DANCES WITH RATTLESNAKES

By: Kenda

      Author's Note: This story contains some violence and the occasional use of strong language; therefore 'Dances' is considered an intense drama. Doctor Marybeth Lambe assisted with many medical questions for which I'm eternally grateful. Any mistakes made in the final translation of facts from Marybeth are solely the author's.

     Extensive research brought me to the conclusion that to accurately and respectfully portray the language and customs of any particular Indian tribe is quite an undertaking. Therefore, any references to Johnny's heritage are purely fictional.

Prologue

March, 1978

        The man stared out the driver's side window of his Oldsmobile, watching as the first wave of children poured out of the schoolyard gates. The kids that made up the initial three-thirty flee to freedom didn't interest him. But then they never had. To begin with, the majority of them were boys. Boys didn't ignite the fire that burned out of control somewhere deep in his soul. After all, it wasn't like he was some kind of faggot. The few girls that were interspersed amongst the boys didn't make his groin twitch either. He could tell just by looking at them they were tomboys. Little girls who were rushing home to grab baseball mitts before joining their male counterparts in a sandlot game. He'd learned the hard way that tomboys were nothing but trouble. Too feisty, too sure of themselves, too apt to fight, kick, bite, and scream. They weren't worth the effort when there were so many sweet, mild mannered dainty little girls available for the taking.

        The man shifted in his seat. His six and a half foot, three hundred pound frame made the car too small to be comfortable. But comfort wasn't an option when being inconspicuous was a must. The Oldsmobile was a popular car right now, brown its top selling color. He blended right in with all the other parents waiting outside the Sun Grove Elementary School.

        It was late March in Arizona, but already felt like mid-July to this drifter who had been born and raised in the flatlands of Illinois. He reached over and turned the car's air conditioner up another notch. His eyes followed a group of little girls who passed by on the sidewalk right outside the passenger door.

        Too young. The oldest one in the bunch can't be more than six. They're no fun when they're that little. They don't understand what's going on. What's ultimately going to happen to them. No matter how badly they're hurting, they still think I'm going to return them to their mamas.

        The two girls who passed by next were estimated to be thirteen.

        Too old.

        He didn't like them a day over twelve. If he wanted pubic hair and breasts he could pay a prostitute for a night of fun. Many years ago he'd come to the conclusion that the age range between eight and eleven was perfect. Prepubescent as it was called. Prepubescent. He liked that word. It described what he was looking for to a T. Still young enough to have a little girl's body, but old enough to understand what he was doing to them. Old enough to sense what he planned for them, but not old enough to know why. Old enough to try to escape, but young enough to be caught time and time again until eventually, like a cat with a tortured and terrified mouse, he lost interest in his play toy and killed it.

        He felt himself harden as he caught a glimpse of the little blond girl in the review mirror. She was walking by herself, carrying a Bionic Woman lunch box in one hand and a library book in another.

        Perfect. Oh, God, she's beautiful. Like an angel. A sweet little angel and not more than nine years old I'll bet. So tiny. So petite. Oh, Lord, but she'll make sitting in the hot sun half the afternoon pay off.

        He put his car in gear and slowly followed the girl as she turned a corner. He was in no hurry. He'd done this so many times over the past thirteen years that he never made a mistake. It was a lot like fishing. You just had to be patient and toss out your bait when the time was right.

        Evan Crammer looked down at the seat. The Hershey Bar was there, along with a Three Musketeers. She was bound to like one or the other. The chloroform, ropes, blind fold, and duct tape were hidden in the glove compartment, the knife was under the driver's seat. After all, there was no need to scare her. At least not yet. There'd be plenty of time for that later.

        As Evan pulled the car over to the sidewalk he reached for the candy bars. He put the vehicle in park and climbed out. He'd never thought of it before, but today was his anniversary. Thirteen years ago on this date he'd killed his first victim. Her name had been Kathy Swanson. She was eight years old. A beautiful little girl with blond hair and blue eyes. An angel. His first angel.

        Evan finger combed his sandy brown bangs then straightened the tie on his navy blue uniform shirt. He reached into the back seat for the policeman's cap and billy club. He slid the club into the leather loop attached to his belt before setting the cap on his head with military precision. He walked away from the car, willing his voice not to crack with excitement as he stepped on the sidewalk and called, "Little girl! Sweetheart, wait up there a minute, please. I need to talk to you!"

        Heather Gaines smiled when she saw the policeman walking towards her with a candy bar in his hand. He must be one of the patrol officers she'd learned about in school whom the teachers referred to as Officer Friendly. One of the Officer Friendly's had even visited her second grade classroom the previous year. He'd passed candy out to the children that day, too. Heather liked candy. Especially Hershey Bars. She willingly followed the man to his car, never realizing the error of her ways until a chloroform soaked rag was pressed against her small face.
        
        

Chapter 1

        Roy DeSoto plopped his weary body down on the bench in front of his locker. Station 51's A-shift was coming off a straight three day tour of duty. Roy didn't think he and Johnny had quit running to the squad that entire time. The only benefit Roy could see as he slipped his shoes from his aching feet was that it was four o'clock on Thursday afternoon and none of the A-shift had to report back to the station until eight on Tuesday morning.

        Johnny trudged into the locker room, pulling his uniform shirt from beneath the waistband of his pants. He was the only man Roy knew of who was thin enough to do that so effortlessly without unbuckling his belt first.

        "Man, these three day shifts are killers," Johnny groaned as he opened his locker and pulled out a pair of jeans and a short sleeved polo shirt.

        "I thought you said you were going to like these new rotations the department was trying. You said three days on in exchange for four days off sounded better than sex."

        John blinked and placed a hand on his chest. "I said that?"

        "You sure did."

        "I actually used the phrase, 'better than sex?' "

        "Uh huh."

        "I must have been delirious from lack of sleep."

        Roy stood as he pulled on his Levis. "I thought so at the time."

        "What's better than sex?" Chet asked as he entered the room.

        "Nothing," came Johnny's quick reply. The last thing John needed was Chet being told he'd actually said something like that. He'd be sure to hear about it for the next month.

        The three men talked shop while they changed from their uniforms into their civvies. As the conversation about the last run of the afternoon wore down Roy turned to Johnny.

        "You're still picking the kids up from school tomorrow?"

        "Yep."

        "Okay. Joanne will send their gear with them in the morning then. You sure you want to do this? You don't have to, you know. We don't want to inconvenience you."

        "Roy, you're not inconveniencing me. Besides, I volunteered. I've had the kids every year on your anniversary since Jennifer was three."

        Roy nodded. That was true, but never before had Johnny taken the kids to his place for two and half days with a camping trip thrown in to boot. That first year John had watched Chris and Jennifer he and Roy had been partners just four months. The night consisted of no more than Roy and Joanne going out to a swanky restaurant and a play afterwards. They'd been home by one in the morning, thus relieving Johnny of his babysitting duties. The next year Johnny had convinced Roy to take Joanne away for their anniversary. By then Joanne knew Johnny better and had grown to love him like a brother, while at the same time trusting him with her husband's life. She had no qualms about leaving him alone for the weekend with her children. If anyone had qualms it was Roy, who knew his partner had a penchant for trouble without really looking for it. But the weekend had been wonderful. The house was still standing when Roy and Joanne returned from Carmel, and when it came time for John to go home Chris and Jen clung to his hands while begging him to stay longer. Ever since then Roy's children had celebrated their parent's wedding anniversary with the man they affectionately called Uncle Johnny. Now that Johnny owned a small ranch in the foothills of the San Gabriel mountains that included a barn, corral, four horses, a dog, a cat and five kittens, the kids couldn't spend enough time with him as far as they were concerned.

        "It's a tradition, Roy," John said now as he tucked his maroon shirt into his Wranglers. "The kids and I have been doing this for six years. Chris will be twelve in October. It won't be long before he starts thinking Uncle Johnny's just another washed up old fireman. When that day comes he'll turn his nose up at the thought of spending time with me."

        "Like the rest of us do?" Chet quipped from behind his locker door.

        Johnny didn't waste his breath by tossing his foe a well deserved, "Shut-up, Chet," but Roy could read the words on his face.

        "Chris will never think of you as washed up," Roy told his partner. "Uncle Johnny is 'the coolest' as far as Christopher is concerned."

        Chet didn't allow John to bask in the glow of that remark for long. He shut his locker and tossed his tennis shoes on the bench. He bent and slipped the right one on his foot, then did the same with his left. While he tied the laces he teased, "Hey, Roy, I'd think twice about leaving the kids with Johnny if I was you. You know how accident-prone he is. The guy's a rescue squad call waiting to happen. The last thing you want is Gage's klutziness rubbing off on Chris and Jen."
        
        "I'll have you know I haven't suffered from so much as a splinter in the last year," Johnny tossed back at Chet. "No broken bones. No concussions. No bumps, bruises, or burns. Didn't even catch that head cold you guys were passing around in February."

        "He's right, Chet," Roy smiled. "I don't know what gods Johnny's been making shrines to, but evidently he's getting favorable results. As a matter of fact it's getting rather boring being his partner."

        "Yeah, Gage, now that Roy mentions it, you haven't gotten us out of any shifts to make an unscheduled trip to Rampart. Geez, if you were a true friend a guy would think you'd make the effort to come through for us at least once every couple of months like you used to."

        "Sorry, gentleman, but what you have before you is an older, wiser, John Gage who now looks both ways before he crosses the street."

         Chet cocked an eyebrow. "Wiser?"

        Before the man could say anymore John shut his locker door and headed for the exit. "I'll have the kids call you tomorrow night to wish you a happy anniversary. What time are you leaving?"

        "We're not."

        "You're not?"

        "No. We talked about going out of town for the weekend, but then decided a couple of days at home without the kids would be just as relaxing as a couple of days away."

        "Whatever suits your fancy," Johnny shrugged. "I'll bring them home around six on Sunday night."

        "That's fine. Plan to stay for dinner. I'll throw some steaks and burgers on the grill."

        "Sounds good to me. See you Sunday."

        "Yeah. See ya'. And thanks again."

        Johnny's "No problem," was barely heard as he exited the locker room.

        "So Johnny's a good babysitter, huh?" Chet asked after the dark headed man had left.

        "You bet. Always has been, even in his younger and wilder days. The kids love him."

        "I'll have to remember that."
        "Why?"

        Chet put an arm around Roy as they, too, headed out the locker room door.

        "Roy, old buddy, the Phantom doesn't plan to be a bachelor forever. One of these days he's gonna settle down and marry himself a nice, Irish-Catholic girl. And you know what Irish-Catholic girls do best, don't you?"

        Thinking of the Kennedy family Roy guessed, "Produce lots of Irish-Catholic babies?"

        "That's right. And after the little woman and I get to about...oh, say number six, I think Gage will make the perfect nanny, don't you?"

        Roy laughed. "Chet, under normal circumstances Johnny's an outstanding babysitter. However; I have a feeling the Phantom's children just might do the poor guy in."

        "Yep," Chet nodded with an evil grin. "And that's the beauty of it."

        Roy shook his head at his co-worker as they climbed in their respective vehicles. Rush hour traffic didn't bother the blond headed paramedic that evening as much as it usually did. Each time his car came to a standstill his mind drifted to Chet's words, causing him to laugh as he pictured Johnny getting hit by half a dozen water balloons, cream pies, and flour bombs all in rapid succession.

Chapter 2

        Evan sat at the battered desk in his downtown motel room. He studied the map spread out before him. Gold stars, the kind teachers used to mark an outstanding paper, sparkled up at him from points all across America. Kankakee, Illinois. That's where it had all started when he was nineteen years old. That's where he'd abducted and murdered Kathy Swanson. Two other little girls had died in Kankakee before he'd wised up and realized a man with his desires couldn't stay in one area too long. It was right around that time the local press had dubbed him the Kankakee Killer. It was a dumb name, not one worthy of a master like Evan Joseph Crammer, but then he never had met a newspaper reporter with more than half a brain. They sensationalized and fictionalized whatever was necessary just to sell a story. Well, Evan's deeds didn't need to be sensationalized, and they certainly weren't a work of fiction. The newspaper people, and the cops, were so stupid they didn't even realize that the Kankakee Killer had now spread his work far and wide. The gold stars on Evan's map were proof of that. From Michigan to Maine, New Jersey to Florida, Montana to Texas, Alabama to Ohio, there was hardly a state he'd missed. That was his goal. To leave behind at least one victim in all 50 states. No other serial killer before him had accomplished such a deed. But he would. He knew he would, because he was a classic over achiever. Or so his teachers had always told his parents.

        "Evan is so quiet and studious. And he works so hard. Every paper has to be perfect before he'll turn it in."

        Yes, even as far back as the first grade Evan had taken pride in gold stars. He knew that caused his mother some worry as he grew older. He sat back in the rickety wooden chair and recalled conversations he'd overheard her having with his father when he was in high school.

        "I worry about him, Frank. He doesn't have any friends. At least none that he speaks of or ever brings to the house. And he's never been interested in any outside activities. Not sports, not the Boy Scouts, not the youth group at church. All he wants to do is sit up in his room with the door closed and study."

        Evan smiled when he thought of his father's reply.

        "And studying is a bad thing? Come on, Margaret, the boy's a loner because he's an only child. It's normal for only children to entertain themselves, and to excel in school. By nature they're goal oriented individuals. Mark my words Evan will go far in this world. Why it wouldn't surprise me if our son is someday a Nobel Prize recipient."

        Evan looked down at his map, the stars representing so many miles traveled.

        "Yes, Dad, you were right. I did go far."

        Evan's father had been a psychologist long before the profession was popular. Evan knew it was from his father that he inherited his analytical mind, and his ability to emotionally detach himself from his victims. Not that his father hadn't been a good man, or a good provider, but Evan never felt a connection to him. Never felt even the most remote bond. Maybe that was because his father was a workaholic who had very little time for his only child. All Evan knew as a child was that the best way to please his father was by being a good boy who did well in school and caused little grief while at home. He was probably twelve or thirteen when the first urge to hurt a child surfaced. As he matured that urge grew into sexual fantasies until it became the only way he could be satisfied in a sexual manner. Maybe if he'd had a better relationship with his father he could have talked to the man about these unsettling feelings when they first started. But, then again, maybe not. It made little difference now. His father had died eight years ago. Fittingly enough, Evan's mother found her husband slumped over his desk in his study, his face buried in a textbook. Margaret Crammer sold the house in Champaign, Illinois shortly after her husband's death. She'd moved north, to a swanky Chicago suburb in order to live near her sister. Evan hadn't seen his mother in over a year. He supposed he would soon have to make an effort to visit, but that would have to wait a few more months. He wanted to make his way to Oregon and Washington, two states that held no gold stars. But he was getting ahead of himself because California didn't have any stars yet either.

        Evan smiled as he studied the long state. California covered a lot of territory. There would be a lot of little girls between here and the Oregon border. He could add a lot of gold stars to his map.

        The man gave a satisfied sigh as he stood and walked over to his fourth story window. He looked out the grimy glass at the street below.

        How appropriate. I'm in the City Of Angels, seeking an angel.

        What few little girls Evan saw passing on the sidewalk were dark headed and looked to be of Hispanic descent. At one time the hair color of his victims didn't matter to Evan, but he'd become more fickle in recent years.

        No, no. These will never do. An angel has blond hair. Only blond hair. And blue eyes, though green or hazel do well in a pinch. But as the expression goes, gentlemen prefer blonds.

        Evan knew what he was looking for, and also knew he'd never find it in this section of town. But that was okay. He took a room in this seedy hotel where prostitutes brought their clients because he knew he'd barely be noticed by the perpetually hung over clerk who managed the front desk. Nowadays angels weren't found in the downtown section of any city. Angels were found in the suburbs. And that's exactly where Evan was headed on this Friday afternoon.

         But first he had to return to his map. He had to add a star in Arizona. As he licked it and stuck it atop the town of Sun Grove he muttered, "This one is for you, Heather Gaines. You were a good girl. A sweet girl. And now you're one of Evan's angels."
        

Chapter 3

        Tracy Nichols skipped down the sidewalk. She'd stayed after school at Park Lawn Elementary to help her fourth grade teacher, Miss Hendricks, feed the classroom hamsters, bunnies, and guinea pigs and clean their cages. Tracy adored Miss Hendricks and would miss her when the school year ended. It was April twelfth. School would be out for the year in six short weeks.

        The little girl twirled, dancing in the California sunshine. Her long, pale hair splayed out behind her. There was nothing like a Friday afternoon with no homework. Usually she walked to and from school with her best friends, Patty and Sara, but today they'd gone on without her because it was her turn to help Miss Hendricks with the classroom menagerie.

        Tracy left the sidewalk for the soft grass of the neighborhood park. There were swings, a slide, and a merry-go-round at the far end, but right now they were devoid of any occupants. She crossed the desolate baseball diamond where her brother Jeff played his Little League games on Saturday afternoons.

        The little girl saw the man sitting on the bleachers in the distance. She immediately noticed his policeman's uniform. She kept walking without giving him a second thought. As she got close to where he was sitting he smiled and waved. She smiled back and said politely, "Hello, Officer," like her mother had taught her to do.

        Tracy wondered if the man knew her dad. He was a police officer, too. She thought about asking the stranger that, but she was too shy to start up a conversation with an adult she didn't know. Besides, Tracy was hungry and knew her mother would have a snack waiting for her when she reached home.

        The ten year old gave a cry of startled surprise when she was swooped up from behind. At first she thought the big man was teasing her like some of her father's friends on the police force did whenever they stopped by the house.

        He must know my dad and he's goofing around.

        Tracy felt herself being twirled round and round, her feet flying off to the side. She laughed until she felt the man's right hand clamp over her mouth real tight, while his left elbow encircled her arms and pinned them to her sides. His left hand then nestled in the crotch of her blue jeans.

        Tracy didn't like the feeling she was getting in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't sure what the man was doing or why, but she knew it was wrong. You never touched someone like he was touching her. That wasn't right. Her mother had told her so. It didn't matter if the person was your sister, brother, or uncle. They should never touch you where this man was touching her.

        The man began running for a brown car. Tracy felt herself being bumped up and down in time with his frantic steps. His pace caused his grip on her mouth to loosen. Despite the terror that caused her heart to race, Tracy was clear headed enough to take the only advantage she had. She bit the man's palm as hard as she could. She bit him like she was biting into a meaty piece of Kentucky Fried Chicken and then held on for all she was worth. At the same time she flailed her legs back and forth. Without realizing it the heel of her tennis shoe connected solidly with his groin.

        "Ouch! You little bitch! You'll pay for that!"

        Tracy released the man's hand. She screamed the words her daddy had taught her and Jeff to say if they ever found themselves in a situation like this.

        "Help! Help me! Somebody help me! He's a stranger! He's a stranger! He's not my daddy! Help me!"

        Bill Seitz entered the park by the swing set. He was pulling a red wagon that held his sons, five year old Matthew and three year old Casey. At first he thought the struggling girl he saw in the distance was simply an unruly child being dragged home by her father. But then he heard her terror filled screams, and heard his oldest son say, "Daddy, that's Tracy. How come that man is carrying her?"

        Bill worked the night shift at an automobile factory and lived three doors down from the Nichols family. He didn't know Jeff and Tracy well since they were older than his own two boys, but now that Matthew pointed it out to him he realized the struggling little girl was his neighbor. He also realized the man carrying her wasn't her father.

        "Matt, Casey, stay in the wagon! I'll be right back!"

        Bill took off running. "Hey! Hey, you there! Put her down! I said put that child down!"

        Evan looked up. The man racing toward him commanding him to drop Tracy was slim and fast. Evan knew he could never outrun him. His size gave him an advantage in many situations, but a foot race wasn't one of them. His eyes quickly scanned the area as Tracy continued to struggle in his arms. A car was slowing down, its driver evidently curious as to what was going on. And across the street a woman was watching him while hurrying into her house.

        Oh, shit. She's gonna call the cops. I just know she is.

        "Hey, you there! Put her down!"

        Evan gave one last look at the surrounding area before making a final decision. He tossed Tracy aside like one would discard a rag doll and ran the rest of the way to his car. He'd never taken the key out of the ignition. He turned the key and gunned the engine. The tires squealed and the rear end of the Olds fishtailed as he tore into the street. The car careened around a corner before Bill was able to get the license plate number.

        A woman ran from the car that Evan had noticed, while another came from the house across the street. By this time Bill had the hysterical Tracy in his arms.

        "I've called the police," the homeowner said. "Is she all right?"

        Bill held the little girl against his chest and rocked her while keeping one eye on the boys he'd left in the wagon. "I think so. She's scared more than anything."

        "I don't blame her," the driver of the car stated. "That man was trying to kidnap her."

        "I know."

        Before the adults could say anything else a police cruiser roared to the curb. Tracy's father climbed out from behind the wheel. He'd had no idea what to expect when he arrived at the scene, but seeing his daughter crying into the chest of his neighbor had been the farthest thing from his mind.

        As soon as Tracy recognized the policeman she broke free from Bill. She ran to her father with arms spread wide. She felt herself being lifted into the air. She wrapped her arms around her father's neck and cried, "Oh, Daddy, I was so scared. That man was going to hurt me. I know he was. Oh, Daddy, that man was going to hurt me."

        "Shhh, baby, shhh," Jim Nichols comforted as he rocked his child from side to side. "Shhh. He can't hurt you now. You're safe. He can't hurt you now."

No, he couldn't hurt Tracy now. But as Jim Nichols carried his daughter to the unmarked detective's sedan that had just arrived on the scene, his stomach rolled at the thought of whose little girl the man might hurt before he was caught.

Chapter 4

        At the same time Evan Crammer was attempting to abduct Tracy Nichols, John Gage parked the Land Rover to the immediate right of the main gate of Spring Meadows Elementary School. Chris and Jennifer knew to look for him here. Ten minutes later he heard the bell ring that signaled the end of the school day. He wasn't surprised to see that Chris and Jen were amongst the first pupils out of the building.

        Jennifer's standard greeting never failed to bring that familiar Gage grin to John's face.

        "Uncle Johnny! Uncle Johnny!"

        Johnny bent down and hugged the child who was laden with backpack, lunch box and school books. The hug he gave Chris was no less affectionate, but more of a one-armed manly type exchange that befit a boy of eleven when his friends were nearby.

        "Hi, Uncle Johnny."

        "Hey, Chris. How goes it?"

        "Fine. Except for homework. How come teachers always give homework over the weekends?"

        "To keep kids out of trouble I guess."

        Johnny opened the back of the Land Rover and began loading it with the backpacks he'd given the kids this past Christmas, their school books and lunch boxes.

        "Did homework keep you out of trouble when you were a kid, Uncle Johnny?"

        John looked down into the light blue eyes both Jennifer and her brother had inherited from Roy. He winked at his 'best girl.' "Whatta ya' think?"

        "No, probably not," Jen laughed. "Besides, Daddy says you get in more trouble now than me and Chris put together."

        "Oh, he does, does he?"

        "Yep."

        "Well, it looks like I'm gonna have to duke it out with your old man, huh?"

        Chris and Jen laughed at the thought of their father and Uncle Johnny getting into a fist fight. They'd heard their father say many times that Uncle Johnny was the brother he'd never had, and Uncle Johnny had told them the same thing once. That their father was the brother he'd never had. Though they knew the two men had an occasional spat, just like Chris and Jennifer had occasional spats, they also knew their father and Uncle Johnny were best friends.

        Chris sat in the passenger seat next to John while Jen climbed in on the driver's side behind him. When everyone had buckled their seat belts Johnny pulled away from the curb. It would take a little over an hour to reach the ranch with traffic.

        "How about if we drive for a while and then stop for an early supper, guys?"

        Chris's stomach was like that of most eleven year old boys, a bottomless pit. "Great. How about pizza?"

        "Pizza's fine with me." John looked into the rearview mirror. "What about you, Jenny Bean? Is pizza okay?"

        Jennifer smiled at the nickname Johnny had called her from almost the very first day he met her. "Pizza's okay as long as you guys keep the mushrooms on your own side."

        "We can do that," Johnny acknowledged.

        As he pulled onto the freeway Jennifer rolled her window down. She laid her head sideways so strands of her long, honey blond hair could fly out the window as the Land Rover made its way toward Johnny's ranch.

_____________________________

        By eight o'clock that night Johnny and his guests were settled in his house.
After the Land Rover had been unloaded Chris and Jennifer had changed into their 'chore clothes' as they referred to them. They'd helped Johnny feed and water all the animals, then Jennifer climbed into the hay mow to play with the kittens while Chris dug for worms so he and John could fish the next day. When darkness started to fall John announced it was time to go into house. The trio was leaving by horseback right after sunrise in the morning. The trip up the mountain to their favorite camping spot would take three hours. They'd stay through lunchtime on Sunday, then head back down.
        
        Johnny and his guests entered the side door that opened into the utility room. There a dirty rancher, or fireman, could shed his clothes and make use of the sink that sat next to the washer. Or he could enter the hallway, take a sharp left, and be in a small bathroom that included a shower stall. John directed Chris to that shower stall now. Once the bathroom door closed he led Jennifer the opposite way down the hall. They entered the big, homey kitchen that curved into a dining area and great room. John had owned the ranch for three years now, and put any extra money he had into making improvements. The interior of the house had been transformed by Johnny's own hands. Oak hard wood floors had replaced old, worn carpeting. Knotty pine paneling had gone up on the walls in the great room, kitchen and dining area giving a person the feeling he'd walked into a home on a vast Montana spread. Sliding patio doors opened from the dining room onto a deck that faced the back yard and barn. Windows banked the south and west walls of the great room, running from the floor to the ceiling. A stone fireplace made up the east wall. A tan couch, two brown La-z-y Boy recliners, two end tables that held lamps, a TV set and a stereo rounded out the room's decor along with the big multi-colored braided rug that lay in the middle of the floor and a few works of Indian art on the walls.

        Jen walked through the great room with Johnny behind her carrying her backpack. They entered another hallway that contained two big bedrooms and a full bathroom. Johnny would sleep in his bedroom while Jen slept in the one across the hall. Chris would bunk on the floor in Johnny's room. As with the rest of the house, the wood paneled bedrooms had a decidedly western feel to them in both their decor and earth color schemes.

        Like her brother had been, Jennifer was instructed to take a shower and put on her pajamas. She shut the bathroom door and was soon busy doing what Uncle Johnny requested of her. John could hear the water running as he put a pillow and two blankets on the floor for Chris. He returned to the kitchen where the kids had left their schoolbooks on the table. He took a plate from one of the cabinets and placed half a dozen Oreo cookie on it. Chris appeared soon after that with neatly combed wet hair and wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a blue Los Angeles Dodgers T-shirt just like the one Johnny had on. The blond boy sat down to a snack of cookies and milk. While he ate John said, "You start on that homework when you're done eating. We're not leaving in the morning unless you have it finished."

        "Aw, Uncle Johnny, come on. It's Friday night."

        "Sorry, Sport, but that's the breaks. By the time I get you home on Sunday it'll be six or after. You're not gonna feel like doing homework then, so you
better get it done now."

        "Does Jen have to do hers, too?"

        "Yep. As soon as she's out of the shower I'll get her started on it."

        Even though the idea of doing homework on a Friday night didn't appeal to Christopher DeSoto, at least he had the assurance that his sister would be suffering right along with him.

        Jen padded barefooted through the great room five minutes later dressed in white pajamas adorned with big yellow sunflowers. She handed a brush to the dark haired paramedic.

        "Uncle Johnny, can you get the tangles out of my hair?"

        "Sure, Peanut. Come here."

        John pulled a chair away from the table. Jennifer turned her back to him and leaned against his thigh.

        Peanut was another nickname Johnny had given Jennifer not long after meeting her. But because of that she had a nickname for him in return she faithfully used whenever he referred to her as such.

        "Be careful, Walnut. If you pull on those tangles it'll hurt my head."

With mock indignantly Johnny asked, "In all the years I've done this for you have I ever hurt your head?"

        "No. But there's always a first time."

        The man laughed as he carefully brushed Jennifer's hair until it lay smooth and flat against her back. When he was finished he set the brush on the counter, poured both Jennifer and himself a glass of milk, added more cookies to the plate, and sat at the table with the kids. He supervised homework for the next half hour. In-between that project he reached behind himself and picked up the phone. He dialed Roy's number. His partner answered on the second ring. When Roy heard Johnny's voice he yelled for Joanne to pick up the extension in the master bedroom.

        "So, how goes it?" Roy asked.

        "Fine. Your kids are fed, clean, and doing their homework as we speak."

        "Homework? On a Friday night?"

        "Yep. No homework, no camping trip."

        Joanne's voice came across the line. "Uncle Johnny, you're a miracle worker. I've never been able to get either of those children to crack a book on a Friday night."

        "Guess you just gotta know the secret, Joanne."

        "I guess so. Or own horses and promise a weekend camping trip."
        "That works, too."

        Roy smiled when he heard Chris ask Johnny a question about a math problem, and in return heard Johnny give the boy a few pointers in resolving it.

        "Sorry," John apologized for his attention diversion. "Here, let me have the kids talk to you."

        Johnny handed the phone to Jennifer. She told her parents about her day in school, then replied, "I will," "Okay," and "Huh uh," to a series of instructions that Johnny assumed told her to be good, be careful, and to behave herself.

        Chris got on the phone next. He didn't talk nearly as long about his school day as Jennifer had, but then Johnny didn't expect that he would. He was so much like Roy. You wouldn't exactly call either one of the DeSoto men reserved, but neither you call them outgoing or accuse them of being chatterboxes. Chris, too, gave an, "I will," "Okay," and, "Huh uh," before handing the phone back to Johnny.

        "Anything else?" Johnny questioned both Roy and Joanne.

        "Nope," Roy replied. "Except thanks again for taking them."

        "Yes, thank you, Johnny. Thank you, thank you, thank you. As much as I love my children, each and every year you give Roy and me the best anniversary present a couple could receive."

        "My pleasure. Besides, the great thing about this anniversary gift is that it doesn't cost me any money."

        Joanne laughed, while Johnny pictured Roy rolling his eyes. The paramedic held the phone receiver towards the kids.

        "Okay, guys, one the count of three say goodnight to your folks and wish them a happy anniversary. One, two, three!"

        In perfect unison Roy and Joanne heard Chris, Jennifer and Johnny yell, "Good night, Mom and Dad! Happy Anniversary! Don't do anything Uncle Johnny wouldn't do!"

        Joanne was still laughing when Roy appeared from the living room. He was shaking his head and smiling. "I can only hope our children have no idea what that last statement means."

        "I doubt they do, Mr. DeSoto. I'll tell you, that partner of yours is something else."

        "Don't I know it."

        Roy threw himself belly down onto the king size bed. Joanne rolled onto her side, propped herself up on one elbow, and using her other hand began to massage her husband's back through his shirt.

        "It's hard to believe Johnny's been your partner for over six years now. I don't know where the time has gone. Jennifer was so little when you two started working together she doesn't remember when Uncle Johnny wasn't a part of the family."

        "No, I don't suppose she does," Roy agreed, as his wife began to undress him. "You're right, it is hard to believe that many years have passed."

        "I'll never forget the first time you invited him to dinner. He was so quiet. I thought he was the shyest man I'd ever met."

        "Johnny?" Roy laughed. "Shy?"

        "I know, I know. It didn't take me long to realize the words 'shy' and 'John Gage' don't go together in the same sentence. I suppose he was just trying to get a feel for me before unleashing his true personality."

        "I suppose. God knows that's a personality that should be unleashed slowly and over the course of several weeks."

        Joanne gave her husband's shoulder blade a gentle slap. "Roy Walker DeSoto, hush. You wouldn't know what to do without that crazy partner of yours. He brings out the best in you, and you bring out the best in him."

        "So I've been told before."

        "By whom?"

        "Dixie for one. Kelly Brackett for another."

        "Well, they're right. You two are like brothers. Exchanging sharp words one minute over some silly thing, then going off fishing together the next. I don't know what I'd do without either one of you. My husband and his partner, my third child."

        Roy rolled onto his back. He lifted Joanne from the bed and settled her on top of him. He raised his head, his lips making contacting with hers.

        "That's enough talk about my partner and your third child. Though I'm starting our celebration two days early, allow me to say happy anniversary, Mrs. DeSoto."

        As Roy slipped his hands inside Joanne's shirt she ground her hips against his and moaned, "Two days early is nice. Very nice. And happy anniversary to you, too, Mr. DeSoto. Happy anniver,....."

        Joanne wasn't able to utter any more words as her husband began to make love to her. Without the kids in the house she knew this was going to be one, long passionate weekend like she and Roy hadn't seen since their last anniversary. Right at this very moment, more than ever, she was thankful her husband had a partner as thoughtful as John Gage.

Chapter 5

        God, that little girl had made him furious. Geez, but the bitch pissed him off!

        Evan threw clothes and supplies into a backpack. He had to get away from this god-forsaken city. He had to lie low for a while. Who knew how good of a description the cops got from both the girl and the guy who had come running to her rescue.

Evan tossed a roll of bills on the desk as he flew by the glassy eyed clerk. His brown Oldsmobile was gone. He'd traded it off two hours after his botched kidnapping attempt. Now he was driving a 1971 white Chevy pickup.

It was early on Saturday morning and the streets in this section of the city were deserted. Evan didn't care. Although his groin ached at the thought of the little girl who had gotten away, there'd be more. Yes, there would most certainly be more. Someone was going to pay for what that bitch had done to him. The next little girl was going to know that he, Evan Joseph Crammer, was not a man to be messed with.

        He threw the truck into gear and headed for the distant mountains. He'd camp for a few days, then maybe head up to San Francisco. There were so many weirdoes living there now that it might take days, even weeks, for anyone to notice a missing child.

        Camping. He'd always loved to camp. That was another thing his father never did with him. There had been woods behind the house he'd grown up in, but his father never joined him on his sojourns there. Oh well, he supposed that was all for the best. By the time he was fourteen that's where he was keeping the magazines filled with child pornography. That's where he'd raped his first victim. And then his second, and then his third. He didn't kill those girls though. He'd still been in high school.

        Yes, camping was nice. It brought back a lot of fond memories. It helped him relax. Helped him think. And most of all, it helped him plan.

Chapter 6

        
        At seven o'clock on Saturday morning Johnny, Chris, and Jennifer were headed up a rugged mountain trail behind John's ranch. Johnny's Alaskan Malamute, Chief Joseph, walked along beside his master's horse. Joe, as he was more commonly called, was a majestic dog with white and black fur that people often mistook for a wolf. Johnny laughed at that thought. His gentle Joe wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone a person. He'd received the dog as a birthday gift from Roy, Joanne, and the kids a few months after he'd purchased the ranch. He knew a dog like Joe didn't come cheap. When he'd tried to tell Roy that Roy had waved a hand and gave a brusque, "Don't ask me why, but Joanne and the kids think you're worth it, Junior." Some months later Johnny accidentally found out who really thought he was worth a dog that cost somewhere in the neighborhood of three hundred dollars. He overheard Chet talking to Roy in the fire station locker room.

        "I was out at Gage's this weekend and saw the puppy you and Joanne gave him. Geez, is that a beautiful dog. He must have cost you a fortune, Roy."

        "He didn't come cheap," Roy admitted. "But Johnny mentioned one time that his family always had Malamutes when he was growing up. And you know how isolated it is out where he lives. I just thought he should have a dog. If nothing else someone will think twice about nosing around the place, or trying to break in the house, with Joe there."

        "I suppose. But why didn't you just get a mutt from the pound? Wouldn't have cost you nearly as much, and woulda' given Gage the same results."

        "Probably. But Johnny's always doing things for me. He takes the kids whenever Joanne and I are in a bind and need a babysitter, he's always coming over to help me with some project around the house, and last year when I got hurt in that factory fire Joanne told me he was a God-send. She said she doesn't know how she would have gotten through those first few days when I was in Intensive Care without Johnny at her side. So, since I don't really have the words to tell Johnny how much he means to my family, I figured Joe was the next best way."

        John almost fainted that day when he heard Chet's reply.

        "Yeah, Gage is a good friend. The kinda guy you want by your side when life hands you shit. But if you ever tell him I said that the Phantom will start visiting your locker on a regular basis."

        Roy laughed. "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

        Whatever other words were exchanged between the two Johnny didn't hear. He walked away after that, going to the kitchen and drinking a glass of milk in an effort to get rid of the lump in his throat.

        Johnny and Joe brought up the rear of the procession as he and Roy's children traveled up the mountain. Chris was first, riding atop a big bay gelding named Cheyenne. Jennifer rode in-between her brother and uncle on a small, gentle mare with soulful eyes Johnny had named Niabi, which in the Waupun language meant fawn. Johnny himself rode a deep chestnut gelding with four black socks. He'd named the horse Odakota, meaning friend. Odakota had long ago had his name shortened to Cody by Jennifer, which seemed to suit both the horse and his master just fine.

        "Yuma looked sad when we left him behind this morning," Jennifer commented about the other gelding Johnny owned. "I wish he could have come, too."

        "So do I," Johnny said. He'd originally been planning to use Yuma as a pack animal, but the horse had turned up lame the other day from a stone bruise. John knew the only way for Yuma to heal was to allow him to rest, which meant no long trips carrying bedrolls and saddle bags on his back. "But Yuma's leg is still hurting him so he has to stay behind."

        "I hope Mrs. Gage and her kittens keep him company."

        Johnny rolled his eyes at the name Chet Kelly had given the pregnant cat striped in shades of gray and black who had turned up in the barn one morning this past January.

        "I'm sure Mrs. Gage and her little family will do just that."

        "Uncle Johnny, can I name the kittens before Chris and I leave?"

        "Sure. You can even take one home with you."

        Before Jennifer could voice her excitement over that prospect Chris turned around in the saddle. "Dad will never let her keep it. He doesn't like animals in the house. Besides, they leave hair everywhere and make messes, too."

        "Chris, have I ever told you you're getting to be more and more like your father everyday?"

        "Huh?"

        Johnny smiled at the boy but didn't answer. He spun his right index finger in a circle. "Turn around and keep your eyes on the trail. Remember what I told you about looking behind you when you're on a horse."

        Chris nodded and did as Johnny said. You could be hit in the head by a tree branch if you weren't paying attention to where you were going, or your horse could stumble in a hole and send you tumbling head over heels.

        Other than occasional comments from Jennifer, nothing much was said for the next hour as the trio traveled in a single file line. Johnny knew Chris loved the outdoors. He smiled as he watched the boy take in every leaf, rock and blade of grass, and crane his head to look for every bird he heard chirp. When they'd been riding for an hour and a half they came to a flat spot in the trail. Johnny told the kids to bring their horses to a halt. He climbed off Cody then walked to Jennifer's side. He lifted her from the saddle and set her firmly on the ground.

        "Hey, what's with the cowboy boots, Peanut?" he teased. "My little Indian Princess should be in nothing but moccasins."

        Jen pointed to Johnny's own cowboy boots. "What about you, Walnut? My Wise Old Indian Uncle should be in nothing but moccasins, too."

        Johnny gently tugged on a strand of Jennifer's hair. "Your Wise Old Indian Uncle doesn't want to risk stepping on a snake while wearing nothing but a flimsy piece of deer hide."

        Chris smiled as he looped Cheyenne's reins around a low tree branch. He did the same thing with Niabi's reins, while Johnny secured Cody and Joe snooped around the nearby trees.

        "Chet says you're afraid of snakes, Uncle Johnny."

        "Well, Christopher Roy, like most things where Chet Kelly is concerned, he's full of hot air."

        "I remember when you were bit by that rattler," Chris said. "You didn't look too good the day Dad brought me to see you in the hospital."

        "I suppose I didn't. I wasn't feeling too good, either."

        "So I guess something like that could make anyone afraid of snakes."

        John sat down on a nearby log, though not without checking the surrounding area first. All this talk of snakes was making him a bit more cautious than normal. He held out a canteen of water to Jennifer as she sat down next him. Chris settled in on John's other side.

        "You know, Chris, everyone is afraid of something. Admitting fear doesn't make you less of a man."

        "It doesn't?"

        "No. If being afraid of something simply makes you cautious there's nothing wrong with that, provided you don't let that fear rule your life."

        "You mean like the way you were cautious about looking around for snakes just now before we sat down, but even so that didn't keep you from wanting to go camping?"

        "Yep. Just like that."

        Chris smiled the same teasing smile Roy possessed when he'd trapped John into admitting something he didn't want to. "So I guess Chet's right, huh? You are afraid of snakes."

        Johnny pulled Chris to his side and gently roughhoused with him a long moment. "Chet might be right, but if I ever find out you repeated this conversation to him you will be one sorry kid."

        Chris laughed, then gave Johnny a quick hug under the guise of wrestling hold before pulling away. When he was younger he was as free with his affection as Jennifer, but now that he was almost twelve he knew boys didn't go around hugging people at the drop of a hat. That was okay for girls to do, but not boys. Especially not boys who were in the sixth grade.

        Jennifer passed the canteen to Johnny who handed it to Chris.
        "Uncle Johnny, how come Chet likes to tease you so much?"

        "I don't know. He just does."

        "Daddy says it's 'cause Chet is your friend, but he doesn't know how else to show it."

        "Your dad says that, huh?"

        "Yep. He told me that when I got mad at Chet. It was that time when all of you were at our house and Chet wouldn't leave you alone, and then the other guys from the station started teasing you, too."

        Johnny remembered the incident. It had happened two summers ago. What Chet was teasing him about specifically Johnny could no longer recall, just typical Chet Kelly stuff. The other guys were joining in, having a good laugh at Johnny's expense. But right in the middle of one of Chet's barbs Jennifer stomped over to the man and yelled, "Leave Uncle Johnny alone! You're always mean to him! Now I've had enough of it and I want it to stop!"

        John didn't know who was more shocked at the seven year old's outburst; himself, Roy, Joanne, or Chet. Just as Roy yelled, "Jennifer Lynn!," followed by Joanne's, "Jennifer, I will not tolerate that type of behavior!" the little girl burst into tears and ran for her room. Of course Roy and Joanne were mortified by what she'd done and couldn't apologize enough to the red faced Chet. The other guys thought the whole incident was funny and ribbed Chet to death over it. And even though Johnny had the perfect opportunity to join in the teasing, he didn't. He was too touched by what Jennifer had done.

        While Roy and Joanne attempted to salvage their backyard cookout Johnny slipped off to Jennifer's room unnoticed. There he found the girl lying face down on her bed, crying. He sat beside her, rubbing a hand over her back.

        "Jen, don't cry. Come on, Jenny Bean, it's not that bad."

        The sobbing child turned on her side. She drew her knees up to her stomach. "He made me so mad. I'm never gonna call him 'uncle' again. None of those guys, I don't care what Mommy and Daddy say about it. I'm never gonna call any of them uncle 'cause they're not my uncles. Only you are, Uncle Johnny. Only you."

        "Jennifer, Chet was just teasing me. He does it all the time. Just like Chris teases you."

        "Maybe so. But Chet doesn't know when to stop. He just keeps going, and going, and going."

        Johnny laughed. "Tell me about it, Peanut."

        Jennifer had wiped an arm across her tear streaked face as she rolled to her back. She did her best to sound brave. "Daddy will spank me for what I did, but it doesn't matter."

        "Well, it matters to me. I don't want you to get a spanking for defending my honor. But you know what you did was wrong, don't you?"

        "I...I...yes, I know," Jennifer had whispered in a tiny voice.

        "It's okay to tell someone when they've made you angry, but you can't yell at an adult, Jen. I know your mom and dad have taught you better than that, haven't they?"

        Jennifer gave a reluctant nod.

        "I've got an idea though."

        "You do?"

        "Yep. How about if I take you outside and you apologize to Chet and the rest of the guys. Once that's done I think your mom and dad will calm down. If they're still upset with you after that I'll talk to them."

        "That might work. But I don't really want to go out there. I...I know I shouldn't have done what I did."

        Now that her anger was passing, Johnny knew the girl was embarrassed by her actions.

        "That's the price you pay when you say things you shouldn't, Jenny Bean. But there's only one way to make it right, and that's by apologizing." John picked the girl up off the bed. "Now come on. Let's wash your face, get you a Kleenex, then go outside and get the hard stuff over with. Once all that's done you'll feel better."

        "I'll only feel better if you can promise me Daddy won't spank me."

        Johnny had looked to the open door that day where Roy and Joanne were standing out of Jennifer's line of vision. He raised an inquiring eyebrow at his partner. Roy was still angry with his daughter, but he nodded his head.

        John smiled at the seven year old. "I promise."

        "Wow, Uncle Johnny, are you a wizard or something? Do you really know for certain I won't get a spanking?"

        "Yes, I really know for certain. And yes, it's because I'm a wizard."

        John thought he could hear Joanne stifle her laughter, but he wasn't certain. By the time he stepped into the hallway with Jennifer there was no sign of Roy or his wife.

        Johnny was brought back to the present by Chris nudging his side.

        "Here, Uncle Johnny. Here's the canteen."

        "Oh. Oh, thanks."

        John took a long swallow, then stood. He recapped the canteen and hung it over Cody's saddle horn.

        "Come on, kids, let's go for a short hike to stretch our legs."

        Jennifer walked over to Niabi and took a cloth sack from one of her saddle bags. "Will you help me collect some more leaves and rocks for my science project, Uncle Johnny?"

        "You bet." Johnny held out his hand to the girl while he whistled for Joe. When the dog appeared he said to his charges, "Come on. Let's see what we can find."

_____________________________

        Thirty minutes later the trio were back in their saddles. Jennifer had found some rocks and leaves for her project that were now securely tucked away in her saddlebags. Chris had to complete the same project the year he was in the third grade. Uncle Johnny had helped him, too, and had even come to the school and talked to Chris's class about Native American ways and traditions. Chris's teacher had been so impressed that when she got Jennifer for a student this year one of the first things she asked the little girl was, "Is Mr. Gage still your daddy's partner?"

        When Jennifer said yes Mrs. Byron told her they'd have to be sure to have Mr. Gage come talk to the class like he'd done when Chris was her student.
That event was to take place next Friday, and Jennifer couldn't be more excited.
The boys would be impressed by Uncle Johnny's stories, and the girls would think Uncle Johnny was cute. Jennifer already knew this last part was a given because her father and Uncle Johnny had talked to the class in November about what it was like to be a paramedic.

        Jennifer's hair blew in the gentle breeze as her horse climbed the now steep trail. She knew exactly where they were going. She'd camped here before with her brother, father, and Johnny. There was a flat clearing surrounded by trees on three sides. A fast running wide mountain stream would be to the north of their campsite. They'd put the soda and juice Uncle Johnny had brought along in the stream to keep it cold. Chris and Uncle Johnny would fish there, while Jennifer waded and romped with Joe. The little girl thought of all the fun that was to come as they traveled, and then before she knew it they were making camp.
        While Chris gathered rocks and firewood Johnny and Jennifer unloaded bedrolls and saddlebags. John removed the saddles from the horses next, then led the animals to the stream. He tied them to the same low bushes he always made use of when they camped here. The horses were able to reach the water, while at the same time were afforded shade from the canopy of trees overhead.

        The kids carried juice bottles and six-pack cans of pop to the creek next. They'd camped enough with Uncle Johnny to have the routine memorized. Once their little camp was set up they made quick work of eating some of the sandwiches John had made at six o'clock that morning. After their Oreo cookies were washed down with cans of soda, Johnny and Chris grabbed their fishing poles and the Blue Bonnet container of worms Chris had brought along. Jennifer and Joe trotted along behind the pair. As they settled down to fish Jen sat on a rock and removed her boots and socks. She rolled the legs of her jeans up to her knees, then waded into the cool water. Johnny's dog soon joined her. Jennifer splashed Chief Joseph as he rolled and played. He splashed her back, or so it seemed to the nine year old every time the dog brought his front paws down hard in the water while giving her a joyous bark.

        Johnny kept one eye on Jen and one eye on his bobber. Two hours later Chris and Johnny had a nice collection of fish in Styrofoam bucket filled with water from the stream. John called Jennifer back to dry ground.

        "Look, Jenny Bean. Supper."

        "Mmmm. Fried fish," Jennifer closed her eyes and rubbed her stomach.
"I love it."

        Johnny laughed. "I know you do. And since your brother and I are A-number one fishermen, we won't have to eat peanut butter sandwiches for supper."

        "We'll even have enough fish for breakfast," Chris said. "Did you bring potatoes?"

        "I sure did. We'll bake a few tonight over the fire, and fry a few in the morning. How's that sound, Christopher Roy?"

        "Like my favorite thing to eat in the whole wide world."

        Johnny tousled the boy's hair. "You're nothing but an old mountain man, aren't you."

        "Yep. I'd love to live up here. This is great. It sure beats having neighbors on either side of you. And across the street."

        "You're right. It sure does."

        Chris walked beside Johnny as they headed back to their campsite. Jennifer skipped along a few feet ahead of them, carrying her boots and socks in one hand.

        "Is that why you bought your ranch, Uncle Johnny? So you didn't have to put up with neighbors?"

        "Not really. Or at least I never gave it much thought at the time. I bought the ranch because it reminded me a little bit of the ranch I grew up on in Montana. Only that one is a lot bigger than mine. And besides having horses, my father raises beef cattle, too."

        The kids started asking Johnny questions then about what it was like growing up on a two thousand acre ranch, something they, as children of the Los Angeles suburbs, couldn't begin to imagine. The trio was so engrossed in conversation none of them noticed the man silently watching from the thick cover of the woods. Joe picked up the unfamiliar scent and headed toward the trees, but Johnny called him back. The dog hesitated a brief second, then obeyed when his master called his name a second time.

        The observer's eyes never left the child who was now holding onto John Gage's left hand.

        A blond angel. Oh, Lord, a little blond angel. Maybe Los Angeles really will be my City Of Angels after all.
        

Chapter 7

        About the time John Gage and the Desoto children were making camp was just about when Roy and Joanne were getting out of bed. Joanne didn't know when the last time was she'd slept until noon. She hadn't even done that when she and Roy had gone to Carmel the previous year.

        Joanne kissed her husband's tousled head. He let out a low groan, but didn't move. Not that she could blame him. They'd been quite...active during the night. They'd been married for fourteen years but still acted like honeymooners when given the opportunity. She hoped the passion they felt for each other in every sense that word encompassed never faded with time.

        The petite brunette belted her robe around her naked body, closed the door quietly behind her, and headed down the stairs. Sun streamed in through the windows as Joanne opened the living room draperies, then lifted the shades in the kitchen and breakfast nook. She turned on the thirteen inch television that was tucked beneath a kitchen cabinet. She flipped the channel until she found an old black and white Katharine Hepburn/Spencer Tracy film.

        Ah, perfect for a Saturday afternoon.

        Joanne only half watched the TV as she went about making breakfast. Eggs were scrambled in a bowl, then shredded cheese and diced ham left over from Thursday night's supper were added. By the time Roy appeared in his bathrobe the coffee was finished, the table set, the toast buttered, and the ham and cheese omelet ready to come out of the Teflon frying pan.

        Roy kissed his wife's temple as he reached for the coffee mugs. He filled two with the steaming hot liquid then walked to the table. He helped Joanne finish bringing the food over, then turned the TV around so she could see it as she ate.

        The woman smiled at her husband's consideration. She really didn't care about the movie. She'd seen it a dozen times, if not more. But sometimes having the small things acknowledged by your mate was better than all the diamonds money could buy.

        Like any couple who were a day shy of being married fourteen years and the parents of two children, the conversation soon traveled to Chris and Jennifer.

        "I hope the kids are behaving for Johnny."

        Roy cut into his omelet while taking a sip of coffee. "When have you ever known our kids not to behave for their Uncle Johnny?"

        "Never. But do you think he'd tell us if they didn't?"

        Roy smiled. "Probably not. He'd just handle the problem himself. If there's one thing John Gage hates, it's a tattle tale."

