Catherine Lanigan - California Moon

“Appears it’s going to be a nice day,” Jimmy Joe said, watching her as she pushed the gurney into the elevator.

She held her breath, feeling his eyes free-falling across her backside.

Shannon rammed her thumb against the fourth-floor button and glanced down at her patient. When the doors slammed shut, Shannon exhaled with relief. “Safe once again.”

Ben Richards was the newest addition to the Shreveport Police Department, and therefore drew the unlucky assignment of standing guard over the comatose John Doe at St. Christopher’s Charity Hospital.

“I suppose you want to get reassigned,” Jimmy Joe said, exhaling heavily as he spoke.

“No, sir. I’m quite satisfied.”

“Satisfied?” Jimmy Joe eyed him suspiciously.

“Absolutely. If this is where you need me, then this is where I’ll be,” Ben said firmly.

“Good. You let me know the minute that guy comes around. I’ve got some questions that need answering,” Jimmy Joe continued. “You’ve only been here a few days…”

“And everyone else is needed for more important work?” Ben offered.

“That’s right.” Jimmy Joe smiled. “Glad to see you understand.”

“Of course. No problem.” Ben clasped his hands behind his back.

Jimmy Joe grinned widely. “You catch on quick, son.” He assessed the tall, thirty-six-year-old man. “You’re kinda old for a rookie. Why’d it take you so long to get through the academy?”

“I didn’t know what I wanted out of life until two years ago. I just kinda bummed around, I guess you’d say.”

“I see. Just so you know, every case is top priority to this office.”

Ben held his palm in the air. “Don’t apologize, sir. I’m happy to take this responsibility. If there’s any information forthcoming from John Doe, rest assured I’ll be on top of it.”

“Fine.”

“Did we ID the body in the morgue?” Ben slipped the question in easily.

Jimmy Joe nodded. “Even though there was no ID on either one of them when we brought them in, we found his initials inscribed inside his watchband. Then we ran his fingerprints. He had a misdemeanor arrest when he was sixteen. Probably got busted on prom night. His name is Adam Rivers, of New Orleans. I just got the call his wife’s coming in. She’s probably downstairs right now. Let’s go.”

Ben followed Jimmy Joe.

Shannon wrapped a pilled black cardigan around her shoulders as she waited outside the hospital, where she was to meet Alice Rivers, then take her to the morgue.

The automatic glass doors opened. Chief Bremen, Ben Richards and Helen Mayer walked toward her.

“Mrs. Rivers isn’t here yet?” Helen asked.

“No,” Shannon answered, glancing quickly at Chief Bremen. She felt chills surge across her back. She wished she was anywhere but here. She looked away from the older man to Ben. “Who’s he?” she asked quietly.

“John Doe’s bodyguard,” Helen whispered.

Ben overheard Shannon’s question. “My name is Ben Richards,” he said, putting out his hand.

She looked at his hand and nodded while hugging herself against the cold. “A bodyguard? He’s unconscious. He can’t hurt anyone.”

Shannon looked away from Ben’s probing eyes. The wind whipped around the corner, stinging her eyes. It gave her an excuse to close them and pretend she was nowhere near these men. Cocking her head toward Helen, she whispered, “This case gets more bizarre by the minute. And why should Alice Rivers need me…a nurse?”

Helen gave her a sidelong glance, pointing to the squad car as it pulled up. “Wait and see.”

Gallantly, Ben opened the car door and extended his hand to the woman inside.

“My God. She’s pregnant.” Astonishment cut through Shannon’s voice.

“Overdue, actually,” Helen replied.

“What are these bastards trying to do? Send her into shock?” Shannon glared at Ben.

He ignored her and smiled at Alice.

Helen shrugged her shoulders. “I thought the same thing. They say it’s for security. I’ve alerted Maternity. Watch her closely, Shannon. She’s in your hands now.”

Shannon moved toward the squad car, intent on taking over from Ben.

Alice Rivers was child-size despite the pregnancy. Her face was pale as she shifted her weight grimly.

“I’m Shannon Riley. I’m here to help you.” Shannon said, casting Ben an icy glare and he backed away. Shannon shook Alice’s hand. “You’re trembling.”

“Wouldn’t you be?” Alice asked.

“Of course.”

“I’m Ben Richards, Mrs. Rivers. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know,” he said in a comforting tone of voice that surprised Shannon with its depth.

Alice nodded curtly to Ben and Jimmy Joe rather than touch their extended hands.

“You’ll be fine,” Shannon assured her.

Alice gave her a grateful look.

“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Rivers,” Jimmy Joe said. “I must warn you, Mrs. Rivers, this may not be your husband, but from the description you gave the New Orleans police—”

“You think it is,” she finished for him.

“Yes.”

Alice’s eyes went pleadingly to Shannon. “He didn’t tell me he was coming here. Adam doesn’t know anyone in Shreveport.”

“We think he knew the man in the hospital,” Ben said.

“What man?” she said, looking at the police officer once more.

“The man we found with your husband.”

“Who is he?”

“We were hoping you could tell us that,” Ben said.

Alice shook her head vehemently. “We don’t know anyone here.”

“I understand,” Ben replied calmly. “Perhaps we should get this over with.”

“Yes,” she answered, her eyes going back to Shannon.

Shannon put her arm protectively around Alice’s back.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Mrs. Rivers.” Shannon said.

“How can you say that? My husband is missing, for God’s sake. And the best I can do at this moment is pray it’s not him in there on a slab.”

Shannon saw the tears in the woman’s eyes and her heart went out to her. “Believe me, I do know what you’re going through,” she whispered. “It’s hell, but we’ll do it together. Just you and me. Okay?”

Their eyes met in that knowing glance women share when their hearts are open. Alice clutched Shannon’s sleeve. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Good girl.”

They went inside to ICU, where three men and one elderly woman were attached to high-tech monitoring equipment. Black screens with waving lines and tiny blinking lights indicated that the still bodies were alive.

Alice braced herself.

Shannon felt her own skin turn cold. “C’mon.”

Alice’s frantic eyes flitted from gurney to gurney. “This isn’t happening.”

Shannon’s arm tightened around Alice as if she were the one needing strength.

Alice lumbered awkwardly, her arms strapped over her abdomen clearly trying to hold herself together. Fear crept back into her eyes. “Adam isn’t here?”

“No,” Jimmy Joe said flatly. “We were hoping you could identify John Doe for us.”

Ben stood next to the last gurney in the area. “Do you know this man?”

Shannon watched Alice intently.

Alice stared at the mangled swollen face of the man who appeared more dead than alive. She gasped and turned ashen. “My God! Did they crush his face?” She put her hand over her mouth, holding back her nausea.

“They thought they killed him.”

“You mean, like they killed Adam?”

“Yes,” Jimmy Joe answered. “Unless this man killed your husband first. We simply don’t know.”

She gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth. “Did they torture them?”

“Alice…” Shannon’s voice was filled with concern.