in their oatmeal.” He paused and regarded my parents with weary eyes. “Er,
hope I didn’t offend anyone?”

“Not at all,” my dad
said.

“So Hernandez, care to
tell me what the hell happened when you went on your walkabout through the
wildfire?”

For the third time that
afternoon I told my story. Eric chimed in with what he witnessed. Adams paced
across the narrow room and nodded occasionally. When we finished, he stopped
and stared at me. “Wow, I’ve got no explanation…other than what you’ve already
considered.” His phone vibrated and he snapped it off of his belt to read the
display.

“It’s the Director of
Communications for the county, I have to take this.” Adams excused himself and
stepped out into the hall.

“You know this will all
blow over when something more exciting happens,” I told my parents.

“Elena, what if this was
a miracle? You can’t let it pass by without acknowledging it,” my mom whispered
in my ear as she smoothed the skin on my forehead. I closed my eyes and let the
comfort of the familiar gesture wash over me.