        Joanne thought about her husband's partner for a long minute. As though Roy wasn't fully aware of it, she announced, "Johnny will be thirty-two at the end of August."

        "Yeah. So?"

        "Do you think he'll ever get married?"

        "I don't know. Kinda hard for me to picture, that's for sure. Johnny's not exactly the type to make a long-term commitment."

        "Oh, I think you're wrong about that. Dead wrong."

        Roy raised an eyebrow as he took a bite of toast.

        "John Gage is no stranger to commitment. He might lead you to believe that, he might even want you to believe that, but look at how dedicated he is to his job. And to us. And to our kids. And to any other friend he has. If Johnny says he's going to be somewhere, or do something, then he makes good on those promises. And look how committed he is to his ranch and his animals."

        "Well...yeah, he has matured quite a bit in the last few years. I mean, in some ways he still had a lot of kid in him when I first met him."

        "He still does have a lot of kid in him. And I hope he never loses that quality. That's part of what makes him John Gage. But still...look at how he loves to be with Chris and Jen. He's so good with them. So patient. And he seems to understand what each one of them needs from him as an individual. He doesn't try to lump them together and expect the same reactions from them to any given situation. Usually only a parent attains that kind of skill level with their kids. It makes sense that Johnny and Jennifer get along as well as they do. They're kindred spirits, as my Grandmother Mason would have said. Jen's outgoing and happy-go-lucky just like Johnny."

        "And like my wife," Roy added with a smile.

        "That, too," Joanne acknowledged. "But Chris is far more reserved. Like his father," Joanne gave her husband an affectionate look, "he's a deep thinker who doesn't always reveal how he's feeling. Yet Johnny never pushes him, or expects Chris to be the life of the party like Jen is. Whatever activities he's doing with the kids he makes certain that somehow, they both have their needs met."

        "So where are you going with this conversation?"

        Joanne shrugged as she began to eat her own breakfast. "No where, I guess. Other than to say I think Johnny will make some woman a great husband some day and some little boy or girl a wonderful father. I just hope he doesn't allow that opportunity to pass him by."

        "Jo, whatever Johnny wants out of life Johnny will go after. Believe me, if he wants to get married then someday that will happen. Just don't hold your breath, because I'm not sure John Gage is the marrying kind. The charming, flirtatious bachelor kind, yes. But the marrying kind...well, I have my doubts."

        "Maybe he's afraid."

        "Afraid of what? Women?" Roy laughed. "If there's one thing John Roderick Gage isn't afraid of it's women."

        "No, not women. But...something." Joanne stabbed her fork in the air for emphasis. "I don't know what. I can't put my finger on it. But something. Sometimes...when he looks at us, and sees how happy we are, there's sorrow in his eyes, Roy. A sorrow that says he wants to have what we have, but he's afraid to go out and get it for fear it will be taken away from him."

        "Oh, Joanne, for crying out loud, I think you've been watching too much Donahue. That sounds exactly like the kind of psycho babble Johnny would laugh at."

        "Well, he can laugh all he wants. And so can you. But I think it's true."

        Roy just shook his head at his wife as he finished his breakfast. He started rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher while Joanne ate. Five minutes later Roy cleared his wife's empty plate from the table. While she drank the rest of her coffee he started the dishwasher cycling, then wiped off the countertops, stove, and table. He was hanging the dishrag and dishtowel back on their rack when he felt his wife's arms wrap around his waist. He turned and kissed her.

        "How about a hot shower?" Joanne offered.

        "Together?"

        "Yes," the woman chuckled. "Together. It's not exactly something we can do when the kids are here."

        "No, not exactly." Roy ran his hands through his wife's hair as he nuzzled her neck. "So what gave you this idea? Hepburn and Tracy?"

        "Well, they are a hot couple, you know."

        "Not as hot as us."

        Joanne took her husband by the hand. She shut the TV off without either her or Roy noticing that a news bulletin had just interrupted the Saturday Afternoon Movie Classic. The story featured another Tracy. Tracy Nichols. The reporter told about her near abduction and showed a police artist's sketch of the man who tried to kidnap her from Hollendale Park. Though Roy and Joanne lived seven miles from the park, they would be familiar with the neighborhood because Chris occasionally played Little League games there.

        "Police are cautioning all parents to keep a close eye on their children. The man was last seen driving away from the park in a brown four door Oldsmobile. At this point the suspect is at large and could be anywhere in the Los Angeles area."

         Perhaps if Roy and Joanne had seen the news flash Roy would have headed up to where Johnny and the kids were camping. But then again, perhaps not. It was not; however, a question that could be pondered since Roy DeSoto and his wife were making love in the shower while the Channel 7 newswoman was cautioning parents to know where their children were on this bright, sunny, Saturday afternoon in the City Of Angels.

Chapter 8

        The fish were swimming in their bucket of cold water when Chris, Jennifer and Johnny started out on an afternoon hike. Joe bounded ahead of the campers, already knowing where they were headed.

        The moss covered cave was almost impossible to spot unless you had camped up here as much as John Gage had. He'd discovered it the previous summer when Roy and the kids were with him. Though it wasn't more than five feet high, twenty feet wide, and thirty feet long, the kids were enthralled by it.

        Johnny had held a Pow Wow in it the first day they'd found it. Or at least that's what Chris and Jennifer had called the 'meeting' they had with their dad and Uncle Johnny in the cave that day of discovery. Since then they returned to what Chris and Jen had christened, The Pow Wow Cave, each time they came up here camping.

        Jennifer gathered leaves, roots, and berries as they traveled, but not with the intention of using them for her school project. Chris picked up a large, flat rock along the way and a sturdy stick, knowing exactly what his sister had in mind.

        When they reached the cave Johnny pushed the hanging moss aside. He swept the cavern with his flashlight, then walked all the way through while the kids and Joe waited outside. Jennifer and Chris knew their uncle was making certain no animals or reptiles had taken up residence in the cave since the last time they'd visited. When John was satisfied their haven was unoccupied he allowed children and dog to enter.

        Johnny smiled as he watched the kids sit together on the cave's cool floor and make different colors of paint from the items Jennifer had collected. The first time they'd done this the children had referred to it as war paint. Johnny had corrected them with a shake of his head. "No. Not necessarily."

        "Why?" Chris had asked. "I thought all paint Indians used was called war paint."

        "Only if it's red and black, Chris. And then only amongst certain tribes. Kind of like your school colors."

        Chris nodded his understanding.

        "Now, amongst the Waupun green paint signifies earth. Blue the sky and the waters. Orange friendship. Purple means brothers."

        The kids helped Johnny mix the right colors that day. Even Roy had been fascinated by how his partner could get the brilliant colors he described out of nothing more than a few handfuls of berries, leaves, and roots.

        Chris and Jennifer had enjoyed painting their father's and uncle's faces, then their own. As they sat in a circle in the cave Johnny told them more about the Waupun traditions he'd been taught by his paternal grandfather throughout his childhood. Later, after they'd made their way back to camp, John and Roy bent to wash their faces off in the stream while the kids gathered wood for their supper fire.

        As the two men stood John put a hand on Roy's arm in order to stop his progress toward their campsite.


        "If you don't want me to tell the kids about my heritage, about the things my grandfather taught me when I was growing up, I won't."

        Puzzlement had been plain to hear in Roy's tone. "Why would I not want you to tell them?"

        "Well...I know some people think Indians are nothing more than believers in the supernatural and spirit world. I don't want you or Joanne to think I'm trying to influence the kids to go against what they're being taught at home."

        "You mean Christianity?"

        "Yeah. Exactly."

        "Johnny, I believe there's room in this world for many beliefs, cultures, and opinions. I want my kids to grow up believing that, too. I also want them to grow up knowing that white Protestants aren't the only people who exist, or have the right to exist. I know you'd never tell the kids anything Joanne and I would disapprove of. I also know you'd never try to influence their beliefs in a way we wouldn't approve of. You have too much respect for us to do that."

        "You're right," Johnny nodded. "I do. Which is why I asked the question I did."

        "Well, you didn't have to. You teach the kids all you want to about Native Americans. Their lives will only be richer for having this opportunity."

        John smiled, grateful that he could share some of what he'd been taught with two children who were genuinely interested in the life he'd lived growing up on and around an Indian Reservation. "Thanks." As he walked with Roy to their camping area that afternoon he added, "And just so you know, I can sing a pretty mean rendition of Jesus Loves Me and can probably still recite a multitude of Bible verses."


        At Roy's startled look Johnny laughed.

        "Yes, my paternal grandfather was an Indian. But my maternal grandmother was most definitely not. She was Baptist. A very white, very Southern Baptist. I loved her as much as I loved my grandfather, but for different reasons of course. If nothing else they both were a big part of helping me learn to live within two very opposite cultures."

        Even after all their years working twenty-four hour shifts together John Gage never ceased to surprise Roy. John chuckled now as he thought back to that day the previous July. Jennifer stopped the movement of her fingers on his sharp cheekbones.

        "Uncle Johnny, don't laugh. You'll ruin my lines."

        "Sorry, Peanut."

        "It's okay, Walnut, just don't let it happen again."

        Jennifer mumbled to herself as she worked. "Green is for Mother Earth. We thank her for the gifts she gives us. Blue is for Father Sky. We praise him for the sunshine and the rain. Orange is for friendship. Our friends are our family and will always be welcome in our lodge. Purple is for brothers. Brothers have a bond that can't be broken. Purple is for uncles, too."

        "Uncles?" John questioned. He'd never taught her that.

        "Yep," Jen nodded. "Since purple is for brothers, and you and Daddy are like brothers, and me and Chris call you Uncle Johnny, then purple must be for uncles, too."

        John smiled at the child's logic. "I guess you're right. I'll have to tell my grandfather that."

        "Your grandfather's still alive, Uncle Johnny?" Chris asked while his sister painted his face. Jen put on every color but purple. Today purple was only for Uncle Johnny.

        "Yes. Mingon is still alive. He was seventy five years old on his last birthday."

        "Mingon means Gray Wolf, right, Uncle Johnny?" Jennifer inquired as her brother now painted her cheekbones.

        "It does."

        "But he has an English name, too, right?"

        "Yep. Roderick Charles Gage. The government made his parents give him an English name, just like they made my grandfather give my father an English name, and then made my father give me one as well."

        "What's your father's name?" Chris asked as he sat down and crossed his legs.

        "English or Indian?"

        "Both."
        
        "His English name is Charles Phillip Gage. He goes by Chad. His Indian name is Chayton, which in the Waupun language means Falcon."

        "Chayton and Charles," Jennifer pondered. "They sound kind of alike."

        "Yes, they do. Which might be why my grandparents chose them, though I really don't know that for a fact."

        "What about you, Uncle Johnny? I know your English name is John Roderick Gage. Do you have an Indian name, too?"

        At that question Johnny's face turned red beneath his war paint. Chris and Jennifer immediately sensed his embarrassment over Chris's question.

        "Come on, Uncle Johnny, tell us," Chris pleaded.

        "Yeah, Uncle Johnny, tell us."

        Johnny looked from one expectant face to the other. It's not that he was ashamed of his Indian name, or that it sounded particularly odd or peculiar. It's just that as soon as he said it he had no doubt the kids would ask him what it meant.

        "Please, Uncle Johnny," Jennifer begged again. "Please tell us. We won't tell anyone else if you don't want us to. We promise."

        "Yeah, we promise," Chris agreed."

        "All right," John reluctantly conceded. "But that's a promise I'm holding both of you to."

        "So what is it?" Chris asked.

        "It's Katori."

        "Katori," the boy said, liking how the name rolled off his tongue. "Katori. I like that. It sounds cool."

        "Yeah," Jennifer nodded. "Ka...tor...i. Katori. Uncle Katori. That's a good name for you."

        "No, no," Johnny laughed. "Uncle Johnny will do just fine."

        "What's Katori mean?"

        John rolled his eyes. "Somehow, Chris, I knew that was going to be your next question." The paramedic took a deep breath. "It's what is known as a myth name, meaning it was derived from an old legend."

        The kids nodded their understanding of the word legend.
        "So what's it mean?" Chris asked again.

        John felt his cheeks burn scarlet as he mumbled, "He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes."

        Chris and Jennifer looked at one another with shock, then laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks and they toppled over sideways.

        The first thing they heard when their laughter died was their uncle's voice giving them a playful, yet stern warning.

        "If either of you so much as breathes a word of this to Chet Kelly I'll have both your scalps."

        The kids started laughing again at this idle threat, but both managed a firm nod of their heads indicating Johnny's secret was safe with them.

        When the Pow Wow broke up an hour later both Chris and Jen were referring to Johnny as He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes. The paramedic wondered how smart it had been to tell them the meaning behind his Indian name. With a sigh of resignation, he also wondered how long they'd manage to keep it to themselves.
        

Chapter 9

        
        The Kankakee Killer backed farther into the woods when the campers returned. The sun was beginning to set, and he had a strong suspicion they were getting ready to settle in for the night. It would probably be several hours before they went to sleep, but no matter, he could wait. Once the children's uncle was sleeping it would be easy to grab the little girl from her bedroll and dash off into the night. Even if she managed to get off a few screams he'd be long gone with her before the man was able to give chase. The dog. Now he might be a problem. But there wasn't much Evan could do about him. Hopefully the mutt would be a sound sleeper. He seemed gentle enough. But then one never knew about dogs. If nothing else once Evan made it into the thick woods with the girl the dog would have a hard time tracking him. He'd immediately cross the stream and head for the other side. The going would be rough for a few miles, but then he'd come to the old fire lane where his truck was parked. He'd chloroform the kid and take off. He wouldn't worry about tying her up until he got to the main highway.

        Evan's thoughts turned back to Jennifer as he watched her bounce around the campsite. He knew her name now. He'd heard the man the kids called, Uncle Johnny, refer to her as such. The boy, who was no doubt her brother, was Chris. Or Christopher Roy as his uncle sometimes hailed him. But Evan wasn't interested in the man named Johnny or the boy named Christopher Roy. No, he was only interested in the girl. The delicate little girl.

        Soon you'll be my angel, sweetie. One of Evan's angels. I already love you. I love you so much, Jennifer. You are a doll. Just a living doll.
   

     Evan didn't allow himself to think ahead to later that evening when Jennifer would no longer be living. It would get him too excited, and he couldn't afford to get all hot and bothered with those kinds of thoughts now. He had to keep his head in the game. He had to have that little girl.

_____________________________

        Jen looked the other way as Johnny and Chris chopped the heads of seven fish, then gutted and scaled them. This was the only part about camping she didn't like. She felt sorry for the fish, but they sure did taste good after Uncle Johnny fried them with chopped onions and a little bit of garlic salt. The potatoes were already baking over a low flame atop the grill Uncle Johnny had welded a couple years ago from some scrap iron he'd bought. When she knew supper was almost finished Jennifer ran to the stream and pulled out two cold Cokes, one apiece for her uncle and her brother, and an Orange Crush for herself. She ran back to the campsite, handed the guys their drinks, then wrapped her arms around John's waist.

        The paramedic looked down at the girl and smiled. "What's that for, Jenny Bean?"

        Jennifer held up her soda. "You always remember to bring my favorite even though no one else likes it."

        Johnny gave the nine year old's nose a gentle pinch, then swiped at the face paint Jennifer hadn't bothered to remove. But then he and Chris still wore theirs as well.

        "Nothing's too good for my best girl."

        Ten minutes later the campers sat down to a hearty supper. Jennifer ate one piece of fish and one potato, while Chris and Johnny ate two pieces of fish and two potatoes. Joe was fed the remaining potato and fish. By the time supper was over and the campsite put back in order it was growing dark. Johnny added two more logs to the fire as the kids got their jackets from their saddle bags. Although the daytime temperature had reached eighty-three degrees, it was now down to sixty-five. Jen brought Johnny the long sleeved blue chambray work shirt she knew he liked to wear over his short sleeve shirts in place of a jacket when it wasn't too cold out.

        "Thanks, Peanut."

        "You're welcome, He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes."

        John grabbed the child and flipped her upside down, dangling her by her ankles. "What was that? What did you call me?"

        Jennifer squealed as Johnny ran a hand over her ribs. "Johnny. I called you Uncle Johnny. Uncle John Roderick Gage! That's what I called you."

        "That's what I thought," Johnny said as he gently placed the girl back on her feet.

        John slipped the shirt on but left it unbuttoned while the kids put on the denim jackets Joanne had sent along. The three campers settled themselves around the fire, John in the middle with a child on either side of him. Joe plopped down on his belly next to Chris. Jennifer turned her head and asked Johnny to put her hair in two Indian braids. She fished rubber bands out of her jacket pocket and sat perfectly still while he fumbled at braiding her hair with a lack of skill that said he'd never done such a task before. When he was finished Jennifer's braids were lopsided, and strands of hair hung loose from them, but she didn't seem to mind. She turned toward the fire with a smile on her face.

        No one said anything for a long time, each camper lost in their own thoughts as they stared into the fire. Once the sun had completely set and darkness surrounded them, Chris smiled and rubbed his hands together.

        "Time for ghost stories. I go first."

        Neither Johnny or Jennifer protested that. Chris loved ghost stories. It had grown to be a tradition on their camping trips that he was the one who decided when it was time to start them, and he was the one who got the honor of going first.

        As story tellers went, Chris was good. This had come as a surprise to Johnny considering how quiet Chris could be. But like most people, Chris DeSoto had many facets to his personality. He had the ability to scare the living daylights out of his fellow campers with nothing more than the tone of his voice and the intense facial expressions he created to go along with it.

        By the time the boy was finished Jennifer was snuggled as tightly into Johnny's side as she could get. She had her head buried in his shirt and her eyes squeezed shut. When she realized Chris wasn't going to say anything else her face appeared and she heaved a relieved sigh.

        "That was great. I loved it and I hated it."

        John looked down at the girl. "How could you love it and hate it both?"

        "I loved it 'cause it scared me. And I hated it 'cause it scared me, too."

        Johnny smiled. He couldn't blame Jennifer for being scared. Chris's story had been about a man called The Stone Ridge Killer, who snatched nine year old girls out of their beds in the middle of the night. He'd thought of putting a stop to that plot, but he knew Chris was only having fun at his sister's expense like all brothers do on occasion, so as long as Jennifer didn't protest he allowed the boy to continue.

        "Okay, now it's my turn," Jennifer said.

        The blond girl's story was short, and not all that scary, but Johnny listened politely and didn't allow Chris to voice any complaints even though he made a couple of faces at his sister's attempt.

        When Jen was finished Johnny said, "Good job, Jenny Bean."

        "Were you scared?"

        "You bet. So scared that I'm sorry I left my teddy bear back at the ranch."

        "You have a teddy bear, Uncle Johnny?"

        Chris rolled his eyes. "Of course he doesn't have a teddy bear. He was only kidding you." Chris looked at his father's partner. "Now it's your turn, Uncle Johnny. But don't tell us a scary story. Your scary stories are almost as lame as Jennifer's."

        "Hey!" Johnny protested.

        "Hey!" Jennifer echoed.

        "It's true. Me and Dad both say that. But your legends, they're the coolest. Can you tell us one of those?"

        "Yeah, Uncle Johnny. Tell us the story about He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes."

        "All right," Johnny agreed. "Considering our conversation in the Pow Wow Cave today I guess that's an appropriate one."

        As Johnny began to tell the story he almost seemed to transform into an Indian Warrior right before Jennifer's eyes. He still wore his face paint, as did she and Chris. None of them had remembered to wash it off, but Jennifer didn't mind. She wanted to go to sleep wearing it. She could tell Chris was watching Uncle Johnny, too. She wondered if he noticed how dark Uncle Johnny's eyes got when he was concentrating, and how the flames from the fire cast shadows on the sharp planes of his face. It was almost like he wasn't with them anymore. Almost like his mind was somewhere far back in time with his Indian ancestors.

        "When He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes was a boy he had a different name. The name his parents gave him on his name day which was Awanta, or Turtle, in the White Man's language. Awanta was neither a brave boy, nor a boy who was not brave. He was not tall, he was not short. He was not fat, nor was he skinny. He wasn't the smartest boy, nor the dumbest. He was not handsome, nor was he ugly. Awanta had fourteen brothers and sisters. He was the middle child. Number seven. Like everything else about Awanta, he did not stand out even in his own family. Sometimes he felt very lost and alone, even while living in the crowded lodge of his parents. All Awanta really wanted was for someone to notice him. For the people of his tribe to point at him and say, There goes Awanta, the bravest of the brave. The swiftest of the swift. The strongest of the strong. The warrior all boys want to be when they reach manhood.

        "While he was doing his chores, or learning how to hunt, or track, or catch wild stallions, Awanta would often daydream about the great deeds he would someday do. He would dream about how he would stand out amongst his people. About how his name would be spoken of with nothing less than reverence, and whispered in legends long after he'd gone home to The Great Father.

        "One person who did notice Awanta was his little brother Nascha, or Owl, in the tongue of the White Man. Nascha was five summers younger than Awanta, and like most little brothers knew how to make Awanta's blood boil. Nascha often teased Awanta about all the things Awanta hated. He reminded Awanta that he was the middle child. That he was neither brave, nor unbrave. That he was neither fat nor skinny. That he was not tall or short. That he was neither handsome nor ugly. That he was neither smart nor dumb. He just was. He was Awanta, the Indian boy twelve summers old who was rarely missed when he was absent from the cooking fires.

        "Awanta cursed Nascha then, and wished upon him the most horrible thing he could think of. To die by the bite of a shuman, or rattlesnake as you call it today.

        "Awanta walked away from his brother after placing the curse on him. The boy did not regret his words. After all, Nascha would deserve it if he did die from a rattlesnake bite. He was spoiled and selfish, their father's favorite son for reasons Awanta couldn't figure out. But Awanta wasn't a Spirit Man or the son of one. Only the tribe's Spirit Man could put curses on people. Or at least curses that actually worked. So when Nascha first started screaming "Shuman! Shuman! Help me, Awanta! Shuman!," Awanta paid him no notice. He thought his brother was teasing him again. But the screams continued, and as Awanta listened he could hear the terror behind them. He turned around to see a rattlesnake the size of a small tree wrapped around Nascha's leg.

        "Awanta raced to his brother, dust churning under his bare heels. Without thinking of his own safety, he grasped the snake behind its hinged jaws with one hand, and by its powerful tail with another. He pulled, and he tugged, and he yanked until he somehow got it uncoiled from Nascha's leg. The rest of the tribe had been summoned from their lodges and cooking fires by Nascha's screams. By the time they arrived they saw Awanta dancing in circles with the shuman held high above his head. The snake was flailing its tail and trying to buck its head from Awanta's grasp but he never let go. The dancing went on for many long minutes until the snake could fight Awanta no more. The boy gave a whooping cry louder and more powerful than any cry even the strongest warrior in the tribe had ever yelled in the heat of battle. He spun around three more times, then flung the snake so far no one could see where it landed.

        "Awanta collapsed with exhaustion. He thought it only fitting that the tribe would first rush to Nascha to make certain he was unharmed. And he was. Thanks to Awanta the snake hadn't bitten Nascha. Before Awanta knew what was happening the tribes elders were surrounding him. They lifted him to his feet and bowed as though he was The Great Father come to Mother Earth. Then the Spirit Man stepped forward, placed a firm hand on Awanta's head, and announced, "You are Awanta no more. You are now Katori. He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes. You shall be a great man. A Spirit Man and a powerful chief. You shall lead your people for all the rest of your days on Mother Earth."

        Chris and Jennifer never took their eyes off Johnny as his story drew to a close. Nothing was heard but the pop and hiss of the logs in the fire until Jennifer whispered, "What happened, Uncle Johnny? What happened to He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes?"

        "Later, when he grew to be a man, he did as the Spirit Man said he would. He became chief of his tribe and led them with wisdom until he died when he was many summers old. And throughout all those years Katori had Nascha to thank for that wisdom."

        "Nascha?" Chris said. "But he was the pain-in-the-butt little brother."

        "Yes, Chris, he was. But it was from Nascha and his near-brush with death that Katori learned an important lesson he'd carry with him for the rest of his life."

        "What lesson was that?"

        "That you don't have to be the bravest, or the strongest, or the fastest, or the smartest, or the most handsome, to stand out in your tribe. All you have to be is good, and honorable, and decent, and help those who can't help themselves."

        "Like Nascha couldn't help himself when the snake was wrapped around his leg?" Jennifer asked.

        "Yes, Jenny Bean, just like that."

        "But wasn't Katori afraid, Uncle Johnny? Wasn't he afraid the rattlesnake might bite him, or did he somehow know it wouldn't?"

        "He was afraid. Very afraid. And no, he didn't know the snake wouldn't bite him. As a matter of fact he thought it would. After all, he wasn't the bravest, or the fastest, or the smartest. He just was. But he learned that day that he loved his brother with all the love his heart had to hold as it should be with brothers. And he did the most honorable thing a boy, or man, can do."

        "What's that?" Jennifer asked.

        "He put his life at risk in order to save someone else. He was scared, and he knew he might die, but at that moment it didn't matter. All that mattered was saving Nascha. All that mattered was that he was willing to sacrifice his own life so that the life of his brother would not come to an end. And that's the lesson Katori learned at the young age of twelve summers that made him a great leader when he grew to be a man."

        "He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes was very special, wasn't he, Uncle Johnny?"

        "Yes, Jen, I guess he was."

        "You shouldn't be embarrassed to have been named for him. You should be proud."

        Johnny grinned. "You think so, huh? Even though I'm scared to death of rattlesnakes?"

        "Yeah, even so. 'Cause I think when you have to be brave, Katori, you always are. No matter how scared you might be."

        Johnny simply shook his head in amazement at the never-ending devotion of his one-woman fan club. If nothing else he could always count on Jennifer for a little hero worship. He ran a hand over her braids as she snuggled into his side. He swallowed hard as he looked down at her and recalled another little girl who had stolen his heart so long ago now. He briefly thought of what might have been, but chased that thought away. He knew from past experience looking back never produced favorable results. He never looked too far into the future either. Ever since he was twenty years old John Gage pretty much lived for the moment, but the reasons why were his and his alone.

        The paramedic rose on stiff knees. He groaned as he bent and encouraged the tired children to stand, too.

        "Come on, guys, lets get our beds ready and hit the sack. Tomorrow's another day."

        It didn't take long for the campers to unroll the blankets and pillows they'd be sleeping on and under. Johnny directed the children to lay out their beds far enough away from the fire so no one accidentally rolled into it during the night, while still being close enough to feel its warmth. John set up his bed nearest to the fire for safety sake. Jennifer was next to him, with Chris on the outside. Joe was satisfied to remain where he'd been during the story telling sessions. Johnny knew at some point during the night the dog would join them and end up lying next to him.

        The paramedic made certain his charges were well covered. He asked them if they were warm enough and got affirmative responses.

        "If you need anything in the middle of the night just wake me up."

        "We will," the kids promised.

        "And don't get up to use the bathroom without waking me either."
        Jennifer smirked. "Uncle Johnny, there isn't a bathroom up here if you haven't noticed."

        "Okay, then the woods. Don't get up to use the woods without waking me."

        "We know, we know," Chris assured with a yawn. "Dad told us about a hundred times. And Mom told us two hundred." The boy mimicked his mother's voice. "Behave yourselves and do exactly what Uncle Johnny tells you to. Don't go wandering into the woods without him, and if you have to go potty in the middle of the night make sure you wake him up."

        "Sounds like all the important stuff's been covered then." John bent and tousled Chris's hair. "Night, buddy."

        "Good night, He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes."

        John tossed the Chris's blanket over the boy's head. "That's enough out of you, smart mouth." He then turned to say his good night's to Jennifer. She sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

        "Good night, Uncle Katori."

        "I shouldn't have told you guys anything about that name."

        "Why? I like it. And the story that goes with it. I'm glad you told us, Uncle Johnny. Really I am."

        "I just hope I don't regret it at some point in the future."

        Jennifer made no reply to Johnny's words because she wasn't exactly certain what he meant. She released him and allowed him to tuck her under her covers. He climbed in-between his own covers next.

        "Hey, guys?" Johnny said as got settled.

        "Yeah?" Two voices responded.

        "Remind me when we brush our teeth in the morning that we've also gotta wash off our face paint."

        "I was hoping you'd forget," Chris said.

        "Me, too," Jennifer echoed.

        "Nope, I won't forget. We'll look pretty silly if we show up at your parent's house with this stuff streaked across our faces."

        Jennifer propped herself up on one elbow and looked into Johnny's brown eyes. "Uncle Johnny, do you really think after all these years that Mom and Dad are surprised by anything you do?"

        Johnny couldn't help but laugh at the girl. He didn't know who she sounded more like right now, Roy or Joanne.

        "No, Jenny Bean, I don't suppose they are."

        "Take it from me, Uncle Johnny, you're right about that one."

        The girl scooted back down under her covers without saying another word. Five minutes later both Jennifer and Chris were sound asleep. Five minutes after that Johnny joined them in dreamland.

        And from the woods Evan Crammer watched and waited.
        

Chapter 10

        
        It was ten minutes after midnight. The campers had been asleep for two hours, and the fire was just now beginning to burn low. Evan rose from his hiding place behind a clump of trees. No one had moved for the past forty-five minutes, indicating to him the man and children were now at their most unaware. There were two things about this situation Evan didn't like. Number one, the dog. Number two, the fact that Jennifer was sleeping in-between her uncle and her brother. His plan would work better if she was lying where Chris was, but there wasn't anything he could do to change that so he'd have to make the best of things.

        Without making a sound Evan reached into his backpack. He took out what he needed, then hoisted the small pack into a nearby tree. No doubt the cops would eventually find it, but that was of little consequence. What was left in it, a couple sandwiches and a can of pop purchased at a gas station vending machine, wouldn't garner them any clues as to his identity. Evan never worried about leaving fingerprints behind because he'd never had his fingerprints taken for any reason. Cops tended to bully people into believing everyone's fingerprints were somehow magically on file. Well, Evan knew better. And because he'd never had his fingerprints taken for any reason, not a single print he left behind would match any identified prints the cops had in their records.

        Evan held two naked hot dogs in one hand, and an eight inch bowie knife in the other. The hot dogs had been a brilliant thought on his part. He'd toss them into the woods on the far side of the campsite, and if he were lucky the dog would go sniff them out. The knife he'd retrieved from his truck once he decided Jennifer had to be his. A gun would have been better. With a gun he could kill the girl's uncle for sure. But if the guy got in his way the knife would work, too. It was sharp as a lean blade of grass, and had a curved end. It could inflict a lot of damage when plunged into the human body by a man as large as Evan.

        Evan scanned the ground until he spotted a small rock. He picked it up, tested its weight in his had for a moment, eyed the campers one last time, then tossed it into the woods opposite of where he was standing and where Johnny and the kids were sleeping.

        Joe's eyes popped open and he lifted his head. Just like Evan had hoped it would be, the dog's attention was drawn to the woods where the rock landed.
When a hot dog landed near the rock the Malamute got up to investigate.

        John Gage wasn't sure what woke him at first. His eyes were still closed as he took in the soft hiss of splitting logs and heard Cody whinny from the vicinity of the stream. He opened his eyes and turned his head to the left. Jennifer and Chris were snuggled under their blankets and sleeping soundly. When Johnny turned his head to the right he noticed Joe was missing.

        It musta have been Joe I heard. I suppose he's taking a little nighttime stroll into the woods.

        Without giving it conscious thought John rested his left arm over his eyes. For years now Roy had wondered how someone could sleep on his back throughout ninety percent of the night, and with this arm thrown over his eyes, yet not end up with two things - a hell of a backache and an arm that was asleep come morning. But Johnny never suffered from either of those afflictions, and for as long as he could remember this had been his favorite position in which to sleep.

        The paramedic fell into a light doze that enabled him to keep an ear out for Joe while still getting some rest. He heard something fall somewhere in the woods, but didn't open his eyes.

        A coon probably knocked a branch out of a tree, John thought as he slipped toward a deeper state of sleep.

        Seeing no signs of the Malamute, Evan crept out of the woods behind the campers' heads. He knew his size offered advantages and disadvantages. At this point the disadvantage was the inability to move silently at a swift pace. He couldn't afford to progress toward Jennifer too quickly. He had to keep his eyes on his size fifteen tennis shoes. A man of his weight could easily announce his presence just by stepping on a twig.

        Evan clutched the wooden handle of the knife in his left fist. If Lady Luck stayed with him he'd scoop up Jennifer with his right arm and take off running without ever having to use the knife.

        Just like Joe's movements had disturbed Johnny's sleep, they'd disturbed Jennifer's, too. At first she didn't know where she was. She felt the hard ground beneath her and thought she heard a horse whinny.

        Uncle Johnny has horses. I must be dreaming I'm at Uncle Johnny's.

The smell of the burning wood from the fire is finally what oriented Jennifer to her surroundings. She opened her eyes and stared up at the stars. The sky was so black and beautiful. It was Uncle Johnny who had taught to her to love the darkness and all the treasures it could reveal, rather than to be afraid of it.

        Jen rolled over on her left side. She could see Uncle Johnny sleeping with his arm resting atop his eyes. Without disturbing the warm cocoon of blankets she was nestled in she squirmed a little closer to him, completely unaware that just five feet away a strange man stood watching her.

        Evan held his breath as Jennifer changed positions. When she didn't lift her head, or call out to her uncle, he assumed she was still asleep and unaware of his presence. Even so, he waited a few seconds to see if she'd settle down. He knew he didn't have time to spare, the dog was bound to return soon. Nonetheless, neither could Evan afford to make a costly mistake due to haste.

        Jen closed her eyes, comforted by the nearness of her father's partner. Even though she wasn't really afraid of the dark, she wouldn't want to camp out alone in the woods like Uncle Johnny sometimes did. Her mind flicked to Chris's ghost story, but she didn't allow herself to dwell on it.

        It was just a stupid old story. Just a story Chris told me on purpose to scare me. Besides, Uncle Johnny's here. He won't let anything happen to me.

        Mere seconds passed between that thought and when Jennifer felt herself being swooped up out of her bedroll. At first she thought she was dreaming, but as she looked into the man's wild eyes she knew he was all too real.

        Before Evan managed to clamp his hand over Jennifer's mouth she got off one loud, healthy, "Uncle Johnny! Uncle Johnny! It's the Stone Ridge Killer! Help me, Uncle Johnny! Help me!"

        Thanks a lot, Chris, was Johnny's thought as his eyes snapped open. He rolled to his left, all set to comfort Jennifer, only to see an empty bedroll.

        "Uncle Johnny! Uncle Joh...!"

        John looked up in time to see a man clamp a beefy hand over Jennifer's mouth. Like Jennifer, Johnny would have thought he was dreaming had he woken from a sound sleep. Fortunately the doze he had fallen into after Joe left the campsite caused his brain to at least be partially alert.

        None of the campers had removed their cowboy boots that night which would turn out to be to everyone's advantage. Johnny jumped to his feet as Jennifer's heels repeatedly connected with her assailant's thighs. Her kicks weren't sharp enough to cause him to release her, but at least they slowed his progress towards the woods.

        "Hey, put her down!" John shouted as he raced after the fleeing man. "Put her down!"

        Not again. Another hero asshole isn't gonna keep me from what I want. From
what I need.

        Evan spun his huge body around to face Johnny. In that split second all Johnny saw was Jennifer's eyes, pale blue orbs wide with terror and begging him to save her. The man had Jennifer crushed against his chest, but she kept on kicking for all she was worth. Johnny never even noticed the man's left hand as he rushed the stranger. All he could think of was getting Jennifer out of his grasp.

        I can't let him get into the woods with her. I'll never find him if he does.

        Chris DeSoto had been the only camper who was sleeping soundly when Jennifer was snatched from her bed. It wasn't until he heard Johnny's second, "Put her down!" that he came fully awake. He sat up, his eyes as wide as Jennifer's as he watched Johnny launch himself at the big man's knees.

        The force of John's weight knocking into him sent Evan sprawling. It was only by a miracle of God that Jennifer wasn't cut with the knife he still carried. Even flat on his back the man still clutched the girl to his chest as though his life depended on getting away with his blond headed prize.

        Johnny grabbed Jennifer's forearms and tugged. Evan's hand had fallen away from her mouth and she was letting out a series of long, loud screams. Johnny was grateful for that. He didn't know if there were any other campers in the area, but if so the child's cries were bound to attract their attention.

        Evan yanked Jennifer back, he and Johnny now engaged in an absurd game of tug of war. It was then that John realized the man had to outweigh him by close to one hundred and fifty pounds. Using all the strength he possessed, he pulled on Jennifer's forearms again, but she still remained in the stranger's grasp. John straddled the big man's chest and gave another yank. He saw the knife being raised and did the only thing he could, put his body between it and Jennifer.

        The paramedic felt the knife slice deep into the biceps muscle of his right arm.

        "You bastard!" he screamed, as the first round of pain hit his brain. "You goddamn bastard! Let her go! Dammit, let her go!"

        It was the blood soaking the blue sleeve of Johnny's that brought Chris out of his horrified trance. He scrambled from his bedroll, ran to Jennifer's side, and joined Johnny in trying to pull her free.

        Chris thought Johnny might have been stabbed again because he heard an agonized cry, but when he looked at John's face all he saw was the fierce determination of a Waupun warrior. Curse words filled the night as Uncle Johnny swore at the man. Chris hadn't ever heard Johnny use language like that before. He bet even his father hadn't heard Johnny cuss like he was cussing now.

        "Let her go, you son of a bitch! Let her go!"

        As the knife was buried in Johnny's right calf he bent down and grabbed Evan's hair. He ignored his own pain to instead begin beating the man's head into the ground. It wasn't easy. Even though Evan Crammer was essentially fighting off three people his size made him a formidable opponent. He rolled and kicked and flailed, trying to return to his feet.

        One of the blows to Crammer's head finally landed hard enough to make him momentarily see stars. His grip on Jennifer loosened slightly. Slightly was all Johnny and Chris needed. Johnny freed the girl and thrust her toward her brother.

        "Run, Chris! Run! Take her and go to the Pow Wow! Go to the Pow Wow!"

        Johnny didn't have to add the word cave for Chris to know what he meant. Later he would realize John left that word out of his sentence on purpose so Jennifer's assailant had no way of tracking them down.

        Chris grabbed Jennifer's hand and fled into the dark woods. Branches scratched his face and tangled in his hair but he never stopped. He pulled his sister along with him, despite the fact her gasping sobs made him want to do nothing more than take her in his arms and comfort her.

        Chris threw the moss back on the Pow Wow Cave and pushed Jennifer inside. He quickly drew the moss back down, knowing the man would never find them if he didn't know the cave existed.

        Please, God, please, Chris prayed. Please don't let him know the Pow Wow Cave is here. Please.

        Chris took Jennifer by the hand again and led her to the very back of the cave. It was pitch black, but he didn't care. He couldn't risk them sitting close to the cave's entrance for fear the man would hear Jennifer's sobs if he passed by.

        The boy sat down and pulled his sister to his chest. He placed one hand on the back of her head. "Sssh. Sssh, Jen. Don't cry. Don't cry. It'll be okay. Everything's okay now. We're safe. We're in the Pow Wow Cave and we're safe. He'll never find us here. He'll never find us."

        Chris didn't think his sister's sobs would ever stop that night. There wasn't much he could do but rock her back and forth while assuring her she was all right. When she finally began to calm down she pulled away from her brother.
She used the sleeve of her denim jacket to wipe at her eyes and nose.

        "I was so scared, Chris. More scared than I've ever been in my whole life. That man...he...."

        Chris embraced his sister again. He didn't know if he'd ever hugged her like this before. Usually he fought with her or ignored her. But tonight he had to be a man. Uncle Johnny was depending on him to keep Jennifer safe.

        "I know, I know," Chris said, shuddering inside at the thought of what that man would have done to Jennifer had he been able to flee without Uncle Johnny catching him. "Just don't think about it. Uncle Johnny will come for us soon. He'll come real soon."

        Jennifer nodded her head. Chris did a good job of keeping his worry from her as he said again in a firm voice, "Uncle Johnny will be here soon."

        Jennifer didn't know that Uncle Johnny had been stabbed. But Chris knew it. He could still see the knife plunging into Uncle Johnny's leg, and still see the blood staining Johnny's shirt. By now the man might have killed Uncle Johnny. But Chris had no way of knowing what was going on, and short of leaving the cave know way of finding out.

        But Uncle Johnny wouldn't want me and Jen to leave the cave. This is where he always told us to come if we were lost or if there was some kind of trouble. He always told us to wait here and he'd come get us. I gotta wait here for him now. I can't take Jen back out in the dark. If that man's walking around he could get her. He could take her and I'd never be able to stop him.
        

Chapter 11

        
        Blood loss and pain were taking their toll on John Gage. Whatever adrenaline rush had aided him in freeing Jennifer left him when he saw the DeSoto children make it safely to the cover of the woods. He lifted Evan's head two more times in an effort to beat the man into unconscious but to no avail.

        Christ! This guy has got the strength of a bull.

        Evan Crammer grabbed John's left wrist and twisted it until he heard the bone snap. The paramedic cried out and released his hold on Crammer's hair.
The big man was furious. More furious than he could ever remember being. For the second time in two days a child had been taken from him.

        Crammer let out a guttural roar as he jumped to his feet. John was bent at the waist, cradling his wrist and seeing nothing but black stars in front of his eyes. He wasn't sure if his hazy vision was due to the pain of the snapped bone or the blood loss, but at that moment he didn't care. He actually prayed he'd pass out. If he were lucky the man would think he was dead and run off into the night.

        But Evan Crammer wasn't about to run off into the night without extracting much needed revenge. He lifted the bowie knife and plunged it into Johnny's back. The paramedic screamed as the knife went in and then came back out. That action was repeated again, causing Johnny to fall to his knees.

        The knife was raised a third time, but John swiveled out of the way. Despite the pain of his broken wrist he clasped his hands together and swung his forearms up as hard as he could. The force of his blow on Evan's wrists caused the knife blade to turn away from Johnny. Jennifer's assailant threw himself on the paramedic. The two men rolled over and over in the dirt, both trying to gain the advantage controlling the knife would give them.

        As they fought Johnny somehow managed to possess the knife for a few brief seconds. He thought he slashed the man's right forearm pretty good a couple times, but he wasn't sure. He did hear the man cry out, but whether that was from pain or anger John didn't know. He was rolled over three more times until he was almost on top of the burning campfire. His chest heaved in an effort to get some much needed air. When he found himself on his back, looking up into slate blue eyes that held no emotions, John Gage knew his life would soon be over.

        Evan straddled Johnny's waist. The paramedic saw the knife raised high in the air, then saw the smile that touched his assailant's lips.

        "That's the last time you'll mess with me, Uncle Johnny," Evan promised.

        The knife was headed straight for John's heart. The paramedic never quit fighting even though he knew he was about to die. He kicked his legs, trying to dislodge Evan from his stomach, but to no avail. Just when Johnny was sure the knife was going to find its mark the big man flew forward with a loud "Ooof!"

        Joe was on Evan in a split second. He grabbed whatever skin he could find and bit the man who had been hurting his master. Like enraged dogs do, Joe shook his head back and forth, tearing the skin open on Evan's back and arms.

        "Damn, dog! Get off me! Get off!"

        Joe didn't give up the fight. Each time Evan tried to rise the ninety pound Malamute would knock him back to the ground. Evan threw his forearms over his face and surveyed the area as best he could. He realized then that Jennifer and Chris were long gone. As much as he wanted that little girl, he couldn't take the time now to look for her. He had to get out of here before the damn dog killed him.

        Joe kept growling and biting even as Evan got to his feet. The bowie knife was lying six feet from Johnny's head. Evan wanted it back, but each time he tried to reach for it Joe would lunge at him.

        The faithful Malamute placed himself between his master and Evan Crammer. Joe shadowed Crammer until the man finally turned and ran. The Malamute gave chase, but only long enough to make sure the stranger was gone. He ran back to Johnny's side and sat down, confused as to why his master didn't sit up and praise him for a job well done.

        Johnny heard Joe growling, but what transpired after that he didn't know. He tried to crane his head and view the action going on behind him, but any movement at all hurt too much. He thought he saw the man run by him with Joe giving chase, but he wasn't sure. He could feel the blood seeping from his wounds. He'd been stabbed at least four times that he could remember. In the right arm, in the right calf, and twice in the back. He knew his wrist was broken, and his collar bone hurt like hell, too. For a moment he thought it was odd that he was so cold. After all, how could a person be cold after the physical exertion he'd just expended? And besides, he was lying right next to the fire. But then John remembered that blood loss and shock causes a patient to complain of being cold.

        But I haven't lost that much blood. I can't. There's no way I can. I've got to get to Chris and Jen. I've got to make sure they're okay and get them home safely. Roy will never forgive me if I don't. Hell, I'll never forgive myself. I've got to get to my feet and head for the cave.

        Johnny wasn't able to stifle a cry as he rolled to his hands and knees. His broken wrist wouldn't support his weight, and he immediately collapsed to his elbows. He took three rapid, shallow breaths, and tried to push himself to his feet. The whole time his mind was repeating, Gotta get to...kids. Gotta get...to Chris and Jen. Gotta keep 'em safe.

        Johnny found he couldn't stand beyond a crouch. He took two shaky steps toward the Pow Wow Cave, then fell to the ground that seemed to spinning in wild circles beneath him. He silently berated himself for his failure to reach Roy's
children as he slowly lost consciousness.

        Had John Gage seen the pool of blood forming next to his injured body he wouldn't have been so hard on himself.

Chapter 12

        Jennifer had fallen into a fitful sleep in her big brother's arms. The minutes crawled by for Chris DeSoto. He managed to lift his arm without disturbing his sister and clicked on the tiny knob that shed a faint green light on the face of his watch. It was now twenty after two in the morning. Chris had been checking his watch every ten minutes since he and Jen had entered the cave. Two hours had passed. If Uncle Johnny were able to come for them he'd have been here by now.

        Chris chewed on his lower lip, unsure of what to do. He hated the thought of going back out into the dark woods, yet what if Johnny needed help? Chris had often heard his dad say that the most important time in any accident victim's life was immediately after the injury occurred. That's when you had to offer first aid. Chris had learned that last year in Boy Scouts, too, when he'd earned his First Aid Badge.

        The boy finally reached a decision.

        I gotta find out if Uncle Johnny needs help. If he's hurt how will I ever tell Dad that I was too scared to come out of a stupid cave?

        Chris gave his sister a gentle shake. "Jennifer? Jen, wake up."

        Though it was impossible to see in the dark cave, Chris could tell his sister
had opened her eyes. He could feel her lashes fluttering against his neck. The little girl whispered a groggy question.

        "Is Uncle Johnny here?"

        "No, he's not. We're going to have to go back to the campsite and look for him."

        "No!" Jennifer's hands clamped on her brother's arms. "No, Chris! We can't! That man! He might still be there! Please, Chris! No!"

        Now it was Chris's turn to clamp his hands onto someone. He grabbed Jennifer by the shoulders and have her a firm shake. "Jen, stop it! Calm down! You've got to listen to me."

        "O...okay."

        Chris could hear the tremor in his sister's voice that indicated she was about to start crying again, but he ignored it.

        "We've been in this cave two hours and Uncle Johnny hasn't come for us yet."

        "Maybe...maybe he went to get help. Maybe he went to call Daddy and the police."

        "No. There's no way he'd leave us here by ourselves. If that's what he was going to do he'd come for us first and take us with him."

        "But..."

        "Jen, you gotta listen to me and you gotta be brave. You can't start crying because I need you to be a big girl."

        "I am a big girl!"

        "I know, I know. But what I mean is, crying isn't gonna do us any good. Or Uncle Johnny either."

        "Uncle Johnny?"

        Though Chris could barely see his sister's face through the darkness, he looked into her eyes as he spoke. "He was hurt, Jen. That man stabbed him with a knife at least twice. His shirt sleeve was covered with blood."

        "Blood," Jennifer swallowed hard so she wouldn't start crying again. That would only make Chris mad. "Lots of it?"

        "Yeah...lots of it. So that's why I think he hasn't come for us. I think he might be hurt real bad."

        "Chris, if that man stabbed Uncle Johnny then Uncle Johnny could be dea...dea..."
        "Don't say it. Don't even think it."

        "But it's true."

        Silence filled the cave for a long moment. When Chris finally spoke again he gave a whispered, "I know."

        The boy was surprised when his sister clambered to her feet. He felt her tug on his hand.

        "Come on. Let's go!"

        "Jen...wait. Not so fast."

        "Come on, Chris, we gotta hurry! Uncle Johnny's hurt. You said so yourself. We gotta help him."

        "I know, but slow down. That man...he might still be out there somewhere."

        Those words were enough to freeze Jennifer in her tracks. The last thing she wanted was to see that man ever again in her whole life. But no matter how scared she was, she couldn't sit in a cave and wait to be rescued if that meant not getting help for Uncle Johnny.

        "Chris, Uncle Johnny was like He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes tonight, so now we have to be like that, too."

        "Huh?"

        "Uncle Johnny wasn't as big as that man, and he wasn't as strong as that man, and he didn't have a knife like that man did, and he musta' been as scared as I was, but he saved me. He saved me, and then he told you to run here and hide, so he saved you, too. He saved both of us. Now we gotta be like our Uncle Katori. We gotta be like He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes, Chris."

        Chris nodded at the truth behind Jennifer's words. He took her by the hand and gave the only instructions he could think of.

        "Don't let go of my hand. Absolutely no talking. Watch where you're walking so you don't trip over anything. Move as quiet as an Indian Scout just like Uncle Johnny taught us. If we see any sign of that man, or hear anything, we turn and run right back here. Got it?"

        Chris almost didn't hear his sister's, "Got it." He knew she was scared. But then so was he. But Jennifer was right. They had to be like He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes. They had to be as brave as Uncle Johnny.

        The blond headed boy made his sister stop when they came to the mouth of the cave. As unobtrusively as he could, he parted two strands of moss. He peered straight ahead, then left, then right. He didn't see anyone, or hear anything, so he crept outside bringing Jennifer with him.

        Chris breathed a sigh of relief when they'd scurried the thirty feet it took them to get to the thick cover of the woods. He knew the path by heart that led them to the Pow Wow Cave. When he'd been running with Jennifer to reach the cave his terror had caused him to veer off the path which explained the cuts and scratches on their arms and faces. But this time Chris planned to travel the path the entire way back to the campsite if possible. It would be a lot faster than zig zagging through the overgrowth of the woods, and a lot quieter, too.

        The children stopped twice during their one mile journey. The first time was because Chris heard a noise that caused him to pull Jennifer into a clump of bushes. They crouched there, barely breathing and with their hearts hammering in their chests, until Chris finally determined he'd heard nothing more than the activity of some nocturnal animal. The second time they stopped was when a hoot owl called above their heads. This time they didn't hide, but both Chris and Jennifer needed a moment to collect their wits after that unexpected scare.

        Joe's ears stood straight up and he gave a low growl when he heard someone approach. When he picked up the scents that were familiar to him the growl turned into a frantic bark.

        "That's Joe!" Jennifer whispered.

        Chris nodded. When they were within twenty feet of the campsite Chris forced his sister off the path. The children crept the rest of the way forward using the overgrown brush as cover. Chris's instincts caused him to clamp a hand over Jennifer's mouth when they got their first glimpse of their father's partner and best friend.

        Even though Chris's hand prevented her from saying anything, Jennifer's mind cried an anguished, Uncle Johnny! when she saw the paramedic lying curled on his side by the low burning fire. She tried to squirm from Chris's grasp.

        "No! Wait!" Chris ordered in a strangled whisper. "Just wait a minute. We
gotta make sure that man isn't around."

        The children watched for signs of Evan Crammer. Joe sat beside his master looking into the woods with a puzzled expression. Jennifer knew the young dog was wondering why they didn't come out and help Uncle Johnny.

