Shield Of Refuge. Carol Steward

is our RP, Lieutenant. Amber Scott. She was following the suspect…” The flashing lights of the squad cars were making him sick. “Could you ask them to turn off the flashers?”

      While another officer went to give the order, Amber started explaining why she’d been following.

      “Did you find the girl? The car?” she asked before she explained, again, what she had witnessed.

      Lieutenant Chavez brushed her concerns aside, suggesting she needed to calm down and wait for the ambulance to arrive. “We’ll handle…”

      She lifted her hand to her hip. “You’re not listening to me,” Amber insisted, clearly annoyed with technicalities of anything but the crime. “She was trying to scream and he covered her mouth with his hand, then suddenly she went limp.” Another officer approached and tried to lead her away. “But what about the girl? The car? Why are you all here, and not looking for her?”

      “Don’t worry, Ms….” Garrett said, trying to ignore the dizziness. He glanced at his fellow officer.

      Lieutenant Chavez shone his flashlight in Garrett’s face. “Garrett? You okay?”

      He didn’t answer.

      Amber turned and looked at him. She pressed her key fob, opening the sliding door of her van behind her. “Here,” she said. “Sit down while you wait for the ambulance. Just watch out for the cake box.” She rearranged things, then slid the box to the back of the van. “Oh, no, the shower. I’m going to be late. I need to make a phone call.”

      “I’m afraid you’re going to be more than late, Ms. Scott. Make your call,” Lieutenant Chavez said, then looked at him. “Sit down, Garrett.”

      He was in no condition to ignore an order. He sat in the doorway and took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet, nauseating aroma of a bakery mixed with gas fumes.

      God, don’t let this be serious. He fought off the nausea, eyeing the interesting mess inside—plastic umbrellas, a gift bag with satin spaghetti straps dangling from the front seat, and a small box of what he hoped had nothing to do with the rest of her assortment. He had to be seeing things.

      She must have seen his reaction to the contents, as she reached past him and tucked the flimsy fabric into a gift bag and apologized for the mess. “I was making deliveries on the way to a friend’s wedding shower…when I saw the officer…”

      “Officer? What kind of officer?” Chavez asked as he approached.

      “Police,” she whispered, looking more terrified by the minute. “It was a police costume, I think. The more I’ve thought about it, I don’t think it was real. The fabric was too thin and blew when she ripped it from his pants. It wasn’t made as well as yours.” She stole a glance at Garrett’s shirt. “Are you wearing a bulletproof vest?”

      “Excuse me?”

      “Well, I noticed that the policeman’s shirt, the impersonator policeman…” she stammered, “his was too baggy, but it didn’t register until now. It’s probably because you all wear bulletproof vests, right?”

      If Garrett hadn’t felt like throwing up, he’d have laughed.

      “Yeah, what else did you notice?” the lieutenant asked, skepticism dripping from each word.

      “He covered her mouth with his hand. I’ve never seen any real officer doing that….” She looked nervously from Chavez back to Garrett. “Especially with a bare hand. I mean, some drug addict could bite you, right?” Her fear-filled eyes met Garrett’s again as a state patrol officer arrived and introduced himself.

      Garrett wondered if she’d be half as gorgeous if he hadn’t hit his head. While a couple officers were cleaning up the gasoline with kitty litter, the others were simply staring at Amber Scott. Apparently her good looks weren’t his imagination. Her blond hair was pulled back into a clip and looked like she’d knocked the clip askew in the accident.

      He glanced back at the shower gift and cake as the state patrolman walked around the van, inspecting the scene with a raised eyebrow. “Interesting cargo, Ms. Scott,” the patrolman said, vocalizing Garrett’s thoughts. He pulled his ticket book from the metal clipboard. “May I have your license and registration, please?”

      She had to get into the van in order to find the documents, then dug through her purse for her driver’s license. “Have they found the car yet?”

      “I’m mainly concerned with Officer Matthews’s and your safety right now,” the state patrolman replied with a cocky smile. “Have you had anything to drink this evening?”

      “No,” she answered, then turned back to her glove box.

      The patrolman ran his gaze up and down Amber, then gave her a look of contempt. “Would you agree to a test?”

      Garrett didn’t like the way he was eyeing her.

      She propped her forearm on the steering wheel. “That’s fine, I don’t drink, and I don’t do drugs. I was…”

      Garrett intervened. “Colorado State Patrol is only here to process the accident,” he said, “because Fossil Creek Police Department can’t investigate our own accidents.”

      Amber slid out of the van and handed everything to the patrolman while one of the officers was measuring the skid marks and taking pictures of the vehicles, inside and out.

      The patrolman glared at Garrett, then turned to talk to the lieutenant. The two moved to look under the van, probably to verify how much fluid it had lost, he thought.

      She closed the front door, then leaned against the van next to Garrett. “What if it’s the rapist that everyone’s been looking for?”

      “We already caught him, and this wasn’t the same MO,” Garrett muttered before the lieutenant heard and got involved again.

      “Oh, I guess I missed that in the newspaper.” She began to wring her hands. “But this girl could be hurt.”

      “It’s okay, calm down—just answer the officer’s questions. Don’t offer more,” Garrett mumbled.

      Amber leaned closer and whispered to him. “Are the charges for hitting a cop worse than running into someone else?”

      “Not unless I mention the knife,” he said with a wink.

      “That’s not funny,” she said, a nervous smile twitching her lip. “I was only trying to help.”

      His gaze met hers and they both smiled. “No, hitting a cop is no different, unless it’s intentional.” He glanced at the geometric designs on her dress, then back to her alluring face. He’d never reacted this way to anyone on the job.

      “Well, if one judged by the dozen or so glowering stares I’m receiving from them, one would think so. Can’t some of these officers go looking for the girl? He’s getting away.”

      “He’s already gotten away,” Garrett said as he closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. “Don’t be concerned about the officers. They…” They’re trying not to drool. The image brought a brief mental smile. “Don’t worry, the Fossil Creek Police Department will ask you about the crime you witnessed after the accident is processed,” he said quietly, hoping he didn’t sound as bad as he felt. I just wish you hadn’t hit me. He inhaled a breath of fresh air, propping his knees on his elbows.

      “What’s your name? Garrett or Matthew? I heard them call you both. I want to be praying that your injuries aren’t serious. If that’s okay, I mean. I guess God knows who I hit, but it would mean more to me to know I’m praying for you personally. I owe you at least that much.”

      “Garrett Matthews. I can use all the prayers I can get. Thanks.”

      “They don’t believe me, do they?”

      “They’ll look into it,” he mumbled, not wanting to admit