Page 16 of Stilettos & Whiskey
To my dismay, instead of waiting for me to check it out, the huge fire truck lumbered down the rocky trail, sending up a cloud of dust. I quickly rolled up my window. I caught a briefglimpse of the grinning firefighters in the side mirror. Paybacks are a bitch, boys.
A mile down the trail, the fire truck stopped abruptly, and the horn blasted. Captain Smith and his crew bailed out with their emergency gear.
I keyed my mic, “Radio we have located Charlie-35 a mile south of the Willow Campground on the Sonoran trail.
“Copy, Charlie-24,” the dispatcher responded.
“George-20 copies.”
“Charlie-26 my eta is two minutes.”
“Ten-four.” I got out of my patrol car and hurried after them.
Bleeding from a small cut on his forehead, Evans got to his feet and snapped, “About fucking time you got here. I could have bled to death.”
Captain Smith and his crew exchanged glances.
My temper flared to life. Talk about ungrateful. “You didn’t know where you were. The park is 30,000 acres. You’re lucky we found you as fast as we did.”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” Evans snarled and cocked his fist back.
Captain Smith stepped in front of me. “Enough! Sit on that boulder and let my paramedics check you over.”
“I’m tired of your incompetence, Garza, and I’m reporting you to Sergeant Bergman.” With a huff, Evans sat on the boulder.
Ignoring him, I walked over to the gully and whistled. Evans’ patrol car was a mangled mess. How fast had he been going when he tried to drive down the thirty-foot incline?
I was abruptly spun around. “You got something to say to me, bitch? Say it,” Evans growled.
“Let go of my arm and back the hell up.”
“Okay.” Evans dropped my arm like I had the cooties and shoved me viciously.
The next thing I knew I was tumbling down the side of the gully. I slammed into a rock and lay there for a moment, waiting for everything to stop spinning. Once I got my breath back, I was going to kick his ass.
A gentle hand touched my face. “Anything feel broken?”
I opened my eyes. Two cute firemen were staring down at me. “Where is that bastard?” I gasped.
“Captain Smith and your deputy took him down,” the blond paramedic said, placing a cervical collar around my neck.
“Good.” I frowned. A skull was grinning at me. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.
The blond paramedic placed a hand on my shoulder when I tried to sit up. “Take it easy. You had a nasty fall.”
I blinked when the Hispanic medic shined a penlight in my eyes. “Excellent. Your pupils are responsive.”
The skull leered at me.
“Okay, but do you see that?”
“See what?” The blond medic tilted my head up and examined my throbbing forehead.
I winced as he probed the wound. “Ouch.”
“Got a headache?” The Hispanic medic asked.
“Yeah, I do. I whacked my head on that boulder.”