        Chris hated himself for doing it, but he allowed five minutes to pass before slowly rising. Jennifer stood with him. She broke free from his grasp and ran for the fallen man.

        "Uncle Johnny! Uncle Johnny!"

        By the time Chris reached the paramedic Jennifer was kneeling beside him. She looked up at her brother with tears in her eyes. "He's all bloody. I don't know what to do. How do we help him?"

        Chris thought that was a good question. Jennifer was right. There was so much blood. The entire right side of John's shirt was soaked red. So was the back of the shirt. His face was splattered with blood as was his neck. Because the jeans Johnny was wearing were faded from many washings Chris could see blood staining the lower portion of his right pant leg as well.

        When John let out a low moan Chris used it to his advantage. "Uncle Johnny? Uncle Johnny?" The boy hated to touch John for fear of inflicting further pain, but he had no choice. He placed a hand right in the center of Johnny's chest, on one of the few spots that didn't contain any blood. He gave the man a gentle shake.

        "Uncle Johnny? Uncle Johnny! Johnny, please, you have to wake up! Me and Jen are here, but you've gotta tell us how to help you!"

        John was so cold. And he hurt so much. He felt his pulse racing and had to bite back a bout of nausea that was urging him to throw up the fish he'd had for dinner. John wasn't sure how many times he'd come to consciousness since the man fled. He wasn't sure how many times he'd tried to get up so he could go to Chris and Jennifer, he just knew that each time he tried to move he ended up passing out.

        "Uncle Johnny! Uncle Johnny, come on! Talk to me! You gotta tell me how to help you!"

        Johnny turned his head enough so he could look straight up. He'd learned from previous experience that lying on his back caused pain so severe it brought tears to his eyes, and also made it nearly impossible for him to breathe.

        John's voice was no more than a dry croak. "Chris?"

        "Yeah, Uncle Johnny, it's me. Jennifer's here, too."

        Johnny's eyes searched for the girl. Chris could see what he was doing so motioned Jennifer to scoot closer. She laid a hand on Johnny's head.

        "I'm here, Uncle Johnny. I'm right here."

        Johnny took in both children. "You guys...o...kay?"

        "We're fine," Chris assured. "Now you gotta tell me how to help you."

        Johnny found it remarkable that he was as lucid as he was considering all he'd been through. Oh, by no means did he want to be a contestant on Jeopardy, but if nothing else he knew what had happened to him. He swallowed what little saliva he had left and focused on Chris. The boy was right. He had to tell Roy's kids how to help him if he was going to live another hour.

        "Get...get the towels...we brought, Chris. An...the sheets. Sheets that are in...bedrolls. Scissors from...First Aid kit in my...saddle bags."

        The children ran off to do as Johnny instructed. Chris rifled through all three sets of saddlebags knowing he'd find the towels his mother had sent for him and Jennifer to use when washing up in the stream, and the towels Uncle Johnny had brought for himself for the same purpose. He also removed the white First Aid kit with the red cross on the front from one of John's saddle bags. He ran back to his uncle carrying the items.

        While Chris was doing that Jennifer had torn apart their beds and pulled out the sheets. She dropped to her knees beside Chris.

        "Okay, Uncle Johnny. We got everything." Chris peered into John's face. The man's eyes were open, but they looked funny. Glazed and glassy like Chris knew a person's eyes look when they have a fever.

        Or when they're in shock, Chris thought, as he recalled his First Aid courses.

        "Uncle Johnny?"

        John's head rolled toward the voice. "Huh?"

        "Me and Jen are back with the stuff you told us to get. The towels and the sheets and the scissors. Now tell me what to do."

        John thought a moment. It was funny, but just a few minutes ago he was so certain of what he needed to tell the kids. Now, for some reason, almost seven years of medical knowledge thanks to his paramedic training seemed to leave him.

        "The towels, Uncle Johnny," Chris prompted. "Did you want me to try to stop the bleeding with them?"

        "Uh...yeah. Good...boy. Fold 'em...fold 'em in fourths."

        Chris quickly did as Johnny instructed.

        "Okay, done."

        "All right." John paused as he reassessed his injuries. He wasn't too concerned about the knife wound to his collarbone. He couldn't feel it bleeding any longer, which at this point was the top priority. But blood was still seeping from the other stab wounds.

        "Take the...scissors, Chris, and cut,...cut the sleeve of my shirt."

        John didn't seem to be able to focus on Chris, so the boy made sure to respond verbally.

        "Okay."

        Jennifer already the First Aid kit open. She handed her brother the scissors.

        John was still lying on his left side, making it easy for Chris to slit the sleeve of his shirt. The boy gasped at the long streak of blood smeared on the bare skin of John's right arm. He moved his body a little, trying to block Jennifer's view.

        "Don't...don't touch my...T-shirt."

        "Shouldn't I cut it away from the wounds?"

        "No. You might...tear a clot."

        Chris wasn't sure what Johnny meant by that, but he bowed to his uncle's wisdom.

        "What next?"

        "Just press...one of the towels...against the wound. Then take scissors...cut sheets into strips...and tie..."

        "Tie the towels in place. Okay, I know what to do now."

        "But..." Johnny's eyes roamed the star-filled sky. "not too tight...Roy. Can't tie...too tight. Don't wanna cut off...circulation complete...completely."

        Having Johnny call him by his father's name scared Chris. He knew that wasn't a good sign, but for now he didn't have the time to worry about it.

        Jennifer had made enough bandages for her dolls out of old sheets to know exactly what Johnny's instructions meant. While her brother held the folded towel against Uncle Johnny's arm she cut strips of cloth wide enough and long enough for Chris to use to secure the towel in place.

        The children continued to work together to save Johnny's life while Joe stood by keeping attentive watch on the surrounding area. Chris cut John's right pant leg from ankle to knee. Just above Johnny's cowboy boot was a deep stab wound like the one he had on his arm. Chris held a towel against it while Jen cut more cloth strips.

        It was when the children came to the two wounds on Johnny's back that Chris was uncertain of what to do. He cut right up the center of John's work shirt, but remembered the paramedics words of caution and didn't try to remove his gray Los Angeles County Fire Department T-shirt. The entire back of the shirt was now red with Johnny's blood. Chris could see blood seeping down John's side and soaking into the ground.

        "Uncle Johnny," Chris hailed. His tone grew louder and more frantic when the paramedic didn't respond. "Uncle Johnny!"

        John's eyes were only half open. They traveled back and forth in lazy rhythm at the sound of Chris's voice.

        "Mmmm? Chris? You...okay? Jen...Jenny!" John lifted his head. He seemed to look right through Jennifer as he called frantically. "Jen! Where are you! Jenny!"

        "I'm right here, Uncle Johnny!" The little girl placed her hands on Johnny's shoulders and urged him back to the ground. "I'm right here. I'm okay."

        "Uncle Johnny, I got the towels ready for your back, but you're gonna have to help me. You're gonna have to sit up so I can tie 'em there."

        John was barely lucid, but managed to nod his head. Though what he was agreeing to he wasn't sure.

        Chris took the four long strips of cloth Jennifer handed him. He figured they'd only have one chance at this and he wanted to get it right the first time.

        "Jen, you go around to Uncle Johnny's left side. When he sits up, I'm gonna scoot these strips over to you. Pull 'em out half way, then leave 'em alone. Once we got them under him I can tie them against his chest."

        "Okay."

        Jennifer scurried around Johnny's feet and dropped to her knees on his left side.

     "Uncle Johnny, we're ready," Chris said. "Can you sit up?"

        Johnny wasn't sure what Chris wanted him to do or why, but when he felt the eleven year old circle his shoulders from behind he remembered something about sitting up.

        John cried out as he raised himself from the ground with Chris's help. He rested his weight on his left elbow and hip as best he could, but knew he was leaning heavily onto the boy.

        Chris hurried to push the cloth strips to Jennifer. The girl dropped on her stomach and pulled them across the ground, doing like her brother said and stopping when she got them to the half-way point. The entire ordeal didn't take more than ten seconds, but it was ten seconds longer than John Gage's body could stand. Chris toppled backwards when all of Johnny's weight slumped against him. For just a second the boy thought John had died and was sure it was all his fault for making Johnny sit up, but then he saw the uneven rise and fall of the paramedic's chest and heaved a sigh of relief.

        With Jennifer's help Chris got Johnny positioned once again like they'd found him, lying on his left side in a semi-fetal position. Jennifer held the towels against the unseen wounds on John's back while Chris tied them in place. He didn't like the way Johnny seemed to be struggling for breath so didn't tie his knots too tight.

        The eleven year old stood and looked around. He knew someone going into shock had to be kept warm and needed to have their feet elevated.

        "Jen, get the blankets from our bedrolls and cover Uncle Johnny with 'em. But be careful. Don't bump into him and be real gentle when you lay the blankets over him."

        "I will be."

        Chris hurried over to the stack of firewood he'd collected earlier in the day. He put two more logs on the fire, and used a stick to prod the flames into action.

        Jennifer was covering Johnny with all the skills of a Rampart nurse when Chris came to help her. They put three blankets on the man. Chris set a smaller one aside for him and Jen to wrap up in together. He ran to where the horses were tied and got two canteens. He looped their straps over his neck, then grabbed one of the saddles from the ground. He hoisted the heavy saddle against his stomach. Chris's gait had an uneven limp to it because of the weight he struggled to haul back to the campfire.

        Jennifer watched with confusion when Chris eased the saddled to the
ground by Johnny's feet.

        "Come on. Help me."

        "What are we doing?"

        "First we're gonna take his boots off, then we're gonna lift his legs and lay his ankles on the seat of the saddle."

        "Why?"

        " 'Cause he's in shock."

        "What's that mean?"

        "It means we gotta help his body do things it's hurt too badly to do by itself right now, like keep him warm and help his blood get to his brain and heart. That's why we have to elevate his feet."

        Jennifer was impressed with her brother's knowledge. She never learned interesting stuff like this in Brownies.

        The girl copied her brother's movements as he bent over. The children tried to be gentle as they tugged Johnny's boots off. Having Jennifer remove the left one didn't seem to disturb him, but when Chris pulled the right one off Johnny moaned in pain.

        I'm sorry, Uncle Johnny. I'm sorry.

Chris ignored his internal distress as he continued to issue instructions to his sister.

        "Now we'll lift his ankles together on the count of three, then I'll slide the saddle underneath them."

        "Okay."

        "Ready?"

        "Yeah."

        "One, two, three."

Johnny let out another quiet moan as his legs were lifted three feet from the ground. He was too out of it to understand why he was being jostled around, or to feel his ankles come to nestle in the curve of a saddle seat.

        Chris tucked the blankets around Johnny's feet. It was as Chris stood to remove the canteens from around his neck that John regained consciousness again.

        "Uncle Johnny, do you want some water?"

        "Juz...a little. Shouldn't...have...much."

        "Why?"

        "In case...sur...gery."

        "Oh."

        Chris uncapped one of the canteens and held it to Johnny's lips. More water dribbled down the paramedic's chin than got in his mouth, but if nothing else it offered the man some relief.

        "Chris?"

        "Yeah?"

        "I'm...I'm having a little trouble...breathing. Can you get...couple pillows?"

Before Chris could answer Jennifer jumped to her feet. She got the pillows she and Chris had brought from home. The same pillows Uncle Johnny had teased them about that night when they'd unrolled their beds.

        "People who camp out under the stars don't sleep on pillows," he'd teased with a big grin.

        "I bet you're happy we brought these pillows now, huh, Uncle Johnny?" Jennifer said as she returned to the paramedic's side.

        John did his best to smile. "Yeah...sweetie. I sure...am." His eyes traveled to Chris. "You put the...pillows...one on top...the other. Then lay them...long ways. I'm gonna sit up...again. When I do...slip 'em...under...my left shoulder."

        "You mean your head?"

        "No. My shoulder. They'll prop me up...some. Maybe...maybe make it easier to breathe. 'Kay?"


        With what little strength he had left Johnny gritted his teeth and raised his body off the ground. He was thankful it took Chris a mere second to get the pillows in place. He practically fell on them when the boy had his hand out of the way.

        Johnny's left shoulder and the side of his face now rested on the pillows. Though they didn't bring remarkable results, he did think he could breathe a little easier now.

        "Uncle Johnny, is there anything else we can do?" Chris asked.

        John pried his eyes open and gazed into two pale faces that shouldn't look nearly this worried or frightened. He gave the kids the best grin he could muster.

"No. Nothing. You did good...Christopher Roy. And you, too,...Jenny Bean. Your dad...your dad will be...so proud of you. Both you."

        "Daddy will be proud of you, too, Uncle Johnny, 'cause you saved my life."

        John's eyes slid closed. The kids could barely understand the words he slurred as he slowly returned to the world of unawareness.

        "Couldn't let anything...happen...to my best girl. Roy...Roy would be... so mad at me. I'd never...forgive...myself."

        Jennifer started to cry quiet tears then. Chris pulled her close and wrapped the remaining blanket around the two of them.

        "Sssh, Jen. Don't cry. Uncle Johnny's tough as they come. I've heard Dad say that a million times. He'll be okay. He'll be fine."

        Jennifer cried herself to sleep during those early morning hours that preceded dawn. Joe stayed on alert, intent on guarding his master and the children he so often played with. Somewhere around four o'clock Chris finally fell into a fitful sleep, allowing his body to sink down to the ground beside his sister's.

        Johnny regained consciousness on and off throughout those long hours. Sometimes he was aware of where he was and what had happened, and sometimes he wasn't. Sometimes he was so hot he thought he was on fire, while other times he was so cold he was certain he must have passed out in a snow bank. Sometimes he was aware of the blood soaking into the towels on his back, and sometimes he just thought it was rainwater that had somehow gotten between his shirt and his skin.

        But despite all those groggy and incoherent thoughts, John Gage was fully aware of one thing. There was little girl he had to protect and get home to her father. He had no intention of telling his partner that Jennifer was dead. He didn't want Roy to have to bury his only daughter. He wouldn't wish that heartbreak on any man. Not even his worse enemy. And most certainly not his closest friend.
        
        

Chapter 13

        
        Evan Crammer sagged against the tailgate of his pickup truck. The eastern sky was painted pale pink and blue with the light from early dawn. His forearms ached like hell from where he'd been slashed with his own knife, and his back and legs stung, too, from where that damn dog had bitten him. If it hadn't been for the dog Evan would have stayed and looked for those kids. The boy he could have killed easily enough the second he found him. The girl he would have taken with him like he had originally planned. But instead he'd been forced to run for his life across the stream with that dog right at his heels. The entire night had been a fiasco. That damn Indian was like a mother grizzly when it came to those kids. He'd fought like a caged tiger even though Evan was a good four inches taller and close to one hundred and fifty pounds heavier.

        "Damn redskin. I should of scalped him. I would have if it hadn't been for his dog. No matter though. He'll be dead before anyone finds him."

        Evan wanted nothing more than to stand under a hot shower and forget Los Angeles existed. But for the time being he had to make due with washing his many cuts and abrasions with cold water from the stream.

        When the man had cleaned himself as best he could he reached beneath the driver's seat for his billy club. With a determined purpose to his stride, he started the rugged trek to the campsite. He ran a hand over the smooth, weighted plastic of his weapon.
        

If that Indian is still alive he won't be by the time I'm through with him. And Jennifer...well one way or another Jennifer will be mine.
        
        

Chapter 14

        Chris and Jennifer woke to the sound of Johnny's screams. For a few seconds Chris thought the man who tried to kidnap Jennifer was back, but when he looked around he saw their campsite was devoid of intruders.

        The boy scrambled to his feet. John's eyes were wide open and he was yelling Jennifer's name.

        "Jennifer! Get away from him! Jenny, get back! Stay away from him! No, don't go with him! Jennifer!"

        "I'm here, Uncle Johnny! I'm here!" Jennifer jumped up and ran to Johnny's side. She pushed on his shoulder, trying to get him to lie down. John twisted away from her as his stomach spasmed. Jennifer's eyes grew wide with shock as he vomited blood into the grass.

        The girl looked at her stunned brother. "What...what's wrong with him, Chris?"

        Chris was no more prepared to handle this turn of events than his sister. He watched as Johnny vomited two more times. The paramedic collapsed on the pillows, his limbs trembling from exertion. Chris didn't think anyone could be as pale as his Uncle Johnny was and not be dead. The tiny gasps the man was making for air left the boy feeling stupid and helpless.

        Not knowing what else to do, Chris picked up one of the canteens. He uncapped it and knelt by Johnny's side.

        "Here, Uncle Johnny. I've got some water for you."

        John felt a hand slip underneath his neck and urge his head up. He took two long sips, then spit the liquid onto the grass. Though Johnny wasn't completely cognizant in regards to what had just happened, he knew better than to swallow the liquid and was simply grateful for the opportunity to rinse his mouth out. He ran his tongue over dry, cracked lips. He focused in on the worried face hovering over him.

        "What can we do, Uncle Johnny? How we can help you?"

        "Don't be...so...upset...Chris. When you frown like...that...you look juz...juz like your...dad. You're...you're doin' fine,...son. Both you and,...Jen. I'm sorry...sorry I'm scaring you...like this."

        "You're not scaring us. You just need to tell me what else we can do for you."
        "Not much...right now." Johnny had to pause in order to wait out a wave of pain that was threatening to make him scream.

        Can't lose it. Can't lose it in front of the kids. Gotta keep it together no matter how much it hurts.

        "Do you want something more to drink?"

        "No, I...shouldn't have...it. Can't...have it."

        Chris could tell the man was thirsty just by looking at his parched lips. Though the boy had to respect Johnny's wisdom in this matter, he thought of a way they might be able to make him a bit more comfortable. Chris turned to his sister.

        "Go get one of the washcloths from your saddlebags that Mom sent along."

        Jennifer ran to retrieve the requested item. For the next thirty minutes the children did the best they could to give John some liquid by running a damp wash cloth over his mouth, and to keep his condition stable by making certain he was well-covered with both his feet and shoulders elevated. Chris cringed each time Johnny coughed. Flecks of blood splattered his lips and chin. Even though the boy didn't know what this meant, he knew it wasn't a good sign. Ten minutes into their ministrations Johnny began to shiver so violently the wounds on his back started bleeding again. His eyes took on a far away look, and he started screaming once again for Jennifer to run while struggling to get off the ground.

        It was all Chris and Jennifer could do to keep Johnny in a prone position. They had to yell to be heard over the paramedic's panicked shouts.

        "Uncle Johnny, it's okay! Jennifer's okay! Uncle Johnny, please! You're bleeding again. Please, Uncle Johnny, calm down!"

        "Uncle Johnny, I'm right here! I'm okay! The man didn't get me!"

        Chris and Jennifer repeated their words over and over until Chris thought they made a little progress. It took several minutes, but Johnny finally calmed down and was no longer screaming for Jennifer to flee, but then his entire body went rigid right before he started twitching like he was having violent muscle spasms. The children sat back on their knees, their eyes round with terror. Jennifer was sure when the shaking stopped Uncle Johnny would be dead.

        Chris and Jennifer exhaled heavy sighs when Johnny's body finally relaxed. They watched the rise and fall of his chest, barely able to tear their eyes away from this movement that signified life.

        Jennifer looked at her brother. Her face was almost as pale as Johnny's.

        "What...what happened, Chris? What was wrong with him?"

        "I don't know. I think he might have had a convulsion."

        "What's that?"

        "I...it's like a buncha muscle spasms all at one time. The muscles get really tight and then start twitching."

        "What caused it?"

        "I...I don't know."

        "But what if it happens again? What will we do?"

        Chris jumped to his feet. "Geez, Jennifer, what do I look like to you, a paramedic? I don't know what caused it and I don't know what we'll do if it happens again! Dad would know what to do if he was here! And Uncle Johnny knows what to do only he's too sick to tell us! So I don't know! I just don't know! And quit your crying! Don't look at me like that, you big baby!"

        Chris stomped away from the campsite leaving Jennifer sitting beside Johnny with tears running down her face.

        The boy stopped when he came to where the horses were tied. Like his father, Chris had always found activity the best way to work through his anger. The boy fed the horses with the feed mixture Johnny had brought along. He was so mad at himself. He glanced at his watch and saw it was eight-thirty.

        How could I have slept that long? I knew Uncle Johnny needed me. I mighta been able to keep him from getting worse if I'd stayed awake. And what if that man had come back? He could have taken Jennifer and I'd have slept right through it.

        The boy glanced up when his sister joined him. He wondered if he looked as dirty and tired as she did. Dried tears streaked dusty tracks down her cheeks. The water from her tears had now mixed in with the face paint making her look more like a clown than an Indian. Red scratches from tree branches and prickly brush dotted her face as a result of their wild run through the woods during the night. Wide smears of Johnny's blood was on the front of her jean jacket and the sleeves of both arms. The knees of her jeans were stained with a mixture of grass, dirt, and blood, and her braids were so loose one could hardly call them braids any longer.

        "Chris...I'm sorry."

        "You don't have anything to be sorry about," the boy said as he finished feeding the animals. "I only got mad 'cause you were asking me questions I couldn't answer. I was upset with myself, not you. I...I'm scared, Jen. Uncle Johnny's really sick. He...he needs help bad."

        Jen looked back at the campsite where Johnny lay as still as death.

        "I wish Daddy was here. He'd know what to do."

        "I know. I wish Dad was here, too." Before Chris could give into the urge to cry he took a deep breath and stood up straighter. "Come on. Let's wash our hands and then eat some breakfast. There's granola bars in one of Uncle Johnny's saddlebags. We can eat a couple of those and wash 'em down with some juice."

        The children cleaned their hands in the stream, retrieved two bottles of orange juice, and fished granola bars out of Johnny's saddlebags. Chris also grabbed a peanut butter sandwich from amongst their stock to feed to Joe.

        Unlike the previous morning in Uncle Johnny's kitchen, breakfast was a solemn affair. The children had no more than finished when John had another convulsion. Chris felt tears burn his eyes when Johnny moaned in pain after the muscle spasms ended.

        With determination that went beyond his years Chris began to formulate a plan. Jennifer's words from earlier, I wish Daddy was here, echoed in Chris's head.

        That's what I gotta do. I gotta get Dad.

        Chris marched toward Cody. He tossed a blanket over the horse's back, then struggled to hoist the heavy saddle.

        "Jen, come here! I need your help!"

        Jennifer looked up from where she was wiping a damp cloth over Johnny's face.

        "What?"

        "Just come here!"

        The girl ran to her brother's side. "What are you doing?"

        "Saddling Cody."

        "Why?"

        "I'm gonna ride down to Uncle Johnny's and call Dad."

        "But, Chris, you can't ride Cody. Uncle Johnny won't let you. He's says Cody's too spirited."

        Chris knew that was exactly what Uncle Johnny said, but he also knew Cody was the fastest and most sure footed horse of the bunch.

        "Look, Jen, I've got no choice. I've got to get back to Uncle Johnny's as soon as I can. Now come on, help me."

        Jennifer glanced at Johnny one last time before turning to help Chris. She wouldn't argue with her brother further, or let him know how much it scared her to think of being left alone here in the woods with Uncle Johnny. What if that man came back? Uncle Johnny was hurt too badly to come to her aid this time.

        The children struggled to get the saddle on the tall gelding, but by working together they got the job done. Chris tightened the cinch, then made certain he had a full canteen. He hung the container over the saddle horn. While Jennifer watched he rummaged through the three sets of saddlebags, putting what few supplies he thought he'd need for himself in one bag including the keys to Johnny's house. Jen ran to the cold stream and pulled out two cans of pop for him and a bottle of juice. Chris smiled his thanks at his sister as he put those items in one of the leather bags along with a peanut butter sandwich. The remainder of the sandwiches, snacks, drinks, and canteens Chris left with Jennifer, along with the First Aid kit. The boy then knelt in front of his sister.

        "You know I have no choice but to go for help, right?"

        "I know."

        Even though Jennifer didn't voice her fear Chris could see it in her eyes.

        "I'd take you with me, but someone has to stay here with Uncle Johnny. He needs you, Jen, just like Nascha needed Katori. You gotta take care of him. You gotta give him a little water when he wakes up and wipe his mouth when he gets sick, and make sure he stays covered with the blankets."

        "But what if he dies, Chris?" Tears shimmered in Jennifer's blue eyes. "What if he..."

        The boy gave his sister a stern shake. "Don't say that. He's not gonna die. I just gotta get help to him, and you just gotta take care of him while I do that. We're partners now, Jen. Just like Uncle Johnny and Dad. So we gotta work together like they do in order to help Uncle Johnny. Can you do that? Can you take care of Uncle Johnny while I'm gone?"

        Though Jennifer wasn't feeling very confident about this whole situation, she nodded and tried to sound as brave as she could. "I can do that."

        "Good." Chris pulled his sister against his chest. They shared a long hug. When he released her he said, "I'm leaving Joe here. He'll protect you and Uncle Johnny. There's no need to be scared."

        "But what about you? What if that man..."

        "Cody runs real fast. I've seen Uncle Johnny practically fly while riding him. If that guy shows up I'll just kick Cody into high gear and hang on tight."

        Jennifer knew her brother's riding skills didn't come anywhere near matching Uncle Johnny's. If Chris was forced to kick Cody into 'high gear' as he put it, he'd most likely fall off and break his neck. But just like there were many things Chris was leaving unvoiced for fear of scaring his sister, Jennifer left some things unvoiced for fear of scaring Chris.

        "I guess that will work. Uncle Johnny says Cody can run like the wind."

        "He can," Chris confirmed.

        The eleven year old untied Cody and began leading him toward the trail that would take them down the mountain. Jennifer walked beside her brother, intending to say a final goodbye before he mounted up.

        Words buzzed around Johnny like pesky flies. He couldn't focus on the conversation at first, but as time went on and the speakers got closer to where he laid he was able to make sense of what they were saying.

        It hurt too much for the paramedic to move his body, but he tilted his head back against the pillows and caught sight of Chris with one foot in Cody's stirrup.

        John's voice was weak and hoarse, but he managed to make his words coherent and stern. "Chris, what are you doing?"

        The boy dropped his foot as quick as he'd pull his hand out of his mother's cookie jar.

        "Nothing, Uncle Johnny. Go back to sleep."

        "I wasn't sleeping. I was unconscious. There's a big difference between the two. Now get over here."

        The DeSoto children had always been taught to respect adults. Therefore Chris did has Johnny commanded.

        "Don't stand over me and make me look up at you. Get down here."

        The boy crouched by Johnny's head as Jennifer stood off to one side. She'd never seen Uncle Johnny this mad before. He never got angry with her and Chris.

        John had to fight around the sharp pain coming from what felt like every part of his body in order to keep his voice firm. He had a good idea what Chris was up to and he wasn't about to let the boy carry out his plan.

        "Why is Cody saddled, Chris?"

        "I...well because I'm going to ride down to your ranch and call my dad. You need help, Uncle Johnny. Me and Jen gotta get you off this mountain."

        "Your dad will come, Chris. Just give him time."

        "But it's only nine-thirty in the morning. They're not expecting us until six tonight! Uncle Johnny, we can't wait that long."

        Johnny gave the upset boy a tired grin. "Why? Got a hot date?"

        Chris shot to his feet, his hands balled in fists. "That's not funny, John! It's not funny at all! You need help and I'm gonna get it for you!"

        The boy spun on one heel and stomped toward Cody.

        "Chris! Chris, wait!" Johnny tried to push himself to an upright position but ended up falling back with a cry.

        Chris heard the anguished yell, and heard his sister trying to comfort Johnny, but he never turned around.

        The paramedic barely had the strength to call after the boy, "Chris! Christopher Roy DeSoto, when I get my hands on you I'm gonna tan your hide for disobeying me! Christopher! Chris!"

        Johnny was dimly aware of Jennifer running a cool cloth over his dry lips. His collarbone ached with each ragged breath he inhaled, his wrist was so swollen he couldn't have moved it had he wanted to, the knifed muscles of his injured leg and arm seemed to throb in time with his heart beat, and the jagged wounds in his back were bleeding again. A tear trickled down the side of his face that he hoped Jennifer didn't notice.

        Roy, I'm so sorry. I'm so damn sorry. First Jenny, now Chris. Oh damn. Damn, damn, damn.

        "Uncle Johnny, don't cry," Jennifer begged, her own tears running down her cheeks. "Please don't cry. Chris will be okay. We'll all be okay. I promise. I'll take care of you, and Joe will take care of me, and Cody will take care of Chris. So see, we'll be fine. We'll be just fine."

        John gazed up at the girl. He smiled when she wiped at the tears running into his hair.

        "I'm sorry, Peanut," he rasped around a dry throat. "This camping trip didn't turn out exactly like I had planned."

        "It's not your fault. You didn't know that man was here."

        "But I should have."

        "How?"

        "I...I just should have."

        John closed his eyes, not able to look into Jennifer's trusting gaze any longer.

        Jennifer scooted as close to Johnny as she could without touching him. She wasn't sure how she knew he was sad, she just did. Not knowing how else to help him, she started to sing a song that always made her happy no matter how bad of a day she was having.

        "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. So don't take my sunshine away."

        Tears ran more steadily down Johnny's cheeks as Jennifer sang her song over and over. In his mind he sang along with her. He wondered at the course of events of his life. Maybe this was how he was supposed to die, with a little girl by his side singing a song about being someone's sunshine.

        Johnny's right hand worked its way out of the blanket. Without opening his eyes he wrapped his arm around Jennifer's slim waist and pulled her to his chest, not caring that the movement caused him further pain, or made one of his many wounds start to bleed again. He held her close and felt her lay her small hand in his palm. He closed his fingers around her smooth skin.

        Jennifer was crying as she leaned forward and kissed her Uncle Johnny's cheek. Even after all he'd been through his face paint was still in place. Jen ran a finger of her free hand over the purple stripe.

        "Purple is for brother," she whispered through her tears. "And for uncle, too. We thank you, Great Father In The Sky for our brother and our uncle. Please keep him strong until my daddy gets here. He is called Katori. He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes. He's not the tallest, nor the shortest. He's not the fastest, or the slowest. He is not the strongest, or the weakest. But he is the bravest. He's the bravest and he saved me from that man. Now please save him. Please."

        As the morning wore on Jennifer remained wrapped in Johnny's arm, with her hand encased in his. Sometimes she sang, and sometimes she cried, and sometimes she wiped Johnny's face with water, but mostly she prayed, asking God to take care of her uncle, He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes.
        
        

Chapter 15

        

       Roy yawned and stretched, enjoying the feeling of still being in bed at nine o'clock on a Sunday morning. This relaxing weekend at home without the kids had been far more enjoyable than Roy could have imagined. He and Joanne had gone out to dinner and a movie the previous evening. They'd made love twice when they'd returned home around eleven o'clock, then fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. Roy missed his children, but he had to admit after the busy three day shift he'd had the previous week this was just what the doctor ordered. He smirked as he thought of his partner.

        I wonder how Johnny's holding up? I hope the kids aren't running him ragged.

        Joanne entered the room fresh from the shower. She gathered her robe up and sat down on the edge of the bed.

        "What are you smiling about?"

        "Oh, nothing. Just thinking of how much I've enjoyed the time we've had without the kids. Last week's shift was murder. I hope Chris and Jennifer are taking it easy on their old Uncle Johnny."

        Joanne laughed. "I've never known 'old Uncle Johnny' to run low on energy. Usually it's the kids who collapse with exhaustion long before he's out of steam."

        "That's true." Roy laced his fingers behind his head. "So. what do you have planned for today, Mrs. DeSoto?"

        "Same thing I had planned for yesterday. Nothing specific. Though while I was in the shower I was thinking that it might be nice to go out for a leisurely anniversary brunch."

        "Sounds good to me. Just let me shower, shave and get dressed. I'll be ready to leave in half an hour."

        "No hurry. I need to make the bed, then get dressed, too."

        Roy grabbed his robe from the end of the bed and wrapped it around himself as he stood. Joanne began making the bed while Roy rummaged through his closet. He reappeared with a pair of casual navy cotton trousers and a shortsleeved Oxford shirt striped in navy and white. He moved to his dresser to get underwear and socks.

        "Roy, why don't we drive over to Johnny's after we finish eating."

        "To Johnny's?" Roy shut his dresser drawer and turned around. "Why?"

        "I was just thinking that it would save him a trip over here. After all, he did do us a favor by taking the kids for the weekend. And he picked them up from school on Friday which meant he had to drive two hours round trip. Despite that endless Gage energy he'll no doubt be tired by six o'clock tonight. If we're waiting at his place when he and the kids get back then we can help him do his chores, give him and the kids time to hit the showers, and then take everyone out to dinner. Johnny likes that steak house that's not too far from his place. We could got there. The kids can get hamburgers, you and John can get T-bones, and I can get shrimp."

        "That's fine with me."

        "What time do you think they'll be back?"

        "Oh, I suppose anywhere between one and three. No later than that I'm sure."

        "Great. We can put the Sunday paper in the car for you, and I'll take the novel I've been reading, and we can sit out on Johnny's deck until they get there."

        "You mean I can nap on Johnny's deck until they get there?"

        "Nap? Roy, you just woke up!"

        "Can I help it if I'm tired?" Roy smiled and waggled his eyebrows. "You've been keeping me mighty busy this weekend, Mrs. DeSoto."

        Joanne crossed the room. She wrapped her arms around her husband's neck.

        "So I take it you like this kind of busy better than my Honey-do lists?"

        "You could say that."
        
        Joanne stood on her tiptoes until her lips met Roy's. They exchanged a long kiss right before he picked her up and carried her to the bed.

        "What about that brunch?" the woman asked.

        Roy chuckled as he untied the belt on his wife's robe. "We'll grab some doughnuts on the way to Johnny's."

        Joanne didn't have time to protest her husband's teasing before she was lost in a wave of passion.

Chapter 16

        
        Chris clung to Cody's reins as the horse made his way down the mountain trail. The horse was as sure-footed as Chris had told his sister, but he was also high-spirited like Jennifer said. The boy had all he could do to handle the gelding. Chris was glad now that he'd slipped into the woods before saddling Cody and emptied his bladder. He didn't want to dismount the horse until he got to Uncle Johnny's. He was afraid if he did Cody would take off on him.
        
        Chris managed to take a sip of water from the canteen, then recapped it and hung it back over the saddle horn. It was a good thing he was too upset to eat. He'd never be able to turn around and get a sandwich out of the saddlebags without being dumped from Cody's back.
        
        The boy kept his eyes on the trail like John had taught him. He glanced to his left and right every few seconds just to make sure he was alone. He tried not to think of the man who had attempted to kidnap Jennifer. Chris wasn't nearly as confident of his ability to stay on Cody's back as he'd led Jennifer to believe should he be forced to kick the horse into a gallop. The trail was so steep for the next two miles more than likely Chris would slide forward and tumble head first over the horse's neck.
        
        Chris thought of John's threat to tan his hide for disobeying him. He prayed he was doing the right thing as he and Cody made steady progress forward. If he should fall off the horse, or if Cody stepped in a hole and ended up lame, then what good would Chris do Johnny? Maybe he should have listened to John and stayed at the campsite.
        
        No, I couldn't. I had no choice. I could tell by looking in Uncle Johnny's eyes that he knew he'd never live until my dad figured out something was wrong. It would have been late tonight before Dad got to our camp, or maybe not until tomorrow morning even.
        
        For the first time in all his eleven years Christopher DeSoto knew what it was like to be an adult. Uncle Johnny had risked his life to keep that man from taking Jennifer. By trying to stop Chris from going for help, Uncle Johnny was willing to risk his life again in order to keep his best friend's children free from harm. Now Chris fully understood the legend of He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes. It wasn't easy being brave. As a matter of fact you had to be scared before you could be brave. Chris had been scared ever since he saw that man clutching Jennifer and stabbing Uncle Johnny, but from that moment on he'd done what he had to in order to help first his sister, and then his father's partner. Now leaving Johnny and Jennifer behind was scary, too. Going for help on the back of a high-strung horse while traveling through woods where a kidnapper might be hiding was scary as well. But what frightened Chris even more was the thought that his Uncle Johnny might be dead before he could get him the assistance he needed. He recalled Johnny's words from the previous evening.
        
        You don't have to be the bravest, or the strongest, or the fastest, or the smartest, or the most handsome, to stand out in your tribe. All you have to be is good, and honorable, and decent, and help those who can't help themselves.
        
        "That's what you are, Uncle Johnny," the boy said aloud. "Good, and honorable, and decent. I wanna be just like you when I grow up. That's why I had to disobey you. I had to help you 'cause right now you can't help yourself. I hope I get the chance to explain that to you." The boy turned his eyes toward the vast blue sky. "Oh please give me the chance to explain that to him. Please give me that chance."

_________________________        

        
        Jennifer tried to squirm from her Uncle Johnny's grasp. He was holding her really tight now and mumbling words she couldn't understand. His eyes looked funny, glassy and vacant like the eyes of her dolls. His coughing had increased since Chris left which only seemed to cause him more pain.
        
        The girl reached for a dry towel. Wiping the beads of cold perspiration from Uncle Johnny's face seemed to help a little, but when his eyes roamed to her they were flat and unseeing. Jennifer could barely understand John's urgent words.
        
        "Stay with me, Jen. Don't leave. Don't go...don't go near him."
        
        "I won't, Uncle Johnny."
        
        "I...I'll keep you...keep you safe. I will. I prom...promise."
        
        "I know. I'm not afraid."
        
        John looked around, confusion furrowing his dark eyebrows. "Jenny? Jennifer?"
        
        "I'm right here, Uncle Johnny. You're hugging me. I'm right here."
        
        "Tell your dad...tell him I did...did my best. Tell him...tell him I'm sorry."
        
        Jennifer bit back her tears. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, Uncle Johnny. Daddy will know that. He won't be mad at you. I'm gonna tell him you're as brave as He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes. I'm gonna tell him all about it, Uncle Johnny."
        
         Jennifer's voice slowly brought John a bit more alert. He smiled up at his nurse as though he was just now realizing she was wrapped in the crook of his arm.
        
        "Hey, Jenny...Bean."
        
        "Hi, Uncle Johnny."
        
        The paramedic's eyes traveled the campsite. "Did Chris...come back?"
        
        "No. Not yet. But he hasn't been gone very long."
        
        "He...he shouldn't have left. I don't know what...what I'll tell your dad...if something happens to him."
        
        "I'll tell Daddy you told Chris not to go. If he gets mad I'll tell him Chris disobeyed you."
        
        "No, no. Don't you go bein' a tattle...tale. You know I don't...like tattle...tales."
        
        Jennifer said the only other thing she could think of in an attempt to ease Johnny's mind. "Chris will be okay, Uncle Johnny. He'll be careful."
        
        Johnny merely nodded. If nothing else he knew he'd taught Chris well when it came to the rules of the outdoors and horsemanship. Overall the boy shouldn't have any problems getting back to the ranch provided Cody behaved himself, and that man didn't show up anywhere along the way. That's what had Johnny worried, that the man would get Chris, or come back for Jennifer, and there'd be nothing he could do to stop him.
        
        "Peanut, don't leave, okay?" John whispered between coughs. "You stay right here with me."
        
        "I will."
        
        "No matter what happens...I'll take care of you, Jen."
        
        "I know. But nothing's going to happen. Or at least not anything until Daddy gets here. Then Chet will probably show up, too, and start making bad jokes."
        
        Johnny couldn't help but smile. "Probably. Juz...juz tell your dad...to give me...give me lots of morphine...'fore that happens."
        
        "What's morphine?"
        
        "A pain killer. And if you get...enough of it...the world could blow up and that thought wouldn't...cause you any worry. So see...if I have some...'fore Chet gets here...I won't even care 'bout his dumb ole' jokes. They won't...bother me...a bit."
        
        John coughed again. Jennifer didn't know what was wrong, but she thought he was having a hard time getting a deep breath.
        
        "Uncle Johnny, is there anything I can do for you? Do you want something to eat? Chris left sandwiches and cookies with us."
        
        John gave a tiny, negative shake of his head. "No. Don't need...anything. Juz you. You stay...right here...by me."
        
        Once again Jennifer assured John she wouldn't leave his side. After Johnny's eyes slid shut the girl dropped her weary head to her knees. The sun was warm, but not so warm that she wanted to take off her jacket. Joe still sat a few feet from her keeping watch over the campsite. She was glad Chris left the dog behind. She wasn't so scared with him here. She would be scared if it got dark before her dad arrived, but Jennifer refused to consider that possibility. Chris would get to Uncle Johnny's house around lunchtime and call Daddy. If their parents weren't home then Chris would call fire department. He had already told Jennifer those things so that she knew, one way or another, help would be arriving before the sun set.
        
        Jennifer allowed her tired body to slump sideways. She reached for her blanket with her right hand and covered her legs. Without moving from the crook of Johnny's arm she curled up next to him and fell asleep.
        

_________________________        

        Roy and Joanne arrived at Johnny's ranch a few minutes after twelve. Roy patted his full stomach as he got out of the pale green Impala that was the DeSoto family car.

        "It feels good to stand."

        "Eat too much?" his wife teased.

        "Of course. With all that food just sitting there for the taking who wouldn't?"

        The woman nodded. "We'll have to take Johnny there some Sunday morning. He'd definitely get his money's worth from the kind of spread Hoolihan's puts on."

        "I'll say. I never saw anyone who can eat as much Johnny and not gain an ounce."

        "That's because he's got what they now call a 'high metabolism'. I bet when he was in school he drove his teachers crazy. You know, one of those kids who just couldn't sit still."

        Roy snorted. "Not much has changed, believe me."

        Joanne opened the back passenger door and started to reach for the book and Sunday paper she'd brought along.

        "Leave those there for now. Let's take a little stroll. Maybe walk some of that food off."

        Joanne did as her husband requested. It was perfect walking weather. The sun was shining and the temperature hovered at seventy degrees.

        Roy held his hand out to his wife. The couple strolled toward the barn with palms firmly clasped. Roy unlatched the barn door and they stepped inside the cool structure. Yuma's soulful eyes seemed to plead with them to let him into the corral.

        "Hey, Yuma," Joanne greeted as she rubbed a hand up and down the horse's nose. "Johnny and the kids will be back soon along with your horsy friends."

        "Horsy friends?" Roy asked with a hint of amusement.

        "Well, sure. Don't you think a horse gets lonely and misses his stall mates when they're gone?"

        "I don't know. I never really thought about it. Guess you'll have to ask Johnny that."

        "I don't need to. I can tell just by looking at this guy's sad face."

        The woman bent and petted the cat who had come to rub against her legs. "Hi, Mrs. Gage. Are you taking good care of your kittens?"

        "If I ever wondered where Jennifer gets her love of animals from I don't need to any longer."

        "Oh, you," Joanne playfully poked her husband in the stomach. "It wouldn't do a bit of harm to let her have one of Mrs. Gage's kittens, you know. A little cat hair in the house never hurt anyone."

        "Don't even think it. I'm sure Jen's already asked Johnny for one and I'm sure he's already said yes. Which means I'm going to have to be the mean old daddy who breaks his little girl's heart by telling her no. The least you can do is back me up."

        "Roy..."

        "No," the man shook his head. "No cat. They jump on countertops. They shed. They knead your bare legs with their claws and they have fleas."

        "A flea collar will take care of the latter, and as far as the former goes we could have it declawed."

        "No."

        "All right," Joanne sighed. "But don't be surprised if Jen throws a tantrum and once again threatens to run away and live with Uncle Johnny."

        "I won't be. Besides, she's never made good on that threat yet."

        "There's always a first time."

        The couple exited the barn, leaving Yuma and Mrs. Gage to their own devices. They walked around John's property for another twenty minutes, then headed for the house. Joanne went to the car to retrieve their reading material while Roy pulled his key ring from a pant pocket. He plucked up the key that would let him into John's house, entering through the side door. He walked through the laundry room, heading for the bathroom next door. After making use of the facilities the man entered the main part of the house. He unlocked the sliding glass doors that opened from the dining area and talked to his wife through the screen.

        "You want anything to drink?"

        Joanne looked up from the chaise lounge she had claimed. "No, I'm fine."

        Roy grabbed a Coke from the refrigerator for himself. He looked around the house, still somewhat amazed at how neat and clean Johnny kept it. John had never been this good of a housekeeper when he'd had his apartment. Roy didn't know what had caused his partner to change his ways, other than to assume it was a combination of pride in ownership and some added maturity.

        The paramedic smiled when he thought back to the first few months he and Johnny had begun working together. Although there had never been a time when the two men didn't like one another, Roy would have never imagined all those years ago there would come a day when he and Johnny would grow so close that he would feel comfortable walking into his partner's house when John was absent and grab a drink from the fridge. But then Johnny felt that comfortable in Roy's home as well. Roy knew the bond they shared as friends and co-workers
went beyond what many people had with their own siblings.

        The blond man walked out to the deck, sliding the screen door shut behind him. He sat in the padded lounger next to Joanne's and stretched his legs out in front of him. Joanne pointed to the newspaper she had laying on the deck between the two chairs.

        "There's your paper."

        "I'll look at it later." Roy drained the last of the Coke from his can. "The sun feels good. Think I'll take a little nap. Wake me up if I'm still sleeping when Johnny and the kids get here."

        "Oh, I'm sure Johnny and the kids will do that quite well without my assistance."

        Roy set his empty soda can under his chair, then laid back against the cushion and closed his eyes. "Just don't let them wake me up Johnny Gage style."

        "And what exactly does that mean?"

        "Oh, you know. Like throwing a bucket of water over me, or stuffing ice cubes down my shirt, or smearing my face with Vaseline."

        "Aw, come on, Roy. You're no fun."

        Roy opened one eye and pointed a stern finger at his wife. "I'm counting on you to make sure our children behave. And that your third child behaves as well."

        "Goodness, but it's that overgrown third child of mine who seems to cause us the most problems."

        "You're right, Mrs. DeSoto, and I really wish you'd take that matter in hand."

        The last thing Roy heard before he drifted off to sleep was the sound of his wife's soft laughter.

        
        Chris's arms ached from gripping Cody's reins for so long, and his butt was sore from his three hour trip in the saddle. The boy gritted his teeth as the horse continued to make his way down the steep incline. Just when Chris thought he couldn't hang on one more minute he saw the flat clearing of land below that meant he was just a quarter of a mile from Uncle Johnny's house. Cody saw the clearing, too. As soon as his hooves hit level ground he broke into an all out run, ready to get some well deserved exercise after the tedious trip down the mountain.

        Chris hung on for dear life. He pulled back on the reins, shouting, "Whoa, Cody! Whoa!," but to no avail. Cody was used to Johnny allowing him this freedom each time they came off the mountain trail, and no half grown boy was going to keep this fun from him.

        "Cody, stop!" Chris yelled. "Stop!"

        He didn't know what was worse, his sore butt being bounced up and down in the saddle, or the fear of falling from the galloping horse. The boy grabbed a handful of Cody's mane and prayed that somehow, the steed would know to stop when he came to Johnny's barn.

_________________________

        
        Roy had no more than gotten to sleep when he heard his son shouts. He opened one eye and turned to look at Joanne.

        "Here they come now."

        The man pushed himself to his feet and moved to stand by the deck railing. From this vantage point he'd be able to see the campers when they first made their appearance a few hundred yards from the barn. Joanne marked her place in her book, set it on the lounge, then stood as well. She crossed the deck to where Roy was standing.

        "Chris sounds like he's having fun," the woman commented.

        "Only John Gage would bring our kids back from a camping trip wound up instead of dead tired," Roy lamented with mock long suffering.

        It wasn't until Chris came into view that Roy realized something was drastically wrong.

        "What the--why the hell is Johnny letting him ride Cody? That horse is too wild for Chris." Roy started down the steps. "And where is Johnny anyway?"

        "Whoa!" Chris screamed, pulling back on the reins with all the strength he had left. "Whoa, Cody! Stop!"

        The horse ran straight for the corral gates. For a few terror-filled seconds both Roy and Chris were sure the animal was going to plow right through those iron barriers.

        "Whoa, Cody! Whoa!"

        Roy raced across the ranch yard, Joanne at his heels. He had no idea how he'd stop the horse, and all he could think of was when he got a hold of Johnny he'd break his neck for allowing Chris to ride an animal he wasn't experienced enough to handle.

        Gage had better be praying right this very minute that this idiot horse doesn't hurt my boy.

        By no means was Cody the fool Roy took him for. He knew exactly what he was doing and found it amusing that everyone was making such a fuss. When he got within twenty feet of the corral gate he slowed to a comfortable gallop. Within ten feet he was trotting. Within five he was walking. When he arrived at the corral he stopped, waiting for the boy on his back to open the gates and allow him entrance.

        Chris whimpered when he lifted his right leg over Cody's back. He clung to the saddle horn as he slid to the ground. It took a moment for his aching legs to remember how to support his weight. He turned around and saw his father running to him. It was then that Chris released the emotions he'd held in tight restrain ever since he'd been forced to flee into the night as his sister's protector.

        Tears spilled from Chris's eyes as he hobbled toward Roy. He held out his arms and sobbed a word he hadn't used in years. "Daddy! Daddy!"

        Roy engulfed the dirty, crying boy. He pulled Chris to his chest and held him tight while rubbing a hand over the trembling child's back.

        "Shhh. Don't cry. You're okay. You're fine. Don't cry, son. Don't cry."

        "Daddy. Oh, Daddy."

        Roy crouched down and gently grasped his son's shoulders. He was vaguely aware of Joanne kneeling beside him and heard her question, "Chris,...honey?" as she took in their son's disheveled appearance. The woman's heart skipped a beat.

        He hasn't called Roy 'Daddy' in years now. And I don't remember when the last time was he cried in front of either one of us.

        Roy could see no signs of injury other than the scratches that dotted Chris's pale face from chin to forehead. Paint was streaked on his cheeks in a mass of indistinguishable colors and mixed now with dirt churned up by Cody's hooves.

Roy could barely speak around his clenched jaw. Fury gleamed from his blue eyes.

        "Where the hell is your Uncle Johnny?" Roy looked over Chris's shoulder toward the clearing the boy had just appeared from. "And Jennifer? Where is she at? Is Johnny letting her race around on the back of a horse she has no business riding, too? What's that fool trying to do, get you both killed? When I get a hold of Gage I swear I'll..."

        "Daddy! Dad, please. You gotta hurry!" Chris grabbed Roy's hand and started pulling him toward the trail. "We gotta get back up there now!"

        "Up where?" Roy held tight, preventing his son from taking him anywhere. The blond man tried to quell the panic that was once again rising inside him. "Chris, calm down. What is it? Where's Jennifer? Has she been hurt?"

        "She's fine. She's with Uncle Johnny. I had no choice! I didn't want to leave her. Honest I didn't! But I had to. I had to get help!"

        Now that Roy knew both his children were all right he was able to rein in his own emotions. His many years of paramedic experience told him he had to calm Chris down in order to get a coherent story from him.

        Roy turned Chris so he could once again put his hands on his son's upper arms while looking into his eyes. This time he spoke in his normal tone of voice.

        "Why do you have to get help, Chris? What's happened?"

        Sobs overtook the boy again, preventing him from doing more than stuttering over a few meaningless syllables.

        Though Joanne's panic was increasing with each second that passed without any signs of Jennifer or Johnny, the woman followed her husband's lead and kept her emotions in check when she spoke to her son.

        "Chris, you've got to calm down, sweetie. Take a deep breath and then tell Daddy what's wrong."

        The boy did as his mother told him. He was surprised to find that deep breath really helped.

        "A man...a man came into our camp last night after we'd gone to bed. We were sleeping. He took Jennifer and..."

        Roy exclaimed, "What!" while Joanne gave a strangled gasp.

