When Love Matters Most. Kate James
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ahead to make sure they could see Zeke right away.
Despite the short interval, by the time Rick drove into the clinic’s parking lot, Zeke’s breathing had become shallow and labored. His eyes had drifted closed.
Rick carried the dog as fast as he could into the clinic.
“Oh, my gosh! What happened?” The receptionist—not Heather, the clinic’s regular one, but the college kid who filled in sometimes—sprang up from her desk and rushed around the counter.
“He’s been shot. As I told you on the phone, he needs attention right away.” Rick’s voice was hoarse with emotion. They couldn’t lose Zeke.
“Here! We’re ready for you.” She indicated an examination room and quickly opened the door for him. “You’re Sergeant Rick Vasquez, with the SDPD, correct?”
Rick laid Zeke down on the examination table. “Yeah. Good memory, but can you hurry, please? Zeke needs help urgently.”
“Okay, I’ll get Madison right now.”
Rick’s head whipped up. “What? Why not Jane? I need the best for Zeke.”
The girl took a stumbling step back. “I... I’m sorry, but Jane’s off this week.”
Rick fought to keep his temper in check, more for Zeke’s sake than the receptionist’s. He didn’t want the dog to be any more agitated than he already was. “What about Don, then?” He inquired about the other partner in the practice.
She shook her head. “He’s at a conference.”
“Fine,” Rick said tersely. “Get whoever you mentioned in here, then.” Recognizing the girl’s distress through his haze of anger and fear, he added in a more controlled voice, “As fast as possible, please.”
The girl nodded briskly and rushed out of the room.
Rick could see that Zeke’s condition had deteriorated considerably during transport. It made the wait seem interminable, although it couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes before the door finally swung open again.
Seeing the vet enter, he felt a jolt. His immediate reaction was elemental and hormone-driven. The woman standing in the doorway was of average height, with impressive curves obvious even in the boxy white lab coat, and she had long, curly red hair. When she introduced herself as Madison Long, he heard Texas in her sultry voice. He was unaccustomed to his shock at the sight of an attractive woman. He ignored the feeling, astonished that he’d even noticed her appearance when all he cared about was Zeke and his survival.
She narrowed her eyes and he realized he must have been scowling. “Are you qualified to deal with trauma?” he blurted out, to reestablish focus on Zeke and his care. Stupid question, he chastised himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth, but there was no taking them back.
The V that had formed between her brows deepened. Her curt “Of course” sounded haughty, and made him angry for some reason...probably at himself, if he was honest. During the drive to the clinic, his feelings of guilt had extended from Jeff to Zeke, and that hadn’t helped his disposition. He was desperate for them both to pull through.
Then the veterinarian was all business. She asked him to explain what had happened and began her examination.
When she manipulated Zeke’s leg and the dog yelped, Rick’s angst spewed forth. “You’re hurting him,” he accused.
She looked aggravated. “I’m trying to diagnose him.”
“Well, can’t you give him an anesthetic or something to ease the pain?” He couldn’t stand to see the dog suffer. “You...”
The door opening interrupted Rick, and one of the techs rushed in.
Ignoring Rick, the veterinarian spoke to the tech. “Oh, good, Sean. Can you please hold Zeke still and try to keep him calm while I finish my examination?”
“Sure,” Sean replied, and moved into position beside the examination table.
When Zeke whimpered again, Rick threw his hands up. “You can’t let him suffer like this! Can’t you just...”
“I have to determine the extent of his injuries before I can sedate him,” she cut in. “I need you to stay quiet and let me do my job.”
“But...”
“Sean,” Madison interrupted and addressed the tech with a voice that brooked no argument. Her gaze, steady and angry, rose to meet Rick’s. “Since the officer is being a distraction, please escort him out so he can wait in the reception area and we can do our best for his dog.” As she lowered her eyes to Zeke, her expression softened and her whole demeanor changed. “We don’t have time to waste quarreling.”
Rick was about to object, insist that he had to stay. He needed to know what was happening with Zeke. When he felt Sean’s hand on his arm, he wanted to argue or resist, but realized it wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Zeke. It would only take valuable time and energy away from his care. Whether Rick liked it or not, this doctor was Zeke’s only chance, and antagonizing her would do no good. He didn’t bother to correct her that he was a sergeant or that Zeke wasn’t his dog. Both facts were irrelevant.
He shrugged off Sean’s grasp. “I can manage on my own,” he grumbled, and left the room, with Sean closing the door none too gently behind him.
Rick moved restlessly about the waiting area, occasionally stopping to stare out the window. He worried about Jeff. He worried about Zeke. He fumed at the way the bust had fallen apart, and berated himself for not having been there to begin with. The guilt, anger and worry were an ugly maelstrom in his gut.
He called his parents to tell them he was okay. He knew they’d be worried because they would’ve heard the news by now. He called his sister, Sophie, as well, since she’d left him a couple of frantic messages. He assured her, too, and asked that she call their brother, Daniel. Rick phoned Logan next to get another update on Jeff’s condition and the state of the investigation.
Jeff was out of surgery, but the doctors still couldn’t give any guarantees that he’d make it. They’d done all they could for him, Logan reported, but Jeff had lost too much blood, and the internal damage had been extensive. There were no developments with respect to the investigation. All they knew of the shooter at this point was that he was probably Mexican.
Rick couldn’t believe how what should’ve been a straightforward bust had gone so wrong. They’d received a tip, as they often did. It wasn’t from one of their usual confidential informants, although they’d dealt with this CI in the past. Nothing major, but enough to establish a degree of credibility. With the time frame so short, they’d never properly validated the tip.
Would he have taken any additional precautionary measures if he’d been called in? In retrospect, he felt that an abandoned vehicle would have been a yellow if not a red flag for him, but would he have thought so in the moment? Or would he have been so anxious to get the bust that he would’ve done exactly the same thing they had? He let out a string of expletives as he spun away from the window.
And nearly bumped into Andrea or Angela or whatever the part-time receptionist’s name was. He hadn’t realized she’d approached him.
“Um, would you like some coffee or water...while you wait?” she asked.
Her eyes were round, and she linked and relinked her fingers in front of her. Rick exhaled heavily. It wasn’t like him to take his feelings out on other people. It was also rare that his temper got the best of him. He sighed and smoothed the harsh edge to his voice. “I’m sorry. Yeah, a coffee would be good. Thanks.”
When she left to get it for him, he stared at the closed door to the exam room. Why was it taking so long?
His cell phone rang, and he answered it.
Jeff had gone into cardiac arrest.