        "He tried to run away with Jen but Uncle Johnny stopped him. He...he knocked the man to the ground, but he wouldn't let go of Jen. Uncle Johnny was tugging at Jen, trying to get her away from the man, and then the man stabbed him. I ran over to Uncle Johnny and helped him. The man...he stabbed Uncle Johnny again, but somehow we got Jen away from him. Uncle Johnny yelled for me to take Jen to the Pow Wow. I knew he meant the cave and that he wanted me and Jen to hide there. So I did. I grabbed Jen's hand and we ran as fast as we could until we got to the cave. A couple hours passed and when Uncle Johnny didn't come for us I knew something was wrong. Me and Jen snuck back to the camp. The man was gone, but Uncle Johnny was layin' on the ground." Tears started running down Chris's face again, but he ignored them in an effort to finish his story. "The man stabbed him three more times after Jen and I got away."

        "Oh my God," Roy mumbled, now even paler than his distraught son. "Chris, is he still..."

        Chris knew what his father was trying to ask. The boy nodded his head.

        "Uncle Johnny told us how to help. Me and Jen did the best we could to stop the bleeding using the towels and sheets Mom sent along. Then we covered him up with blankets. But he kept getting worse. He...he kept losing consciousness and when he was awake sometimes he didn't know where he was. He was throwing up blood this morning, and then he had two convulsions I think. That's when I knew I had to get help. Uncle Johnny was mad at me for leaving. He told me not to. But I had to, Dad. He needs help. So I saddled Cody 'cause he's the fastest and I left Joe with Jennifer and Uncle Johnny 'cause I know he'll protect them."

        Roy pulled his boy to him and gave him a quick, firm hug. "You did the right thing, son."

        Roy released Chris and ran for the house. Joanne took her son by the hand. They ran along behind Roy knowing he was headed for the phone.

        Joanne and Chris listened as Roy called L.A. dispatch. He identified himself to Sam Lanier, then explained the situation with the detached professionalism he needed to rely on now in order to get help to Johnny. Without asking Roy knew the dispatcher would be sending out the paramedics from Station 17. They'd have to pass right by John's ranch on their way to the scene.

        "Tell them I'll be waiting at the end of Gage's driveway. I'll direct them to the campsite. And we'll need a Flight For Life chopper on stand by. If Gage is as bad as my son says we'll have to fly him out of there."

        Roy also requested that dispatch notify the police of an attempted abduction and attempted homicide. He thought of the wounds Chris had said Johnny suffered and hoped the word 'attempted' when it was attached to 'homicide' still held true.

        Roy's instructions were acknowledged on the other end. He hung up the phone and headed for the door, talking to Joanne as he walked at a rapid clip.

       "The only way to get up to the campsite is by the old fire road off highway 65. It'll take us within four miles of where Johnny and Jennifer are. I'll ride with the guys from 17's, then hike the rest of the way in with them. Call Rampart and ask for Dixie. If she's not there ask for Brackett or Early. One of them's bound to be on duty. Tell them what's going on. Because of the mountains I don't think we'll be able to contact them until we're in the chopper and off the ground. I want them to be as prepared for Johnny's arrival as they can be. Then call Hank Stanley. He'll want to know what's happening."

        "Okay," Joanne acknowledged.

        As the family stepped outside they could hear Squad 17's siren in the distance. Roy took off running for the end of the driveway with Joanne calling after him, "Chris and I will meet you at Rampart!"

        The paramedic waved a hand in the air in acknowledgment of his wife's words. The red squad barely came to a stop before Roy was opening the passenger door and climbing in.

        Chris and Joanne watched as the squad backed out of Johnny's driveway, then headed east with its lights flashing and siren blaring. A few seconds later two police cars flew by the ranch, their lights and sirens going as well.

        Chris looked up at his mother. "I wanted to go back up there with Dad. Maybe I could have helped."

        "Honey, your dad will have all the help he needs." Joanne looked toward the corral fence where Cody still stood, munching on grass. "Besides, Cody, Yuma, and Mrs. Gage have to be fed and given fresh water, then you can get a hot shower while I call the hospital and Captain Stanley."

        Joanne placed a hand on her son's back as they walked together toward the barn.

        "But what about Cheyenne and Niabi? Someone's got to bring them back here. And Joe, too."

        "I'll call Mr. Emery. I'm sure he'll go up and get the horses. As far as Joe goes, your father will see to it that he gets down somehow."

        Chris gave a reluctant nod as he mother opened the barn door. He grabbed a hold of Cody's reins and led the horse to his stall. Mr. Emery was a retired fireman who had a ranch near Uncle Johnny's. He owned horses, too, and was a good friend of John's. Chris knew his mother was right. Mr. Emery would bring the horses down the mountain along with anything else that was left behind like backpacks and saddle bags, but still, Chris wanted to be up there.

        Joanne gave her son an understanding smile while they scurried around the barn getting the chores taken care of.

        "I know you're worried, Chris. I know you want to be with Johnny and Jennifer just as much as I want to be with them. But right now we're doing other things that have to be accomplished like feeding the animals and calling the people Daddy asked us to. These things are just as important."

        "I suppose. But still, I'd rather be with Dad."

        Joanne pulled her son into a hug. She kissed the top of his head while running a hand up and down his back. "I know," she whispered as she thought of her daughter and Johnny alone on that mountain with the possibility of their attacker lurking somewhere nearby. Joanne did the only thing she could, offered up a silent prayer asking God to keep Jennifer and Johnny safe until Roy arrived.

        Hurry, Roy. Hurry.

Chapter 17

        Jennifer slept peacefully wrapped in Johnny's right arm. The long, terrifying night had worn the child out.

        As the morning passed Johnny continued to drift in and out of consciousness. He was so thirsty, and now had a severe headache to go along with the rest of his maladies, not to mention that blood speckled his lips and the skin surrounding his mouth each time he coughed. Because of that, and because of the difficulty he was having drawing a deep breath, Johnny suspected the knife had hit one of his lungs. John knew his thirst and the headache were indications of both shock and dehydration. If it wasn't that he had to take care of Jennifer, to keep her safe from the man who had invaded their campsite the night before, Johnny was certain he would have allowed his body to shut down completely like it seemed to be begging him to do. But the thought of Jennifer left alone to fend for herself until help arrived is what gave the paramedic the incentive to go on breathing no matter how painful it was. Despite all he'd been through, he kept his mind focused on one thing.

        I gotta take care of Jen. Can't let anyone hurt her. Could never face Roy if something happened to her.

_________________________

        
        Evan Crammer crept through the woods without making a sound. Once he'd crossed the stream he'd slowed his pace considerably. The last thing he wanted to do was alert the dog of his presence near the campsite.

        The man used his right hand to push aside bramble and brush, while keeping his eyes on the ground. He stepped over logs and around bushes, not desiring to have even the smallest mishap.

        Evan wondered what he would find when the camp finally came into view. Perhaps this hike would have been for nothing. The children might be long gone by now, having fled down the mountain to safety hours earlier. But for some reason Evan's gut instinct told him that wasn't the case. It had been apparent to him that those kids loved their Uncle Johnny with a type of undying devotion he'd never felt toward anyone in his life. Unless Uncle Johnny was dead, Evan had a feeling the children came back sometime during the night from wherever it was they'd run to, and were no doubt tending to the redskin at this very moment.

        Evan fantasized about what he'd do when he found the campers. The boy. He'd choke the life right out of that pesky boy. He'd wrap his hands around the kid's throat and squeeze until the blood vessels popped in his eyes. After what the kid had done, coming to his uncle's aid and running off with Jennifer, he deserved to die the slow, terrifying death that came from being choked by another human being.

        Then there was the man. Uncle Johnny. The thought of killing him brought Evan pure joy. He hadn't quite decided yet how he was going to finish the Indian off, though the thought of finding his knife and literally scalping the son of a bitch was an appealing one. Appealing and amusing.

        Just what his kind deserves. That will teach the bastard to interfere with my plans.

        After Chris and Johnny were disposed of that left little Jennifer. Evan had no doubts about what he'd do with her. He'd done it with so many other angels he didn't even have to think about it any longer. Didn't have to consciously go over his actions before carrying them out.

        Soon Jennifer, Evan smiled as he came within a quarter of a mile of the camp site. Soon you'll be mine, sweetheart, just like you should have been last night.

_________________________

        It was Joe's barking that woke Jennifer from a sound sleep. She had no idea how long Chris had been gone, but by the way her stomach was growling Jen knew it was well after lunch time. She sat up, but couldn't wiggle out of Johnny's grasp. Joe's barking unnerved the little girl.

        What if that man is back! I can't run to the Pow Wow cave and leave Uncle Johnny here by himself.

        "Uncle Johnny! Uncle Johnny, please! Let me go! Joe's barking! Uncle Johnny!"

        Johnny was vaguely aware of his dog barking and Jennifer's frantic pleas. He pulled her even closer, pinning her to his chest.

        "Uncle Johnny! Uncle Johnny, please!" Jennifer's heart hammered in her chest as Joe ran to the edge of the woods where the man had been hiding the night before. "Please! I think the man's back! Tell me what to do! Please!"

        "No...no," Johnny mumbled without opening his eyes. "I...I'll take care...you. No. No. Stay...me. Stay."

        Jennifer tried to break Johnny's hold by prying her fingers between his hand and her arm. Her shouts had now changed to terrified whispers as Joe began to growl deep in his throat and creep toward the woods with shoulders hunched like a rabid wolf ready to go on the attack.

        "Uncle Johnny! Oh, please! Please, Uncle Johnny!"

        Jennifer's terror broke through the paramedic's semi-conscious state. His eyes popped open. He had no more than a few available seconds to assess what was happening. He stifled a scream as he shot his body off the ground and did the only thing he could in order to protect Roy's daughter.

Chapter 18

        Squad 17 came to a halt behind a white Chevy pickup. The two Los Angeles County Deputy Sheriff's cars did the same. While the paramedics gathered equipment from the squad's compartments the four sheriff's deputies that had emerged from the two cars began combing the area. The oldest amongst, a red headed sergeant Roy guessed to be in his late thirties, ignored the need for a search warrant when he opened the driver's side door of the pickup. He stretched his body across the front seat and rifled through the glove compartment.

        As Roy helped 17's paramedics put the drug box, trauma box, bio-phone, backboard, oxygen tank, and two blanket packs in the Stokes, he heard the sergeant say to one of his men, "There's no registration papers."

        Roy didn't think too much of the truck one way or another. He knew it was possible that it belonged to whoever had attacked Johnny and tried to run off with Jennifer, but it could just as easily belong to another camper, or a guy out for a day of fishing. Or at least those were Roy's conclusions until Sergeant Garret pulled a roll of duct tape and several lengths of rope from beneath the truck's front seat. Roy saw the look that passed between the sergeant and his men. The youngest amongst them simply shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "So what? It's not a crime to have duct tape and rope in your vehicle." But the other three, who were evidently far more experienced in the ways of child molesters, wore expressions that told Roy the Chevrolet just might belong to more than a Sunday afternoon fisherman.

        Roy didn't know Station 17's B-shift paramedics, Tom Ketchum and Archer Doyle other than by reputation. At the present time Archer was the only black paramedic in L.A. County. He was built like the middle-weight boxer he was in his off-time. He had a reputation for being highly skilled and efficient, while at the same time possessing a gentle, bed-side manner that often came as a surprise to those who took notice of the beefy hands that always possessed a twisted knuckle or two, and the nose that had been broken so many times Archer had lost count.

        Tom Ketchum was a fair as his partner was dark. At five-foot six inches tall he just met the height requirements for the fire department. With his white hair, sky blue eyes, and slender frame he looked like he was still in high school as opposed to being a twenty-seven year old father of three. Like his partner, Tom was devoted to the paramedic program. Though Roy had been wishing he knew the two men better when they first picked him up at Johnny's, by the time the three of them were carrying the stokes across the stream he had no doubts John would be in good hands.

        One cop stayed behind to search the area around the pickup while Sergeant Garret and the two remaining officers followed the paramedics. Roy was glad he'd left his dress shoes at home that morning, and instead wore thick-soled brown 'Earth shoes' as was the popular phrase for his footwear. If nothing else they were as easy to walk in as a tennis shoe, though admittedly not waterproof when one was forced to wade through shin deep water in a wide stream.

        Until now Roy hadn't time to think about the possible danger still threatening his little girl. The story Chris had relayed about a man sneaking into the campsite in the middle of the night and snatching Jennifer from her bed seemed more like a nightmare than reality. But just one look at Chris's face had told Roy this tale was not the product of an overactive imagination, but was indeed the truth. As the paramedic now led the way to the peaceful place he'd camped at least half a dozen times with his partner and children, he wondered what he would find. If Johnny was dead and Jennifer gone...

        Roy tried not to dwell on those possibilities as he forged ahead carrying the front end of the loaded stokes.

        They'll be okay. They'll both be okay, Roy repeated over and over with each step he took in the cold water. He tried not to pay attention to the three cops who walked to various sides of the stokes and were on alert for anyone they might come across, nor to the quiet words being exchanged behind him between Archer and Tom as they discussed the course of action they'd take should they find Johnny in the condition Chris described.

        They'll be okay. They'll both be okay.

        It was the rhythm of those words that kept Roy DeSoto trudging toward the distant woods.
        

Chapter 19

        

        Evan Crammer burst from the trees so overcome with rage that he took scant notice of the dog leaping toward his chest. One violent swing of the billy club sent Joe sailing across the campsite. The Malamute landed against a tree with a solid thud. He lay dazed and whimpering, unable now to help his master.

        Johnny was on his knees curled in a ball. The blankets Chris and Jennifer had laid over him were still in place, their hems now dragging the ground.

        He heard Evan's roar, then Joe's cries. The ground seemed to shake as the large man thundered toward him.

        "Where is she? Where's the girl goddammit! Where's the girl?"

John couldn't have answered the man if he'd wanted to. The first blow from the billy club landed across the center of his arched spine. The second blow popped his right shoulder from its socket. The third blow reopened the knife wounds on his back. The paramedic's limbs were trembling as he tried to hold his body in place. He'd take however many blows were necessary. Surely the man would soon tire of his game and leave.

        Johnny cried out when a forth blow crashed against his lower back. The pain almost caused his knees to fly out from under him, but he held his ground, and the precious bundle he was hiding underneath the blankets.

        Jennifer had no idea what was happening. She felt Uncle Johnny's body slamming against her and could only imagine that the man was beating Johnny with his fists. Her mouth was covered by Johnny's right hand. As tears streamed down her face Jennifer tried so hard to be quiet as Uncle Johnny had told her she must. Her heart attempted to escape from her chest as she remained hidden beneath the stuffy blankets, certain that Uncle Johnny's lifeless body would soon collapse on top of her.
        
        

_________________________

        
        The men were only a few feet into the woods when they heard the shouts.

        "Where is she? Where's the girl? Damn you! You tell me where the girl is! Where is she?"

        Roy dropped the front of the Stokes and raced ahead of the three deputies. He ignored Doug Garret's shouts of, "DeSoto, wait! Stop!"

        Tom scampered to take Roy's place. He and Archer followed after Roy and the running deputies at a trot. Despite their own sense of urgency the last thing they wanted to do was trip over a log and dump their expensive equipment on the ground.

        When Roy first burst into the campsite he could only guess at what he was seeing. A man well beyond six feet in height stood over a bundle of blankets swinging a billy club. It was the repeated sickening 'thuds' the club made that indicated to Roy it was striking a person.

        Evan Crammer turned when he heard Roy crash through the brush. For a brief moment he seemed to be weighing his options. The sound of more running footsteps caused him to abandon his quest and take off for the opposite side of the woods. He fled down the same path Jennifer and Chris had taken to the Pow Wow Cave.

        Roy barely paid attention to the deputies who flew by him. In what seemed like slow motion, the person under the blankets rolled to his side as his body slumped to the ground. Johnny's arms went slack, allowing Jennifer to wiggle out from her hiding place. She gave a tear-filled cry of joy at the first face she saw.

        "Daddy! Daddy!"

        Jennifer pushed herself off the ground and ran into her father's open arms. Roy scooped his daughter up. He felt her wrap her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist in a near death grip. He held her, and kissed her, and swayed side to side with her, while running one hand through her tangled hair as she sobbed into the collar of his shirt.

        Tom and Archer were at Johnny's side within seconds of Jennifer bursting from her cocoon. Behind them they heard Jennifer's murmured, "Daddy. Oh, Daddy," repeated over and over again as they quickly assessed Johnny's condition.

        Like Roy had suspected, contact with Rampart was impossible. The bio-phone proved useless, but Archer was prepared for that. Using his Handie Talkie he contacted the Flight For Life Helicopter that was on stand-by. When he cut the transmission he looked back at Roy.

        "The chopper's ETA is ten minutes, Roy. He'll hover over the stream. That's the clearest spot we've got that's close. We're gonna have to wrap and run."

        Roy understood what the man meant. Until they could make contact with Rampart use of any drugs was prohibited. The aid they could give Johnny now didn't go much beyond what Chris and Jennifer had already done.

        Roy watched as Archer and Tom took Johnny's blood pressure, pulse, and counted respirations then slipped the oxygen mask over Johnny's mouth and nose. None of the information they exchanged was good. As Roy held his daughter he wondered if Johnny would still be alive when the helicopter arrived.

        When the paramedics began to carefully remove the dressings the children had put on Roy spoke quietly into Jennifer's ear.

        "Honey, can Daddy put you down so he can help Uncle Johnny?"

        As much as Jennifer wanted to stay within the safety of her father's arms, she knew Uncle Johnny needed him more right now than she did. Jennifer squeezed Roy's neck one last time, then replied, "Help the paramedics make Uncle Johnny better. He was so brave, Daddy. He saved my life twice. He got hurt when he kept that man from taking me last night, and again just now."

        Roy's eyes misted over as he caught sight of the paper-white face of his best friend. The only color Johnny possessed was from the paint Jennifer had smeared across his cheekbones the day before, the bright green, purple and orange an absurd contrast to John's death-like pallor.

        "I know, Jenny. I know."

        Roy placed Jennifer on her feet. The girl followed her father to Johnny's side, but stayed out of the way of the three men who worked to keep the dark headed paramedic alive.

        Johnny was semi-conscious. His eyes roamed in lazy fashion to each of the faces above him, not seeming to recognize any of them. He responded to Archer's questions in a way that made Roy think of someone coming out of heavy anesthesia.

        "John, can you tell me where you hurt?" Archer asked as he and Tom replaced the towels on Johnny's arm and leg with pressure bandages.

        "Hu...hurt?"

        "Where do you hurt, John? Help me pinpoint your injuries."

        Roy knelt by Johnny's head, placing his hands on either side of his partner's face. Tom had put a C-collar around Johnny's neck meaning Roy couldn't force his partner to look up at him. Because of that Roy crouched lower to the ground so he and Johnny were eye level with one another.

        "Johnny? Johnny, it's Roy. Come on, Junior, help us out now. Tom Ketchum and Archer Doyle from 17 are here with me. We're going to load you on Flight For Life in a few minutes, but we need to know a few things before we do that."

        Johnny took in Roy's face, but didn't seem to understand that his partner was there with him.

        "Jennifer? Jenny!" John's voice was weak, but even through the oxygen mask his panic was plain to hear. "Jenny! Jen, where are you?"

        "Jennifer's right here, Johnny. She's safe. She's right here beside me. You don't need to worry about her anymore."

        "Jen! Jenny!"

        Roy swiveled, motioning for his daughter to come closer. "Talk to Uncle Johnny. Let him know you're okay."

        Jennifer nodded. Like the pro she'd become ever since she and Chris first offered aid to Johnny, she knelt by his chest and took his right hand in hers.

        "I'm here, Uncle Johnny. I'm okay. Daddy's here, too. Please just do what Daddy says so you'll get better."

        John was having a difficult time focusing. Jennifer's face swam in front of him. He lifted his eyes until he came to blurry features he thought he recognized as being those of his best friend. Jennifer's voice seemed to come from far away when she said again, "I'm okay, Uncle Johnny. My daddy's here now, too."

        "Ro...Roy?"

        "Yeah, partner, it's Roy. I'm right here. Jennifer's fine."

        "Chris?"

        "Chris is okay, too. He made it back to your place safe and sound. Both the kids are fine. They're just fine."

        Without breaking the steady stride or quiet reassuring tone of his conversation, Roy watched Archer and Tom work. The black paramedic carefully cut Johnny's T-shirt away. Roy swallowed a gasp when the bare skin of John's back was revealed. The white towels the children had tied in place were soaked with blood. The skin surrounding them was raised with angry, red welts from the beating John had just endured. When the towels were removed two gaping, jagged knife wounds appeared. Once again pressure bandages were quickly applied.

        Tom poised his pen over a spiral pocket notebook he'd been using to record Johnny's vital signs. "Okay, what have we got?" The blond man asked his partner.

        "In addition to the stab wounds to the right biceps and right calf, he's been stabbed on the upper right portion of his back approximately an inch below the scapula. Based on his respirations and the blood around his mouth I suspect a lung has been hit. There's also a stab wound to the right CVA. His right shoulder has been dislocated as well."

        Tom recorded the information that would be relayed to Rampart as soon as they got Johnny on the chopper. Archer stood and straddled John's body. He cut the front of the T-shirt away from Johnny's chest and continued his exam.

        "He's been stabbed just above his right clavicle. This wound isn't very deep and it's quit bleeding."

        Roy kept one hand on the side of Johnny's face while resting the other in his tangled hair. John moaned when Archer touched his left wrist. The black man looked at his partner and nodded.

        "Broken. Let's splint it as well as immobilize that shoulder."

        One of the cops returned as the paramedics worked. Roy looked up.

        "Did you find him?"

        "No. But Garrett and Conley are still looking. Doug called for blockades of all area roads and a police chopper to search from the air. Every available deputy will be combing this mountain within the next twenty minutes." The young man looked down at Johnny. "How is he?"

        Before Roy could answer Archer simply shook his head. Roy had been a paramedic long enough to know Archer was telling the deputy Johnny wasn't good, but at the same time the black man didn't want his words to be absorbed by the semi-conscious patient.

        "He'll be fine," Roy said for the benefit of Johnny, Jennifer, and himself. "The doctors at Rampart will have him on his feet in no time."

        Roy chose to ignore the skeptical looks that Archer and Tom exchanged at his words. He was well aware of Johnny's condition, but he was far from ready to acknowledge the seriousness of it out loud.

        Roy turned to his daughter as the paramedics and deputy got ready to roll
Johnny onto the backboard.

        "Let go of his hand, Jen, and stand out of the way."

        The little girl gave Johnny's hand a final squeeze then did as her father requested. She turned away and started crying when Johnny wasn't able to contain a strangled scream. The men stopped the movement.

        "No, no," Johnny moaned. "Please."

        Roy knelt by his partner's head. "What, Johnny? Tell me."

        John's eyes were squeezed shut against the pain. "Not,....not on,.....my back. Please."

        Though paramedic training taught the men to transport a patient on their back as often as possible because of the easy monitoring of vital signs it allowed for, they did make exceptions when the situation warranted. Although Johnny was technically Archer and Tom's patient, they looked to Roy, as the senior paramedic amongst them, to make the call.

        "You didn't find evidence of any injuries to his spine or vertebrae when you examined him?" Roy asked.

        "No," Archer responded. "None. I checked twice. And he was able to move all his extremities on command."

        "In that case if he's more comfortable on his left side then let's transport him in that position. If he loses consciousness, or his airway is being compromised, we can put him on his back at that time if we need to." Roy pointed to the now discarded blankets the kids had used to cover Johnny. "Roll those up and line one side of the Stokes with them. We'll rest Johnny against them so he stays off his back."

        Archer, Tom, and the deputy, Don Ferguson, did as Roy instructed. When they were ready to place John in the Stokes Roy spoke to his partner.

        "Johnny, we're going to move you. We'll be as careful and quick as we can. You let us do all the work, okay?"

        John gave a weak nod. He dreaded what was to come, but his only response was a hoarse, "Kay."

        As hard as he tried not to, John cried out again when he was lifted from the ground and placed in the Stokes. He was barely cognizant of the blankets the paramedics had brought along being placed over him, or the oxygen tank that was gently rested against his left thigh. Every nerve ending in his body seemed to be on fire, and his thirst was beginning to drive him to distraction.

        "Water?"

        Roy hated denying his friend of the only thing Johnny had asked for so far, but he had no choice.

        "I'm sorry, Johnny, but no. Not right now. As soon as we get you on the chopper we'll see what Rampart authorizes."

        Roy knew John was beyond processing what he was saying because he kept mumbling, "Water, water," in a raspy voice.

        They heard the chopper overhead. Archer got on his Handie Talkie and spoke with the pilot. When he broke off communication he hung the Handie Talkie from his utility belt and spoke to the men.

        "He'll be waiting when we get there. Let's go."

        Don Ferguson took one end of the Stokes while Archer took the other. Tom picked up the remaining equipment while Roy swung Jennifer to his hip. As they headed for the stream Jennifer pointed at the dog that still sat whimpering by the tree.

        "Joe, Daddy. What about Joe? He's hurt, too."

        Before Roy could answer Deputy Ferguson spoke from his place at the foot of John's Stokes. "My wife works for a vet. I'll take the dog there."

        "Thanks," Roy said. "I'll pay for whatever he needs. Just see that he gets the best care available."

        "I will."

        "You can reach me at Station 51 when he's ready to come home."

        "Can Joe stay at our house when he gets out of the hospital?" Jennifer asked her father as they made their way toward the helicopter. "I mean until Uncle Johnny is back at his ranch."

        "Sure, honey. Joe can stay with us as long as necessary."

        Jennifer gave her father's neck a firm squeeze. She knew he didn't like animals in the house. "That will make Uncle Johnny happy. He'll feel better just knowing someone who loves Joe is taking care of him."

        "You're right, Princess. That will make Uncle Johnny feel better."

        "Make sure you tell him, Daddy."

        "I will," Roy promised as they came to a halt twenty feet from the hovering chopper.

        They waited while the pilot brought the chopper down until it almost touched the water. Roy turned and bent his body in order to protect Jennifer from the mist being sprayed on them. At the same time Archer reached down and brought the blankets over Johnny's face.

        It took less than thirty seconds to get John and the equipment loaded on the medical helicopter. Archer climbed in, then took the notebook Tom handed him and slipped it inside his shirt pocket. The black man reached out for Jennifer. She went willingly from her father's arms to Archer's. He pointed to a plastic bench seat at the rear of the chopper. "Put the belt on!" he shouted in her ear so he could be heard over the noise of the rotating blades. Jennifer did as the man instructed, sitting on the bench and latching the seat belt around her thin waist.

        Roy was the last passenger in. There wasn't enough room for anyone else. Don Ferguson would report back to Sergeant Garrett and take charge of getting Joe to the vet's office. Tom Ketchum would drive Squad 17 to Rampart in order to pick up his partner.
        
        Roy glanced to the rear of the chopper to make certain his daughter was seated and strapped in tight. When he saw this was the case he gave her a smile and thumbs up. She returned the gesture, understanding that his attention would now be focused on Uncle Johnny until the doctors took over his care at Rampart Hospital.

        Jen gripped the edge of her seat so hard her knuckles turned white as the chopper's nose dipped forward and it rose into the air. The girl had never even been on an airplane. She wasn't too certain she liked this means of transportation as they flew high above the tree tops, especially sitting all by herself ten feet from her father. But like Katori, Jennifer knew she had to be brave. Her dad didn't have time to worry about her right now. Uncle Johnny needed him.

        Roy and Archer worked like a well-rehearsed team. Archer didn't bother with the bio-phone. He contacted Rampart using the chopper's direct line to the hospital.

        Joanne had reached Dixie McCall like Roy requested. Dixie and Kelly Brackett were waiting when Archer's call came in. Roy gave the black man updated vital signs. Archer relayed them to Doctor Brackett along with the array of injuries Johnny had suffered.

        Brackett spoke into the microphone. "Does the patient have any signs of head trauma, 17?"

        "That's negative, Rampart. We haven't found any evidence that such trauma occurred. The patient has been semi-conscious since our arrival on the scene and relatively cognizant of his surroundings. He is severely dehydrated. As well, Rampart, the patient is in pain and most certainly has been for quite a length of time. Request 2 milligrams MS to start."

        "Go ahead with the MS, 17, as well as two IV's Lactated Ringers wide open. I also want updated vitals at three minute intervals."

        "10-4, Rampart. That's 2 milligrams MS, two Ringers wide, and updated vitals at three minute intervals."

        "Affirmative, 17."

        Roy swabbed John's right arm with an alcohol wipe then started the IVs while Archer administered the morphine. They continued to monitor Johnny's vital signs and relay them to Rampart. The noise of the chopper made it difficult to be heard without shouting. In light of this Roy didn't try to talk to his friend, but every chance he got he rested a hand on John's right forearm. If nothing else Johnny would know he was still there with him.

        Even with the morphine, John refused to allow his eyes to completely close. His vision was limited by the fact he was resting on his left side, but every so often he'd catch a glimpse of Roy. He tried to find Jennifer, but each time he struggled to move his head within the confines of the C-collar Roy would discourage him by firmly grasping each side of his face. Finally Roy must have realized what was agitating him because the man crouched close to Johnny's ear and said over the sound of the chopper blades, "Jen's fine, Johnny. She's here. She's sitting on the bench behind us. Thanks to you, Junior, she's just fine."

        Upon hearing his partner's words Johnny calmed down, relieved to know Jennifer was safe. He finally gave in to the morphine's beckoning. As his eyes closed Johnny blocked out everything around him until even the thump, thump, thump of the chopper blades was so distant the noise could have been coming from miles away.

        The kids are safe. That's all that matters. Roy's kids are safe. I don't care about myself, just the kids. I'm just so glad the kids are okay. I don't have to fight any more. I don't have to hang on.

        Roy was bent over Johnny with his ear right next to his partner's mouth as he laid a light hand on Johnny's chest and counted respirations. The blond man paled when the mumbled words drifted to him through the oxygen mask.

        "The kids...okay. Roy says...kids fine. Don't have to fight...anymore. Don't have to...hang on."

        "Johnny!" Roy shouted into his partner's ear. "Johnny, yes you do have to hang on! Dammit, John Gage, you'd better hang on, do you hear me? Don't you dare give up on me, Junior! John, don't you dare give up!"

        Archer's eyes caught Roy's as he finished taking Johnny's blood pressure. The black man gave a slight shake of his head, then leaned forward to speak to the pilot.

        "If this thing can fly any faster now's the time to crank her up!" Archer saw the pilot's nod and thought he detected a slight increase in speed as he picked up the mike that would connect him to Kelly Brackett.
        

        _________________________

        
        The latest set of vitals that came to Rampart caused Doctor Brackett's brows to furrow. He turned to Dixie.

        "He's losing ground fast. We're not going to waste time bringing him down here. As soon as we get him off the chopper we'll go right to OR. Have someone make certain the stand-by room next to OR 2 is prepared for complete trauma care and get a portable X-ray unit up there. The less we have to move Johnny the better."

        Dixie nodded her head. OR 2 was already reserved for John Gage with six units of his blood type waiting. A medical team was also on standby, waiting for the chopper to land. The nurse got on the phone and relayed Brackett's newest set of instructions. As soon as Archer indicated the chopper was within two minutes of landing Kelly and Dixie ran for the elevator. A nurse slipped behind the counter, taking Dixie's place for as long as necessary.

Chapter 20

        
        Evan's natural instincts made up for his lack of speed. Long ago he'd discovered he had a knack for knowing exactly what the police would be doing in an effort to locate him. Road blocks were the first thing they'd order, followed by a helicopter. Evan knew it would only be a matter of time before the mountain was crawling with cops, which was why he kept running.

        The man had no idea what highway he'd come to when he emerged from the woods. By looking at the sun he knew he was west of where he'd started from. He took a few deep breaths, rolled his shirtsleeves down and buttoned them so the wounds on his arms weren't apparent, and swiped his bangs back into place. When he heard the eighteen-wheeler rounding the bend he stepped onto the shoulder and stuck out his thumb.

        The trucker slowed his rig. Evan opened the passenger side door and swung himself into the cab.

        "Where you headed?" The trucker asked.

        "Wherever you're going is fine with me."

        "Got several stops to make all the way up to Eureka."

        "Great."

        The trucker eyed his passenger. He briefly wondered why the man wasn't carrying at least a duffel bag of clothing, but he didn't question this oddity either. He enjoyed the company of hitchhikers. Each one of them had a different story to tell. He'd learned long ago not to ask questions that were none of his business. All he was really looking for anyway was a little company to break up the monotony of a long run.

        "My name's Keith," the trucker introduced as he pulled the rig back onto the highway.

        "Tim," the passenger replied. Though he'd never had reason to use a false name in the past, after the kind of day he'd just had he thought a pseudonym was a wise move.

        "Nice to meet you, Tim. So, you a native Californian?"

        "Nope. I was born and raised in Illinois."

        "Really? So what brings you all the way out here?"

        Evan watched as two squad cars passed them going in the opposite direction. "My job," Evan replied with a tiny smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "It's my job that brings me all the way out here."

        "I see. Gonna be in the Sunshine state for a while then, huh?"

        "Yep. I've got some work left to do before I move on." Evan thought about the map folded up in the back pocket of his blue jeans, and the gold star he still wanted to place somewhere in the state of California. "I've still got some work left to do."

Chapter 21

        Within seconds of the chopper landing on the roof extension outside the eighth floor operating rooms the Stokes was placed on a gurney. Roy took in the jumble of concerned faces surrounding Johnny. He recognized some while others he didn't know at all. He allowed Archer to relay the latest set of vitals to Doctor Brackett, and to run along side the gurney with the medical team as they entered the building. Had Jennifer not been in the chopper Roy would have been running with one hand clinging to the Stokes, too. But now that they were at the hospital and Johnny was in the best hands available, Roy's obligation was to his young daughter who had gone through so much in the past fourteen hours.

        Roy climbed back in the chopper just as Jennifer was standing. He took her hand and helped her out onto solid ground. He lifted her to his hip once again, moved away from the helicopter, and gave the pilot a wave to let the man know the area was clear. He crouched low and ran with his daughter to the automatic double doors as the blades began to pick up speed.

        Jennifer spotted her mother first.

        "Mom!"

        Joanne took the girl from Roy's arms and hugged her as tight as she dared. Mother and daughter clung to one another a long minute, both of them crying.
Joanne finally allowed Jennifer to slide to her feet. She continued to hold her daughter's hand as she hugged Roy's neck with one arm. Through her tears she whispered, "Chris and I just saw them wheel Johnny through. Oh, Roy, he looks so bad. He's not good, is he?"

        It took Roy a moment to find his voice. Like Joanne, he kept his tone pitched low so Jennifer wouldn't overhear his words.

        "No, he's not. He...he's critical. Be prepared..." Roy had to swallow the lump in his throat, "be prepared for the worst. I just don't...I just don't know if he'll survive surgery."

        Joanne took the news as stoically as possible for the sake of her children. Chris was seated a few feet away in an alcove that consisted of a long couch, two chairs, a coffee table filled with magazines, a soda machine, a snack machine, and a pay phone. The boy jumped up as his father approached.

        "Dad! How's Uncle Johnny? Mom and I saw him for just a second and he looked real sick."

        "I know, son."

        Roy put a hand on Chris's back and encouraged him to sit back down on the couch. Roy sat next to the eleven year old, then pulled Jennifer into his lap. He didn't want to dash his children's hopes, but neither did he want to lie to them and leave them unprepared for what might come. Joanne sat down on the other side of Chris and took his hand. Fourteen years of marriage to Roy left her no doubts as to what he was going to say to the kids.

        Roy's eyes took in both his offspring. "Chris, Jen,.....Uncle Johnny's in critical condition."

        "What's that mean?" Jennifer asked, though deep inside she suspected she knew.

        "It means that because of his injuries his body is having to fight very hard to keep him alive. Sometimes, when a person is hurt as bad as Uncle Johnny is, the body just...gives out. It can't fight any longer. The injuries are too serious for the body to be able to heal itself."

        "But won't the doctors and nurses help Uncle Johnny's body fight now that we got him here?"

        Roy gave his daughter a soft smile. "Yes, Princess, they will. They'll help Uncle Johnny in every way they can. But sometimes...well sometimes even the doctors and nurses can't make a person better no matter how hard they try. You understand that, don't you?"

        Jennifer laid her head against Roy's chest and started to cry. "But I don't want Uncle Johnny to die. I want the doctors and nurses to make him all better."

        Roy ran a hand over his daughter's head. "So do the rest of us, Jenny," he whispered while kissing Jennifer's temple. "Believe me, so do the rest of us."

        Joanne extended her free hand and grasped Jennifer's. Now that she was physically connected to both her children she said, "Let's bow our heads and say a prayer for Uncle Johnny."

        The kids did as their mother suggested. Even Roy found himself following suit. Because of his work schedule he didn't often attend the Congregational Church Joanne took the kids to on Sunday mornings. And he had to admit that even when he was off on a Sunday he usually bypassed Sunday School and then the church service in favor of enjoying a few hours of a quiet house after Joanne and the kids left.

        Joanne led the prayer as the kids squeezed their eyes shut. Both Chris and Jennifer were sure if they concentrated enough on their mother's words, if they showed enough respect to her prayer, that there was no way God would take Uncle Johnny from them.

        "Dear Lord," Joanne prayed in a soft voice, "please watch over Johnny and extend Your mercy to him. We don't understand why someone was allowed to hurt such a good man, but we trust this matter is in Your hands. Please protect John in the same way he protected my daughter. We ask that You give the doctors wisdom as they work now to heal Johnny's body. Please let Johnny feel the love that surrounds him. Please give him the strength he'll need to get better. Lay Your healing hand upon him, Lord. In this we pray, Amen."

        Roy looked up when he heard a soft "Amen," echo Joanne's. He saw Marco standing there with his head bowed. The Hispanic man made the sign of the cross, then moved to sit in the chair next to Roy.

        "Marco?" Joanne questioned. "When did you get here?"

        "Just now. Cap called Mike with the news and asked him to contact me and Chet."

        Before Joanne or Roy could say anything further they saw Hank Stanley striding down the corridor. He joined the group, sitting on the couch next to Joanne.

        "How's John?"

        Roy was about to relay what he knew when Archer Doyle rounded the
corner. He'd heard Captain Stanley's question and answered for Roy.

        "They're taking him into surgery now. The knife hit his right lung and right kidney."

        "Can they repair the damage?" Hank asked.

        "Brackett thinks so. The problem is..." Archer stopped there, mindful of Roy's children.

        Roy nodded his head, indicating for the man to proceed.

        "The problem is he's very weak as be would expected considering it's now been almost fifteen hours since the injuries occurred. Brackett's concerned that the surgery will be too much for him."

        Roy was concerned about that as well, but he made no comment. Still holding onto his daughter Roy stood. He extended a hand to the black man.

        "Archer, thanks. And tell Tom I said thank you as well. The two of you make a great team."

        "Well, you know how it is when you just 'click' with the right partner. There's really no way to explain the chemistry to someone else. It just exists without you ever really giving it conscious thought."

        Roy nodded. "Yeah," he said softly, "I know how it is."

        "I know you do, Roy." Archer squeezed Roy's hand, feeling a little guilty to find himself glad he wasn't in DeSoto's position. "I know you do."

        The black man promised he'd call later to get an update on Johnny's condition, then headed down the corridor toward the elevator.

        Over the course of the next thirty minutes three more people drifted into the waiting area. Mike Stoker arrived followed closely by Chet Kelly, who was still dressed in the ragged cut off shorts and wet sneakers he'd been wearing when he got the call about Johnny while in the midst of washing his car. Dixie McCall stopped by, but didn't have much more information to share other than what Archer had already told Roy. She went down to the ER to finish out what little time was left of her shift, then returned an hour later with a man in tow.

        "Roy, Joanne, this is Detective Mark Bellmen. He stopped in the ER asking for directions on how to find you just as I was going off duty."

        Dixie stepped aside as Roy stood. Jennifer was now seated next to her brother. During the course of their wait she'd been taken to the bathroom by her mother and cleaned up. Though she was still wearing her dirty clothes, her face and hands had been washed and her hair brushed out so it hung long and straight against her back.

        Roy guessed the stocky detective to be in his late forties. His dark hair was trimmed short around his head, and just beginning to gray at the temples. Jennifer stared at him, fascinated by the handlebar mustache that was curled up on the ends with the aid of gel. She thought he looked like a big, friendly barber who had stepped right out of the pages of another century. Like the picture she'd once seen of her maternal great great grandfather who had owned a barber shop in Ohio.

        Roy and the detective shook hands. Roy turned, introducing the man to his wife and co-workers.

        When the introductions came to an end the detective said, "Mr. DeSoto, I hear your children have quite an adventure to tell me."

        "Yes. I would say they do."

        The man looked at Dixie. "Is there a room I can use in order to speak to the children privately?"

        "I'm sure I can find you an empty office."

        Despite the detective's friendly appearance Jennifer had no desire to go anywhere with a strange man considering her recent experiences. She grabbed for her father's hand.

        "No, Daddy. Please. I don't wanna go anywhere."

        No one else was in the waiting area but Roy and his co-workers prompting the paramedic to say, "Why can't your questions be asked right here?"

        "Well..." the men looked at the faces of those surrounding him. Based on Roy's introductions he knew everyone present save for Dixie and Joanne was a city firefighter.

        "I promise you that anything my kids tell you won't leave this group. Besides, I think they'd be more comfortable and willing to talk if they can stay here amongst the people they know."

        The detective thought a moment, then gave a reluctant nod of his head. "I'm trusting your judgment on this, Mr. DeSoto. The last thing we want is any one of you talking to the press about the details of the investigation."

        Hank Stanley spoke up. "I can assure you, Detective, that my men are extremely loyal to one another and understand the delicate nature of this situation. No one here will repeat a word of what they hear to anyone."

        Mike, Chet and Marco nodded their heads in confirmation of their Captain's promise.

        Dixie didn't feel Hank Stanley's words included her so she started to leave, only to be stopped by Roy.

        "Wait, Dix, I'd like you to stay, too."

        Dixie looked at Roy. She knew him well enough to pick up on his unspoken thoughts. If either Chris or Jennifer got too upset by the detective's line of questioning Roy was counting on her to intervene with a medical opinion regarding the emotional harm the children might be incurring. Though Dixie felt she was a bit out of her league and would have preferred a pediatric psychologist be present, she knew on a Sunday afternoon she was about the only off duty medical person Roy was going to find to sit in on this session. She nodded her head, honored that he thought so much of her.

        Chet vacated the chair he was seated in so Detective Bellmen could sit down. Marco did the same, offering his seat to Dixie. The two firemen stood together, leaning on either side of the soda machine.

        Jennifer climbed in her father's lap while Chris remained seated between his parents. The detective smiled at the children, acknowledging each of them by name.

        "Hi, Chris. Hi, Jennifer."

        "Hi," Chris replied without hesitation.

        Jennifer's "Hi," was quiet and with an uncharacteristic shyness to it.

        "There's nothing difficult about what I'm going to ask both of you to do for me. I simply want you to tell me all about your camping trip, from the moment you left Mr. Gage's ranch until..."

        "You mean left Uncle Johnny's?" Jennifer clarified.

        "Yes," Mark smiled. "From the moment you left your Uncle Johnny's ranch until your father found you in the woods."

        When the children didn't immediately begin, Joanne helped them.

        "Kids, you need to tell Detective Bellmen about your camping trip exactly like you would have told Daddy and me about it this evening when Uncle Johnny brought you home. Don't leave out any details."

        "That's right," Detective Bellmen said. "Even the smallest thing that seems insignificant might prove to be important." The man reached into the pocket of his brown suit coat and pulled out a small spiral notebook and a pen. "I'm going to write down much of what you say. You just ignore what I'm doing and keep talking. And every so often I might interrupt one of you to ask a question. Okay?"

        "Okay," Chris agreed while Jennifer nodded her head.

        "All right. Let's begin. Start with yesterday morning when you left your uncle's ranch."

        Chris looked to Roy for guidance.

        "Go ahead, son," Roy nodded. "It's all right."

        With that final bit of encouragement from his father Chris turned his attention to the detective. He told of the trip up the mountain on the horses. Chris saw a slight smile dance on Chet's lips when he mentioned them stopping to rest the horses and how Uncle Johnny looked around for snakes before they sat down.

        "Chris," Jennifer scolded. "Uncle Johnny said we weren't supposed to tell anyone that. Especially not Chet."

        Roy shushed his daughter. "It's okay, Jen. This is the kind of special circumstance where sometimes we're forced to break a promise to a friend." Roy gave Chet a pointed look. "I'm sure Chet will work hard at resisting the urge to tease Uncle Johnny about any of this situation."

        Captain Stanley added his own confirmation to that. "Yes, I'm sure he will."

        The detective got the children back on track with their story.

        "Chris, Jennifer, did either of you see or hear anything unusual when you stopped to rest the horses?"

        "What do you mean?" Chris asked.

        "Oh, a noise that would indicate there was a person nearby. Or perhaps you saw another person walking the trail or on horseback."

        "No," Chris shook his head. "We didn't see anyone."

        "Or hear anything either," Jennifer said, "other than birds and squirrels, and the kinda stuff we see every time we go camping with Uncle Johnny."

        Chris took over the tale again at this point. He told of how they'd collected leaves and rocks for Jennifer's science project before mounting their horses again. He told of the uneventful trip up the mountain, then how they'd worked together to make camp.

        "After we ate lunch Uncle Johnny and I fished while Jen and Joe played by us in the stream."

        "Joe?" Detective Bellmen asked.

        "Uncle Johnny's dog," Jennifer explained. "We gave him to Uncle Johnny for his birthday a couple years ago."

        "Nice gift," Mark responded before questioning Chris again.

        "Chris, did anything unusual happen while you were fishing? Did anyone come into your campsite?"

        "No. No one. We didn't see anyone. When we'd caught twelve fish we stopped. Uncle Johnny taught us that you never take more from nature than you're going to use. So since he figured we'd caught enough for supper and breakfast we put 'em in a bucket of cold water and then took a hike to the Pow Wow Cave."

        "The Pow Wow Cave?"

        Chris explained about the hidden cave they'd found the previous year. Together he and Jennifer told of their afternoon spent there with Johnny. Now Dixie understood why John had arrived with streaks of what looked like paint on his face. She hadn't been sure if this was some bizarre thing his attacker had done to him, or if it was some bizarre thing he'd done to himself for reasons only known to Johnny Gage.

        After Chris told of their hike back to the campsite and the supper they'd eaten the detective asked again, "And you didn't see or hear anything suspicious?"

        Before the boy or his sister could answer Roy intervened.

        "Detective, I can assure you that if John Gage had seen or heard anything that would have caused him to fear for my children's safety he would have broken camp, loaded everyone on their horses, and headed back for his ranch. If need be he would have scooped my kids up, left everything behind, and ran down that mountain while carrying both of them in his arms."

        "I realize that, Mr. DeSoto. Please believe me when I say I'm not trying to insinuate that Mr. Gage ignored warning signs of impending trouble. Quite the contrary. But it's possible that he or the children saw or heard something that at the time they didn't associate with danger. I hope you understand that if we're going to catch this guy I have to be thorough."

        There was a moment of silence before Roy heaved a weary sigh.

        I do understand that. I'm sorry if my comments were out of line. It's just been a...a very long afternoon."

        "I'm sure it has been. And I know you're worried about your partner. When I was a patrol officer I spent eight years sharing my squad car with a man I grew to be closer to than I am to my own brother. Had anyone made even the slightest unsavory remark about him I would have been the first person to come to his defense."

        Roy nodded his thanks at Bellmen's understanding of his bond with Johnny.

        Knowing that he now had Roy back on his side, Bellmen returned his attention to the children.

        "All right, Chris, you said you had supper after your hike. Then what did you do?"

        "After we cleaned up our camp,...you know, threw our paper plates and stuff into a garbage bag Uncle Johnny brought along, we sat around the fire until the sun set."

        "Uncle Johnny braided my hair for me," Jennifer interjected.

        Detective Bellmen didn't react to this information one way or another, but for some reason it brought a lump to Dixie McCall's throat. She thought of the injuries she had seen on John Gage's body an hour earlier, and the grave condition he was in that meant his chances of making it through surgery were no better than fifty/fifty.

        How can anyone hurt a person with as gentle of a soul as Johnny Gage possesses? What goes wrong inside someone that causes them to do such violence?

        Dixie had been an ER nurse for twenty years. She'd seen the physical effects of random acts of violence on innocent victims before. She'd always thought that eventually she'd become immune to it. That eventually she could look at woman who'd been beaten by her husband, or a man who'd been stabbed by a stranger, and not feel anything but detached professionalism. Some years ago Dixie had finally learned that would never happen. At least not where she was concerned. Kelly Brackett had once told her that's what made her such a good nurse. That might be so, but when the victim was a friend, and she was surrounded by the people who loved him and thought of him as family, she felt that both her compassion and her medical knowledge was a curse.

        Dixie tuned back into the conversation when she heard Chris say, "We told ghost stories after that. After Uncle Johnny had braided Jen's hair and the sun went down. I told my story first. Then Jen told hers. Uncle Johnny went last, only his wasn't a ghost story 'cause he's not too good at those."

        "He's not?" Detective Bellmen asked in an effort to get a better feel for John Gage's personality than he already had.

        "No," Chris shook his head. "He couldn't scare a two year old if he tried. But his legends...those are the best. So he told us a legend."

        "Legend?

        "Yeah. An Indian legend. Uncle Johnny's half Waupun Indian, you know."

        "No, I didn't know that."

        "Well, he is. And he knows lots of cool stories that his grandfather, Gray Wolf, told Uncle Johnny when he was a kid."

        "I see. That does sound interesting."

        "Yep," Chris agreed while Jennifer nodded her head.

        "When the stories were over what did you do?"

        "We went to bed," Chris responded.

        "Do you know approximately what time that was?"

        "Ten o'clock."

        "You're certain?" The detective questioned as he recorded the time on his note pad.

        "Yeah. We always go to bed at ten o'clock when we go camping with Uncle Johnny. When my dad's along sometimes him and Uncle Johnny stay up later, talking around the campfire, but me and Jen always go to bed at ten."

        "And Mr. Gage...your Uncle Johnny, went to bed when you kids did?"

        "Yeah."

        "How soon after going to bed would you say you fell asleep, Chris?"

        "Not very long 'cause I was tired. Maybe five minutes."

        "And you, Jennifer? Did you fall asleep right away?"

        "Yes."

        "And neither of you woke up between then and when the man came to your camp site?"

        "I didn't," Chris said.

        "I did," Jennifer responded.

        "Do you know what woke you, Jennifer?"

        "One of the horses. I think it was Cody. I heard him whinny."

        "Did you go back to sleep?"

        "Not really. I turned on my side to face Uncle Johnny."

        "Was he sleeping?"

        "Yeah. Or at least I'm pretty sure he was. He had his arm over his eyes." Jennifer leaned back against Roy's chest so she was half reclining. She put her left arm over her eyes. "Like this. This is how Uncle Johnny always sleeps."

        "So you didn't say anything to him? You didn't let him know you were awake?"

        "No." The girl returned to an upright position in her father's lap. " I just rolled over, saw him sleeping, and closed my eyes."

        "Did you fall back to sleep?"

        "I was almost asleep again when I...when I..."

        Jennifer's eyes welled up with tears. Roy wrapped his arms around and whispered into her ear.

        "It's okay, sweetheart, I'm right here. No one can hurt you."

        Jennifer nodded at the words of encouragement her father offered her. She swallowed hard in an effort to keep her tears from falling.

        "I was almost asleep when I felt someone lift me out of my bedroll and start to run with me."

        The detective kept his voice quiet and calm. "What did you do then?"

        "I yelled, 'Uncle Johnny! Uncle Johnny! It's the Stone Ridge Killer! Help me! Help me!' "

        All the adults exchanged glances at Jennifer's words.

        "The Stone Ridge Killer?" Mark asked, wondering if Jennifer had just given him a lead to her assailant's identity. His hopes were quickly dashed, however, as the little girl explained further.

        "The Stone Ridge Killer from Chris's ghost story before we went to bed. He snatches girls right out of their beds in the middle of the night."

        "I see," Detective Bellmen nodded his understanding. He had three younger sisters himself. He well remembered the enjoyment he got out of scaring them when he was Chris DeSoto's age. "So the Stone Ridge Killer was just a made up person from Chris's ghost story?"

        "Yeah. But that's all I could think of when I felt the man lift me up."

        "That's understandable," Mark said while Joanne made a silent vow to have a talk with her son at a future date about the subject matter of his ghost stories.

        "What happened after you called for your uncle to help you?"

        "Uncle Johnny jumped up from his bed. The man turned and started to run away with me towards the woods. Uncle Johnny was running after us yelling at the man to put me down. After that I'm not sure what happened. I think Uncle Johnny must have tackled him 'cause the next thing I knew we were on the ground."

        "On the ground? Did you come out of the man's arms when he fell?"

        "No. He was still holding onto me."

        "Like this," Chris said as he leaned over and wrapped an arm around Jennifer's chest. "The man was laying on the ground on his back, but he had Jennifer held against him real tight."

        "At what point in all this did you wake up, Chris?"

        "I heard Uncle Johnny yell, 'Put her down!' That's what woke me up. I saw the man running away with Jennifer, and then saw Uncle Johnny fly through the air and tackle him around his knees."

        "So that's when the man fell?"

        "Yeah."

        Mark stood. "Mr. DeSoto, can I get you to assist your children with a little demonstration here?"

        "Certainly."

        The detective looked at the group of firemen who had remained silent but attentive throughout the children's story. He motioned to Chet.

        "Sir, can I also have you assist us please?"

        "Sure," Chet agreed while pushing himself away from the soda machine.

        Mark Bellmen looked down the corridor, making certain they were still alone on this quiet Sunday afternoon at Rampart. Seeing no one, he moved away from the furniture and indicated for Roy and Chet to follow him. Roy stood and put Jennifer on her feet, then walked out beyond the coffee table.

        "Mr. DeSoto--"

        "You can call me Roy."

        "Thank you, Roy. Roy, would you please lay right here on your back?"

        Roy did as the detective requested. Mark looked to Jennifer.
        "Okay, Jennifer, can you lay down with your dad and have him hold you just like that man was holding you last night?"

        Jennifer nodded her head. Dixie kept a close eye on the girl, making certain that the act of reliving exactly what had happened didn't upset her. It didn't seem to bother Jennifer to lay on top of Roy's chest and allow him to put his right arm around her. The nurse knew this was a good sign. At least Jennifer wasn't associating her father with her assailant simply because Roy was holding her in the same position the kidnapper had.

        "Okay, Chris. I'm going to need you to tell me how the rest of this unfolded. Pretend that...." Mark looked at Chet. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I didn't get your name."

        "Chet. Chet Kelly."

        "Chris, pretend that Mr. Kelly is your Uncle Johnny. After John tackled the man, the man was laying on the ground with Jennifer just like your dad and Jennifer are laying now, am I correct?"

        "Yes, Sir."

        "And where was Johnny?"

        "He jumped to his feet and stood over the man."

        "Show Mr. Kelly what you mean."

        Chris demonstrated to Chet how Johnny had stood with his feet on either side of the man's waist. Chet took up that position.

        "All right. Then what happened?"

        "Uncle Johnny was tugging at Jennifer, trying to pull her free from the man's arm."

        "Mr. Kelly, can you do that for us please. You don't have to use any force, this is just so I can get a better picture of what occurred."

        "Okay." Chet did as Chris described.

        "What happened next, Chris?"

        "Uncle Johnny," the boy paused there and looked back at his mother. He didn't want to get Johnny in trouble.

        "What, Chris?" Mark asked.

        Joanne smiled at her son. She had no idea what he was concerned about revealing, but knew the look on his face well enough to conclude he was trying not to snitch on a friend for some wrong-doing.

        "Go ahead, Chris. Tell Detective Bellmen what happened. No one will get in trouble, I promise."

        Chris nodded. He turned back to the detective. "Uncle Johnny started swearing then. I've never heard him say that kinda stuff before. Not even little swear words. You know, like the ones that aren't as bad as some others."

        Mark's mustache twitched at the boy's choice of words, but he held his smile at bay. "You mean he was swearing at the man while trying to free your sister?"

        "Yeah. Except I don't think he started swearing until the man had stabbed
him for the first time."

        "Well now, I can understand how that could cause a man to let a few words fly he doesn't normally go around saying," Mark said. "Chris, using Chet and your dad, show me how the man stabbed Johnny."

        Chris bent over and brought his father's left hand up. "He had the knife in this hand. He stabbed it into Uncle Johnny's arm, right about here." Chris pointed to Chet's right biceps muscle.

        The detective looked over at Dixie. "Is this the approximate location of one of Mr. Gage's stab wounds?"

        "Yes, it is."

        Mark smiled at Chris. "Good job. Continue please."

        "It was when I saw the blood on Uncle Johnny's shirt that I ran over to help him. I started tugging on Jennifer with him. I'm pretty sure the man stabbed Uncle Johnny again 'cause I heard Uncle Johnny cry out like he was in pain, but I didn't see where the knife went in. Uncle Johnny really started to swear after that and kept yelling at the man to let Jen go. Then I saw the knife stab him here," the boy bent down and touched Chet just above his right calf muscle.

        Mark Bellmen looked back at Dixie who nodded her confirmation of a matching stab wound on John's body.

        "Uncle Johnny got even madder then. He grabbed the man by the hair with one hand and started pounding his head into the ground while trying to get Jennifer free with his other hand. I was still helping him. I'm not really sure how we did it, but we finally pulled her away from the man. Jen stumbled to her feet and I grabbed her hand. Uncle Johnny yelled at me to run for the Pow Wow. I knew he meant the cave so I held onto Jen and did what Uncle Johnny said."

        "The Pow Wow? You mean the cave you mentioned earlier?"

        "Yeah."

        Roy spoke from the floor. "It's secluded in an overgrown hillside. The entrance is covered with a thick layer of moss."

        "So you and Jennifer ran to the cave, Chris?"

        "Yeah. Uncle Johnny always told us that if we got lost, or if there was some kind of trouble, we should go to the cave and wait for him to come for us. So as soon as he told me to go to the Pow Wow I knew what he meant I was supposed to do."

        "You didn't see anything more of the fight that took place between the assailant and your Uncle Johnny then?"

        "No, Sir."

        At Chris's words Mark looked at Roy and Chet. "Okay, gentlemen, you can get up now. Thank you."

        Chet stepped over Roy and Jennifer, resuming his former position by the soda machine. Roy waited until Jennifer stood, then got on his own feet. He led his children back to the couch. They sat between him and Joanne while Detective Bellmen reclaimed his chair.

        "How about the dog, kids? Joe? Where was he?"

        Jennifer shrugged her shoulders while Chris replied, "I don't know. We didn't see him until we came back. He was sitting by Uncle Johnny then."

        "All right, we'll put that thought on hold for now. Chris, do you know what time this attack happened?"

        "Around midnight or a little after. I looked at my watch when me and Jen got to the cave and it was almost twelve-thirty."

        The man smiled as he recorded this information. "Chris, you've got a wonderful mind for details. You'll make a great police detective some day."

        "Naw," Chris shook his head. "I'm gonna be a paramedic like my dad and Uncle Johnny."

        Roy reached out a hand and ran it over his son's back. "When you hear what my children did next, you'll know why my son said that, Detective."

        "All right," Mark nodded. "Let's keep going then. What did you do next, Chris?"

        Chris told about staying in the cave for two hours with Jennifer sleeping against his chest. "That's when I knew something was wrong. Uncle Johnny would have come for us by then if he could have. That's when I knew he was hurt real bad."

        The boy went on to explain how he and his sister crept back to the camp site.

        "You didn't see the man at all during this time?"

        "No, Sir. If we had of, we would have ran back to the cave. But we didn't see him, and when we got to the woods just outside our campfire we saw Uncle Johnny laying on his side with Joe sitting next to him. There was blood everywhere. All over him and in a big puddle on the ground. That's when we ran over to him. It took us a minute to wake him up. He was unconscious. But once he was awake and knew we were okay he told me what we had to do in order to help him."

        Prompted by further questions the police detective asked, Chris relayed how the rest of the night passed.

        "I tried not to fall asleep. I knew I needed to stay awake in order to help Uncle Johnny, but I was so tired. Jen had fallen asleep about an hour earlier. Around three-thirty. Neither one of us woke up again until Uncle Johnny started screaming."

        "Had the man returned?"

        "No," Chris shook his head. "Uncle Johnny was having a nightmare I guess. He was yelling Jen's name and telling her to get away. I figured he meant that he wanted her to get away from the man. We tried to calm him down. He got real sick then. He threw up blood a couple of times. Not long after that he had two convulsions. That's when I knew I had to get help. I saddled Cody,..."

        "One of the horses?"

        "Yeah. Uncle Johnny's. He won't let me ride Cody 'cause he says I'm not strong enough to handle him. But I knew Cody was the fastest horse we had. Jen helped me saddle him. I didn't want to leave her and Uncle Johnny alone, but Uncle Johnny looked so bad,....he was so sick and in so much pain, that I knew he wouldn't live until my dad realized something was wrong."

        Mark looked at Roy. "What time were you expecting Mr. Gage and the children back?"

        "Six o'clock tonight."

        Mark gave a slight nod. "Sounds to me like you did the only thing you could, Chris."

        "That's what my dad said, too."

        "So you left Jennifer and your uncle at what time?"

        "Around nine. Maybe a few minutes after. Uncle Johnny woke up just as I was gonna climb on Cody. He called me over to him and asked me what I was doing. When I told him he tried to get me to stay. He said my dad would come for us and that he'd be okay until then. I knew he wouldn't be okay though, and I told him so, but he still said I had to stay. I told him I couldn't, that he needed help. When I left...when I left he was real mad at me. He told me he was gonna tan my hide for disobeying him when he got his hands on me. I felt bad for making him mad at me and all. Uncle Johnny never gets mad at me. But it was just something I had to do. I hope he understands that."

        Before any of the adults could assure the boy that Johnny wouldn't be angry with him for leaving the campsite, Jennifer said quietly, "Uncle Johnny understands, Chris. He cried after you left. He felt bad because he didn't know the man was hiding in the woods."

        "Did he tell you that?" Roy asked his daughter.

        "Yeah. He said he was sorry because our camping trip didn't go like he planned. When I told him it wasn't his fault, that he didn't know the man was there, he said he should have. He kept saying that, Daddy. How come?"

        "Because he felt responsible for you and Chris, sweetheart. And even though, as you say, nothing that happened was Uncle Johnny's fault, Johnny loves you and Chris as much as he would love children of his own. That means he hurts when the two of you hurt."

        "But Chris and I weren't hurt. It was Uncle Johnny who was hurt."

        Joanne placed a hand on top of Jennifer's head.

        "In this case, Jen, Daddy means that Uncle Johnny knew you and Chris were frightened and upset by what had taken place during the night. He didn't want to see either one of you burdened with further responsibilities. He felt it was his place to keep both of you safe. I imagine that when Chris rode away on Cody Uncle Johnny felt pretty helpless. He couldn't stop Chris from disobeying him, he couldn't make certain Chris got back to the ranch free from harm, and he was probably pretty scared at the thought of having to protect you. With as badly injured as he was I'm sure he was afraid if the man returned he wouldn't be able to fight him off."

        "But he did, Mom! The man came back and Uncle Johnny did fight him off! He's so brave. Just like Katori in the legend. Just like Uncle Johnny's Indian name means."

        Joanne looked at her daughter with total puzzlement. Roy hadn't had the opportunity to tell her what had happened after Chris left the mountain. This wasn't exactly how he wanted her to hear the news of the second attack by the kidnapper, but he couldn't do much more than nod his head at his wife before looking at the detective.

        "I think we'd better keep going. There's a...few things my wife isn't aware of yet."

        "It sounds like there's a few things none of us are aware of but you and Jennifer," Mark replied. He turned his attention back to Chris. "Chris, why don't you continue."

        Chris's portion of the story came to a fairly quick end. He told of his trip down the mountain and his surprise at discovering his parents at Johnny's ranch.

        Roy took over here and relayed what he had done upon Chris telling him what had occurred on the mountain.

        Bellmen looked at Jennifer. "All right, little lady, now it's your turn. I need you to tell me what happened after your brother left."

        "Mostly I just tried to help Uncle Johnny. I made sure he stayed covered and I wiped his face and mouth with a washcloth. He wanted me to stay by him. He made me promise I wouldn't leave. He pulled me close to his chest and held me there. After a while he fell asleep, and pretty soon I did, too. I didn't wake up until I heard Joe growling."

        "What was he growling at?"

        "I never saw, but I was afraid it was the man. I was afraid he'd come back. Joe was acting really funny. Scary like. His ears were laying back against his head, and he was showing his teeth while he crept toward the woods. He looked like a wolf."

        "What did you do?"

        "I started yelling for Uncle Johnny to let me go. I was so scared I started crying. Uncle Johnny was holding me real tight and I couldn't get away from him. He was kind of awake but kind of not. I couldn't get him to understand that we had to run and hide. Joe was barking and growling, and I was crying and telling Uncle Johnny I thought the man was back. Then all of a sudden Uncle Johnny jumped up and flipped me under him. He held me against his chest and tummy. Because of the way the blankets were hanging it was like I was in a tent. He put his hand over my mouth and whispered that no matter what happened, I couldn't make a sound. That I had to be quiet and not cry or say a word. Pretty soon I heard the man yelling, 'Where is she? Where's the girl?', but Uncle Johnny never answered him. He just kept holding onto me real tight, hiding me underneath his body and the blankets."

        Tears were running down Joanne's face by the time Jennifer's story came to an end. Dixie felt tears spring to her eyes, too. Johnny's co-workers exchanged looks that were mixtures of disbelief at all he and the children had endured, as well as admiration over what lengths he'd gone to in order to keep Jennifer safe.

        Roy cleared his throat and finished the story by telling what he witnessed upon his arrival.

        "Joe was huddled up by a tree whimpering in pain. The man was beating Johnny on the back with a billy club. Like Jennifer said, he was yelling, 'Where is she? Where's the girl?' At that point I could only guess it was Johnny the man was hitting. The way Johnny had his body positioned, combined with the blankets covering him, made it impossible for me to see his face. I had no idea where Jennifer was. The guy must have heard me running through the woods. He looked up, caught my eye for a brief second, then took off in the opposite direction. Johnny toppled to his side. It was then that his face was clearly revealed, and it was then that my daughter crawled out from under the blankets. The deputies that had come with us took off after the guy. I comforted Jennifer while Archer and Tom,...the paramedics from Station 17, began treating Johnny. Once I got Jennifer calmed down I assisted them."

        "Was John able to give you any further information about his assailant or what had happened?"

        "No. He was never more than semi-conscious from the time I first knelt by him in the woods until the medical team took over here. He got upset several times, looking for Jennifer and asking where she was. Whenever that happened I assured him she was fine. That seemed to be what he needed to hear because he'd always calm down. But overall he was in no condition to tell us what had happened, and in no condition to be questioned about what had happened."

        Mark looked at Dixie. "To the best of your knowledge, Nurse McCall, did Mr. Gage pass any information about his ordeal on to anyone after he arrived here?"

        "Detective, Mr. Gage was barely conscious when he was wheeled through our doors. His condition was critical. He was far from able to tell us anything about what happened up on that mountain, and we certainly weren't asking. We had a few other concerns on our minds...such as keeping him alive long enough to get him to surgery."

        "I understand. I don't mean to sound insensitive, but as I told Roy earlier, it's important that I be as thorough as possible." Mark wrote in his notebook for another full minute, then looked at Dixie again. "Do you have any idea as to when I might question Mr. Gage?"

        Dixie didn't immediately answer the man. Instead she looked at Roy with a raised eyebrow. Roy nodded his head, letting her know he had been truthful with his children regarding Johnny's condition.

        "No, Detective, I don't know when you can question Johnny. Ultimately that decision will be Doctor Brackett's. He's Johnny's physician. If Johnny..."

        Dixie paused a moment before continuing. Her eyes flicked to the faces of Johnny's friends before refocusing on Mark's.

        "If Johnny makes it through surgery he's got a long recovery ahead of him. I'm certain it will be several days before he's able to answer any questions for you. If complications should arise, as they sometimes do after a person has experienced the type of physical trauma Johnny has, well in that event it might be quite a while before you can talk to him."

        Jennifer squirmed out from between her brother and father. She walked over to Dixie and put her arms around the woman's neck.

        "Uncle Johnny will get better, Nurse Dixie. We prayed for him. We prayed real hard."

        Dixie had to bite back her tears as she returned Jennifer's hug. "I'm sure you did, sweetie. And right now that's the best thing you can do for Uncle Johnny."

        "Are you gonna pray for him, too?"

        "I already have, Jen. Several times. But yes, I'll keep praying for Johnny until I see that mischievous grin and catch him chasing one of my nurses."

        "Yeah," Jennifer giggled. "I'll keep praying for him until those things happen, too."

        When their hug ended Jennifer turned around to face the group but remained standing next to Dixie's chair. Detective Bellmen reached into a deep side pocket of suit coat. He unfolded a sturdy piece of paper eight by ten inches in size. He turned the paper around so Roy, Chris, and finally Jennifer could see the face drawn in pencil on the front.

        "Does this man look familiar to any of you?"

        "That's him!" Jennifer cried before her father or brother could say anything. "That's the man who tried to take me and who hurt Uncle Johnny!"

        Mark looked to Roy and Chris.

        "That's him," Roy confirmed.

        "Yeah," Chris agreed. "That's the man who came into our camp and tried to take my sister."

        The detective didn't offer any details on how he got a sketch of the man's face as he returned the picture to his pocket. A dozen questions sprang to Roy's mind regarding that issue, but for now he kept them to himself. He assumed Bellmen would eventually offer him an explanation. If not, Roy would make certain to get one from him before the man departed.

        Mark pulled two business cards from his pocket next. He stood and bridged the small area between him and Dixie while handing her one of the cards.

        "I'll want to speak to Doctor Brackett as soon as possible. There's a number of questions I'll need to ask him regarding Mr. Gage's injuries. And we'll need pictures of his injuries, as well, just as soon as we can take them."

        Dixie knew this request wasn't unusual. If they caught the man who stabbed Johnny pictures of the paramedic's injuries would be used in court as evidence of the violence he'd been subjected to.

        "I'll give Kel...Doctor Brackett, the message."

        "My office number is on that card, as well as my home number. If he can't reach me at one location he'll find me at the other."

        "I'll be sure to tell him that."

        "Thank you."

        Mark passed a business card to Roy as he retook his seat. "Roy, if you or your children think of anything else please give me a call. Otherwise, I'll be in touch."

        "What are your chances of finding this guy?"

        By the look on the detective's face, and his reluctance to answer Roy, the adults realized he didn't want to speak in front of the children.

        Chet looked from Chris to Jennifer. "Hey, guys, I haven't had lunch yet. Whatta ya' say the three of us and Marco take a walk to the McDonald's down the street."

        "Only if you're buying," Marco wise-cracked in an attempt to lighten the somber mood hanging over the waiting area.

        Joanne pulled her wallet out of her purse. "No, no. I'll send along money for all four of you."

        "That's not necessary," Chet argued.

        "It doesn't matter anyway," Chris said. "I'm not going. I wanna wait here until we know how Uncle Johnny is."

        "I wanna wait, too," Jennifer echoed.

        Neither Joanne nor Roy believed in allowing their children to overrule an adult's decision. Despite the ordeal they'd been through Joanne remained firm.

        "Daddy and I need to talk to the detective about things that don't concern either one of you. Jennifer, have you had anything to eat since you and Chris had granola bars this morning for breakfast?"

        "No."

        "And, Chris, you didn't eat more than two bites of the sandwich I made for you at Uncle Johnny's before we came here. I have no idea what time we'll leave to go home or when we'll eat supper. Therefore, I think you'd both better take Chet up on his generous offer."

        It was four o'clock now and the kids had to admit they were hungry. Dixie gave them the final incentive they needed to walk to McDonald's with Chet and Marco.

        "Johnny won't be out of surgery for several hours yet. You'll be back long before Doctor Brackett brings us any news."

        Joanne put ten dollars in Chris's hand. She leaned over and whispered into his ear. "Go with Chet and Marco please, and don't let Chet pay. You buy for everyone."

        Chris nodded his head as he stood. Jennifer let Marco take her hand, but she looked over her shoulder at her father as they walked toward the elevator. Roy gave her an encouraging smile.

        "You'll be fine, Princess. Marco and Chet will take good care of you."

        "I know. But what about Uncle Johnny?"

        "You heard what Nurse Dixie said. We won't have any news for a while yet. Go on now. Uncle Johnny would be upset if he knew you didn't eat because of him."

        Jennifer gave a quiet, "Okay," right before she entered the elevator with her brother and the two firemen. After the doors closed Roy looked at Bellmen.

        "That was about the most difficult thing I've ever done."

        "Pardon?"

        "Letting her out of my sight. Letting either of them out of my sight."

        "I'm sure it was. And it will continue to be for a while yet I imagine."

        "At least until the guy is caught," Roy said. "So like I asked earlier, what are the chances of that?"

        "We've had an all points bulletin out for almost two hours now. Based on the identity confirmation you and your children have given me, I'm certain this is the same man who tried to kidnap a ten year old girl as she walked home from school on Friday."

        "Tried?" Hank Stanley questioned.

        "Much like Jennifer, Tracy Nichols had a guardian angel in the form of a neighbor who saw what was happening. He chased the man off."

        "Was he attacked like Johnny?" Roy asked.

        "No. This attempted kidnapping took place in broad daylight in a residential park. The girl's screams not only drew her neighbor's attention, who was arriving at the park with his young sons, but also the attention of a driver passing by and the woman who lived across the street. I imagine the assailant simply wanted to get the 'hell out of Dodge' as the expression goes."

"I suppose," Roy agreed.

        "The girl--Tracy--she wasn't harmed either?" Joanne asked.

        "No. Like your Jennifer, shaken up. Frightened. But like I said, lucky."

        "Yeah," Roy agreed, thinking of Jennifer's guardian angel in the form of John Gage. "Lucky."

        "As soon as Mr. Gage is settled in a room I'll be putting a guard on his door."

        "Does that mean you think the man might come after him?" Joanne asked. "Or after Jennifer or Chris?"

        "It means that, although I think the possibility is a remote one, I want to take every precaution possible. Neither your children's names nor Mr. Gage's name will be released to the press."

        "What about Chris and Jen?" Joanne asked. "How do we keep them safe?"

        "I'll order increased squad patrols in your neighborhood. I also advise you not to allow your children to go to and from school alone, or to walk or ride their bikes anywhere alone for the time being. You'll want to keep a close eye on them while at the same time not scaring them or making them feel confined."

        "Easier said than done," Roy mumbled, knowing it would be a long time before he and Joanne would allow either of the kids to go anywhere unattended by an adult.

        "I have three children of my own, Roy, so I know how you must be feeling. But believe me when I say the odds of this guy tracking down your kids, or John, are pretty low. Usually these guys get out of town as fast as they can when they've come as close to being caught as he has."

        "Maybe so," Roy acknowledged, "but he sure hung around those woods long enough after his first attack on Johnny."

        "You're right, he did. And that is unusual. However, I have several theories regarding that event. First of all he was angry because of his thwarted attempt on Tracy Nichols. When John interfered with his attempt to kidnap Jennifer the guy went into a mindless frenzy as exhibited by the injuries John sustained. He was enraged that someone was keeping him from his victim once again. I believe he returned this afternoon for several reasons. One; to see if John was dead. Two; to see if Jennifer was still in the area. And three; depending on what he found, to attempt to finish what he started."

        "Kidnapping my daughter," Roy concluded.

        "Exactly. When he found John alive, and couldn't find Jennifer, he was once again enraged which prompted his final attack. There's no doubt in my mind he would have beaten John to death with that billy club had you not arrived on the scene when you did. Assailants like the type who tried to kidnap your daughter have a strong need to be in control of their environment at all times. John took that control away from the moment he tackled the guy last night right up until the moment he hid Jennifer under his body this afternoon. Even while John was being beaten he was still, in a strong sense, in control of the situation. As long as he didn't reveal where Jennifer was the guy couldn't get what he was after. And if he'd killed John without John ever revealing where Jennifer was then even in death John would have, in essence, been controlling the man. Or at least that's the way the assailant would always view this incident."

        When no one said anything further the detective stood. Roy copied the man's movement and held out his hand.

        "Detective, thank you for everything."

        The man shook Roy's hand as his eyes took in both the DeSotos.

        "Roy, Joanne, thank you. And again, if you or the children think of anything else please contact me no matter what time of the day or night. Otherwise I'll be in touch with you when we get a break in this case. The FBI will be involved as well. We'll get this guy. I promise."

        "For the sake of every little girl who's walking home from school,......" Joanne paused, forced to swallow sudden tears before she could continue, "or camping in the woods with her favorite uncle, I hope you do."

        "I hope we do, too, Joanne. Believe me, I'll do everything in my power to see that happen."

        The detective turned and walked to the elevator with a briskness to his stride that said he had many bases to cover regarding this investigation prior to his day coming to an end.

        The group that remained behind settled back to wait. Captain Stanley shook his head in mixture of shock and awe.

        "That was quite a story."

        Mike Stoker nodded his head. "I'll say."

        "Yeah," Roy quietly agreed. "Who would have ever thought a simple camping trip a few miles from Johnny's ranch...something he and my kids have done a dozen times, would have turned out like this? All because some...some goddamn nut was wandering around up there and spotted my nine year old daughter. I don't know what's worse. The thought of what would have happened to Jennifer had that guy managed to kidnap her, or the thought of what happened to Johnny because he was able to stop the guy from kidnapping her."

        Roy's words hung heavy in the air. Although little was known about the assailant who had invaded John Gage's campsite, everyone present could easily imagine what his plans were for his nine year old victim. Roy wasn't a wealthy man. The guy wasn't kidnapping Jennifer for ransom. Most likely she would have been sexually assaulted and then murdered.

        Hank offered the only thing he could in an attempt to give Roy some peace of mind.

        "John wouldn't have wanted it any other way, Roy. You know that. He'd have never forgiven himself had that guy made off with Jenny."

        "I know. It just...it's just that I...it's tough, you know. I'm overjoyed that my little girl is safe, while at the same time the price of that safety has come high. I...I just..."

         Joanne took her husband's hand as Roy's voice trailed off.

        "You feel guilty," Dixie finished for the paramedic.

        Roy looked up at Dixie, trying to mask his surprise at how easily she'd read his thoughts.

        "You feel guilty because you're happy Jennifer's safe, while at the same time Johnny's fighting to survive. Life has a strange way of reminding us that we can't always have things both ways, Roy. Don't tear yourself apart because you feel like any father would in your situation. Remember what Hank said. Johnny wouldn't have wanted this to turn out any other way. I saw what that knife did to him. I saw the bruises that cover his back from that billy club. It's nothing short of a miracle that club didn't do more damage. You now as well as I do what the consequences would have been if Johnny had gotten one good whack on the skull, or if that beating would have broken his neck. Johnny surely knew that, too. But regardless of those facts he did what he had to in order to protect Jennifer. You said it yourself. Johnny loves your kids like they're his own. And he loves you and Joanne like he'd love a brother and sister. Rather than feel guilty about what Johnny's love drove him to do, rejoice in it. I know that sounds corny, but to do any less is disrespectful to the person John Gage is, and to the sacrifice he so willingly made."

        Roy didn't trust his voice. He merely nodded at Dixie's words, knowing how true they were.

        Though neither Roy nor Joanne outwardly showed it, they were both relieved when Chris and Jennifer reappeared thirty minutes later. They knew neither Marco nor Chet would let the children out of their sight; nonetheless like Roy had told Bellmen, it would be a long time before the terror of this day wasn't in the forefront of his mind.

        Jennifer ran from the elevator to the waiting area. "Have you heard anything about Uncle Johnny?"

        Roy lifted his daughter into his lap. "No, sweetie. Not yet."

        Chris sat between his parents while Chet took the seat Bellmen had occupied and Marco perched on the coffee table. Other than someone getting up to make use of the rest room, or to buy a soda, or the time Mike and then Hank, used the pay phone to call their wives, the group remained together waiting for word on Johnny. Roy didn't even attempt to tell the others to go home. The Station 51 A-shift had worked together for over six years now. The same length of time Johnny and Roy had been partners. Like any fire station family, they had their disagreements on occasion, but come hell or high water they were always there for one another. Whether it was to gather at Captain Stanley's house for the picnic held in honor of his youngest daughter's high school graduation, or spend a Saturday at Johnny's ranch helping him build the deck that was now on the back of his house, or come together to celebrate the christening of Mike's new son as they'd done in February, or wait at Rampart for word from a doctor when one of them had been injured on the job. It was this last scenario that Hank Stanley hated. Today, he hated more than he'd ever hated it in the past.

        Roy's right. This is so unfair. We put our lives on the line every time we go out on a call, every one of us is aware of the risks our job involves. So Johnny's doing nothing more than enjoying his days away from those risks by taking a camping trip with Roy's kids, and then some psycho with a knife shows up. Lord, let him pull through this. For someone who's so skinny a strong wind could blow him away, John Gage is one of the toughest guys I've ever run across. Talk about someone who's not afraid to go where angels fear to tread. You gotta help him hang on, Lord. Roy...it'll just kill Roy if Johnny doesn't make it. Especially considering the circumstances that brought us here to begin with.

        Chet must have been having similar thoughts.

        "I should have never teased him about it," the man muttered.

        "What?" Hank asked. "What'd you say, Kelly?"

        Chet looked up. "I said I shouldn't have teased him."

        "Teased who?"

        "Johnny."

        "About what?"

        "The other day. Thursday. When we were going off duty. I was teasing him about how accident-prone he is. Telling him to be careful around Roy's kids so his klutziness didn't rub off on them."

        "Chet, if you didn't tease Johnny at least twenty-three hours out of every twenty-four he'd think you were mad at him," Marco said. "Don't worry about it. Nothing you said caused this to happen. You know that."

        "Yeah. I know. It's just that..."

        "Uncle Johnny won't care if you him tease, Chet," Jennifer said from her father's lap. "As long as he has lots of morphine he says it doesn't matter."

        "Huh?"

        "When we were in the woods. Waiting for Daddy to come. I told Uncle
Johnny you'd come, too, and start telling bad jokes. Uncle Johnny said I was supposed to have Daddy give him morphine before that happened. He said then he wouldn't care about your jokes. That no matter how dumb they are they wouldn't bother him at all."

        The adults couldn't help but laugh at Jennifer's words. Chet simply shook his head.

        "You know, Jen, I think you spend way too much time with your Uncle Johnny. Me? Tell bad jokes?"

        "You do, Chet," Jennifer confirmed. "Really bad jokes."

        It was little conversations like this that occasionally broke the tension hanging over the group while they waited. Jennifer was dozing against Roy's chest when he saw a weary Kelly Brackett exit the elevator at seven thirty that evening. The paramedic set his daughter on the couch and stood. Jennifer's eyes popped open as everyone around her copied her father's movement. She stood and wormed her way in-between her mother and Chris.

        Roy tried to read Brackett's expression as he approached them. By the slump of Brackett's shoulders and the weariness that circled his eyes Roy could tell the doctor was exhausted, meaning the surgery had been long and eventful.
The man was no longer in scrubs, which indicated to Dixie the medical garb were in no condition to be seen by Johnny's friends. The doctor was dressed now in the gray slacks and white shirt he'd worn to the hospital. His tie was around his neck, though the first two buttons on his shirt collar was undone and the knot of his tie hung loose at the third button. He was rolling down his sleeves and buttoning the cuffs as he walked down the corridor.

        Brackett ignored Roy's, "Doc?" and Dixie's, "Kel?" to instead motion the group to reseat themselves. The doctor gave a grateful smile to Chet when the fireman offered him his chair. He'd arrived at the hospital at six-thirty that morning, and had been on his feet that entire time other than the thirty minute break he'd taken in the cafeteria at noon.

        Chet returned to leaning against the soda machine as he'd done when Bellmen was there. Joanne slipped an arm around her children. She wasn't sure what Doctor Brackett was going to say to them, but she had a feeling it wasn't going to be good.

        "Doc?" Roy prompted again. The paramedic hardly recognized his voice. The last time he remembered it sounding this high, and this scared, was when Johnny had been struck by the hit and run driver a few years back.

        Brackett started with what everyone wanted to hear. "Johnny made it through surgery."

        The doctor allowed everyone their smiles and sighs of relief. He heard someone say, "All right!" and pegged the exclamation to come from Chet Kelly.

        Brackett held up one hand before the celebration could go too far.

        "However; and this is a big however, the next forty-eight hours are going to be touch and go at best."

        "Touch and go?" Hank asked.

        "He's barely hanging on. If it was anyone but Johnny I'd have little hope of recovery. But all one hundred and fifty pounds of that skinny paramedic are made of steel. Or so I've come to think. He lost a lot of blood before he got here. The surgery was long and tedious. There was quite a bit of damage to repair. This entire ordeal has taken its toll on his system."

        "What is the extent of the damage, Doc?" Roy asked.

        "The knife hit his right lung and right kidney. Thanks to a well-placed rib the injury to the lung was minimal which is what kept it from completely collapsing on Johnny. As far as the wound to the kidney goes...well you know how a kidney bleeds, Roy. It took all my skill, and little help from the man above, to get the bleeding stopped. I'm amazed,...heck, I'm more than amazed, that he made it off that mountain alive." Doctor Brackett seemed to take notice of Roy's children for the first time. He smiled at them, trying to alleviate their fright. "And I hear you two are to thank for that."

        "We just did what Uncle Johnny told us to," Chris said.

        "That might be so, Chris, but that's exactly the point. You did what John told you to and you did it well. Both you and Jennifer."

        "Uncle Johnny couldn't die, Doctor Brackett," Jen said. "He had to take care of me. He told me so. He said he could never face Daddy if something happened to me."

        Brackett reached over and patted Jen's knee. "I'm sure the knowledge that your safety was in his hands did keep Johnny alive. It gave him something to cling to. It forced him to stay as alert as he could. I've learned that the human spirit will go to miraculous lengths when the need arises."

        The doctor turned his attention back to Roy. Though he was speaking to everyone, he maintained eye contact with the worried paramedic.

        "Aside from the internal injuries, blood loss and the stress of the surgery, John's right shoulder was dislocated and his left radius and ulna suffered nasty breaks. Doctor Taylor, the orthopedic surgeon, says that Johnny's wrist was twisted with more force than he's ever seen used. Between that and the force that was behind those knife wounds, I assume the assailant was a large man?"

        "Like a giant," Jennifer said.

        "Huge," Chris added.

        Roy smiled a little at his children's words while nodding. "At least six foot five. Maybe six six. He had to weigh three hundred pounds if he weighed an ounce."

        Brackett let out a low whistle. "That's twice Johnny's weight. How he ever managed to hold his own against the guy...well, I guess we can chalk that up to the old Gage stubbornness. In this case not knowing when to say 'uncle' has its good points. "

        "What about his other injuries?" Roy asked. "The stab wounds to his arm, leg, and clavicle...collar bone?" Roy quickly corrected his last term so everyone present would know what he was talking about in much the same way Doctor Brackett was using terms more commonly understood by those not in the medical field.

        "Overall they caused us the least worry. Nonetheless, they're just that much more Johnny has to deal with right now. We stopped the bleeding, then cleaned and stitched. He'll definitely need physical therapy to bring that biceps muscle and calf muscle back to full strength. As far as nerve damage goes, we'll just have to wait and see. Until John is up and mobile again we won't know what kind of long-term effects these injuries might bring him. His collarbone was nicked by the knife. Since we already have his arm in a sling because of the dislocated shoulder that takes care of immobilizing that entire area. More than likely he'll be forced to undergo physical therapy to bring that shoulder back up to full strength, too. He's also severely dehydrated from the blood loss and the hours that passed between when the injury first happened and when he arrived here. Because of that lung injury I've got him on a ventilator. I was hoping that wouldn't be necessary, but like I said, he's weak and he's been through a lot. For now we'll let the vent help him out. The other concern is secondary infection. Where that knife had been, or how dirty it was, is anyone's guess. I'm going to start John on broad-spectrum antibiotics as a precaution. Any potential problem we can prevent at this point will only benefit him."

        Brackett answered the various questions that were tossed at him from John's friends. When nothing further was forthcoming he said, "I think it would be wise to notify Johnny's family. Roy, do you have a phone number of someone I can contact?"

        Of all the things Roy knew about his partner, and there were plenty, his family was the one subject John rarely talked about.

        "Actually, I don't. But I'm sure I can find something at his house. I know his mother is deceased, but his father and paternal grandfather are still living."

        "If you can't find anything at his house there should be some sort of next of kin notification in his records with the department," Hank Stanley said. "Let me check there first."

"All right," Roy nodded. He turned to Brackett. "How soon can I see him?"

        "He's in Recovery right now. As soon as he wakes up we'll be taking him to ICU. You and the kids have had a long day. There's really no point in you waiting. I'll be keeping Johnny heavily sedated for the next few days. I don't want him to have to fight any pain or the ventilator. He's too weak for that."

        "No," Roy shook his head. "Even if I can only see him for a minute, it's important that he knows I'm here."

        Dixie spoke up before Doctor Brackett could veto that.

        "Kel, Roy's right. After everything Johnny's been through a short visit from his partner won't do him any harm. Granted, he might not even know Roy is with him, but if he does then that's only for the better."

        "Besides, Doctor Brackett," Jennifer said, "Daddy has to tell Uncle Johnny that Joe's okay. That the policeman was going to take Joe to a vet for us, and that when Joe's all better he'll stay at our house until you let Uncle Johnny go home."

        Though the doctor didn't know exactly what the girl was talking about, he did know Joe was John's dog.

        Brackett pursed his lips and acted like he was putting heavy weight on that statement.

        "Well, Jenny, now that you put it that way...all right. I guess you'd better stick around a little longer, Roy. Obviously you've got some important news to convey to your partner."

        "Yeah." Roy placed a hand on the top of his daughter's head while looking at both his children. "Yeah, I do. Several pieces of important news."

        The doctor stood.

        "I'm going to check on Johnny now. As soon as he starts coming out of the anesthesia I'll be back for you."

        "Thanks, Doc. For everything."

        "Don't thank me, thank Johnny," Brackett replied with a meaningful glance at Jennifer.

        Roy smiled. "Why do you think I have to see him before I go home tonight?"

        "I understand," the physician said. "Sometimes I get too caught up in the day to day drama of this place to remember how valuable a simple thank you can be."

        Roy pulled his daughter to him and squeezed her as tight as he dared.

        "In this case, Doc, it's more valuable than you can imagine."

         "I'm sure it is, Roy," Brackett agreed as he headed for the elevator. He thought of all the little girls who were the targets of sexual predators that didn't live to make it home to their fathers. "I'm sure it is," the doctor quietly repeated as he made his way to the Recovery Room.

        ____________________________

        An hour later Roy walked with Doctor Brackett into the large multi-bed ward that housed patients recovering from surgery. Because it was Sunday only emergency surgeries were performed, meaning the ward was almost empty. A teenage boy who'd sustained injuries in a car accident was sleeping off anesthesia in one bed, while a man who'd fallen from the roof of his house and broken both legs did the same in another. On Kelly Brackett's orders Johnny had been placed on the opposite wall from his two temporary roommates, and was in the bed closest to the nurse's station.

        Roy had known what to expect prior to entering the ward. Nonetheless, knowing what to expect and seeing your best friend bandaged, pale, and hooked up to more IV's and machines than a person could count on first glance, was two different things.

        The paramedic hesitated a moment before following Brackett to Johnny's bed. They still had Johnny laying a quarter of the way on his left side. Now instead of blankets propping him into that position pillows did. His left arm was a few inches from his body, the cast resting on a small pillow as well. A drainage tube sprouted from his chest, a stint lift and drainage tube were in place as a result of the surgery to his kidney. Though a blanket rose to the middle of Johnny's chest, he hadn't been dressed in a hospital gown yet making it easy for Roy to see every bruise and abrasion that dotted his upper body from rib cage to shoulders.

        Oh, Johnny, you fought so hard for my daughter. You fought so damn hard, partner. How can I ever repay you for that?

        Kelly bent over his patient.

        "John? Johnny? It's Kelly Brackett. John, can you open your eyes for me again like you did a few minutes ago?"

        When he got no response Kelly placed his hand on Johnny's right thigh just above his knee. Since John's right shoulder was injured he didn't want to give it a shake, so used the thigh in place of it.

        "Johnny? Come on now. Open your eyes for me. John, come on. You've got a visitor. Roy's going to be awfully disappointed if he can't speak with you before I make him gather up his family and go home."

        Whether it was the firm insistence in Kelly Brackett's tone, or the mention of Roy's name that finally brought Johnny around neither man knew. They watched as Johnny fought to open his eye lids. The doctor took a step back so Roy could take his place.

        For lack of any other unmarred spot to touch his partner, Roy put his hand where Doctor Brackett's had been resting.

        "Johnny? Johnny, it's Roy. Open your eyes, partner."

        Johnny struggled, but was unable to open his eyes more than half way. They remained clouded by the after-effects of the anesthesia as they lethargically traveled the area around his bed.

        "Johnny? Johnny, look at me, okay? Junior, I'm right here with you. Look at me, pal. No, no, don't close your eyes again. Look at me, John. Look at me."

        It took another round of urging on Roy's part before Johnny was able to do as he ordered. Roy wasn't certain how much of what he was saying Johnny was taking in, but he didn't care. He just wanted to make certain John knew he was there with him.

        "Johnny, you're all right now. You're at Rampart. Doc Brackett says you'll be on your feet and causing trouble for Dixie in no time." Roy gave his partner's thigh a light squeeze. "Joanne and the kids say hi. Jennifer said to make sure I tell you Joe's okay. He'll be staying with us until you're ready to go home. And don't worry about the horses or Mrs. Gage and her tribe. Joanne called Bob Emery. He'll take care of everything around your place and keep an eye on the house while you're laid up."

        Kelly was carefully watching John during Roy's talk with him. First appearances would indicate that there was little of what Roy was saying that Johnny was assimilating. That fact didn't surprise the doctor. At this point Johnny would feel as though he'd been awakened from a deep sleep he wanted nothing other than to return to. Kelly doubted he'd recall any of this conversation within thirty seconds of them leaving the room. But at the mention of Jennifer's name Kelly saw the numbers on the heart monitor begin to rise. He observed the paramedic move three fingers on his casted left hand and try to lift it from the pillow as if he was trying to get Roy's attention. The doctor also thought Johnny's eyes were open a bit wider now. What he could see within them was no longer disinterested lethargy brought on by the drugs, but fear. Raw terror combined with unspeakable fright.

        "Roy,...Roy,...stop a minute," the doctor interrupted Roy's dialogue just as the paramedic was assuring Johnny that Joanne would get his mail for him on a daily basis. "Let him know Jennifer's all right."

        Roy turned to look at Brackett. "What?"

        "His heart rate's rising. As soon as you mentioned Jennifer it started going up. He's worried about her, Roy. Calm him down."

        Johnny was hooked up to too many machines to outwardly be able to show many signs of agitation, but when Roy turned back to him he could see the same things Brackett observed. And his eyes. Despite the drug induced haze that dulled those normally animated brown eyes, Roy could see the panic building as Johnny fought to somehow voice all the questions he so desperately needed answered.

        "It's okay, partner. Jennifer's fine. She's safe, Johnny. You kept her safe. Her and Chris both. They're fine. Chris and Jen are all right. They're with Joanne. They wanted to see you, but Doc Brackett told them they'd have to wait a few days for that. When you're feeling better I'll make sure they get to come and tell their favorite uncle hello."

        Roy moved his hand from John's thigh to his head. He leaned closer and spoke into his partner's ear while brushing a clump of tangled hair away from Johnny's face.

        "She's okay, John. Jenny's okay. You took care of her for me, Junior. Joanne and I will never be able to thank you enough for the way you took care of her for us."

        Roy's assurances did what Doctor Brackett hoped they would. Johnny's heart rate began to drop to a normal level as his eyes slowly closed.

        Roy didn't move from Johnny's side until he was certain his partner had slipped back to sleep. Brackett touched his arm, indicating to Roy it was time for him to leave. Quietly he said, "Come on, Roy. It's time for you to go home and get some rest yourself. Johnny will be moved to ICU in a little while."

        The blond paramedic gave his partner's foot a gentle squeeze as he walked toward the door with the doctor. "You'll do everything you can to keep him from feeling any pain, right?"

        "Yes. Although you know as well as I do that his recovery isn't going to be pain free, especially when he starts physical therapy. But until he's stronger I'll be keeping him heavily sedated like I said earlier."

        "I just...I just don't want him to have to go through any more than he already has."

        Kelly put a hand on Roy's shoulder as they headed for the elevator.

        "I know you don't. But hey, don't look so glum. Johnny's got more friends in this hospital than I do. There's going to be a lot of people looking out for him. Especially when they hear what brought him to us. Don't you worry, he'll be well taken care of. And thoroughly spoiled to boot."

Roy couldn't dispute Brackett's words. Johnny had a knack for making friends, and there was hardly an employee in the hospital he didn't know on a first name basis, right down to a part time custodian who only worked weekends. Regardless of that fact, it wasn't easy for Roy DeSoto to leave the hospital that night. He stood looking up at the Recovery Room windows from the parking lot until he heard Joanne beckon softly from the passenger seat of the car.

        "Hon, come on. Let's get these tired children of ours home. Doctor Brackett said he'd call us if there was any change."

        Roy slid behind the wheel. Any change Doctor Brackett had to report at this point regarding Johnny's condition would not be good. As he drove home through the dark streets Roy prayed the phone wouldn't ring all night.

____________________________

        John Gage climbed to the vaguest edges of consciousness as he felt hands touch his body.

        Run! Run! Run! His mind screamed. Run! Get away! Hide! Hide!

        A woman's voice spoke softly into his ear. He ignored the soothing tone and the words that told him he was all right. That he was safe.

        I know I'm safe! I know I'm all right! But where's Kim? Where's Jessie?
Kim! Jessie! Kim...oh, God, Kim! No! Jessie! Jess...oh no. No! Please, no!

        The woman's voice was back again along with her hands. One hand was on the side of his face and the other resting on his head. Her perfume smelled familiar. And her voice. He should know that husky voice. But who was she? Reah? Was Reah here with him? But where was here? And besides, Reah wouldn't come, would she? She'd been angry with him for a long time now. For years she'd been scolding him for running away. For not facing all that had happened that fateful night when he was just a kid of twenty years old. Easy for her to say. But then it was always easy to toss around an opinion when you were on the outside looking in, instead of the other way around.

        Disturbing dreams swirled through Johnny's mind in kaleidoscope fashion. Roy...he remembered hearing Roy's voice. Roy told him Jessie was okay. He promised him that Kim and Jessie were fine.

        Kim and Jessie are fine. They're fine. That's what Roy said, and Roy would never lie to me. Never.

        Those comforting thoughts lulled John Gage back into the heavy sleep inspired by sedation. His ICU nurse, Sue Latovich, looked across his bed at Dixie McCall.

        "His heart rate is dropping again."

        "He's going back to sleep," the veteran nurse said. "The move from Recovery to here no doubt disturbed him a bit."

        "Why don't you head on home, Dixie. You look beat. I can finish washing Johnny and get a gown on him."

        Yes, Dixie was beat. But like Roy, she needed to spend a few minutes with the gravely injured man she'd grown so close to over the past ten years.

        "I'll stay long enough to help you. You don't have a nurse's aid available at this hour, and cleaning Johnny up while working around all this equipment is no easy task."

        Sue didn't argue further. Dixie made a good point, and she was grateful for the assistance. She watched the older nurse through her lashes as they gently washed dirt and grime off the parts of John's body that hadn't already been cleaned prior to surgery. While Sue washed her patient's hair using a basin of warm water and sponge, Dixie wiped his face off with a wash cloth. There was something about the look in Dixie's eyes as she cared for John that made Sue ask something she'd wondered for over a year now.

        "Dixie, are you and Johnny..." As quickly as the dark headed woman had started to speak, she cut herself off. She couldn't believe what had just about come out her mouth.

        You let your guard down entirely too much when you work these night shifts, Sue. Just because the hospital is quiet, and there's no one around to overhear most conversations, doesn't give you the right to ask questions that are none of your business.

        Dixie raised an eyebrow. "Are Johnny and I what, Sue?"

        Damn.

        Sue gave the formidable nurse a half smile that broadcast her discomfort.

        "I'm sorry. I was about to ask a question that was none of my business."

        "I see. And was this a question other people have been wanting to ask me, too?"

        Sue's cheeks grew warm. She has no doubt she was blushing as she continued washing Johnny's hair.

        "Huh...yes. Yes, I suppose so. I mean...I've heard some talk, you know."

        "No, I don't know. Though I can probably take a good guess. After all, I am forty-seven years old, single, and keep my private life private. I suppose that is the fodder for gossip on occasion."

        The young nurse nodded her head.

        "So let me guess," Dixie said as she dabbed Johnny's face with a soft, dry towel before starting to wash his upper body. "You...and a number of other people, are wondering if John Gage and I are an item. Are having an affair. Am I correct?"

        By now Sue wished the floor would open up and swallow her. She had nothing but the utmost respect for Dixie McCall. And for John Gage. They both excelled in their chosen fields. If they did see each other in their off time, whose business was it anyway?

        "Sue?" Dixie pressed for an answer. "Am I correct?"

        The woman cleared her throat as she grabbed a clean towel and began to dry John's hair. "Yes. Um...yes, you're correct." Sue's hazel eyes finally met Dixie's blue ones. "Dixie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. I...I was just curious, that's all. Johnny...well, he's always flirting with you and--"

        Dixie laughed. "Johnny Gage flirts with every nurse in this hospital. Or at least every nurse with the exception of Bob Carlson and Pete Manfred."

        Sue chuckled at Dixie's reply. Bob and Pete were currently the only male nurses on Rampart's staff. "That's true, but..."

        "But what?"

        "I don't know. You two seem to have a special rapport. A bond that goes deeper than just the head nurse of the ER and a county paramedic."

        Dixie thought about this as she finished Johnny's sponge bath. She laid her cloth and towel on the nightstand and then walked over to the chair where Sue had set a hospital gown. She unfolded the gown and carried it back to the bed.

        "Let's get this on Johnny and get him settled in."

        What would have been a major undertaking for most people considering the IV's, heart monitor, ventilator, drainage tubes, cast, and sling, was a fairly mundane task for the two experienced nurses. As Dixie worked around the pillows against Johnny's back in order to tie the gown she finally made a reply to Sue regarding the subject of her relationship with the dark headed paramedic.

        "You're right, Sue."

        The younger nurse looked up from combing the tangles out of Johnny's damp hair. "Pardon me?" She squeaked, sure that the rumored May/December romance between Dixie and Johnny was about to be confirmed.

        "Johnny and I do have a special rapport. He was only twenty-one when I first met him. He was a rescue man then for the fire department. He had basic EMT training and often rode with patients in the ambulance. I was the one who encouraged him to check into the paramedic program upon its inception. As a matter of fact I was the one who gave him Roy DeSoto's name and phone number. Roy was in our first paramedic class of six men that year. It was his job to recruit other firemen into the program. John talked to him, and four months later graduated from our second class. Johnny and I have been friends a long time. Ten years now. But no, we're not having an affair and we never have had one. John...John reminds me a lot of my younger brother. One hundred watt charm that he knows how to use to get his way, off the wall sense of humor, limitless energy, an enthusiastic boy in a man's body, a royal pain in the butt when he chooses to be,....and yet deep down, mature, level headed, smart, ambitious...the kind of guy you'd want by your side in times of trouble. Like I said, a good friend. A very good friend." A tinge of sorrow touched Dixie's eyes as she finished tying Johnny's gown. Mindful of his injuries, she gave his right shoulder a gentle pat. "Sometimes he really makes me miss Thane."

        "Thane?"

        "My baby brother."

        "Don't you get to see him very often?"

        "No, I don't." Dixie raised her eyes so the two women were looking at each other. "He was killed in Vietnam in 1964. Most people had never even heard of the place then. He...he was a medic. Like John Gage, he put his life on the line every day in order to save others. Thane wanted to be a doctor when he got out of the service. I guess big sister's nursing career inspired his interest in the medical field. Or so he often told me. He was twenty when he died. I was fourteen years his senior. There was just the two of us. Despite our age difference we were close. So very close. I swear my heart broke in two the night my father called me with the news. I don't think it's ever quite mended. So like sometimes happens when we lose a loved one, fate brought someone else to me who looks upon me as a big sister."

        "Johnny," Sue stated.

        "He's never told me that in so many words, but yes, Johnny."

        "Have you ever told him about Thane?"

        "No, I haven't."

        "Why not?"

        "I don't know. I guess because our paths generally cross here at the hospital where there's usually half a dozen people standing next to us. If we see each other outside of work it's at the annual Firemen's picnic, or some other social function being hosted by mutual friends." Dixie arched an eyebrow at the woman. "Contrary to what's churning in the rumor mill, John Gage and I don't socialize privately." Dixie smiled a little as she brushed a hand through Johnny's damp hair. "I love this guy to death, but rest assured, he's not my type. I'd have to put a leash on him just to keep track of him. Johnny's got too much energy for this old broad."

        "Dixie! You aren't old."

        "Oh, to some I'm not I don't suppose, but to others I am. So the next time anyone asks, you can tell them that Johnny and I are just friends. Very good friends, but nothing more."

        Sue's eyes twinkled. "I bet if I have this same conversation with Johnny I'll get an entirely different story."

        Dixie chuckled. Yes, she could easily imagine Johnny weaving a tale of a torrid romance between them if given the slightest ounce of encouragement.

        As Sue left the room with the basin of water, wash cloths, and towels they'd been using, Dixie bent down by the paramedic's right ear and whispered, "You better not even think of starting such a rumor, John Gage, or you'll be in Nurse McCall's dog house."

        Dixie sobered as she looked at her critically ill friend. She placed a kiss on his right temple just like she'd have done had it been Thane lying here.

        "You rest easy tonight, Johnny. You're safe now. You're going to be fine. You're going to be just fine."

        The nurse checked Johnny's monitors one last time, pulled the blanket up to his chest, then exited the room. Dixie spoke with Sue before leaving the hospital, making the ICU nurse promise to call her at home if John's condition changed for the worse.

        "I will, Dixie. You can count on it."

        Johnny felt someone brush his hair back from his forehead, then kiss his temple. He wanted to tell Reah not to leave. He wanted her to stay with him. The last time she'd told him he'd be fine and she left, she brought bad news when she returned. He didn't want her to bring him bad news again. He wanted her to stay with him and promise him things really were okay. He tried to call her name, but something was in his throat. He wanted to rip it out, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't lift his arms.

        Reah! Reah, come back! Please come back!

        Within seconds the name Reah changed to Roy in John's mind. He had no idea why the thought of Roy upset him so much, he just knew he felt the same urgency to talk to Roy as he felt to talk to Reah. It was so confusing. He had no idea where he was or why he hurt so bad. He didn't know how much time had passed before he realized someone was with him again. It was a woman's voice, but she wasn't Reah. Soon a man's voice interrupted his frantic thoughts. It was a deep voice. Almost gravely in nature, and Johnny was sure he should be able to identify it. The man seemed to be trying to calm him down. Or at least Johnny heard "Calm down, John" and "You're okay" a couple of times. Then he heard the man mutter, "Damn," right before he felt hands on his back. But just like the woman wasn't Reah, the man wasn't Roy, so John really didn't care what he had to say.

        The paramedic wanted to scream and lash out with his fists when the man rolled him to the left, but the garden hose in his throat and the restraints he couldn't identify that held his right arm close to his body and weighted down the left, wouldn't allow it. Why was this man torturing him? What had he ever done to deserve this? But then he remembered. Kim. Jessie. Chris. Jennifer. The names pounded in his brain even thought he couldn't put a face to any of them, and was unable to decipher who they were or how he knew them.

        Doctor Brackett breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he finally stopped the flow of blood coming from the stitched knife wounds on Johnny's back. With Sue's help Kelly got John rebandaged. He grabbed Johnny's chart from the foot of the bed and changed his previous medication order while Sue tied the paramedic's gown and covered him once more. Kelly talked to the nurse while he wrote.

        "This is exactly why it's of the utmost importance that he remains calm and quiet for the next few days. If he keeps pulling stunts like this on me I'll have the entire fire department and most of this hospital staff waiting to tar and feather me. I want him monitored every ten minutes, Sue. Make sure the first shift nurse gets the same message. I'm heading home now, but if anything changes you call me, no matter what time it is."

        "I will, Doctor Brackett."

        "Doctor Sonnders is on duty this evening. I've briefed him regarding Johnny's condition. You can page him if necessary, too."

        "Yes, Doctor," Sue promised as she left the room to get the stronger sedative Brackett had ordered for his patient.

        Kelly hung the chart back on the end of the bed. Right before he headed home for the night he gave his paramedic's right foot a gentle squeeze.
     

"You hang in there, buddy. I know you hurt, and I know you're confused and scared right now, but just give yourself a few days to heal. Just give yourself that chance, Johnny. Just give yourself that chance."

        As Kelly walked out to the doctor's parking lot he didn't realize he was praying for the same thing Roy DeSoto had two hours earlier. That his phone wouldn't ring all night.
        

Chapter 22

        
        Reah fumbled as she attempted to insert the house key into the lock. She could hear the echo of the ringing phone as she stepped in the back door. While she ran for the phone she flipped on the light switch and tossed her father's mail on the butcher-block kitchen counter.

        "Coming!" She called as though the person on the other end could hear her. "I'm coming!"

        Reah didn't even get a chance to say hello before the connection on the other end was broken and she was left listening to a dial tone. The woman shrugged her shoulders while hanging up the phone.

        "Whoever it is will probably call back."

        Not that Reah would necessarily be in her father's home when that happened. Chad Gage was in Washington D.C. attending a conference at the Bureau of Indian Affairs. While he was gone Reah, along with her grandfather, was taking care of the livestock on the Gage ranch.

        The woman pushed a thick strand of long dark hair behind one ear as she walked through the log style ranch home that reminded her of a hunting lodge nestled deep in the mountains. Her mother had been dead for ten and a half years now, but the house was as neat and clean as it had been when Laurel Gage was alive. Reah had been surprised to see her father transform into an independent widower who took care of his own cooking, cleaning, and laundry. To a large degree her parents' marriage had been a very traditional one, as was common for people in their age group. Add to that Reah's father was a full-blooded Waupun Indian and you had a man who had never changed a diaper, let alone put a load of laundry in a machine throughout his twenty nine years of marriage. But circumstances do change people, and Reah was the first to admit that a succession of sorrowful circumstances had changed her father in more ways than she could name.

        As Reah walked through the sunken great room she passed the massive stone fireplace and her father's favorite recliner. She smiled when she recalled how hard her dad and mom had worked to build this home. How hard they'd worked so they could raise their children off the reservation. She doubted John even remembered much about living on the reservation. He'd been six when they'd moved to this ranch adjacent to it. But she'd been eleven, and the poverty, idleness, and boredom that spurred alcohol abuse and gambling addictions amongst the teenage boys and grown men were still prevalent in her mind.

        Reah looked at the collection of pictures hanging on the far wall. All of them were of her and John. The pictures recalled childhood from birth through high school graduation. In Reah's case, they continued until they documented her graduation from college with a Masters degree in nursing as well. She'd wanted to be a doctor, but the financial drain that type of education would put on her parents was more than she could ask for. So she settled for obstetrical nursing with a bold thought in mind. To return the reservation where she'd spent much of her childhood and act as nurse/midwife to the women there who so often received no prenatal care at all.

        Typical of a Gage, Reah had done just what she'd set her mind to. Though she wasn't a doctor, she might as well have been for all the assistance she offered her patients. Long ago she stopped counting how many babies she'd delivered. Even longer ago she'd stopped counting how many of them had been named for her. However; she never stopped counting how many women had lived to raise their healthy babies because of her. That was all that mattered to Reah. Healthy mothers, healthy children. It was a basic right every woman in America should be granted, but so many who lived in poverty weren't.

        Reah's eyes wandered to the pictures of her brother. There was only one of John after the age of eighteen. It was the picture he'd sent her of him in his dress uniform upon his graduation from the fire academy. John hadn't sent it to their father because he assumed Charles Gage would have no interest in displaying it. Or at least that's what Reah thought. John had never told her why he hadn't sent the picture to their father, and Reah had never asked. She'd simply given it to her dad one day shortly after it arrived. Chad barely glanced at the picture before tossing it on the kitchen counter top like he would a piece of junk mail. Therefore, Reah was surprised the next time she was in her father's home and found it displayed on the great room wall. She'd often thought of telling John whom she'd given the picture to, and where it was hanging, but knowing John that news would only cause a lull in their conversation before he changed the subject.

        Reah moved on to the bedrooms at the back of the house. Everything was in order as she'd expected it to be. She paused for a moment in the room that belonged to her father. There was a wall with pictures in here, too. Pictures her father found too painful to publicly display for various reasons. There was the picture of him and their mother on their wedding day. There was nothing fancy about it. After all, he was an Indian man marrying a white woman in May of 1938. Not exactly a time when the mixing of these two races was accepted in this part of Montana. Not that the mixing of such races was completely accepted now, but Reah could see small strides in that area and had a feeling that by the turn of the century most people wouldn't bat an eyelash at the notion of a mixed marriage in any form.

        The twins had been born between Reah and John. Two identical little girls. Reah was three when they came and not quite four when they died. She didn't really remember anything about them. Layne and Lorelei had been their English names. Alawa and Alaka had been their names in Waupun, literally meaning two from one.

        Layne had gotten sick first with a severe viral infection that had been going around the reservation that winter of 1943. Lorelei began coughing and running a temperature two days later. Reah's maternal grandfather was an old fashioned family doctor of the likes you rarely saw any longer. Once a week he paid a visit to the reservation, often bringing along his daughter, which explains how the romance between Laurel Hamilton and Chad Gage ensued. But because their off spring were half Indian the local hospital wouldn't admit the girls. Not even Reah's grandfather could get those rules changed. He put every once of his knowledge into saving his nine month old granddaughters, but without the care a hospital could provide the girls didn't make it. Reah was certain that was the day her father decided he had a place in tribal politics. That in order for things to change, in order for the white man's world to view the Indian in a different light, an Indian had to take a step forward and make a difference.

        John's birth three years after the death of the twins had been extra special for her parents. That he was a boy brought their father even further delight. Reah smiled as she recalled her little brother and his many escapades. Always on the move. Always laughing. Always teasing. Always smiling. Always jabbering on about whatever came to his mind, and fearless when it came to doing anything from scrambling up a tree to getting on the back of a moody horse. One hundred percent boy and then some, as Grandpa Hamilton used to say about John. And no doubt spoiled as hell by both Reah and her parents, but not spoiled in a bad way. Not in a way that made him a demanding brat or callus towards the feelings of others, but simply spoiled with love. Reah didn't think that was such a bad thing. She didn't think any child could ever really be loved too much.

        Her eyes drifted to the last picture on the wall. Kim and Jessie. She had the exact same picture on a wall in her home. Sometimes it hurt so much to remember, but at the same time it also hurt to forget. Reah might not have fully believed the latter if she hadn't witnessed it with her own eyes. Isn't that what John had done all these years? Tried to forget? Even pretended like he had forgotten?

        I bet you don't have any pictures of them in your home, little brother. I bet none of your friends,....whomever your friends are now, even know about them.

        Reah shook her head to clear it of that fateful night. Admittedly she didn't want to remember the aftermath of the carnage any more than John did.

        But forgetting that, as opposed to trying to wipe Kim and Jessie from your memory, are two very different things John Roderick Gage.

        With one final lingering glance at the pictures Reah shut her father's bedroom light off and moved on. She stopped in the doorway of the room that had been hers, and then stepped across the hall to John's old bedroom.

        Nothing in either of these places except good memories, she smiled as she retraced her steps to the front of the house. The nurse picked up her pace as the phone began to ring again. She glanced at the kitchen clock as she passed to see it was quarter to eleven.

        Who would be calling Dad at this late hour anyway?

        "Hello?"

        The voice on the other end hesitated a moment, as if the caller wasn't expecting a woman to answer the phone.

        "Hello. Is this the Charles Gage residence?"

        "Yes, it is."

        "Can I speak to Mr. Gage please."

        "I'm sorry, but he's out of town for the next ten days. This is his daughter. May I take a message?"

        "His daughter? Johnny's sister?"

        Though Reah wasn't used to hearing her sibling referred to as Johnny, he'd always been called either John or Katori, or on occasion by the nickname Trip, she assumed the caller meant her brother.

        "Yes. I'm John's sister Reah Gage. May I ask who's calling?"

        For some reason Reah got a sinking feeling in her stomach when once again the man hesitated before making a reply.

        "I...Miss Gage, I'm Hank Stanley. I'm the captain at Station 51 where your brother works."

        Now Reah could hear the man's calm professionalism kick in as though he knew he had to keep any fear or worry out of his tone as he conveyed the reason behind his call.

        "Yes?"

        "I...Miss Gage...I'm sorry to have to inform you of this. Your brother's in the Intensive Care Unit at Rampart General Hospital. He had four hours of surgery late this afternoon in order to--"

        Reah didn't allow Hank Stanley to finish. In her mind she pictured third degree burns, or a broken back as a result of a fall, or missing limbs because of an explosion, or lost eyesight, or multiple fractures that might cripple him for the rest of his life, or one hundred other things that came to mind when a nurse hears the phrase, 'four hours of surgery,' followed by, 'in the Intensive Care Unit.'

        Damn you, John. Damn you! You promised me this would never happen. When you took that job you promised me we'd never get a phone call in the middle of the night with someone on the other end telling us you were hurt. Oh, Trip, how will I ever break the news to Dad?

        Without saying another word Reah severed the connection with Captain Stanley. She ran out of the house, barely remembering to lock the door behind her. She started her pickup truck, gunned the engine, and headed for her paternal grandfather's home on the reservation.

Chapter 23

        
        At the same time Reah Gage was on the phone with Captain Stanley, Roy DeSoto was sitting on the edge of his bed. The paramedic listened to the muted sounds coming from the master bathroom as Joanne washed off her makeup and brushed her teeth. Weariness hung over the man like a heavy cloud, and he decided his wife had the right idea. It was time to call it a night.

        Roy stripped his clothes off and exchanged them for blue pajama bottoms and a clean white T-shirt. He folded the clothes in a neat pile and set them on the bedroom chair. He'd get them to the hamper in the morning.

        Without turning on any lights the paramedic walked back to the bed and folded the quilted spread to the footboard. He fluffed the pillows for both himself and his wife, then idly turned away. Roy was exhausted. He knew he should be climbing into the nest of blankets that waited him, but his nerves were far from ready to allow him to sleep. He walked over to the double window, pushed the curtains apart by a couple inches, and stared up at the full moon.

        Roy heard Joanne's bare feet shuffle across the green and white shag carpeting that lined their bedroom from wall to wall. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him from behind. The blond man basked in the warm comfort of his wife's body before turning to reciprocate the hug. When they broke apart Joanne moved to the bed and slipped in between the sheets. She pulled the blanket to her stomach, then held the covers up for Roy.

        "Are you coming to bed?"

        "Yeah...I guess."

        "Are you hungry? That offer of a sandwich or scrambled eggs still stands."

        "No," Roy shook his head. "No thanks. I'm not...I just don't feel like eating."

         When they'd gotten home at nine o'clock Joanne had given each of the kids a bowl of Cheerios and glass of orange juice. She'd sat at the table with them eating a container of yogurt and a banana. Roy had refused anything at that time, too, saying he wasn't hungry before he'd wandered aimlessly from the kitchen. When Joanne was taking Jennifer upstairs for her bath twenty minutes later she found her husband sitting in the living room in the dark, staring at the far wall.

        "Roy?" Joanne had beckoned. "Roy?"

        "Huh?" Roy turned to his wife and daughter as though just then realizing they were in the room with him. "What?"

        "Can you please see Chris off to bed? His putting his cereal bowl and glass in the dishwasher. He doesn't need a shower, he took one at Johnny's house before we left for the hospital, but he does need to brush his teeth."

        "Sure. Sure, I can do that."

        Roy moved like he was in a daze as he headed for the kitchen to collect his son. Even Jennifer understood the reason behind her father's odd behavior. She looked up at her mother with eyes far older than her nine years.

        "Daddy's really worried about Uncle Johnny, isn't he?"

        "Yes, sweetie, he is." Joanne hid her own worry for her husband's partner by giving her daughter the best smile she could muster. "Come on. Let's get you in the bathtub."

        This was one night Joanne didn't allow any playing in the tub. They were all tired and she just wanted to see this day come to an end.

        The woman lay next to her daughter in Jennifer's twin bed until the little girl fell asleep. They said another prayer together for Johnny, then Jen curled against Joanne's side without a further word. This silence on Jennifer's part was uncharacteristic to the say the least. Usually she chattered away until sleep claimed her.

        Joanne brought her thoughts back to the present. "Roy, come on to bed. Like Doctor Brackett said, you need to rest, too."

        Roy remained standing by the window. When a minute passed and he didn't move Joanne dropped the covers. The full moon was casting enough light in the room that she didn't bother to turn on her bedside lamp.

        "How was Chris?" The woman asked, knowing that Roy had stayed with their son until he fell asleep just like she'd stayed with their daughter.

        "Worried. Upset. He feels guilty that he left Jen and Johnny alone only to have Johnny get attacked again."

        "He made the right choice. And besides, if he'd stayed up on the mountain God only knows what that man might have done to him."

        "I know. I told Chris again that he'd done the right thing. I think...well I think he's just going to have to hear that from us for a while before he finally comes to believe it."

        "I'm sure you're right."

        Roy ran two fingers over the smooth wood of the windowsill. "He's just...Chris is real concerned about Johnny right now, but doesn't know how to talk about his feelings."

        "Sounds like his father," Joanne replied with the smallest of smiles.

        Roy's eyes traveled to his wife for a brief moment. He returned her smile with a half hearted shrug.

        "I guess. Chip off the old block as the expression goes. Anyway, he asked me a lot of questions."

        "Questions?"

        "He wanted to know what Johnny looked like when I saw him in the Recovery Room. What the machines were for that he was hooked up to. If he'd be feeling any pain tonight. Who would be taking care of him. What would happen when he was moved to ICU. Things like that."

        "What'd you tell him?"

        "I told him the truth. I described how Johnny looked. I told him what the various IV's are for, what the machines monitor, what the ventilator does, what the drainage tubes do, the whole shot. Hell, I even explained about the function of the Foley catheter. I figured after all he's been through, after the maturity he displayed ever since Johnny was first injured and Chris had to run off into the night with Jennifer, it would be a disservice to sugar coat my answers."

        "He's a smart kid," Joanne agreed. "And almost twelve years old. You're right, you'd be doing him a disservice if you didn't tell him the truth. At least this way,....well at least this way maybe he'll be somewhat prepared if things,...if things don't turn out the way we hope."

        Roy looked out at the moon. "To tell you the truth, babe, I don't think he'll be anymore prepared than I will be. He said he wished Johnny could have come home with us tonight. Or that Doctor Brackett would have let me stay with him."

        "Why?"

        Roy turned toward his wife.

        "Chris doesn't want him to be scared, Jo. He's worried about the same things I am. That Johnny will wake up and not know where he is. Or that he'll wake up and think Jennifer has been hurt. Or wake up in pain and no one will be there to help him."

        "Honey, come on. You always say Rampart has the best staff of any hospital in the area. And to top it off almost everybody there knows and loves Johnny. He'll be treated like a king. Heck, he'll be so spoiled when he gets out of there he'll spend the first week at home looking around for a pretty nurse to wait on him hand and foot."

Roy chuckled. "I suppose you're right. Doc Brackett pretty much said the same thing."

        "Speaking of Doctor Brackett, he told me the kids will probably have nightmares for a while."

        Roy nodded but made no reply. If there was anything he could do to spare his children further terror he would. He'd have the damn nightmares himself if that was possible in order to keep Jennifer and Chris from experiencing them.

        "He also gave me the name of the child psychologist who's on staff with the hospital. He thinks it's a good idea for the kids to have a few sessions with him."

        Joanne watched her husband with wary eyes, not really sure how he'd react to this news. Like many men, he didn't put much stock in any form of therapy. She was surprised, then, when he voiced his agreement.

        "Whatever Doc Brackett advises I'll go along with."

        Joanne's surprise was plain to hear. "You will?"

        "Yeah. God knows of all the things I imagined us facing as our kids grew older this sure as hell wasn't one of them."

        "I'll call the psychologist tomorrow then to see when I can make an appointment."

        Again Roy nodded without making a reply. Joanne was just about to urge her husband to bed once more, when the moonlight coming through the window allowed her to see the silent tears running down Roy's face. She started to throw back the covers. Roy held up a hand, indicating that he didn't want her to approach him.

        "Roy? Honey?"

        Roy could barely find his voice. "He...he was stabbed five times, Jo. Five times. Yet despite the pain, and the shock, and the blood loss, our kids were his only priority. He didn't care about himself. I know John Gage better than I know myself sometimes. He laid up there on that mountain and never fretted over whether he'd live or die. All he cared about was keeping Jen and Chris safe. For God sake he told Jennifer he couldn't face me if something happened to her. Couldn't face me! Did he really think I'd blame him? That I'd take my grief and anger out on him because some nut barged into their camp at midnight intent on doing God knows what to our little girl?"

        "No, honey, I'm sure he didn't really think that. Or at least it's not something he would think under normal circumstances."

        "I just...I just don't want him laying in that hospital bed tonight worrying that I'm mad at him."

        "Honey, he's not. I'm sure he's not. But if we have to tell him that we're not angry with him...that we never could be angry with him for doing nothing more than trying to keep our kids out of some mad man's hands, then every time we see Johnny we will tell him that until he's convinced it's the truth."

        Roy swallowed hard as his mind's eye traveled back to the mountain.

        "How he ever survived that second attack is beyond me. He...he was just letting that man beat him and beat him and beat him when I got there. He didn't have the strength to do more than that. I remember wondering where Jennifer was while at the same time thinking I had to pull the guy off Johnny. I heard the guy screaming, "Where's the girl? Where's the girl?" and Johnny never made a sound. Not one sound. Then the guy saw me and took off running. Johnny collapsed after that, and Jenny popped out from underneath him. He...he was hiding her, Joanne. He had positioned himself on his hands and knees so she was under him. Between that, and the blankets draped over his back that were hanging to the ground, you couldn't see her. It was the only way he had left to protect her. He let that guy pound on him with that damn club because it was the only way he had left to protect Jenny. It was the only way he could keep our daughter safe. And he did it willingly, while all along knowing he was probably going to die."

        Joanne slipped out of bed. Though she'd heard both Roy and Jennifer tell Mark Bellmen about these events, hearing the stark emotion in Roy's voice as he told of them again caused the woman's heart to break. She'd only seen Roy cry twice since she'd married him, on the day each of their children were born. And even at that the tears had never done more than well up in his eyes. They'd certainly never overflowed to run down his cheeks and splash onto his T-shirt, which was happening now as Roy's worry for his partner and best friend was released.

        The woman forced her husband to turn around. She hugged him as tight as she could. She felt his tears trickle into her hair. She rubbed a hand up and down his back as she soothed, "Johnny will be okay. He'll be okay, Roy. I know he'll be okay."

        As Joanne continued to hold her crying husband she hoped she wasn't making him a promise that wouldn't come to pass. She couldn't imagine their world without Johnny in it anymore than Roy could. That thought alone made her want to cry with her husband, but she forced herself to keep her tears at bay. She was a fireman's wife. Joanne had learned long ago that meant she had to be strong for her children and her husband.

        When Roy had no more tears left to cry Joanne convinced him to come to bed with her. When she knew he'd finally dropped off to sleep she turned away from him and allowed her own tears to flow for John Gage.

Chapter 24

        By the time the sun was rising over the Pacific the next morning Evan Crammer was two hundred miles north of Los Angeles. He'd exited Keith's truck in a city of sixty thousand called Bensonville. The first order of business was to procure a motel room. The second was to call his bank in Illinois and have money wired from one of his accounts. Evan had his father to thank for this financial soundness. The old man had made bundles of cash, and had the foresight to invest it wisely. A four million dollar trust fund had become available to Evan when he turned twenty-one. His own sharp mind only made that four million grow. He'd never held a job in his life, though his mother thought he was a consultant for some firm whose name she could never remember. Evan laughed at the thought of how easy it was to fool his mother as he crossed the street to the Western Union Office in order to pick up the money that awaited him there. But then, his mother always had been easily fooled.

        With his wallet fattened once again Evan headed down the street to a used car dealership. Thirty minutes later he pulled out driving a baby blue two door Dodge Dart. He stopped at a hardware store to replenish his supplies. He'd lost everything on that damn mountain, including his knapsack, knife and billy club. The knapsack he replaced with one exactly like it, pale blue and large enough to hold everything from clothes to weapons. The billy club he replaced with a small baseball bat, the size of what you'd start a five year old with. The knife he chose was almost an exact replica of the one he'd stabbed John Gage with.

        Evan's last stop was at the local Kmart. The purchase of a navy shirt, navy pants, tie, and kid's toy badge would once again allow him to fool his young victims into believing he was a cop.

        With his purchases in their bags on the seat beside him, Evan began to cruise the town. He liked this city. He liked it a lot. It was just the right size.
Not too big and not too small. He saw a little blond girl skipping rope on the sidewalk in front of her home and waited for the familiar rush of excitement to swell his groin. When that didn't happen he frowned. He wondered if the events that occurred in Los Angeles were still effecting him. He shook his head, trying to clear Jennifer and her damn Uncle Johnny from his mind.

        Forget about them. Concentrate on where you're at. There's plenty of little girls right here in Bensonville. You're not a failure just because things didn't work out in L.A. You're not a failure.

        Evan kept trying to convince himself of that fact as he slowly drove up down the residential streets of this central California city. Like Mark Bellmen had correctly surmised, Evan had a burning need to be in control at all times. Fury rose within his soul as he thought of dark headed man who took that control away from him.

        Don't think about him. Forget about Uncle Johnny. Things can be good here. Just as good as they would have been there. Things can be good.

        Evan smiled when he saw a girl roller skating by herself in the school yard. It was Monday, so school should be in session, but judging by the desolate grounds that was not the case. For whatever reason the students who attended Brookview Elementary School had the day off.

        The big man didn't even bother with his mock policeman's uniform as he approached Carrie Wrightman from behind. Before the girl knew what was happening she'd been whisked off the ground and thrown into a car. She screamed and cried and kicked, but unlike Jennifer DeSoto, Carrie had no Uncle Johnny to save her.

Chapter 25

        Roy and Joanne kept their children home from school on Monday. Jennifer had awakened the entire household at three that morning when she shot up in bed screaming. Roy was the first to reach his daughter. He flicked on her bedroom light as he ran by the switch. Jen was sitting up in bed with wide, unseeing eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks as she sobbed, "Uncle Johnny! Uncle Johnny!" in a voice so distraught Roy could barely understand her.

        Jennifer collapsed into her father's arms as soon as she felt his weight dip the mattress. At first Roy surmised she was still entrenched in the nightmare. As she clung to him and cried, "Uncle Johnny, Uncle Johnny," Roy assumed her mind was back on the mountain and she thought he was John.

        "Jen...sweetheart...it's Daddy. It's not Uncle Johnny, hon. It's Daddy. We're home, Jennifer. We're in your bedroom. You're safe, sweetheart. You're safe. Daddy's here."

        The girl shook her head against Roy's T-shirt. Her words were so muffled Roy had to listen hard to hear them.

        "Uncle Johnny. I dreamed...oh, Daddy...I dreamed Uncle Johnny died. And that...that...we were at...at his...funeral. I dreamed...you, and Cap, and Chet, and Marco, and Mike carried him...carried him out of the church...and put...put him...on the fire engine...and then...then...Chet handed you his helmet and...and...and...I rode to the graveyard with you in the squad...with Uncle Johnny's helmet...on my lap."

        Roy couldn't help but shudder at the somewhat fragmented, yet accurate description his daughter had just given of the way the Los Angeles Fire Department honored a fallen comrade. Jennifer and Chris had attended a funeral the previous summer for a fireman from Station 110 who had died in the line of duty. They were classmates of the man's children. After much discussion Roy and Joanne decided they were old enough to pay their respects to the family. Now Roy was wishing he'd spared his kids that ceremony. Jennifer's cries had woken Chris. He stood in the doorway, wrapped in his mother's arms, looking just as pale and frightened as his sister.

        The paramedic brought one hand up to his daughter's head. He held her against his chest while rocking back and forth.

        "Shhh. Shhh. Don't cry, sweetie. Don't cry. Uncle Johnny's all right. He's fine. It was just a bad dream. Nothing more than a bad dream."

        Jennifer lifted her face from Roy's chest. Her eyes were red from crying and she was in bad need of a Kleenex.

        "Are you sure, Daddy? Are you sure Uncle Johnny's all right?"

        "Yes, I'm sure. Doctor Brackett promised me he'd call if there was any change at all in Uncle Johnny's condition. He hasn't called, honey. No one's called."

        "So that means Uncle Johnny is getting better?"

        Roy was caught in Jennifer's trusting gaze while at the same time he could feel Chris's eyes on him, too. He looked at his son a moment, then back at his daughter.

        "I'm not going to lie to you or your brother. At this time what it means is that Uncle Johnny hasn't gotten any worse. As far as better goes...it might take a while before Doctor Brackett can give us that news."

        "Because Uncle Johnny was hurt so bad," Jennifer guessed.

        "Yes," Roy quietly agreed. "Because Uncle Johnny was hurt so bad."

        Jennifer placed her hands on either side of Roy's face. "Don't be sad, Daddy. I only had a bad dream. It wasn't real. Uncle Johnny's not gonna die."

        Roy had no reply for his child. Maybe she was right, or maybe she was wrong. If nothing else Roy longed for her optimism. An innocent optimism that poignantly made him think of his gravely ill partner.

        Joanne took charge of the situation then. She ushered Jennifer into the bathroom, washed her face and made her blow her nose. How the entire family ended up in Roy and Joanne's bed shortly thereafter the paramedic wasn't sure. He couldn't remember if one of the kids asked to sleep with them, or if Joanne suggested it. Either way was okay with Roy. He knew the details of Jennifer's dream had shaken them all.

        The DeSoto family arrived at Rampart Hospital at two forty-five that afternoon. Thanks to Doctor Brackett's influence, the kids had a three o'clock appointment with the on-staff child psychologist, Peter St. Claire. Roy had attempted to contact Brackett several times that morning to get an update on Johnny, but was never able to get a hold of the busy doctor. Therefore he had to be satisfied with the information the nursing supervisor on the ICU floor gave him which was nothing more than, "He's holding his own, Mr. DeSoto."

        Chris and Jennifer played with the many toys in Doctor St. Clair's waiting room while their parents met with the man alone. Once the adults had discussed the details of the weekend's trauma the doctor was ready to see the DeSoto children. Joanne took a seat in the empty waiting room. When she was settled she pulled a book out of her purse. She looked up, not surprised to find her husband still standing.

        "If you don't mind I think I'll go up and see Johnny. I'd like to find Doc Brackett as well."

        "I don't mind. You go ahead. The kids and I will meet you in the waiting area outside the ICU."

        Roy bent and kissed his wife on the cheek. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

        "Thanks. I don't know how I'd get through this without you."

        Before Joanne could respond her husband was gone.

        Roy stepped off the elevator on the sixth floor. He walked the long corridor toward the distant double doors that contained a red sign declaring in bold print; Intensive Care Unit. Please Use The Phone To Your Right To Call The Nurse's Station Before Entering.

        Roy passed offices and the waiting area, taking little notice of anyone until he spotted Mark Bellmen speaking to a uniformed man. Kelly Brackett stood next to the detective. He gave a quiet, "Hi, Roy," in greeting as the paramedic approached.

        Roy was surprised to see that the young man who was posted outside the ICU was not one of the hospital security guards, but rather a Los Angeles police officer.

        They must really be worried Johnny's attacker will show back up, Roy thought, as further dread crept through his system. I wonder if they've found something out?

        Mark Bellmen seemed to read Roy's thoughts. When his brief conversation with the rookie cop came to an end he held out his hand to the paramedic.

        "Roy. Nice to see you again."

        "Detective," Roy nodded. When their handshake came to an end Roy asked, "Any news on the guy?"

        "No. No news. No sightings. No nothing. As I said yesterday afternoon, the likelihood that he's still in the area is slim, but of course we don't want to take any chances at this point. I've asked Doctor Brackett to inform the nurses not to release any information about John to anyone who might inquire by phone other than those people specified by him."

        Kelly smiled and answered Roy's next question before he could ask it.

        "Don't worry, Roy, you're on the list. As are the all the guys on 51's A-Shift. If you can think of any other friends of Johnny's we should add just let me know. We'll stop at the nurse's station on our way out."

        "That'll be fine," Roy agreed as the names of several of Johnny's friends immediately came to mind. That thought also reminded the paramedic that he had some phone calls to make this evening on his partner's behalf. Brackett's voice interrupted Roy's musing.

        "By the way, has anyone made contact with his family?"

        "I don't know. Cap was going to try when he got home last night. I haven't talked to him today. I can give him a call in a little while."

        "I think that would be a good idea. Johnny's family...they need to be here."

        Roy sensed an uncharacteristic urgency to Brackett's tone. Before he could ask Kelly any questions the doctor pushed the ICU doors open.

        John's room was directly across from the centrally located nurse's station, which indicated to Roy how closely he was being monitored. None of the rooms on the ICU floor contained doors making for quick and easy access for the medical staff. Most of the patients who spent time here were too out of it to worry about privacy anyway. When privacy was needed a curtain could be pulled across the doorway. Which is exactly what Kelly Brackett did when he, Roy, and Bellmen arrived at Johnny's side.

        Roy might have been confused by Brackett's actions had he not noticed the camera hanging around Mark's neck. He recalled the detective telling Dixie the previous afternoon that he'd need pictures of Johnny's injuries in the event his attacker was caught and the case went to court.

        John was lying just as he had been in the Recovery Room the previous evening, on his left side with pillows propped against his back. He'd been given a sponge bath and a hair washing, but for some reason Roy thought he looked worse. His eyes traveled across the bed and met Doctor Brackett's. Kelly nodded.

        "He's starting to spike a temp on us. That fact doesn't make me happy, but I can't say I'm surprised."

        "Will he be able to fight the infection off?"

        Kelly kept his voice low when he said, "I hope so. I'm doing everything in my power to help him, Roy."

        "I know."

        Doctor Brackett tried to rouse Johnny. Like he'd done the previous evening, he put a hand on the paramedic's blanket covered thigh.

        "Johnny? John? Can you wake up for me? Johnny, I need to talk to you for a minute." When Kelly got no response he tried the trick that had worked the night before. "John, Roy's here to see you. Come on, Johnny, wake up for your partner."

        Johnny still didn't respond. Kelly waved Roy over. The blond paramedic took his turn at urging his friend to consciousness, but Johnny would have no part of it.
        The doctor gave a heavy sigh. "He's been like this ever since we moved him here."

        "Been like what?" Roy asked.

        "More or less unresponsive."

        "But you have him sedated. Wouldn't that account for it?"

        "To some degree, but not completely. He's been alternating between agitation and this. When he gets upset we assure him Jennifer's all right and that he, as well, is safe. That calms him down for a while, then he starts all over again. I've changed his mediation twice now since last night, but I can't seem to get him to completely relax the way I want him to. After you left he started bleeding again from those wounds on his back. I repacked them and got it stopped, nonetheless his body didn't need the additional stress."

        The deep frown Kelly wore never left his face as he checked his patient. Finally he looked across the bed at Mark Bellmen.

        "As long as Roy's here to help me, let's get this over with."

         The detective nodded as he stepped around the bed.

        "I'll start with the easy stuff. Gentlemen, if you'll move back for me."

        Roy and Kelly relinquished their places by the head of Johnny's bed. Being mindful of the equipment Mark began snapping pictures of the injured paramedic. His first shots were close ups of Johnny's face. If this case made it to court he wanted the jury to see that a ventilator was being used to force air into John Gage's lungs. The next shots encompassed the sling that held John's right arm against his chest, and the following ones were of the cast that ran from just below his left elbow to his knuckles. When the detective moved to the other side of the
bed Doctor Brackett followed.

        "Roy, stay right there. I'm going to untie Johnny's gown and remove these bandages for Detective Bellmen. Then you and I are going to roll him a little further onto his left side."

        Roy nodded. As he watched Brackett untie the thin gown so Bellmen could take pictures of Johnny's mangled back Roy felt like his partner was being violated all over again. He hated that they were doing this without John's permission, even though the practical part of him knew Johnny would give permission if it meant these pictures might someday put the attempted kidnapper in prison.

        Out of respect for his friend's dignity Roy made certain the blanket stayed in place at Johnny's waist while Brackett opened his gown. Even a detective as seasoned as Mark Bellmen couldn't keep the shock out of his voice when the bandages were carefully removed.

        "Jesus!"

        Without disturbing any equipment or the IV's, Roy leaned over his partner's body. The long rows of black stitches on John's upper and low back didn't shock him the way they did Bellmen, but he had to agree they weren't a pretty sight. The skin around the stitches was red and angry, looking like it was just daring anyone to disturb them. The billy club had left its mark as well. Bruises in three shades of blue, and in sizes that ranged from the circumference of a quarter to the length of the lower half of Roy's arm, marred every area that hadn't been crossed by the stitches.

        The detective shook his head in disgust at what had been done to John Gage. A long moment passed before he placed the camera at his eye and said, "Okay, I'm ready."

        Brackett looked at Roy. "Roy, put one hand on his thigh and the other on his chest under the sling. Detective, I don't want to move him any more than necessary, so please be quick about this."

        "Yes, Doctor."

        "Okay, Roy. Gently. Very gently."

        Again Roy was mindful of everything going into and out of John Gage's body. He saw Johnny's eyebrows furrow as he registered the pain this movement was causing him.

        "We're hurting him," the paramedic announced.

        "Hurry it up, Detective," Brackett urged.

        Bellmen didn't respond, but Roy thought the shutter on his camera clicked at a quicker pace than it had been.

        "It's okay, Johnny," Roy told his partner, not wanting Johnny to think he was being hurt by his attacker again. "It's okay. I'm here with you. So is Doctor Brackett."
        If Roy's words registered with Johnny he didn't show it. The blond headed man was relieved when Bellmen said, "All right. I got what I need."

        Roy and Kelly carefully returned Johnny to the position he had been in. As mindful of Johnny's dignity as Roy had been, Doctor Brackett lifted the blanket away from the paramedic's right calf rather than pull it down from his waist. He removed the bandages and stepped back so Bellmen could get the pictures he needed. The last set of pictures were of John's injured biceps. Brackett unsnapped his sling and once again removed bandages.

        When Mark Bellmen had gotten all the pictures he needed Roy assisted Doctor Brackett in rebandaging Johnny's wounds. It was Roy who retied his partner's gown when they were finished, and Roy who pulled the blanket up to his chest.

        Brackett pulled the curtain back and led the men from the room.

        The doctor and Mark Bellmen had met in Kelly Brackett's office prior to their trip to ICU. The answers to all the questions he had asked the doctor about John Gage's injuries had been recorded in the same small notebook he'd used the previous day when talking to Chris and Jennifer.

        Mark held his hand out to Kelly. "Doctor Brackett, thank you for your time."

        "You can thank me by catching the guy who put one of my best paramedics in the hospital."

        "Believe me, Doctor, I want nothing more than to do just that."

        Brackett turned his attention to Roy as the trio walked toward the double doors.

        "How are Chris and Jennifer doing?"

        Roy shrugged his shoulders.

        "They're holding up, I guess. They're both really worried about Johnny. Jen woke up screaming from a nightmare about three this morning. She had dreamed John died and she was at his funeral. Joanne's with them down in Doctor St. Clair's office right now. By the way, thanks for the referral."
        
        "No problem. I wanted him to see the kids as soon as possible."

        Roy wasn't surprised to see Hank Stanley and the rest of the Station 51 A-shift in the waiting area when he exited ICU. They were due back to work for a three day stint tomorrow. The men no doubt knew this might be their last chance to see Johnny for a few days.

        Detective Bellmen said a round of final good-byes, then headed for the elevator. As Doctor Brackett and Roy arrived at the waiting area Hank Stanley stood to plead his crews' case.

        "Doc, I know only immediate family is usually allowed to visit a patient in ICU, but..."

        "Hank, I think you and your men qualify as immediate family," Brackett smiled. "Or at least I'm certain that's what Johnny would tell me. Go ahead. But two at a time please, and limit your visits to ten minutes. I'm not sure if he can hear us or not, but tell him you're there. Knowing he has your support can only help."

        The men nodded. Hank looked at Mike and Marco.

        "Why don't you two go see him first. Chet and I will go in when you get back."

        As the two firemen walked toward the ICU doors Doctor Brackett looked at Hank.

        "Did you get in touch with Johnny's family?"

        "I think so."

        "Pardon me?"

        "I called his father's house last night. A woman answered the phone who identified herself as John's sister Reah."

        When Hank and Doctor Brackett looked at Roy all the man could do was shrug.

        "Like I said yesterday, Johnny doesn't talk about his family much. I know his mother died suddenly of a brain aneurysm ten years ago or so. And I know his paternal grandfather is still living. But to tell you the truth for as talkative as Johnny is, this is one subject he avoids. I've always assumed he and his father are estranged, but why I have no idea. And as far as brothers and sisters go...well, he's just never mentioned any. Up until right now I thought he was an only child."

        Brackett was as confused as everyone else by this information. He couldn't imagine the gregarious and kind-hearted John Gage being estranged from anyone, let alone his own family. He looked at Hank.

        "So what did Johnny's sister say?"

        "When I asked to speak to John's father she told me the man is out of town for the next ten days. I was in the process of telling her Johnny had just gotten out of surgery when the line went dead. I'm still not sure if she hung up on me or if we got disconnected for some reason. I've been trying to call back on and off ever since that time, which has been close to eighteen hours now, but I have yet to reach anyone again."

        Kelly Brackett chewed on his lower lip. He wondered what the story was behind this situation Johnny obviously wanted to keep private. Knowing that none of the men present had any more answers than he did caused him to say, "Well, I hope someone from his family contacts us. But if they don't, Johnny's got plenty of people right here in L.A. who care about him."
        
        Brackett smiled. "And here comes one of those people now."

        Roy turned to see Jennifer running ahead of Joanne and Chris. She grabbed Roy's hand while looking up at the physician.

        "How's Uncle Johnny, Doctor Brackett?"

        The man waited for Chris to join his sister before crouching down on his knees. "Johnny's hanging on, kids."

        Chris frowned. At age eleven and a half he was old enough to realize when an adult's words were conveying no information.

        "Is he better than he was when my dad brought him in yesterday?"

        Brackett had to his smile at the boy's persistence. He looked up at Joanne and Roy. They both nodded their heads, indicating for the doctor to be honest with the children.

        "No, Chris. He's not any better."

        "What about worse? Is he worse?"

        "He's running a fever. But as I told your dad, I expected that. It's not unusual when someone's been stabbed. We don't know how dirty that knife was, or what germs might have worked their way into the wounds while Johnny was on the ground waiting for help to arrive."

        "So what are you doing for him?"

        "Christopher," Joanne scolded. "Don't give Doctor Brackett the third degree."

        The boy turned to look at his mother. "But Doctor St. Clair said me and Jen should ask whatever questions we have. So these are my questions."

        "Don't worry about it, Joanne," Kelly said. "Chris is right. He should be allowed to ask whatever questions he has, and he should get honest answers."

        Brackett took each of the children by a hand.

         "Kids, I'm doing everything I can for your Uncle Johnny. So is every nurse and doctor who's been assigned to him. Right now we're trying to get his temperature down while at the same time keeping him sedated."

        "My dad said you do that so he won't feel any pain."

        "That's right, Chris. Johnny's body needs a chance to heal. The only way it can do so is if he's kept quiet and is allowed plenty of rest. If he feels the pain then it interrupts the sleep he needs. As well, the sedation keeps him from fighting the ventilator."

        "That's the machine that helps him breathe?"

        "Yes. But the tube that goes down his throat is uncomfortable. And most patients don't like the feeling of a machine forcing air into their lungs. So if we have to use the ventilator we give the patient a sedative in order to keep them calm."

        "When can the tube come out of his throat?"

        "When he's a little stronger. Maybe in a few days. We'll just have to see."

        Chris's eyes shifted to Roy. "Did you get to see Uncle Johnny? Did he talk to you?"

        "Yes, I saw Uncle Johnny. But no, he didn't talk to me. Like Doctor Brackett said, he's sedated. Asleep. And even if he was awake he wouldn't have been able to talk because of the ventilator. The tube in his throat would prevent it."

        Chris didn't like what he was hearing. It sounded as though Uncle Johnny was a prisoner in his own body. Chris knew he wouldn't want to be in a hospital bed, hooked to all the machines and IV's his father told him about last night, and then not to be able to talk either.

        "What if Uncle Johnny needs something? What if he starts to feel the pain and needs more medicine? What if he gets scared and just wants someone with him? How's he gonna let anyone know that?"

        Doctor Brackett attempted to calm the boy who was growing increasingly upset.

        "Chris, like your father and I already said, Johnny spends most of his time asleep. As for if he needs something when he is awake, the nurses in ICU are excellent at figuring out what a patient who can't talk wants. Most of them are friends of your Uncle Johnny's. They'll know what to do for him, I promise."

        Throughout this whole exchange Jennifer had remained silent, simply absorbing the conversation going on around her. She leaned into Roy's side. The sorrow in her murmured words was plain to hear.

        "I wish Uncle Johnny could come home with us right now this very minute. I'd know what to do for him even if he couldn't talk. I know he likes chocolate ice cream best, and Mom's brownies, and ham sandwiches, and milk. He loves milk. White milk, but it's gotta be cold. Really cold. And hamburgers, and hot dogs, and pizza, and baseball. He likes to watch the Dodgers play. And he likes to wear blue jeans, but they gotta be Wranglers. His favorite magazines are Wheels and Gears and The American Quarter Horse. And I know he likes to read the newspaper from front to back, but he always reads the comics first no matter what. Peanuts makes him laugh out loud. He likes Snoopy best. Especially when he's fighting the Red Baron. And the stars. Uncle Johnny loves to look up at the stars. He taught me not to be afraid of the dark."

        Doctor Brackett patted the girl's back as he stood.

        "Jennifer, we'll keep praying that your Uncle Johnny can enjoy all those things with you soon. But right now this is the best place for him. All his friends here at Rampart are working very hard to try to make him well again."

        The group's attention focused on Marco and Mike as they walked out the swinging doors and past the young cop. Neither one of them said anything as they claimed seats. Roy could see how shaken up they were, and how hard Marco tried to give Chris and Jennifer a brave smile.

        We should have prepared them for how Johnny looks. They probably had a vague idea, but still...it's different when you're right in there with him.

        Hank and Chet didn't need any preparation. One glance at their colleagues' faces told them what to expect. Captain Stanley turned to Chet. "Come on, Pal, let's go see..."

        Before he could finish Jennifer gave a cry that startled everyone.

        "Gray Wolf! Chris, look! It's Gray Wolf!"

        What or who a Gray Wolf was none of the adults knew. Even Chris looked at his sister with open skepticism. Everyone's eyes followed Jennifer's down the corridor.

        Doctor Brackett placed the slender, dark headed woman of approximately five feet five inches in height to be in her late thirties. The white headed man who walked beside her didn't look to be much over sixty-five, though Kelly had a feeling the elderly gentleman hid his age well and might be as much as ten years older. He was still trim in a way most men of his years weren't. Not even the slightest hint of a potbelly marred his lean frame. He walked tall and straight, with a long, loose stride that was somehow familiar though the doctor didn't know why. The man's hair hung loose several inches beyond his shoulders, one thin section on the right side of his head was marked off in a braid that was intertwined around a strip of rawhide. His features spoke of nothing other than a fullblooded Native American. He wore jeans, cowboy boots, and a blue chambray shirt with a rawhide string of turquoise beads hanging around his neck.

        Before Joanne could stop her Jennifer took off running for the couple.

        "Gray Wolf! You're Gray Wolf! I'd know you anywhere! Uncle Johnny's told me all about you!"

        The elderly man smiled. The first hint of his advanced years came when he carefully crouched down on the knees that were occasionally stiff with arthritis.

        "And you must be Jennifer. You're as pretty as Katori has told me."

        Jennifer's eyes grew wide with wonder. "Uncle Johnny's told you about me?"

        "Many times, little one. Many times. And about your brother, too. Christopher."

        Jennifer turned and pointed to the waiting area. "That's Chris right there. And my mom and daddy. And Doctor Brackett, and Captain Stanley, and Chet, and Marco and Mike. They're all Uncle Johnny's friends."

        The old man's eyes traveled to the strangers ahead of him. "Katori has spoken of them often. I'm glad my grandson has such fine friends." Gray Wolf stood and indicated to Reah. "Jennifer, this is my granddaughter Apani. She's Katori's older sister."

        "Is that your Indian name, like Katori is Uncle Johnny's Indian name?"

        The strong resemblance Reah shared with her brother came through even more clearly when she smiled.

        "Yes, Jennifer, it is. My English name is Reah. You may call me that if you like."

        "What does Apani mean?"

        "It means Butterfly."

        "That's beautiful."

        "Thank you. Jennifer's a beautiful name, too. I thought so from the very first time John mentioned you to me." Reah took the beaming girl by the hand.
"Would you please introduce me and my grandfather to my brother's friends?"

        "Sure. Come on."

        Jennifer led the way to the waiting area. Admittedly, everyone present had to close their gaping mouths. By far this didn't seem like an estranged family. As a matter of fact, based on what Roy just overheard, it sounded as though Johnny had frequent contact with his sister and grandfather.

        After Jennifer had done her duty as hostess, Roy held his hand out to Gray Wolf.

        "It's nice to finally get the opportunity to meet you, Mr. Gage. Johnny's spoken of you on several occasions. It sounds like you were a big influence on him."

        The Indian man shook the offered hand. "Out of ten grandchildren Katori is my only grandson. He and I spent much time together when he was a boy. And please, call me Roderick."

        "Or Gray Wolf," Jennifer added.

        The old man smiled. "Or that, too. Whichever you prefer."

        Roy shook hands with Reah next. "Miss Gage, nice to meet you as well."

        "It's Reah. And thank you. Though I wish the circumstances had been different, I'm glad to finally get to meet you, too, Roy. John's told me so much about you and your family. He really loves your kids." The woman's eyes moved to Joanne. "And he's forever teasing me, telling me he's got a second big sister now who looks out for him in the same way I always did. But then it takes more than one good woman to keep track of my baby brother. The day he started walking was the day I started chasing after him."

        Joanne laughed. "I can just imagine. If Johnny had half as much energy then as he has now you probably never got a chance to sit down."

        "Not on most days. Or so it seemed anyway."

        When the small talk drew to a close Doctor Brackett indicated for the Gages to take a seat on the sofa. He sat on the coffee table in front of them. Everyone else grabbed what seats were available, Chet and Marco taking up residence against a soda machine once again. Chet tried to keep from staring at Reah.

        Geez, Gage's sister is a knock-out. No wonder he never mentioned her. I wouldn't go around advertising any sister of mine if she looked like that. Wonder if she's married? She uses Gage as her last name, but now days that doesn't mean much.

Doctor Brackett's voice interrupted Chet's thoughts, and his search for a wedding ring on Reah's left hand.

        "I hope you don't mind if we hold our discussion regarding Johnny's condition right here. I'm going to need Roy's help, and Jennifer and Chris's as well, to thoroughly explain everything."

        Reah's brows drew together with puzzlement, but she nodded.

        "When Captain Stanley called me I assumed John had been hurt on the job. You know, fighting a fire or while involved in some other type of rescue. But..." the woman looked from Roy's face to those of his children. "I get the feeling that's not the case."

        "No. It's not. So let's start at the beginning." Brackett looked over his shoulder at the paramedic seated behind him with Jennifer in his lap. "Roy?"

        Roy started the story with Johnny volunteering to take his children on a camping trip so he and Joanne could celebrate their anniversary. With occasional input from Chris or Jennifer, the tale of the tragic weekend was told. When Roy came to the part about Johnny hiding Jennifer underneath his body while being beaten with billy club he saw Reah grope for her grandfather's hand. Gray Wolf felt the delicate fingers wrap around his knuckles that were large and weathered from years of outdoor work.

        "No," Reah murmured in Waupun. "No, Grandfather, no. It's too much like last time. Katori...no. He doesn't need this. It's not fair."

        Gray Wolf responded as Reah would have expected. His words were calm and laced with sound advice.

        "Now is not the time to worry about last time, Apani. Let us worry about this time. Let us hear how we can help your brother and my grandson."

        When the quiet conversation between the pair ended Kelly Brackett picked up the story beginning with Johnny's arrival at Rampart. He stopped when he'd finished updating the Gages on John's current condition.

        When the doctor was done Reah began to pepper him with questions. Within seconds Brackett interrupted her.

        "Miss Gage..."

        "Please. It's Reah."

        "Reah, based on the questions you're asking I'd venture to guess you're in the medical profession as well?"

        "Yes. I've got a masters degree in nursing. I'm a nurse/midwife on the Indian Reservation near my home."

        "I see," Brackett nodded.

        Before the doctor could say anything further Reah returned to asking the man questions. This time his answers were more detailed, and filled with more medical jargon than they would have been if Reah hadn't revealed her background.

        When Brackett was finished Reah stood.

        "Is it all right if my grandfather and I see John?"

        "Yes, that's fine. Ten minutes for right now, though."

        Joanne spoke. "When you come back we'll take you to get something to eat. And if you'd like to stay at Johnny's ranch we have a key for his house and keys for his vehicles. Otherwise, you're more than welcome to stay at our home."

        "Thank you for the offer, Mrs. DeSoto," Gray Wolf said. "But neither Apani nor I want to impose on you and your family. Katori's ranch will suit us just fine I'm sure."

        "Call me Joanne," Roy's wife insisted. "If you prefer to stay at Johnny's that's quite all right. I'm sure he'll feel better knowing someone is there. We'll take you to his place after we've eaten."

        "That's not necessary. We arrived here by cab and left our luggage in a locker at the airport. We'll have to return there before going to Katori's home. If you simply give us the keys and directions we'll again call a cab."

        "Taking you to the airport will be no trouble. The two of you go see Johnny and let Roy and me handle the chauffeuring duties."

        The lines around Gray Wolf's eyes creased deeper when he smiled.

        "I always told Katori he had a knack for picking friends. I can see that even in California, he has chosen well."

        "Johnny's been a good friend to us, too," Joanne said. "More times than we can count. When my husband's been sick or injured Johnny's always right there for me and the kids, doing whatever he can to help out."

        There was no mistaking the pride in Gray Wolf's eyes.

        "That's my grandson. He always put others ahead of himself. Even when he stood no higher than my knees."

        Roy watched Doctor Brackett lead Johnny's sister and grandfather toward the ICU as Gray Wolf's words echoed in his head.

        He always put others ahead of himself

        The paramedic found them a fitting tribute to his best friend, but in a very haunting way they also sounded like an epitaph. By the long silence that filled the waiting area, Roy had a feeling his wife and co-workers were having similar thoughts.
        

Chapter 26

        Evan perspired under the mid-afternoon sun as he scooped another shovel full of dirt. He paused a moment and stood up straight. He pulled a red bandanna handkerchief from the back of his pocket. He dabbed the sweat from his brow and wiped at the dampness that was collecting on the bridge of his nose. He looked up through the thick trees. Their vivid green leaves danced in the gentle spring breeze.

        Evan took a deep lung full of April air. He remembered days like this when he was a boy. Days that promised the end of the school year and a long, lazy summer weren't too far around the corner.

        Poor little Carrie, Evan thought as he resumed digging. She'll never again know what a spring day feels like.

        Evan felt no remorse for what he'd done. His thoughts were simply a reflection of the facts. Carrie Wrightman was one of his angels now. He couldn't wait until this job was done and she could be another star on his map.

        The man dug for ten more minutes. He had no fear of getting caught. He was deep in a thick grove of trees, far from the road and forty miles from the schoolyard where he'd kidnapped Carrie. When his labor was finished he leaned the shovel against a tree, then wiped the sweat from his face one last time before walking to the Dodge. He fished his keys from the front pocket of his slacks and opened the trunk. He bent down, scooping up a blanket wrapped bundle.

        It took little effort for the three hundred pound Evan to carry his burden to the grave. The only thing that indicated he was cradling a child against his massive chest were the roller skates hanging from beneath the blanket that had never been removed from Carrie Wrightman's feet.

Chapter 27

        Kelly Brackett indicated for Reah and her grandfather to precede him into Johnny's room. The doctor stopped in the doorway in order to allow them time alone with Johnny without him hovering over their shoulders. He glanced up when Roy joined him.

        "They're looking for you down in the ER," Roy said quietly.

        "Thanks. Do you mind staying here until Reah and Mr. Gage are done?"

        "No."

        "Tell them they can call me any time, with any questions they might have. Otherwise I'm sure I'll run into them over the next few days."

        "I'll tell them."

        "Thanks, Roy."

Roy stood where Brackett had been, in the doorway of Johnny's room. He watched as Reah approached her brother's bedside.

        If Chet had been present he would have immediately noticed there was no wedding ring on the left hand Reah brought up to run through her brother's hair.
Mindful of the medical paraphernalia attached to Johnny she bent close to his ear.

        "John? John, it's Reah. Pacachu and I are here, John. Captain Stanley called Dad's house and I just happened to be there. Dad's in Washington, but we're trying to get in touch with him. I know he'll get here just as soon as he can."

        Reah felt tears well in her eyes as she looked down at her brother's battered form. Reah's thoughts mirrored those Dixie McCall had pondered on Sunday afternoon. That sometimes being a nurse was both a curse and a blessing. Reah's knowledge regarding the severity of John's injuries as described by Doctor Brackett was a double-edged sword. On the one hand it meant seeing him like this was more heartbreaking than frightening, on the other hand it meant she was well aware that losing her baby brother was still a very real possibility.

        Sometimes ignorance is, in fact, bliss.

        Reah felt her grandfather's hands come to rest on her shoulders. While still stroking her left hand through Johnny's hair she used her right to gently clasp the fingers peeking from his sling. She watched his face for any sign of awareness.

        "This isn't how I planned for our reunion to be, little brother. Oh, John, why? Why do you have to be so stubborn? How many times have I asked you to come home? Why in ten years couldn't you have visited at least once? Or let us visit you? How many times have we asked,....no begged, you to let us come see you? All of us. Me, Pacachu, Dad. Oh, John, why?"

        A soft voice interrupted Reah's quiet ranting.

        "Now is not the time to scold, Apani. Now is the time to tell your brother you love him. The past is the past. None of us can relive it, or go back and change decisions that were made as a result of events that were too cruel for Katori to bear. He was young, Apani. Just a young man who had lost so much in so short of a time. Perhaps starting over in a new place, amongst new people, was the only way he knew how to go on living."

        Whether Reah agreed with her grandfather was beside the point. The man was correct about one thing. Now was not the time to scold.

        Reah smoothed John's bangs back from his forehead and placed a kiss on the warm skin.
        
        "I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to get angry. It's not you I'm mad at, little brother. You know me, I just have to blow off steam every so often. I love you, John. We all love you." The tears Reah had been holding at bay now trickled down her cheeks. "I met the guys you work with including Roy. He's a nice man. I'm glad you have such a good friend. He's really worried about you, Trip. So worried. And little Jennifer...well she's just as sweet as you've told me. Chris, too. I can see why you're so crazy about them. They're counting on you to pull through this, John. We're all counting on you."

        Reah gave her brother's fingers a final squeeze. It broke her heart when he didn't squeeze back, or indicate in any way that he knew she was present.

        "I'm going to move out of the way so Pacachu can talk to you for a minute, then we have to go so you can rest. Roy and Joanne are taking us to your ranch. We'll be back to see you tomorrow. I expect you to open your eyes then and talk to me."

        As much as Reah didn't want to, she released Johnny's hand and stepped away from the bed. Gray Wolf took her place. Roy watched as the old man bent over Johnny to talk directly in his ear. What Johnny's grandfather was saying Roy didn't know, he never spoke a word of English, but rather conversed with his grandson in his native language.

        Roy had to admit he was surprised by several things. First of all he never knew Johnny was bilingual to this degree. Or at least he assumed Johnny was bilingual because it wouldn't make much sense for Gray Wolf to speak to him in anything but English if he wasn't. And secondly, this was the first time the paramedic had ever heard of this mysterious incident in Johnny's past that had been spoken of between Reah and Gray Wolf. He wondered what that was about.

        It sounds pretty heavy. What did Gray Wolf say? 'Events that were too cruel for Katori to bear.' What events? And if they had something to do with Johnny leaving Montana why hasn't he ever mentioned them to me?

        Gray Wolf seemed to be able to read Roy's thoughts. Reah preceded her grandfather and headed for the double doors while swiping at the tears on her face. Gray Wolf paused as he passed the paramedic and gave the puzzled man a small smile.

        "It's not my place to speak to Katori's friends of the past. If he has not chosen to tell you, it is not because he doesn't trust you, or value your friendship, Roy, but simply because he still hurts too much here." The man tapped his long, thick fingers against Roy's chest. "Deep in his heart."

        Roy hesitated a moment before finally nodding. There was so much he wanted to ask, but he respected the old man's words and kept his questions to himself. The paramedic cast one last glance at Johnny, then followed Reah and Gray Wolf out of ICU.

____________________________________

        Johnny fought to open his eyes.

        Reah?

        He could swore he'd heard his sister's voice, and then later his grandfather speaking to him in Waupun. He tried to recall their words, but only snatches of conversation came to his drug laden mind.

        Oh, John, why?

        Now is not the time to scold, Apani.

        I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to get angry. I love you. We all love you.

        He felt someone wipe a cold cloth over his face, but he ignored the ministrations. He wanted to talk to his sister. He needed to find out what had happened. He needed to find out why he hurt so bad, and why he couldn't talk, and why it took such effort to open his eyes just a fraction of an inch.

        Reah will know. She's a nurse. She'll tell me what happened.

        The woman recording Johnny's vitals looked up as the ventilator alarm went off.

        Kim! Oh, God, Kim! Kim, no! Jessie! Jessie!

        "Johnny! Johnny, calm down. John, you're all right. You're at Rampart. Johnny, it's Theresa. Theresa Zarletti. Calm down, Johnny. Calm down!"

        The commotion brought another nurse to the doorway. "Do you need my help?"

        "No, just have Doctor Brackett paged stat."

        "All right," the woman responded as she scurried to the nurse's station.

        Johnny tried to focus his thoughts but couldn't. One minute he was entering a house carrying a dark headed little girl in his arms, the next minute he was hiding a blond headed girl under his body.

        Jenny! Jen! Jessie! Jess! No! Please no!

        The girls' faces blurred together to become one in Johnny's mind. He knew they were both dead, and most importantly he knew their deaths were his fault.

        Oh, no! No. Please no!

        Unbeknownst to the medical staff who ran in and out of Johnny Gage's room over the course of the next hour a floodgate had been opened within his mind and long suppressed memories burst forth in one vivid shade.

         Red.

        The color of blood.

Chapter 28

        With the exception of Roy DeSoto, Station 51's A-shift reported for duty on Tuesday morning as expected. By now word of what had happened on the weekend camping trip had traveled through the entire department. The A-shift crew spent more time answering the phone, updating fellow firefighters on Johnny's condition, than they spent getting anything else accomplished. Hank Stanley was actually happy when they were called out to a fire at ten-thirty that morning. At least it took their minds off Johnny for a while.

        Roy and Joanne drove their kids to school that day. Though Mark Bellmen had urged them to keep this event as quiet as possible, he did suggest the school principal know what had occurred so the staff could be vigilant of any strangers that might be hanging around the grounds.

        "Now remember," Joanne cautioned her children as they walked toward the front doors, "not a word to anyone about what happened over the weekend. It's very important that we keep this private for the time being."

        "But what am I gonna tell Mrs. Byron? Daddy said Uncle Johnny won't be well enough to talk to my class on Friday."

        Roy took his daughter's hand. "I'll talk to Mrs. Byron right now."

        "Okay." Jennifer thought a moment, then asked, "Daddy, do you think Gray Wolf would talk to my class?"

        Roy and Joanne shared a smile. There was no doubt Johnny's grandfather was an interesting man. He'd kept the children spell-bound throughout dinner the previous evening. Later, as Joanne and Roy were climbing into bed, Joanne had told her husband she could see where Johnny got his charm from.

        "I don't know, Jen," Roy answered his daughter now. "Gray Wolf's got a lot on his mind right now, but I suppose you could ask him." The paramedic held up a warning finger. "But, if he says no I don't want you to pout or nag. And don't say anything to Mrs. Byron about him yet. For now I'm only going to tell her something's come up and Uncle Johnny can't make it on Friday. There's no point in promising Gray Wolf will speak to your class until you ask him."

        "Okay."

         Mr. Garfield, the principal at Spring Meadows Elementary School, was shocked to hear the tale Joanne and Roy related to him that morning. He assured the DeSotos he'd meet with his staff and make certain everyone understood the need to keep a close eye on Jennifer and Chris.

        Roy hated leaving his kids behind in the school that day, but he knew he had no choice. They were ready to go back. They had said so, and so had Doctor St. Clair. The paramedic had to keep reminding himself of Mark Bellmen's words. That it was doubtful the assailant would return to the area.

        The bastard better not return. If he does I swear I'll kill him with my bare hands.

        Though they both found household projects to get involved in, Roy and Joanne watched the clock that day. It didn't seem like the hands were ever going to reach three, indicating it was time to leave to pick up the kids. In-between his chores and clock watching Roy called the hospital. He finally got to speak directly to Kelly Brackett shortly after one. The look on her husband's face when he hung up the phone told Joanne all she needed to know.

        "Johnny's worse?"

        "He's... yeah, he's going downhill. His temp is one hundred and two.
He's yo-yoing from one extreme to another between being increasingly agitated, to being totally unresponsive. His urine output has dropped, which could be as a result of dehydration from the fever, or...”

        "Or what?" Joanne asked, not liking the ominous tone her husband's voice suddenly possessed.

        "Or a sign of kidney failure. He...his body just won't be able to fight all this, Jo. He's too weak. He's just...too weak."

        "Do you want to go see him? I can pick up the kids by myself."

        "Yeah, I wanna go see him, but I'll wait until we get Chris and Jen. We promised them we'd go to Burger King. There's no use in upsetting them any more than they have been. After we eat I'll drop the three of you off here and then head to the hospital. Brackett said Reah and Mr. Gage are there right now, so at least someone is with him."

        Joanne hugged her husband around the waist. She laid her head against his chest.

        "They're nice people," she said softly. "Johnny's sister and grandfather I mean. I wonder why he never talks about his family? Or why he never goes to visit them? Or why they never come visit him?"

        "I don't know. I..." Roy thought back to what he'd overheard the previous evening. "Remember on Saturday when you told me that you sometimes see sorrow in Johnny's eyes? A sorrow that says he wants to have what we have, but he's afraid to go out and get it for fear it will be taken away from him?"

        "Yes, I remember. You laughed at me."

        "Well, I'm beginning to think I shouldn't have." Roy placed a preoccupied kiss in his wife's hair. "I'm beginning to think you're right."

        Before Joanne could ask her husband what he meant he walked out to the garage.

Chapter 29

        It was eleven o'clock on Tuesday night as Brian Kessler stood over John Gage's hospital bed. He was dressed in blue surgical scrubs with a white mask hanging around his neck.

        Unlike Brian, Johnny no longer had his hospital issued attire. His gown had been removed during one of Doctor Brackett's visits that day. Because of his fever and the increased monitoring the medical staff was doing it had never been put back on him. A sheet and light blanket covered him to mid-stomach, from that point up he was naked.

        "Geez, this poor guy looks like he's on his way out. He'll be lucky to be alive tomorrow."

        "Ssssh." A young nurse put a finger to her lips. "He might be able to hear you."

        "No shit?"

        "Yes. It's not uncommon even though the patient is sedated."

        The newspaper reporter pushed his dishwater blond hair off his face and leaned over the bed.

        "Hey, Mr. Gage? Fireman Gage?"

        "Brian, what are you doing?"

        Brian looked at his girlfriend. She was twenty-one and had only been out of nursing school three months, and employed at Rampart just two.

        "I'd like to ask him a few questions."

        "I already told you he's not responsive. And even if he was, he couldn't talk because of the ventilator."

        "If I manage to wake him up can you unhook it?"

        "Brian! No! That could kill him. Only his doctor can do that."
        "Bummer." The enthusiastic reporter for the Los Angeles Times thought further. "Could he respond by blinking his eyes once for yes and twice for no?"

        "I suppose. I've seen patients do it before."

        "Cool." Brian reached out and shook Johnny's right shoulder. "Hey, dude! Hey, Mr. Gage? Fireman Gage? Wake up there, man."

        Cindy Medford grabbed her boyfriend's arm.

        "Stop it, Brian! You could hurt him."

        "By the looks of it he can't feel a thing."

        "Yes, he can. He has responded to pain on and off since he arrived."

        "So if I shake him hard enough he might wake up?"

        "Don't. You never told me you were going to do this. You said you just wanted to see him. You said if you got a look at him you'd be able to write a better story. So now you've had your look. Let's go."

        "Wait, wait." Brian wriggled out of Cindy's grasp. "Look. He's opening his eyes."

        "Brian, come on. This was a stupid idea. I could lose my job if we get caught."

        "We won't get caught. You said the other nurses are tied up with patients and Sue's on break."

        "Yes, but any one of them could walk in here at any time. Mr. Gage,...they all know him real well. They're always checking on him."

        Brian ignored his girlfriend's pleas. He bent over Johnny once again.

        "Mr. Gage? Mr. Gage, my name's Brian Kessler. I really need to talk to you, Mr. Gage. Can you tell me what happened over the weekend? Can you tell me the name of the little girl the kidnapper tried to take?"

        Cindy watch with horror as the numbers on the heart monitor rose. She'd overheard her colleagues talking and knew Mr. Gage got upset each time someone mentioned the weekend incident in his presence. Cindy had been warned not to bring it up, and had been told to assure the paramedic, 'Jennifer's all right,' if he became agitated, even though the meaning behind that phrase wasn't explained to the young nurse.

        "Brian, please! Stop it. He's getting upset. All we need is for the vent alarm to go off and then we'll really be in trouble."

        "Okay, okay. Just one more thing."

        Brian pulled a camera from under his bulky scrub smock. He aimed it at Johnny's face and snapped three pictures. He scurried around the bed, taking pictures of the paramedic from every angle as he moved.

        "Brian!" Cindy screamed in a strangled whisper. "You can't use those."

        The ambitious reporter smiled as he tucked the camera back under his shirt.

        "Babe, you worry too much, you know that."

        The young man once again tied the mask over the lower portion of his face. This outfit had enabled him to waltz right by the cop who was posted outside the ICU doors with no questions asked. Undoubtedly it would get him back out of ICU just as easily.

        "Look for my article on the front page of tomorrow morning's paper, Cin. It's a sure bet this will get me promoted to Investigative Reporter by the end of the day."

        Cindy looked from her boyfriend to the injured man in the bed. Mr. Gage's eyes were still open, though from their cloudy appearance Cindy doubted if he understood what was going on around him.

        "Brian,...do you really think you should do this?"

        "Do what?"

        "Write the article about Mr. Gage?"

        "Cin, you don't have to call him Mr. Gage. The guy can't be more than ten years older than us, if he's that."

        "It doesn't matter. He deserves the same kind of respect I'd give anyone I haven't been invited to call by their first name."

        "Sheeesh. They really did a number on you in nursing school, didn't they, Miss Goody Two Shoes."

        "Knock it off, Brian. All I'm saying is by writing the article, and taking Mr. Gage's picture without his permission, you're violating his privacy. Maybe you shouldn't be doing that."

        Brian put his hands on his girlfriend's shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze.

        "Look, Cindy, I understand how you feel. I really do. I feel bad for the guy, too. Especially after the story you told me about him protecting that little girl and all, getting stabbed and beaten while keeping that scumbag from taking her. But the cops are wrong. They're shutting us out on this one and that's not right. The only thing that detective...Bellmen was his name, the only thing Bellmen let my editor do was print a small piece that warned the public about a potential kidnapper in the area along with a police artist's sketch of the guy. We were in the dark about what was going on and it frustrated the hell out of Jim. All his sources at the police station are keeping mum. It wasn't until you mentioned Gage over dinner last night that I put two and two together."

        "I wish I'd never said anything," the young woman muttered, now regretting that she'd told her boyfriend about the new patient she'd been assigned and what circumstances brought him to Rampart. "I wish I'd never told you about Mr. Gage."

        "Oh come on, Cin, don't look so glum. This is great! It's the human interest angle that will hook people right from the headline. How many people do you think notice one tiny three paragraph article where the police are warning the public about a kidnapper? Most probably read right over it while they drank their morning coffee. But this," Brian spread an arm toward Johnny. "This is big news. A fireman who's taken some kids camping on his weekend off and ends up being a hero while at the same time he lays in the hospital fighting for his life. Big news, Cindy! Big mother-honking news! Besides, the more people who read it the better chance the cops have of catching the guy who put Gage here in the first place. Think about the children this article might actually save."

        "Well, I guess if you put it that way..." Cindy reluctantly agreed while glancing at her watch. She knew Sue would be returning any moment and the first thing she'd do is come in and check on Mr. Gage. "Go on. Get out of here before Sue gets back."

        Brian kissed Cindy's cheek through his mask. "You're wonderful. I love you. When I get my promotion we'll finally be able to get married. Hell, we might even be able to buy a house."

        "Great. Just go."

        The reporter tweaked his girlfriend's nose, gave her a wink, then hurried out the door. Cindy held her breath until she saw Brian exit the double doors that took him out of ICU.

        She turned back toward the bed. She didn't know how long she'd been staring at Mr. Gage when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped.

        "Sorry, Cindy. Didn't mean to scare you."

        Cindy looked up into Sue's hazel eyes. She forced a smile on her pale face
and shoved her shaking hands into the pockets of her uniform smock.

        "That's okay."

        Sue walked over to Johnny's beside. "How's my favorite patient doing?"

        "Huh...okay. He...his heart rate rose a few minutes ago, but everything's back to normal now."

        Sue frowned as she checked the monitors and IV's. "What happened?"

        "I don't know. He just...he just seemed upset. But I did what Doctor Brackett instructed. I told him Jennifer was okay. He was fine after that."

        "Good." Sue shook her head as she looked down at the paramedic who appeared to be sleeping. "You're really giving us a run for our money this time, Johnny Gage. If you don't start behaving yourself your sister and Dixie McCall are going to move into this room permanently and keep watch over you twenty-four hours a day."

        "His sister?"

        "She's a nurse, too. Flew in from Montana yesterday afternoon. Nice gal, though not nearly as talkative as her little brother."

        "Oh. Well, if you don't need me for anything else I'll take my break now."

        "Sure. Go ahead."

        Cindy was glad to find the nurse's lounge empty. She sank into a chair and closed her eyes. She thought about all the people who seemed to be good friends of Mr. Gage. Dixie McCall, who had taught a class Cindy had taken on triage care. Doctor Early. Doctor Morton. Most of the nursing staff. The formidable Doctor Brackett.

        "Oh, Lord," Cindy muttered as she rocked back and forth suddenly sick to her stomach. In her mind's eye she could see the picture that would run on tomorrow morning's front page.

        "What have I done? What in God's name have I done?"

Chapter 30

        Mike Stoker backed Station 51's engine into her accustomed spot. It was twenty minutes after seven on Wednesday morning. The men had been called out to a small structure fire just as the first rays of light were streaking the sky. The paramedic squad hadn't been summoned at that time, but it was gone now.

        Chet and Marco climbed from their seats in the rear of the engine at the same time Mike and Hank emerged from its cab. The men shuffled to the nearby wall where they hung their turn-out gear and helmets on a row of hooks. One by one their boots fell to the concrete floor with hollow 'plunks.'

        "Looks like Halstead and Maloney got called out," Chet commented as they made their way to the kitchen.

        "Looks that way," Cap agreed.

        Brad Halstead and Salvador Maloney were the paramedics on temporary duty at Station 51. After all that had happened over the weekend Hank had insisted Roy take this shift off, and he'd been backed up on that by the Battalion Chief. Not that Roy put up much of a fuss when Cap gave him the news on Monday afternoon at Rampart. Hank knew Roy wanted to stick close to his children this week, just like any father would want to do given the circumstances. This also gave Roy the opportunity to be at the hospital at a moment's notice should something change with his partner's condition.

        Mike Stoker's voice broke into his Captain's thoughts.

        "I'm on breakfast duty. How does scrambled eggs, sausage and toast sound to everyone?"

        "Fine," Marco replied as he headed to the cabinet where Henry's dog food was kept. He filled the dog's dishes with fresh food and water while Chet and Hank both nodded their agreement to Mike's words.

        Chet pulled out plates and began setting the table while Hank turned for his office.

        "I'm going to call Rampart and get an update on John."

        The men didn't say anything, but Hank saw the shadows that crossed each of their faces. He'd talked to Roy at ten o'clock the previous night. When the phone call came to an end it had been Hank's job to enter the day room and tell his men Johnny had gotten worse rather than better since he'd talked to an ICU nurse that morning. Cap knew none of the veteran A-shift crew slept well that night. He found himself almost envying Brad and Sal as he tossed and turned on his bunk. Yes, as fellow firemen they were affected by the tragedy that had befallen John Gage, but not with the depth of emotional involvement as Station 51's A-shift.

        While Chet set the table his eyes flicked to the glass on Cap's office door. He watched as Hank talked on the phone, and saw a worried frown turn the corners of his mouth down. For reasons Chet couldn't even explain to himself he suddenly felt the need to get out of the building.

        "I'll go see if the paper's here," he announced to no one in particular.

        Marco and Mike exchanged glances as Chet hurried out of the kitchen. Maybe Chet didn't know why he had the sudden urge to be out of the station house, but his friends understood perfectly.

        Marco washed his hands in the sink, then opened a cabinet and reached for the loaf of bread. He put four slices in the toaster while making a quiet observation.

        "Chet's not going to deal with it very well if Johnny doesn't pull through."

        Mike gave a nod as he poured his egg mixture into the warm frying pan. "I know. But then, are any of us?"

        "No, I suppose not. It's only been a couple of days, but the station isn't the same without him. It's too..." Marco paused as he tried to think of the right word.

        "Quiet?" Mike supplied with a small smile.

        "Yeah, that's some of it. Quiet and...I don't know, when Johnny's here he makes all of us laugh. Granted, sometimes not intentionally, but he always has some zany story to tell. Or some off-the-wall idea to share. Or he and Chet are going at one another like a couple of brothers vying for their parents' attention. Or..."

        Before Marco could finish Chet's voice could be heard out in the engine bay.

        "Cap! Hey, Cap!"

        Hank Stanley was just stepping from his office when Chet ran into the kitchen carrying the morning paper.

        "Cap! Cap, you gotta see this! I can't believe some asshole would splash this across the front page of the paper."

        "Whoa there, Kelly, calm down. Splash what across the front page of the paper? What are you talking about?"

        Chet unfolded the paper and turned it around so his co-workers got the full effect of the color picture on the front page.

        Mike's vehement, "Goddammit," was so out of character for him that Chet was momentarily stunned. Whatever Marco said he uttered in Spanish, though by his tone of voice Chet guessed the phrase rivaled Mike's words.

        Unlike his men, Hank Stanley didn't swear. But then he didn't need to. Chet easily recognized the fury shining from his eyes.

        What's the reporter's name on that story, Chet?"

        Chet glanced down at the article's by-line. "Kessler. Brian Kessler."

        Hank turned on one heel and headed for his office.

        "Go ahead and eat without me. I'm calling Chief McConnikee. If I have my way the Fire Department will see Brian Kessler pays for that story and pays dearly."

        For the first time in the six years the A-shift crew had been together, they heard Hank Stanley's door slam so hard it caused the glass to rattle in its pane.

___________________________________

        Jennifer DeSoto opened the front door of her home. She was dressed for school, wearing tan slacks and a red shirt. Her sneakers were red, too, as was the ribbon tied at the base of her pony tail.

        The morning dew that covered the yard soaked into Jennifer's Keds, but she paid no attention to the dampness. The nine year old's mind was on her Uncle Johnny. Jennifer and her brother had been picked up from school the previous day by their parents, then taken to eat at Burger King. Both Jen and Chris had been disappointed when their father wouldn't take them to Rampart after the meal, but rather drove them home. Jen could tell something was wrong. Her father had barely said a word while they ate their meal, and when she asked about Uncle Johnny he simply looked away while her mother answered, "Doctor Brackett's trying his very best to make Uncle Johnny well."

Jennifer was already in bed when her father returned home that night. She heard him talking on the phone to Captain Stanley, though his words were muffled and distant as they drifted to her room from the kitchen. Nonetheless, his tone of voice told Jennifer all she needed to know. Uncle Johnny wasn't getting better. Maybe he was even getting worse. And this morning, at breakfast, her father's face confirmed that suspicion. He smiled at Jen and gave her a kiss like he did every morning when he wasn't away at the fire station, but the dark circles underneath his eyes broadcast both his worry and his fear.

        The little girl knew of few ways to cheer her father up considering the circumstances, but thought it might make him happy if she brought him the morning paper. He liked to read it while he drank his second cup of coffee.

         One of Chris's friends was the DeSotos' paperboy. Jennifer thought Kevin Harper was cute, and had good aim, too. The paper was rolled up neatly and secured with a rubber band. It rested right in the middle of the driveway like it had every morning since Kevin had taken over this route from another neighborhood boy.

        Jennifer bent to pick up the thick paper. She slid the rubber band off one end so she could lay the paper on the table in front of her daddy. The bright colors of the front page photo caught Jennifer's eye. She glanced down at the paper she was carrying, momentarily shocked. When the shock receded tears poured down her face. She let out a heart felt cry of, "Uncle Johnny!" right before running into the house with the paper clutched to her chest.

___________________________________

        By mid-afternoon Dixie McCall wanted nothing more than to swallow two aspirin and curl up on her couch beneath the afghan her grandmother had knitted for her years earlier. She knew what kind of a day it was going to be the minute she unfolded her morning paper. The picture that greeted her there caused her to sink to her knees on her porch as she read the bold headline, A Hero Fights For His Life. It couldn't have been more than five minutes later before her phone started ringing. She never even managed to eat her grapefruit and toast. She left early for work, knowing the entire hospital was going to be in an uproar over the picture that had somehow been taken of Johnny Gage the previous night in the ICU.

        Gossip flew through the halls of Rampart that Wednesday. Dixie caught bits and pieces of it as she went about her work. A reporter had somehow donned hospital scrubs and walked right by the cop posted outside the ICU. A young nurse by the name of Cindy Medford had let the guy into Johnny's room. Cindy had spent all morning in the office of the hospital administrator before being fired and advised to seek legal counsel. In-between all that Dixie caught sight of a harried looking Mark Bellmen hustling in and out of the hospital on four different occasions.

        It was shortly before three o'clock that afternoon when a grim faced Kelly Brackett confirmed the gossip to Roy and Dixie. After Roy dropped his kids off at school and returned Joanne home, he'd come to the hospital where he'd ended up spending the day. His anger over what his daughter had seen on the front page of the paper was no less than Doctor Brackett's.

        "What would make Cindy do such a thing?" Dixie asked now. "I don't know her well, but she was in one of my classes on triage care a few months ago."

        "Brian Kessler...the reporter, is her fiancé," Brackett answered. "Evidently he sweet-talked her into allowing him access to ICU. She claims she's sorry now, but little good that does Johnny. Or the reputation of this hospital."

        "The phones have been ringing off the hook all morning," Dixie said. "If it's not the relative of a patient calling in to make sure their loved one is protected from such an invasion, then its some reporter from papers as far away as New York wanting to interview anyone who's willing to answer questions about the 'Paramedic Of Steel' as Kessler's article referred to Johnny."

        "Oh God," Brackett moaned. "I hope the staff has enough sense to keep their mouths shut."

        "Don't worry, all department heads were sent a memo first thing this morning. We were instructed to tell our employees they were not to talk to anyone about any aspect of this incident."

        "Good. I just hope no one sweetens the pot by waving cash in front of anyone's face."

        "I hope not, too." Dixie looked at Roy. "How are Johnny's grandfather and sister holding up through all this?"

        "Remarkably well. Reah seems to be accepting of it an odd sort of way."

        "Odd sort of way?"

        "Yeah. When I talked to her about it a little while ago she just shrugged and said, 'It's not that much different than the last time. We got through it then, we'll get through it now.'"

        "Hmmm. What do you think that means?"

        "Beats me. And Johnny's grandfather..." Roy smiled. "He's a neat old guy. I don't think anything can rile that man. Johnny sure doesn't get his temper from him. Gray Wolf's words were something to the effect of, 'The people who love Katori are not the ones who will hurt him by talking to reporters out to make a fast dollar. He knows that, so little else matters. A picture in a newspaper is the least of my worries right now.' "

        "In that sense he's correct," Kelly said.

        "Johnny's no better?" Dixie asked.

        "No. He...it's almost like he's given up. Like he's lost his will to live. But why, I don't know."

        "That's not like Johnny," the nurse said. "He'd never give up. He's a fighter. He always has been."

        "I know. But we can't get him to respond to anyone. Not to his sister. Not to his grandfather. Not to Roy. It's like he's purposely cut himself off from..."

        Before Doctor Brackett could finish his sentence the morning newspaper was slapped down on the nurse's station counter in front of Dixie. Johnny's half-open, drug glazed eyes stared up at her.

        A handsome man Dixie guessed to be in his mid-fifties with high cheekbones and sharply defined features stood amongst them. He raked a frustrated hand through the wild mane of coal hair that hung to his shoulder blades. His brown eyes were so dark they were almost black.

        Good grief, not today, Dixie gave an internal moan as the pounding in her head increased. The last thing I need today is some over aged hippie giving me grief.

        Despite her thoughts, the nurse brought forth her most professional tone.

        "May I help you, Sir?"

        "I want to see the administrator!"

        "And your name is?"

        "My name doesn't matter! Look, lady, I already got the run around from the half grown child that sits at your reception desk. No, I don't have an appointment! No, I'm not going to wait until he's free! No, he doesn't need to know my name! The only thing that matters is I wanna see the man and I wanna see him now!"

        Kelly stepped around the nurse's counter. Though the man wasn't much over six feet in height and possessed a thin build, he was wide through the chest and shoulders in a way that spoke of years of manual labor. Brackett caught a glimpse of the thick hands that looked like they could punch a hole in a wall without causing the stranger to flinch and decided it was wise to stay an arm length's away.

        "I'm Doctor Brackett. Perhaps I can help you."

        "Are you the administrator?"

        "No, but..."

        "Then you can't help me."

        "Maybe I can. I'm the head of the ER. And since it's my Emergency Room you're shouting in I think you owe me an explanation."

        The man laid a hand on his chest in a way that was eerily familiar to Roy.

        "I owe you an explanation? I think not, Doctor. As a matter of fact it's you people who owe me an explanation."

        "Us?"

        The man pointed to the paper.

        "I got off an airplane an hour ago only to be greeted by that picture staring at me from every newsstand between LAX and here."

        "Yes...well...we had a rather unfortunate incident occur late last night that..."

        "You're damned right it was an unfortunate incident!"

        Dixie didn't miss the pointing finger that had now begun to tremble with emotion.

        "How would you like to arrive in a strange city on your way to see your critically ill child only to find a picture of him half naked on the front page of the paper!"

        "Johnny's your son?" Kelly asked, immediately realizing how stupid that question sounded. Of course Johnny was this man's son. All you had to do was look at the man's face. Now that Doctor Brackett took the time to notice he realized the resemblance was so strong it was like getting a glimpse of John twenty years in the future. "You're Mr. Gage?"

        "Yes, I'm Charles Gage. Chad. And yes..." the brown eyes drifted to the paper. "John's my son. My boy."

        The anger from moments earlier dissipated as worry took its place.

        "I...I just want to see him. Can I see John? My daughter said...when I spoke to her on the phone last night she said he wasn't doing well."

        "Your daughter's here right now, Mr. Gage. So is your father. I'll take you to them. And along the way I can explain everything about Johnny's condition. I've known your son a long time. Ever since he trained in our paramedic program. I'm his physician...and his friend."

        Chad allowed Doctor Brackett to lead him to the elevator. Dixie folded the paper he'd left laying on the counter and shoved it in the waste basket. She and Roy followed the two men. Dixie couldn't help but smile a little when she said to the paramedic, "Now you know where Johnny gets his temper from."

        "Yeah," Roy returned the smile with a small one of his own. "Now I know."

        And I wonder how many other things I'm going to discover I don't know about a man I thought, up until a couple days ago, I knew so well.

___________________________________

        
        The man ran a hand over the light beard stubble on his broad chin as he stared down at the front page of The San Francisco Daily News. He'd read the article three times, and now sat studying the picture that accompanied it. The words beneath it declared in bold print; Los Angeles Firefighter/Paramedic John Gage Fights For His Life At Rampart General Hospital. Gage Is Nothing Less Than a Modern Day Hero.

        "Modern day hero, huh, John Gage?" The man snickered. "You're no hero Mr. Firefighter/Paramedic. You're nothing but a no good, mangy Redskin dog."

        The big man looked around this dingy room he was renting in a seedy boarding house. The walls that had once been white had long since turned a discolored yellow, as had the moth eaten lace curtains at the dirty window. The smell of cooking grease hung heavy in the room, caused no doubt by some previous tenant who had made use of the hot plate that sat on the ancient maple dresser that long ago had its surfaced marred by carvings made with a jack knife.

        "I'm better than this," he said to no one in particular. "I'm better than this room. I'm better than this life. And it's all because of you, John Gage, that I'm forced to live like this. That I'm forced to run from one city to the next."

        The man stood and crossed to the tiny closet. He pulled his light blue knapsack off the shelf. He walked over to the dresser and pulled open its drawers. With little care given to his packing, he jammed his clothes into the zippered carrier. He picked his shaving kit up off the top of the dresser, then scooped up the newspaper as he headed for the door. He looked down at Johnny's picture as he walked.

        "Unfinished business is such an annoying bitch. It plagues you and plagues you until you're simply forced to do something about it."

Chapter 31

        Roy wasn't sure how long Chad Gage stood beside his son's bed that afternoon, only that it was for far more than the allotted ten minutes and that Chad didn't want to leave when Doctor Brackett finally urged him from the room.

        Gray Wolf and Reah missed Chad's arrival. They were eating a late lunch in the cafeteria when Brackett, Dixie and Roy brought the man to ICU. Johnny's friends watched the bittersweet father and son reunion from the doorway of his room. Charles Gage's thick knuckles and weathered hands spoke of many years of outdoor labor. Despite the hammer that had been swung to build the home Chad raised his children in, and the many cords of wood that had been sawed to keep them warm through the cold Montana winters, those hands were now gentle as one ran through Johnny's hair and the other caressed the right side of his face.

        "John? John, it's Dad. Your dad's here now, John. No one's going to hurt you, son. Dad's here. I'll take care of everything. Trip? Trip, can you hear me? Open your eyes for me. Open your eyes."

        Just like he'd been observing for the past twenty four hours, Doctor Brackett noted that John didn't even attempt to comply with his father's request. There was no movement of his eyes beneath his lids, nor did he try to raise the fingers on his left hand like he had on Sunday night when Roy talked to him in the Recovery Room.

        When Doctor Brackett finally made Chad leave the room the man bent and kissed his son's hot forehead.

        "I'll be back in a little while, Trip. You rest easy."

        As the group walked out of the ICU together Dixie couldn't stop herself from making an inquiry.

        "Mr. Gage, may I ask you a question?"

        "Sure. But only if you call me Chad," the man smiled. "Oh, and I apologize for the fuss I caused earlier. I had no business taking my anger out on you."

        Dixie tried to hide her smile. Johnny's father had his same crooked grin, and charming way with the ladies.

        "Apology accepted."

        "So what was your question?"

        "I just heard you call Johnny by the name of Trip. And I've heard your daughter do the same thing. Is that an Indian name like Katori?"

        Despite his many worries, Chad Gage threw back his head and laughed.

        "No. It's a nickname John earned when he wasn't much more than two years old. That boy didn't believe in walking. Anywhere he wanted to go, he ran like a streak of lightning, as his mother used to say. But like most children that age he wasn't too steady on his feet. At some point I started calling him Trip. As he got older it seemed to fit him even more. John had a knack for getting hurt. If it wasn't a sprained ankle one day it was a broken arm the next."

        "Believe me, Chad, not much has changed," Dixie said. "And when the guys at the station here about this poor Johnny will never live it down."

        "No, he won't," Roy agreed, already picturing how much fun Chet would have with this information should he discover it.

Reah and her grandfather were just returning from lunch when the foursome emerged from the ICU.

        "Dad!"

        Reah ran to her father. They hugged while she tossed questions at him.

        "When did you get here? Why didn't you call? I told you we had John's truck. We could have picked you up. Where's your luggage? Have you eaten? What did..."

        "Whoa! Whoa there, little filly. Slow down. To answer your questions, I've been here about two hours. I didn't call because it was just as easy to rent a car rather than chase you or Pacachu out to the airport. We can return it on the way to John's ranch later this evening. As for my luggage, it's in the trunk of the car. And yes, I ate on the plane."

        The bronze skinned Native American looked from his daughter and father to Doctor Brackett.

        "Now, will someone will please give me all the details regarding John's condition and what brought him here in the first place?"

        "That we can do," Kelly agreed. He extended an arm to the waiting area. "Let's all have a seat. Oh, and Mr. Gage, you have yet to be introduced to Roy DeSoto. This is Johnny's partner."

        Chad shook the hand Roy offered him. "Roy, nice to meet you. John's told me a lot about you."

        Wish I could say the same.

        For lack of a response Roy simply smiled and nodded his head.

        It took twenty minutes for the gathered ensemble to bring Chad Gage up to date. His daughter had given him only brief details on the phone the evening before. Now that he had the whole story a thought was forming in his mind.
A thought that just might give his son the will he needed to go on living.

        "Roy, if Doctor Brackett will allow it, would you let your daughter come see John?"

        "Well...sure. We've already discussed the possibility of both my kids visiting Johnny when he's moved off ICU and into a regular..."

        "No. I mean now. While he's in ICU."

        "Now?"

        "Yes."

        Kelly Brackett shook his head.

        "I don't know. Jennifer's just a child. She's already been through a lot. Roy told me how she reacted to the picture of Johnny in the paper this morning. She was upset. Very upset. I'd rather not put her through that again. Right now it would scare her to see him like he is."

        "I realize that's a possibility. But what if she was prepared, if you and Roy thoroughly explained to her what to expect. It would only have to be for a few minutes. Just long enough for him to hear her voice. Just long enough for Jennifer to assure him that she's all right."

        "But we have been assuring him of that. Every staff member who has been with Johnny since he came in has been assuring him that Jennifer's fine."

        "Maybe so. But it's not the same as hearing it directly from her. For all John knows you could be lying to him."

        Chad sat forward in his chair, his intensity making Dixie think of Johnny Gage when he'd latched onto an idea no one was going to talk him out of.

        "Doctor Brackett, for all intents and purposes my son is a prisoner right now. He can't move. He can't speak. He can't voice his worries or his fears. I know my boy. If he thinks something has happened to his best friend's child, and if he blames himself for that...well then he won't get better. He...he doesn't have the strength to deal with this again."

        "Pardon me? Deal with what again?"

        Chad's eyes flicked to his daughter and father. He caught the subtle shakes of their heads.

        "Nothing. It's...a family matter. Regardless, if you want to help John, you need to consider allowing Jennifer to visit him."

        Kelly turned to Roy. "What do you think? Jennifer's your daughter. Ultimately this is your decision."

        "I'd have to talk to Joanne first...and maybe to Doctor St. Clair, but overall I don't have a strong objection to it. You're right when you say Jennifer's been through a lot, and yeah, that picture this morning did scare her, but only because she wasn't expecting to open the paper and see Johnny staring back up at her. Heck, none of us were. I think if I sit and talk to her, prepare her for the visit, she'll be fine. She's been wanting to see Johnny since the first night he was here. I'm pretty sure she'll do okay. And if she changes her mind at the last minute then that's her choice." Roy looked at Johnny's father. "I won't push my daughter into doing this if she decides she can't, Mr. Gage. Yet Johnny is my best friend. I'll do anything I possibly can to tip the scales in his favor."

        "I know you will," Chad acknowledged. "And I know how much I'm asking of Jennifer. If the prospect of seeing John is too much for her then I'll respect that. As Doctor Brackett said, she's been through enough already. It's not my intention to bring further harm to her."

        The group split up shortly after that. Dixie's shift had ended. She was headed home for her aspirin, a cold glass of orange juice, and the promise of a nap underneath that afghan. Kelly Brackett returned to his office while Roy, too, headed home.

        Roy looked over his shoulder as he walked to the elevator. He saw Chad Gage drop his head into hands, then run his hands through his hair in the exact same way Johnny did when he was frustrated, worried, or tired. He didn't hear what Chad said, but he caught Gray Wolf's response.

        "Sometimes we must travel the same road more than once, Chayton, though none of us knows why. Perhaps, with little Jennifer's help, the return
won't be so painful this time for our Katori."

Once again, Roy found himself wondering what mystery was buried in his partner's past.

___________________________________

        
        John Gage thought he heard his father's voice. He tried to think back to the last time his dad had sounded that broken up. That upset. Was it when his mother died? Or maybe even before that? When Kim and Jessie,..

        Johnny tried to push their faces away. Now he knew why his father was here. He was going to give him bad news, just like he had the last time John had incurred similar injuries and was hospitalized. Roy's face popped into view next. He thought Roy had been in the room with him a few times, but he had to be wrong. Roy couldn't be here. Roy had never been to Montana. John's heart rate sped up as the reasons behind Roy's visit, and his father's visit, began to make sense.

        Jennifer! Jennifer's dead! They're coming to tell me Jenny's dead and it's all my fault! Oh, Lord, not again! Jenny! Not Jenny! Not Roy's baby girl! Oh, please, no! Not Roy's daughter! Not Roy's little girl!

        John didn't know how long he cried out his sorrow in silent, internal tears. He ignored the woman who tried rousing him some minutes later, and was completely oblivious to the damp cloth she used to cool off his feverish body. He didn't deserve to be treated with such care. After all, it because of him that Jennifer DeSoto was dead.
        
        

Chapter 32

        Chris had been really jealous that he couldn't come see Uncle Johnny with Jennifer. Well, jealous and kind of mad, too. He had to stay home with Mom while Jennifer rode with her father to Rampart that evening. Jennifer's daddy had finally appeased Chris by promising he'd ask Doctor Brackett if Chris could visit Uncle Johnny, too. But Jennifer was first. She got to visit Uncle Johnny first, and she didn't plan to let Chris forget that. Not for a long, long time to come.

        It had been easy to be brave in front of Chris, and act like the thought of seeing Uncle Johnny hooked up to all those tubes and machines wasn't scary. It had even been easy to act brave in front of Daddy and Mom. When Jennifer's father had talked to her about this visit after he'd brought her home from school she knew right away that if she showed any fear she wouldn't be allowed to go.

        So Jennifer nodded her head while listening attentively to all her father told her. She acted very grown up and mature. Or so she overheard her mother say later. Now she knew what all those scary looking things were for she'd noticed in the picture this morning. Her father had even explained the function of other pieces of medical equipment that Uncle Johnny was hooked up to that hadn't been in the picture. She thought the Foley catheter sounded like it would hurt, but she didn't giggle about it when her father told her where it went and what it did. She was proud that her parents thought she was grown up enough to understand what the doctors had to do in order to help Uncle Johnny get better.

        Jennifer was at ease as she walked through the familiar corridors of Rampart at her father's side. It wasn't until they exited the elevator on the ICU floor that the first wave of fear hit her. Gray Wolf, Reah, and another man Jennifer guessed to be Uncle Johnny's father, turned to look at her with expectant eyes. Like she had arrived to perform the miracle no one else had been able to accomplish yet.

        What if I don't do good? What if Uncle Johnny doesn't wake up for me?

        Roy looked down in his daughter's face. He seemed to be able to read her thoughts. He gave the hand he was holding a light squeeze.

        "You'll do fine, honey. No expects anything of you other than for you to let Uncle Johnny know you're okay. Remember, just like we talked at home. We don't know if hearing your voice will help or not. If it doesn't, that's not your fault. That just means that Uncle Johnny is too sick to know you're in the room with him."

        "I love Uncle Johnny, Daddy. I wanna do whatever I can to help him."

        "I know you do, Jen. We all want to help Uncle Johnny. But it's no one's fault if our help isn't enough. You understand that, don't you? I don't want you to blame yourself if things don't turn out the way we hope."

        "I know. I won't."

        I hope not, Roy thought. I hope I'm not making a mistake by letting her do this. God knows I don't want her to go through the rest of her life thinking she failed Johnny if he doesn't pull through.

        Jennifer was introduced to Chad Gage while they waited for Doctor Brackett to arrive. With her typical honesty the girl said, "You smile like Uncle Johnny. And you have his eyes, too."

        Chad laughed. Again, he put his hand to his chest mimicking the gesture Johnny used so often when trying to make a point.

        "I have his eyes? No, little dove, it's the other way around. John has his daddy's eyes."

        Jennifer would not be swayed as she teased, "You laugh like Uncle Johnny, too. And your voices sound alike. But your hair's longer than his. Cap would make him get a haircut if ever grew it that long. And Uncle Johnny's hair doesn't have any gray in it. But yours does. Just a little bit though, at the temples. My mom says that makes a man look distinguished."

        Roy was mortified by his daughter's lack of tact, but Chad took it in stride just like Johnny would have. He winked at Jennifer.

        "If John was your son you'd have a few gray hairs on your pretty head, too, little dove."

        "Oh, Uncle Johnny's given me a few gray hairs in my day, Chayton. You just can't see them 'cause I'm a natural blond."

        Again, Chad Gage broke into a round of laughter that made Roy's heart ache. Jennifer was right. He sounded just like Johnny.

        Much like Johnny and Jennifer, Roy came to realize that Chad and Jennifer could verbally spar all night if given half the chance. The paramedic sat back and enjoyed their playful interaction, despite the way it hurt to see so many of Johnny's mannerisms in his father, until he saw Doctor Brackett walking towards them.

        Using one hand, Kelly indicated for everyone to remain in their seats. He sat on the coffee table across from Jennifer and smiled.

        "Well, young lady, are you ready to go say hello to your Uncle Johnny?"

        Now that the moment was approaching Jennifer wasn't quite so brave. She managed a nod and small smile.

        "Yes."

        "Did your dad tell you what to expect?"

        "Yeah. We talked about it when I got home from school."

        "Good. Do you have any questions for me?"

        "No. I don't think so."

Kelly held out his hand. As Jennifer grasped it he stood. She slid off her chair and looked at Roy.

        "Can Daddy come, too?"

        "Sure."

        Doctor Brackett looked at the Gage family. "I'm sorry, but there won't be room for all of us. One of you may come; however, if you'd like."

        Reah nodded to her father. "Go on, Dad. This was your idea. You go ahead and see it through. Pacachu and I will wait here. When you come back we'll take our turn at saying goodnight to John."

        Chad Gage stood. Reah reached out and gave his hand a squeeze, then released him so he could follow Doctor Brackett, Roy, and Jennifer.

        Jennifer's eyes traveled up to the uniformed officer's face as they passed him on their way through the doors. Her father hadn't told her about him. Maybe he stood there in order to keep people out of the Intensive Care Unit who didn't belong.

        The girl hoped Doctor Brackett couldn't feel her palm sweating. If he did, he might not let her see Uncle Johnny and then Chris would call her a chicken liver. But more important than that, she had to help Uncle Johnny. Just saying hello to him might make him feel better. That's what her daddy had told her. She couldn't back out now. Plus, she could tell Uncle Johnny's daddy wanted her to do this. She had a feeling her own daddy did, too, even though he'd told her it was her decision.

        None of the rooms they passed had doors, but Jennifer knew they wouldn't. That was something her father had mentioned during their talk. The adults stopped when they came to a room across from the nurse's station. Jennifer stood on her tiptoes between her father and Doctor Brackett. The man in the bed was covered with a blanket to his waist, and turned on his left side so she couldn't see his face. That didn't matter, though, because the mass of black hair lying against his pillow was all Jennifer needed to see to know who he was.

        Doctor Brackett looked down at the nine year old.

        "Are you all right?"

        Jennifer tried to find her voice but couldn't. She nodded, hoping the adults would accept this as an answer. She saw a look pass between her father and the doctor. She squeezed her daddy's hand and whispered, "I'm fine. I wanna say hello to Uncle Johnny now."

        Kelly smiled. "You don't have to whisper, Jenny. As a matter of fact you'll need to talk in your normal tone of voice so Uncle Johnny can hear you. Okay?"


        Kelly picked Jennifer up as Roy and Chad followed them into the room.

        "We made a nice spot for you right on the side of Johnny's bed. But be careful. You can't wiggle around too much."

        Jennifer frowned at the man. "I know how to take care of Uncle Johnny, Doctor Brackett. I did it all by myself on the mountain while I waited for Daddy to come."

        "Yes, you did. And you did a fine job. I apologize for insulting you. My words of caution are just so you don't accidentally hurt Johnny or bump one of his IV's."

        "I won't move around."

        "All right then, Miss Jennifer, here you go."

        Kelly carefully perched Jennifer on the edge of Johnny's mattress. She sat even with his waist, her right leg barely brushing the fingers that poked from his cast.

        No one said a word as Jennifer's eyes traveled Johnny's body. She didn't see anything her father hadn't told her to expect, but he looked so sick. So much sicker than he had on the mountain. It made the little girl mad. She thought Doctor Brackett and the nurses were supposed to be making Uncle Johnny better, but as far as she was concerned they had only made him worse. Uncle Johnny's father was right. Uncle Johnny needed her in order to get well.

        Jennifer was careful when she leaned forward to brush a sweat soaked strand of hair off Johnny's forehead. She turned to the doctor.

        "He's hot."'

        "He has a fever."

        "What are you doing about that?"

        "We have him on antibiotics. And the nurses are sponging him off with cool water."

        "Jennifer," Roy scolded. "This isn't the Spanish Inquisition. I already told you Uncle Johnny has a fever. Doctor Brackett's doing everything he can for
him."

        "I know. I just wanted to make sure."

        "That's understandable," Kelly Brackett said with a smile. "After all, you were his first nurse."

        "Yep, I was."

        "Jen, go on now and talk to Uncle Johnny," Roy instructed. "Let him know you're all right."

        In Jennifer's opinion, simply telling Uncle Johnny she was 'all right' wasn't going to do much good. He needed to hear more than that. He needed to hear stuff that would make him remember all the fun they had until that man had come to their camp.

        The men watched as Jennifer lightly clasped the fingers protruding from Johnny's cast.

        "Uncle Johnny, it's me, Jennifer. Jennifer Lynn DeSoto, your best girl. I know some bad things happened when we went camping, but that's okay, 'cause me and Chris had a good time anyway. As a matter of fact, we had a great time. We always do when we're with you. Remember how we looked for leaves and rocks for my school project? And how you looked around for rattlesnakes before you sat down? Me and Chris laughed about that and you pretended to be mad. Later on me and Joe played in the water while you and Chris fished. Then we went to the Pow Wow Cave. I never thought I'd get to meet Gray Wolf or Chayton, but now I have. I met your sister, too. Apani. You never told us about her, but she's real nice. Pretty, too. Mom says she can tell you and Apani are brother and sister. I guess that means you look alike. I think you look like Chayton. He has your smile and eyes. Only he keeps telling me it's the other way around. That you have his eyes and smile. I think he likes to tease little girls, same as you do, Uncle Johnny.

        "On our camping trip, after we ate and were sitting around the fire, you told us about Katori. I liked that legend, Uncle Johnny. It will always be my favorite forever and ever from now on. Someday, when I'm grown up and have children, I'll tell them about Katori. Except when the story ends I'll tell them that I know the real Katori. The real He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes. That's you, Uncle Johnny, because you're so brave. You saved my life. You kept that bad man from taking me. And because of you I'm all right. He didn't hurt me Uncle Johnny. He didn't hurt Chris, either. We're both okay."

        Jennifer's gaze never left Johnny's face as she talked. When her monologue was finished, and his eyes remained closed, she didn't know what else to do. He had to wake up for her. He just had to.

        "Remember the song I sang when we were waiting for my daddy to come?
Would you like me to sing it for you now?"

        Jennifer didn't get an acknowledgment of her words, but then she didn't expect one either. She squeezed Johnny's fingers and started to sing in her clear, crisp soprano voice.
        "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away."

        The men watched Johnny as Jennifer sang the song through two more times. Doctor Brackett was just about to put an end to their visit when he saw Johnny's eyes move beneath his lids. He seemed to be trying to locate Jennifer's voice.

        "Jenny, stop singing for a second and talk to your Uncle Johnny again. I think he's looking for you."

        Jennifer did as the doctor asked of her. She, too, saw the movement beneath John's closed eyelids.

        "Uncle Johnny? Uncle Johnny, I'm right here. I'm okay, Uncle Johnny. I'm fine."

        It took John Gage several long seconds to pry his eyes open. If he'd been able to vocalize he would have shouted, "Jennifer! Jenny, where are you?" But for whatever reason he couldn't project his thoughts out his mouth so had to look for the source that had brought him to consciousness.

        Though Jennifer's petite form was blurry at best, Johnny recognized the little girl with the red ribbon in her ponytail. She gave him a big smile and told him again that she was all right.

        Johnny's eyes traveled to the equipment surrounding his bed. For the first time in what seemed like weeks, he knew where he was. His eyes moved to the men standing behind Jennifer. Their faces weren't clear either, but he was able to identify one of them as Doctor Brackett and another as Roy. The third man's identity he wasn't sure of, but he could tell the guy was giving him a big grin that looked oddly familiar.

        Johnny rested his exhausted gaze back on Jennifer. Memories of their weekend together came flooding back. That she was alive filled him with overwhelming joy. He wanted to pick her up and swing her around while giving her a big hug. For now he had to settle for what little contact he could manage. He wasn't sure why his left arm felt so heavy as he lifted it from his pillows. It took all his strength to get his fingers to her face. The back of his index and middle fingers rubbed over her smooth cheek. Then he tweaked her nose, something he'd been doing to her almost since the first day he'd met her. The significance of that act wasn't lost on Roy.

        He's going to be okay now. The paramedic could feel his sense of relief untie the knot that had been in his stomach since the moment Chris had told him what had happened to Johnny. He's got a long way to go before he walks out of this hospital, but he's going to make it. He'll pull through.

        Jennifer's voice filled the room once again.

        "Hi, Uncle Johnny. Daddy said it was my job to make you wake up. I guess
I did pretty good, huh, 'cause you're awake now."

        Jennifer could barely feel the second tweak Johnny gave her nose. By the way Johnny's eyelids were suddenly threatening to close again Roy realized that even this little bit of activity was wearing the injured man out. Knowing Chad Gage would want to spend a few minutes with his son before Johnny fell back to sleep prompted Roy to step to his daughter's side.

        "Let's say goodbye to Uncle Johnny, Princess. His dad wants to talk to him next."

        "Okay." Jennifer squeezed John's fingers. "Goodbye, Uncle Johnny. I'll see if Doctor Brackett will let me come back tomorrow. Chris'll wanna come, too. He's soooo jealous 'cause I got to see you and he didn't."

         Jennifer stopped her father as he started to lift her from the mattress.
        "Wait, Daddy. I wanna kiss Uncle Johnny goodbye."

        Roy tried to figure out the best way to get this accomplished in light of all the medical equipment. Finally he decided that holding Jennifer above Johnny's head might do the trick. He picked his daughter up, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other around her shoulders.

        "All right, Jen, here you go."

        Jennifer felt her upper body being tilted downward until she was able to place a kiss on Johnny's forehead.

        "Bye, Uncle Johnny. Sleep good."

        Johnny felt Roy's hand on the top of his head next.

        "Bye, Junior. I'll see you tomorrow."

        John blinked his eyes once. Roy had been Johnny's partner long enough to know this was his way of saying goodbye considering the circumstances.

        As much as he would have liked to, Roy didn't stick around to see the reunion between father and son that night. He had a nine year old to get home to bed. Regardless, for the first time since Sunday afternoon he left Rampart with a bounce to his step. He knew Johnny would have a long and often painful road to travel until he was fully recovered, but if nothing else Roy felt certain his partner had taken his first small step in that direction tonight.

        The paramedic felt his daughter snuggle into his side as he drove them home. Jennifer looked up into his face.

        "You're happy again, aren't you, Daddy? You're happy 'cause Uncle Johnny's going to get better now."

        "Yes, I'm happy," Roy smiled. "Happy that three people who are very important to me survived a very scary ordeal."

        "Me, and Chris, and Uncle Johnny. Right?"

        "Right. You, and Chris, and Uncle Johnny."

        "When we get home you have to call Captain Stanley and tell him Uncle Johnny's better. And Chet and Marco and Mike, too. Only don't tell Chet that Uncle Johnny's Indian name, Katori...don't tell him it means He Who Dances With Rattlesnakes. Uncle Johnny made me and Chris promise Chet would never know that."

        "Don't worry, I won't tell Chet. Though I just might have to tease Uncle Johnny about it a time or two."

        "Oh, Daddy, please don't. At least not until Uncle Johnny is feeling better."

        "No, sweetheart. No teasing until Uncle Johnny is feeling better."

        "Promise?"

        "Promise. I'll save it for when the time is right."

        "When will that be?"

        "I'm not sure. But with your Uncle Johnny, when it arrives I'll know it."

        "Probably when he's teasing you about something."

        "Yeah," Roy chuckled at his daughter's perceptiveness. "That's probably when."

        The paramedic turned the car into a the parking lot of a local ice cream store.

        "Come on, let's get a half gallon of chocolate to take home to your mother and Chris."

        Jennifer released her seat belt and scrambled out of the car. "Are we celebrating?"

        Roy grabbed his daughter and swung her around three times just like Johnny would do if he was with them. He kissed her cheek before setting her on her feet.

        "Yes, Princess, we're celebrating. Tonight, the DeSoto family is having a celebration."

        Roy didn't even care that Jennifer ran ahead of him and announced in full voice to everyone in the ice cream shop that they were celebrating because her Uncle Johnny was better. He felt as giddy as his daughter. As far as he was concerned, if she wanted to shout the good news to the whole world then so be it.

        As the teenager behind the counter filled a half-gallon container with Double Trouble Chocolate, Roy's mind briefly drifted to the man still at large who had tried to take his daughter and kill his best friend. Roy was forced to keep reminding himself of Mark Bellmen's words.

        Believe me when I say the odds of this guy tracking down your kids, or John, are pretty low. Usually these guys get out of town as fast as they can when they've come as close to being caught as he has.

        Roy's own thoughts cast a dark cloud over the man's promise.

        You better be right, Detective, because now my partner's face has been splashed across the front of the L.A. Times along with the story of what happened to him. If that guy shows up looking for revenge...well, you'd better hope he doesn't. If he comes within ten miles of my kids or Johnny the bastard will regret the day he was ever born.

        Five minutes later Roy was pulling his car back onto the road, unaware that at right that very moment another man was on the road, too. Heading south toward Los Angeles.

        

Chapter 33

        Mark Bellmen raked a frustrated hand through his hair until it stood straight up like short, spiky soldiers at attention. It was late on Friday afternoon and he was alone in the Squad Room at Division Headquarters. The amount of sleep he'd gotten since Sunday didn't total more than twenty hours. And now this. He didn't need this on top of everything else.

        "Dammit," he muttered as he read the report in front of him. "I'll get this goddamn prick if it's the last thing I do."

        "Are you taking Lieutenant Selinski's name in vain again there, Mark, old pal?"

        Bellmen looked up as Troy Anders entered the Squad Room. He watched the young man cross to the coffee pot, pick up the mug that read 'Book Him Danno' and pour himself a cup of steaming liquid.

        Eight battered desks were crammed in a room built for half that amount. Troy squeezed between two and moved Mark's in-basket aside so he could perch on one corner of the veteran detective's work space.

        "No, Troy Boy, for a change I'm not cussing out the Lieu," Mark said, his demeanor much more relaxed and unpolished within the confines of the squad room. "I'm cussing out the nameless scumbag I keep seeing in my dreams who tried to snatch Tracy Nichols and Jennifer DeSoto and who put John Gage in the hospital."

        Mark tossed the report in Troy's lap. "Here. Read this. It just came over the wire from a town a hundred or so miles north of here called Bensonville."

        "I've been through there," Troy nodded as his eyes began scanning the paper. "Nice little city. I always thought it would be a good place to raise a family."

        "You might have a change of heart after you read that."

        Troy's pale brows knit with concentration as the words on the paper drew him in. He was everything Mark wasn't. Blond, blue-eyed, good looking in a Nordic sort of way, and still enthusiastic about a job that would eventually beat the optimism out of him. But Mark didn't try to quell that last quality. Troy was had been promoted to the Detective Division just six months earlier. He was only twenty-nine. It wouldn't take much more than two or three years, four tops, before Troy would learn that you had no more than a fifty/fifty chance of solving any case assigned you, and that you saw more ugliness in this job than any one person deserved to view up close and personal in a life time.

        Troy shook his head as he handed the report back to Mark.

        "That poor little girl."

        Mark nodded. Carrie Wrightman's body had been found the previous afternoon in a shallow grave forty miles north of Bensonville. She was naked save for the roller skates still on her feet. She'd been raped, sodomized, and then choked until her larynx was crushed and her neck snapped like twig.

        "You think it's your guy?" Troy asked.

        "The Feds do."

        "The Feds?"

        "Yeah. They got a man working with me. Agent by the name of Quinn Dailey."

        Troy snorted. "Quinn Dailey? Is that his real name, or one he assumed when he became a G-man?"

        "Don't know and didn't ask. He's the head of the Child Abduction and Sex Crimes Unit."

        "Geez. They sent out the big cheese for this, huh?"

        "Yep. He's been on the trail of a guy for ten years now whose M.O. fits the prick we're after. Dailey wants him and wants him bad."

        "What's he know about him? About the perp I mean?"

        "Not much, other than he has a liking for little girls between the ages of eight and eleven. Recently his taste has been for blonds with blue eyes."

        "Just like Tracy and Jennifer."

        "Yeah, just like them. And like Carrie Wrightman."

        Bellmen leaned down and opened a lower desk drawer. He uncapped a bottle of Tums, shook two tablets into his hand, popped them in his mouth, then put the bottle back.

        Troy wrinkled his nose. "I don't know how you can stand those things."

        "When you've done this job as long as I have, kid, you'll know. Believe me, you'll know."

        Troy took note of his mentor's red eyes and drooping mustache. "Rough week, huh?"

        "Whenever a case of mine involves children, it's always a rough week. Not to mention the added fun this one has brought."

        "Our friendly reporter Brian Kessler," Troy easily guessed at the source of Mark's sour stomach.

"Oh, yeah. I needed that asshole and that stunt he pulled like I need a boil on my ass."

        "Mark, come on. What happened...the picture in the paper, the story...it's not your fault."

        "I'm glad you see it that way, Troy Boy, 'cause not too many other people do."

        "Selinski?"

        "Oh, yeah. He chewed my ass good 'cause Kessler managed to get by one of our boys in blue. One of our boys in blue who, by the way, will be walking the beat until the soles of his goddamn shoes are worn out. Not that I necessarily hold it against Selinski. You know what they say, shit rolls downhill. My ass got chewed because his ass had been chewed first."

        Mark held up his right hand. Fingers popped up in succession as he counted off one by one.

        "After Selinski, came the fire department brass. A Battalion Chief by the name of McConnikee threatened to have my balls wrapped in a fire hose. Rampart's administrator yelled at me for twenty minutes non-stop, conveniently forgetting it was one of his nurses who snuck Kessler into Gage's room to begin with. Then came Kelly Brackett. He's Gage's doctor. He tore me up one side and down the other for twenty more minutes. After that came Roy DeSoto. For a soft spoken guy he can have a quite a temper when someone lights his fire. Not that I blame him, you understand. I've got two daughters. It wasn't that many years ago they were nine. I know how the guy feels. This news story not only takes away his best friend's anonymity meaning we have no idea if his attacker might now try to finish the job he started, but it also means the guy could potentially be one step closer to discovering Jennifer's identity. Then, just when I think there's no one left to blame me for Brian Kessler's little foray into Gage's room, along comes Chad Gage, John's father. Christ, does that Indian have a temper. I thought the guy was gonna scalp me. But just like I can't blame DeSoto for his anger, I can't say as I blame Mr. Gage either. If John was my son I'd be furious over what happened. I mean, let's face it. John Gage saved his partner's daughter from certain death, and look how he's repaid. Some asshole sneaks into his hospital room and takes a picture of him half naked, and semi-conscious at best, that hits the front page of the Times. After everything he's been through Gage deserves two basic human rights, his dignity and his privacy. Thanks to Brian Kessler he doesn't even have those things."

        Mark let out a heavy sigh as he leaned back in his chair. He pushed his feet against the floor, rocking the old spring supported chair in a slow, steady rhythm that Troy doubted brought him any comfort.

        "Look, Mark, nothing that happened involving Kessler is your fault. You just happened to be the most convenient guy to blame when he managed to get past our guard."

        "Yeah, I suppose. But you know what really sucks about all this?"

        "What?"

        "That damn Kessler will probably win the frickin' Pulitzer Prize."

        "Yeah, probably so," Troy agreed. "And you're right, that sucks."

        The younger man drained the last of the coffee in his mug. He leaned backwards and set the mug on his desk.

        "Speaking of John Gage, how's he doing?"

        "Better. His condition finally stabilized on Wednesday night."

        "Have you gotten a chance to interview him yet?"

        "No. I talked to Brackett this morning. They still have Gage on the ventilator, though he thought John might come off it by tomorrow. Nonetheless, he wouldn't commit to a day when I can see Gage. I have a feeling Brackett's gonna make me wait until John's moved out of ICU."

        "When might that be?"

        "Beats me. I'm hoping DeSoto will know something more."

        "DeSoto?"

        "Yeah. Dailey and I are going to talk to him in the morning."

        "Why?"

        "To break the news about Carrie Wrightman. And so Dailey can tell him what we suspect."

        "What you suspect?"

        Mark stopped his rocking and sat forward in his chair. He picked up the
report that had been sent to him by the Bensonville Police Department.

        "That his best friend kept his little girl from falling into the hands of a serial killer."

___________________________________        

        At ten-fifteen on Saturday morning Roy was in his garage, oiling the chain on Chris's bike. He thought back to the previous weekend. He could hardly believe that just seven short days ago he was snuggled against his wife in bed, secure in the knowledge that his children were with his best friend, safe and happy and having the time of their lives.

        How quickly things can change for the worse. Roy leaned over the blue Schwinn bicycle. In my wildest dreams I would have never imagined a week ago that today Johnny would be in the ICU at Rampart while Joanne and I are thanking God every night because no harm came to our kids.

         Roy's thoughts faded when he heard a car pull into his driveway. He looked up, expecting to see Joanne. Instead, Mark Bellmen emerged from behind the wheel of the black Pontiac sedan. A man Roy didn't recognize climbed out the passenger side.

        The paramedic wiped his hands on a clean cloth as he stood to greet his visitors.

        "Morning, Roy," Bellmen greeted. "I hope you don't mind us dropping by without calling first."

        "No," Roy shook his head. "Not at all."

        Mark indicated to the man beside him. "This is Quinn Dailey. He's an agent with the FBI."

        Roy held his hand out to the man he guessed to be in his early forties. Quinn Dailey was the stereotypical FBI agent. The man stood six feet two inches tall, broad in the shoulders and narrow at the waist. He had the chiseled features of a Greek god, capped by dark hair trimmed in a military cut and offset by eyes so blue they appeared to be purple.

        Agent Dailey shook Roy's hand.

        "Mr. DeSoto. It's nice to meet you."

        "It's nice to meet you, too. And call me Roy."

        Mark smiled at the bike that was turned upside down and resting on its handle bars against the concrete floor of the garage.

        "I see you've got a serious project going there."

        "Serious to my son. Though nothing more than a little minor bike repair to tell you the truth."

        "Can we interrupt your work for a few minutes? Quinn and I would like to talk to you."

        A few seconds passed as Roy waited for Mark to elaborate. When the detective gave Roy no clues as to what type of discussion an FBI agent wanted to have with him the paramedic nodded.

        "Sure. No problem. This can wait."

        Roy indicated to the door that would lead into the kitchen. "Let's go into the house. Can I offer either of you a cup of coffee?"

        "That sounds good," Mark said.

        "That would be fine," Quinn agreed. "Thank you."

        Roy led the way into the spotless kitchen. Not for the first time in fourteen years of marriage he was proud to have a wife who maintained a clean, well cared
for home.

        The paramedic indicated for the men to seat themselves at the table in the dining alcove. They looked out the patio doors while Roy put sugar and cream on the table, then poured three cups of coffee.

        "Nice deck," Mark complimented of the elaborate redwood deck that had two separate levels and a squared off area for the picnic table.

        "Thanks. Johnny helped me build it a few years ago. He helped me tear the wall out, too, in order to put the sliders in. Joanne and I really enjoy being able to linger at the table after dinner while still being able to see the kids playing in the back yard."

        "Speaking of Joanne, is she here?"

        Roy carried the cups of coffee to the table. His visitors nodded their thanks as Roy took a seat.

        "She should be home in a few minutes. She had to drop Jennifer off at a friend's house for a birthday party. From there she's taking Chris to his Boy Scout meeting."

        Mark was happy to hear the DeSoto children were out of the house. He didn't think either of them needed to be privy to what he and Quinn were here to discuss.

        "If you don't mind then, we'll wait for Joanne to return."

        Mark's words only further puzzled the paramedic.

        "Is this about the guy who tried to kidnap Jennifer? About the guy who hurt Johnny?"

        Mark and Quinn exchanged glances as if deciding who should answer Roy's questions.

        "Yes," Bellmen finally acknowledged. "That's what our visit is about."

        "Have you caught him?"

        "No. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I know Joanne will want to hear what we have to say so we'll wait until she joins us."

        Although Roy wanted answers now, he knew Mark was right. Joanne would want to hear first hand what he and Agent Dailey had to say.

        Mark leaned back in his chair and took a long swallow of coffee. God knew he was in bad need of the caffeine. He loosened his tie and undid the first button on his shirt collar. He eyes the paramedic's blue jeans and T-shirt with envy.

        What I wouldn't give to get outta this monkey suit and spend a Saturday fixing my little boy's bike. Only my little boy isn't little any more. He's twenty-three and I spent far too many Saturdays working when he was Chris DeSoto's age.

        "I talked to Doctor Brackett yesterday morning," Mark said while they waited for Joanne to arrive. "He said John's improved somewhat the past few days. He said something about being 'cautiously optimistic' about a full recovery. Whatever that means."

        "That's Doc Brackett's way of saying things are looking up, but at the same time we need to keep in mind Johnny has a lot to overcome."

        "In other words we shouldn't be turning cartwheels yet."

        "Exactly. Though the picture's getting brighter."

        "How so?"

        "I talked to Brackett about a half hour ago. He took Johnny off the ventilator this morning." Roy smiled while giving a thumbs up. "So far so good."

        "I'll be able to interview John soon then?"

        "I don't know. Brackett will be the one to decide when you get that opportunity."

        Mark gave a rueful grin. "I had a feeling that's what you'd say. Kelly Brackett appears to rule Rampart with an iron fist."

        "He's tough when he needs to be," Roy acknowledged. "And a bit on the gruff side now and again. But he's a helluva doctor. Johnny couldn't be in better hands."

        "I suppose that's all that counts."

        "To me it is."

        Before the conversation could continue Joanne entered from the garage. She was carrying her purse in one hand and a white bag from a local bakery in the other. She smiled at Mark Bellmen.

        "I was wondering whose car that was in the driveway."

        "Hi, Joanne," Mark greeted as he stood. The FBI agent followed suit. Mark indicated to the man with a nod of his head. "This is Quinn Dailey. He's an agent with the FBI's Child Abduction Unit."

        Joanne entered the dining area with right hand extended. "Agent Dailey. It's nice to meet you."

        "Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. DeSoto."

        Joanne walked back into the large, sunny kitchen. She opened a cabinet and pulled out four dessert plates, napkins, and a platter.

        "I see Roy has gotten coffee for you. Can I interest you gentlemen in some muffins or doughnuts?"

        "No, no," Mark shook his head. "We won't stay long. We didn't mean to interrupt your breakfast."

        "Oh, this isn't breakfast," Joanne replied as she filled the platter with the tempting treats. "We had that several hours ago. This is just a snack to enjoy along with a few minutes of peace and quiet now that the kids have been delivered to their appointed destinations."

        "Nonetheless, Quinn and I didn't mean to intrude."

        "Don't worry about it," Joanne assured with a smile. She sat the platter down in the center of the table, then passed out the plates and napkins. "There's plenty for everyone. Believe me, when Johnny Gage is your husband's partner you learn to buy twice as much of any food you plan on keeping in the house."

        Mark Bellmen took a chocolate doughnut off the platter Joanne pushed his way.

        "Gage is a big eater, huh?"

        Roy rolled his eyes. "We wonder where he puts it all while still managing to stay so skinny. But then he ping pongs around the station like Ricochet Rabbit on most days so I guess that explains how he burns off the excess calories."

        "My eight year old son is like that," Quinn Dailey said. He smiled his thanks at Joanne as he reached for a banana muffin. "Short of tying him to a chair my wife and I can't get him to sit still for more than thirty seconds at a time."

        "The guys and I have considered tying Johnny to a chair a time or two, but then we'd have to gag him as well or we'd never hear the end of it."

        "Sounds like the men of Station 51 make good comrades," Mark said in
light of the teasing tone behind Roy's words.

        "Yeah. Yeah, I guess we do. I've been with the fire department fourteen years now. This is the best group I've ever had the privilege of working with. We know we can rely on each other in a tight spot. They're a great buncha guys."

        Joanne poured herself a cup of coffee and sat next to her husband. The small talk continued until everyone had consumed either a doughnut or a muffin. When the plates had been pushed aside, and everyone's cups refilled, the smile left Mark Bellmen's eyes. His casual posture became a thing of the past as he sat forward in his chair and leaned his arms on the table.

        "You're probably wondering why Agent Dailey and I dropped by this morning."

        Roy nodded while looking at Joanne. "We're a bit curious."

        "I don't know of any other way to tell you this other than by getting right to the point."

        "Tell us what?" Joanne asked.

        "On Monday of this week an eight year old girl by the name of Carrie Wrightman was kidnapped from a school yard in the city of Bensonville. Do you know where that is?"

        "I know the general area," Roy said. "It's about a hundred miles north of here, right?"

        "Yes. On Wednesday Carrie's body was found in a shallow grave in a thick stand of woods roughly forty miles beyond where she was taken."

        "Oh, Lord," Joanne whispered as her hand reached for Roy's. "Oh, Lord, no."

        Mark saw the look of understanding that passed between the DeSotos. When they turned their eyes to him he gave a reluctant nod.

        "We strongly suspect the man who killed the Wrightman girl is the same man who attempted to abduct Tracy Nichols and your Jennifer. A motel clerk identified him based on the sketch we sent up to the Bensonville PD. Unfortunately, he paid cash for the room and registered as John Doe."

        "And they accepted that?" Roy raised an incredulous eyebrow. "They let the guy register under John Doe?"

        Bellmen shrugged. "He paid cash, Roy. And the clerk had no reason to argue with the guy over the name he gave. Let's face it, a motel's staff sees all kinds of people pass through for a night or two for all kinds of reasons. If the patron doesn't cause any trouble they have no reason to ask him any questions. And certainly no reason to argue with him over the name he gives when he registers."

        Roy sighed. "I suppose not."

        Joanne looked from Bellmen to Dailey, anxiously waiting for one of the men to give them more information. When none was forthcoming she broke the
silence.

        "So are you after this guy? Do you have any idea where he is now?"

        "To answer your second question, Mrs. DeSoto, no. No, we don't have any idea where he is now. But to answer your first, yes, I'm after him. If he's who I think he is, I've been after him for the better part of ten years now."

        "And just who do you think he is?" Roy asked.

        "A guy the press dubbed as the Kankakee Killer over a decade ago. His MO,...mode of operation, seems to involve moving from state to state where he preys on little girls between the ages of eight and eleven. They're never younger than that, and never older. Lately, he seems obsessed with blond hair and blue eyes, though it hasn't always been that way."

        "And what do the little girls say about him?" Joanne asked. "What information have they given you over the years?"

         Dailey's eyes flicked to Mark before returning to settle on Roy and Joanne.
He cleared his throat in a way that indicated to Roy he was reluctant to answer Joanne's question.

         "As far as information goes, Mrs. DeSoto, the first information about the guy we've been able to get has come from Tracy Nichols and Jennifer. None of the other girls...none of the others lived more than four hours after their abductions."

         Joanne squeezed her eyes shut to keep her tears from falling. She felt Roy tighten his grip on her hand and knew his emotions must be similar to hers. That Jennifer was alive to go to a birthday party on this sunny April Saturday was only because John Gage fought so hard to protect her.

        Joanne opened her eyes and dabbed them with the corner of a napkin when Agent Dailey began speaking again.

        "I know this won't be easy for you to hear, but I want the information to come from me before you read it in the newspaper. Like all the girls this man has murdered, Carrie Wrightman was repeatedly raped and sodomized before being choked with so much force her neck was broken."

        Roy swallowed hard. It took him a moment to find his voice.

        "How...how can someone do that to a child?"

        "I wish I could answer that question, but I can't. We know this type of criminal has an array of psychological problems that revolve around their sexual performance and identity. Sometimes they come from an abusive background. Many of them grew up in homes where they were physically or sexually abused at very young ages. But then again, that's not always the case. I worked with someone a few years back who was fond of saying sexual serial killers who prey on children are the lowest of the low. The nuttiest of the nuts. The most insane of us all."

        "So this guy...John Doe...or whatever his name is...you think he's a serial killer?"

        "I don't think it, Roy, I know it. And if I'm correct then Carrie Wrightman was his twenty-seventh victim."

        Roy and Joanne sat in silence, absorbing the impact of what the FBI agent had just told them. When several minutes passed and neither of them spoke Mark Bellmen grew concerned.

        "Roy...Joanne? Are you both all right?"

        Roy gave a slow nod of his head while squeezing his wife's hand once more. "I was just thinking."

        "Thinking about what?"

        "If Johnny hadn't saved our daughter last Saturday we might very well be attending her funeral today. I'm...the relief I feel because that's not the case is almost too great to put into words. But at the same time...at the same time another set of parents now have to bury their little girl. I..."

        Overcome by emotion too painful to voice, Roy pushed his chair away from the table. He crossed to the patio doors and looked out at the deck. He recalled the three weekends he and Johnny had spent building it. Typical of the two of them, that time had included a lot of teasing, a few minor arguments, some 'shop' talk, but most of all just enjoying each other's company while they completed a project they'd conceived together in the squad one day. Roy didn't turn around when he heard Mark Bellmen's voice.

        "At some point John will have to be told about all this. I know we'll have to wait until Brackett gives the word, but..."

        "I'll tell him."

        "Pardon?"

        Roy turned.

        "When Doc Brackett says it's okay, I'll tell him. I don't him want to hear this from you or Agent Dailey. I know you have to talk to him. I know you have to question him about last weekend like you questioned me and my kids, but don't tell him about the Wrightman girl. He...for as carefree as my partner appears to be to the outside world, he's got a big heart. He feels things very deeply, even though more often than not he tries to cover that trait with a smart aleck remark or a bad joke. I know Johnny well enough to know he'll blame himself for this little girl's death."

        "Blame himself?" Bellmen questioned.

        "He'll think he could have done more. He'll get himself all worked up thinking of a hundred ways he could have stopped the guy from getting off that mountain last Sunday, no matter how many people tell him he couldn't have done anymore than he did. No matter how many people tell Johnny he did more...sacrificed more for my kids than most men would have, he won't listen because all he'll be doing is mentally beating himself up while asking himself what else he could have done."

        "Nothing," Mark said with firm conviction. "I know what happened up there. I know how hard he fought to keep that guy from taking Jennifer. I saw the knife wounds, and bruises, and welts, that cover most of his body. There was nothing else he could have done, Roy. Absolutely nothing."

        "No, there wasn't," Roy agreed. "But it will take John Gage a long time to come to peace with that fact. That's why he needs to hear this news from me. From his partner. From his friend."

        Roy turned to stare out the patio doors once again. ">From a man whose child he was able to save."

Chapter 34

        
        Johnny was moved to a regular room the following Wednesday morning. Most of the equipment he'd been hooked up to in ICU had been left behind. He was tired, weak, still running a fever, and in some pain, but at least he was off of the heavy sedatives that had kept him in a state of limbo and brought dreams he'd rather not partake in.

        John knew it was going to be a few days yet before Brackett would allow him the mobility necessary to go to the bathroom on his own or stand under a hot shower. He looked forward to both those small freedoms, and was grateful his father was here.

        At least Dad will be here to help me when I need it. I don't really want a nurse hanging onto my elbow the first time I'm allowed to stand up and take a leak. Not that I really want Dad to have to do that either, but it beats the alternative.

        For as much of a ladies man as John Gage was, he also possessed a large amount of pride and dignity. Being undressed by a woman you were about to make love to was quite different from being undressed by a woman who was about to give you a sponge bath.

        It had been Saturday before Johnny was cognizant enough to realize his family was really with him, as opposed to being visions from a dream. In some ways he'd been surprised by that fact, in other ways he hadn't. They'd never been told before when he was injured, but then in the past he'd never allowed it. This time he'd been hurt too severely to have any say-so in the matter. >From what he'd been told by Captain Stanley, almost from the moment Brackett stepped out of the OR he'd requested the Gage family be notified of Johnny's condition.

        Doc Brackett must not have held out a whole lot of hope that I'd pull through at that point.

        Johnny had to hand it to both his father and sister. Neither of them had yet to say a word about his ten year absence from their lives. Yes, there had been frequent phone calls back and forth once he got settled in L.A. and the pain of past events had receded somewhat, but he'd never gone back to Montana for a visit despite the many invitations his father had extended, and he'd never invited his family to his new home. Not even after he moved out of his small apartment and onto the ranch where he no longer had the excuse that he didn't have enough room to properly entertain guests.

        The only comment Gray Wolf had made about the ten years that had gone by was on Sunday. As he stood to leave the ICU after a short visit with Johnny, he bent and kissed the top of his grandson's head.

        "You have been gone a long time, Katori." When the old man straightened he touched his chest with his right hand. "But you have always remained here, within Pacachu's heart. And you always will. You have chosen the right path for yourself, John. After talking to your friends, the men you work with each day and the people here at this hospital who think so highly of you, I can see you're right where you need to be."

        Johnny's voice had been weak and hoarse when he replied, "Does my father see it?"

        "Yes, Katori, your father sees it. I suspect he has seen it for a long time. But you are his only son. He loves you very much. Do not fault him for wanting you by his side. This is the way it’s been amongst fathers and sons for many generations within our family. Within our tribe. Someday, when you have a son of your own, you will understand."

        John supposed he did understand somewhat. The enormity of a father's love is the only way Johnny could explain his dad's presence the previous afternoon when a detective named Mark Bellmen was allowed in the ICU by Kelly Brackett. Both Brackett and Johnny's dad stayed in the room while Bellmen questioned him. Johnny got the impression his father had been told of the detective's planned visit ahead of time so he could be with his son when the interview was conducted. John had to admit he appreciated his father's presence for reasons only the two of them would know.

        Johnny was forced to hide his smile as the questioning began. Kelly Brackett stood at the end of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest while wearing a slight frown. Bellmen kept glancing at him. Johnny had known Brackett long enough to easily guess the doctor had told Mark Bellmen that the interview would end as soon as John grew tired, or if he got upset. Brackett watched over his patient like a faithful guard dog from the first question right up to the last.

        From what Johnny gathered, the story he told Detective Bellmen didn't differ from what Chris and Jennifer DeSoto had told him. The detective was curious about the two hours that passed while Jennifer and Chris hid in the Pow Wow Cave. Johnny's recollection of that time was vague at best. He dimly recalled fighting with his assailant.

        "I wanted to give the kids enough time to get away," he replied in a raw whisper because his throat was still inflamed from the after-effects of the now absent breathing tube. "I...I remember he finally got the best of me. I was on my back, with him straddling my stomach, and I saw the knife coming down. It was headed for my chest. Then I heard Joe growl. He came out of nowhere and knocked the guy off of me. What happened then I'm not sure. I think Joe was going after him pretty good, but I lost consciousness at that point." Johnny had turned to his father then. "Do you know what happened to my dog? Is he all right?"

        Chad nodded. "He's fine. He spent a few days at a vet's clinic. Like his master, he had a dislocated shoulder and had been knocked around a bit, but we picked him up on Friday. He's going to make a full recovery. He's at your ranch. We're taking care of him for you."

        "Good. Roy's kids would be upset if something happened to him. They gave him to me."

        "I know. Jennifer told us. She was disappointed Joe couldn't stay at her house, but as long as we're at the ranch he might as well be at his home."

        It was then that Mark Bellmen redirected Johnny's attention to him. The paramedic had felt like he could simply drift off to sleep in the middle of the man's questions, but he forced himself to keep his eyes open. He wanted to get this over with in one sitting, as opposed to going through it again in a few days.

        Johnny told the rest of his story that Tuesday afternoon, though how helpful he was he wasn't sure. Large chunks were missing from his memory that he attributed to being the times he was unconscious. He was able to identify the knife Bellmen held up that was found at the scene and now encased in a plastic bag.

        "Yeah, that's what he was using. A bowie knife."

        "How about this?" Mark asked when he held up a light blue knapsack. "We found this in a tree. Roy DeSoto said it didn't belong to either of his children, nor did he think it was yours."

        "It's not."

        "Have you ever seen it before?"

        "No."

        The next item Bellmen pulled out of his pocket was a white piece of paper that had been folded in the middle.

        "One more question, John, and then I'll let you get your rest." Bellmen turned the same police artist's sketch around that he'd shown to Roy DeSoto and his children. "Is this the man who attacked you and tried to abduct Jennifer?"

        It wasn't until hours later that Johnny realized how odd Mark Bellmen and Kelly Brackett must have found it when he zoned out just staring at that picture. How many times Brackett called his name he didn't know. In a dim way he was aware of the man beckoning him, and aware that his father's voice chimed in with Brackett's after a few seconds as well, but he couldn't force his mind back to the present. When he finally looked at his father he wasn't seeing Chad Gage as he was today, but rather as he'd looked ten years earlier.

        "It's Kent," Johnny whispered with wide, unfocused eyes. "It was Kent, Dad."

        Johnny heard Bellmen echo, "Kent?" in a voice that seemed excited, as though he'd just made some valuable discovery. Johnny saw his father shake his head at the detective, then watched as his dad stood and leaned over his bed.

        "John, that's not Kent. That's in the past, son. Long in the past. Look again, John. Look at the picture. That man doesn't resemble Kent at all. Not in the slightest." Johnny felt his father gently turn his head until his eyes were forced to focus on the pencil drawing. "John, look. That's not Kent."

        Johnny knew Doctor Brackett had edged closer to the bed. Later he'd realize the poor guy probably thought his star patient was flipping out on him. He heard his father urge him again to look at the picture. He did as his dad ordered. He stared at the photo a long time, then shook his head against his pillows.

        "That's not him."

        "This isn't the man who stabbed you?" Bellmen asked.

        "That's not Kent."

        "We know that, John," Johnny's dad intervened before Detective Bellmen
grew any more confused. "But is this the man who stabbed you and tried to take Jennifer?"

        "Jessie?"

        "No, son, not Jessie. Jennifer. Jennifer DeSoto. Roy's daughter. Is this the man who tried to take her?"

        Johnny blinked a couple times, then stared at the picture again, this time seeing the face in a whole new light. "Uh...yeah. Yeah. That's him. That's the guy."

        Whatever confusion Johnny's comments caused his father handled. The paramedic's eyes closed as conversation buzzed around him. He ignored the men as he sank deeper into his pillows and allowed sleep to claim him. He heard Doctor Brackett tell the detective it was time for him to leave. Later, he thought he heard his father talking with Brackett, and thought he caught the words 'Kimberly' and 'our little Jessie', but whatever sedative Brackett was still giving him was strong and he really didn't care what the two men discussed just as long as they didn't expect him to participate in their little talk.

        When Kelly Brackett had made rounds this morning John thought his smile held a tenderness that wasn't normal for him. When Brackett squeezed his blanket covered foot as he approached the head of the bed Johnny scowled.

        "I can take a pretty good guess regarding what my father told you yesterday after Detective Bellmen left, but I don't want your pity. Or anyone else's. And I hope the conversation the two of you had goes no farther."

        Johnny expected Brackett to be hurt by his words considering how long they'd known one another, or maybe rebuke him for them by pointing out he was Johnny's physician and therefore had the right to know about any private matters that might adversely affect his recovery, but instead all the doctor said was, "You've never even told Roy?"

        "No."

        "Why not?"

        "I...I just haven't. It was a long time ago. It happened before we knew one another. There's no point in discussing it."

        Brackett's, "I see," sounded doubtful, and as if he had a lot more he'd like to say on the subject, but he respected John's wishes. Thirty minutes later Johnny was headed to a private room on the third floor.

        Though Johnny wouldn't admit it to anyone else, he was beat. His family had visited this afternoon, as had the guys from A-shift who had gone off another rotation at eight that morning, followed by Dixie at the end of her own shift. He'd eaten just enough supper to keep the nurses happy, and was now reclining against his pillows drifting off to sleep. He still had an IV in his right hand, and still possessed his sling, his cast, and more bandages than he could count. He was also still resting on his left side, with the ever present pillows behind him. His bed was raised to a forty-five degree angle now, though, which at least made him feel like he was somewhat participating in the world around him. He had a television in this room, too, though he'd been told it was broken so hadn't bothered to aim the remote at it and turn it on. A nurse had promised him a new TV first thing in the morning. Not that it really mattered. He was too tired tonight to even consider watching the thing.

        Johnny wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep when he heard the door open. He would have ignored his visitor and allowed himself to be lured back to senseless slumber had he not recognized the voice that whispered, "I think Uncle Johnny's sleeping, Dad."

        Johnny pried his eyes open to find Chris and Roy standing at the foot of his bed. He hadn't seen the eleven year old since Chris took off down the mountain on Cody ten days earlier. He gave the boy the best smile he could muster.

        "Hi, Sport."

        Roy didn't know if it was the weak tone that now passed for Johnny's voice that caused Chris's reaction, or the pale face that was showing signs of both fever and weight loss, or the sling, bandages, and cast that spoke of his many injuries, or simply the memories that flooded the eleven year old's mind as he looked at the man he was now bound together with by a near-tragic incident no one else, save for Jennifer, could really ever be a part of.

        Whatever it was, tears started running down Chris's face as he approached the bed. Roy wasn't sure if he should let Chris stay or take him from the room when the silent tears changed to sobs. He didn't want either Chris or Johnny to get upset, but before he could make a decision Chris buried his head in the space between Johnny's left arm and his chest. Roy was touched by his son's gentleness as the boy laid his right arm across John's stomach, right under his sling, in the best form of a hug he could manage considering Johnny's injuries.

        Johnny seemed to understand exactly what Chris needed from him. He resisted the urge to wince in pain as he moved his right arm forward enough so he could run his fingers through Chris's hair.

        "Don't cry, Christopher Roy. Don't cry."

        Chris's words were muffled by the mattress, but both Roy and Johnny were able to decipher them.

        "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I disobeyed. I know you didn't want me to ride Cody. But I had to get my dad. I hope you understand."

        "I do, Chris. Don't worry, I do."

        "But if you still want to tan my hide like you said, that's okay. I mean,...I know I have it coming 'cause me and Jen were supposed to listen to you and do exactly what you said."

        Johnny couldn't move his hand enough to cup his fingers under Chris's chin and force him to lift his head, so instead he made a verbal request of the boy.

        "Chris, look at me. Please. Come on, lift your head and look at me."

        For a few seconds Roy didn't think Chris was going to do as Johnny asked of him, but then he saw his son's head come up from the mattress. Johnny rewarded Chris with that familiar Gage grin.

        "Now let me ask you this. Do I really look like I'm in any condition to be tanning your hide?"

        Despite the tears still running down his face Chris couldn't help but laugh.

        "No."

        "No," Johnny echoed. "I don't think so. I'm not in any condition to do much more than what I am right now, which is lay here and watch the world go by. But thanks to you, Sport, I'm still around to do just that." John lifted his cast and wrapped his fingers around Chris's forearm. "You made the right decision, Chris. I might not have liked it at the time, and there were many reasons why your decision caused me a lot of worry, but you did what you had to do. I can't fault you for that."

        "So you'll take me camping again?"

        "You bet. Only it might be a while before we can go. I've got a feeling Doctor Brackett's going to be restricting my activity for a couple months to come."

        "That's okay. I can wait."

        Chris beamed from ear to ear as he carefully hugged Johnny once more. John didn't mean to doze off on the boy, but his body wouldn't allow him to stay awake. He was vaguely aware of Jennifer giving him a kiss on the forehead while rambling on about Gray Wolf visiting her classroom, and then somehow managed to open his eyes for his first visit from Joanne since he'd been brought to Rampart. Like Chris, she cried as she hugged him.

        "Geez," he murmured in a voice wrought with sleep, "you DeSotos sure are a weepy bunch. Roy's gonna have to help me change this hospital gown if there's any more of you waiting out in the hall to cry all over me."

        "Oh, you and your teasing," Joanne scolded with a smile. She grew serious as she grasped the fingers poking out of his cast. "Thank you, Johnny. Thank you for what you did for Jennifer. Roy and I...well, there's no way we can ever repay you."

        "I don't expect you to. Or want you to try. You know I love those kids like they're my own. And you and Roy...you're my best friends, Jo. I couldn't have faced either one of you if I had been forced to come off that mountain without Christopher Roy and Jenny Bean."

        "Don't say that. No matter what might have happened, Roy and I would have known without a doubt that you did the very best you could. That you gave all you had to try to save our children."

        "It would have never been enough for me if the kids didn't come back safe and sound. Never."

        Joanne shook her head at the inert man. "You're one stubborn man, John Roderick Gage." She bent and kissed the same spot on his forehead that Jennifer's lips had touched a few minutes earlier. "And we wouldn't have you any other way. We'll leave you alone now so you can sleep."

        Johnny tried to say good night to his visitors, but couldn't stay awake long enough to accomplish that seemingly small task. He thought he heard Roy say he'd see him tomorrow, and for the first time realized he hadn't held a private conversation of any length with Roy since he'd arrived here. Maybe tomorrow they'd finally get a few minutes to themselves without nurses, or doctors, or Johnny's family, or some fireman, in the room with them.

        And unbeknownst to Johnny, that's exactly what Roy was making certain of as he stopped by Doctor Brackett's office on his way out of the hospital that night.
        
        

Chapter 35

        
        Johnny was surprised to see Roy at ten o'clock on Thursday morning. He knew his partner was now off-duty until Saturday, but hadn't expected him to drop by until visiting hours started at two that afternoon.

        "Better watch it," Johnny rasped. "There's a couple nurses on this floor who aren't as willing to bend the rules for wayward paramedics like Dixie is."

        "I've got permission from Brackett to be here. Besides, when have you ever been worried about following rules?"

        "I'm not. But you are. So like usual, Pally, I'm protecting your reputation while at the same time willing to sacrifice my own."

        Roy arched an eyebrow as he pulled a chair next to Johnny's bed. "As usual, huh? I think Brackett's got you over-medicated, Junior. Your memory isn't so sharp these days."

        My memory is better than you give it credit for, Roy. But that's another story.

        Roy wasn't sure what caused the smile to leave Johnny's face. He waited a few seconds, and when it didn't return he broke the sudden silence that had filled the room.

        "Your voice still sounds pretty raw. How's your throat feel?"

        "Pretty raw."

        Roy smiled at the quip.

        That's better.

        "Running a temp?"

        "Yeah. Around one-hundred. Or so the nurse said a little while ago. They've got me on some new antibiotic Brackett is promising will be the miracle drug that will have me dancing with your wife at the Firemen's Ball on Saturday night."

        "I doubt that," Roy laughed. "I hate to break the news to you, but I think you're going to miss this year's ball."

        "Doesn't matter. I didn't have a date anyway."

        "You would have found one in that little black book you keep. Though the term 'little' hardly does it justice."

        Johnny grinned at the teasing. "You could have bet money on that."

        The small talk quickly faded. Roy could tell Johnny was wondering what brought him here at this time of the morning. He didn't have long to wait before his partner asked.

        "Is everything okay? I mean with Joanne and the kids?"

        "Sure. Everything's fine. You just saw them last night."

        "I know. But a lot can happen in a few short hours."

        Don't I know it, Junior. Don't I know it.

        "Well, nothing has happened, so quit worrying." Roy shifted in his chair so he was sitting up straight.

        "Listen, Johnny, the reason I came by is so I can talk to you about a few things."

        "What things?"

        Roy flicked a thumb toward the television set. "The TV for one thing."

        "What about the TV?"

        "It's...uh...it's not broken."

        "Sure it is. A nurse told me it was when they moved me in here yesterday. They're supposed to get me a new one today."

        "No, they told you that because we didn't want you watching it."

        "Whose we? And why would 'we' care whether or not I watch TV? I'm a little old to need someone to police my viewing habits, wouldn't you say?"

        Roy had known no part of this conversation was going to be easy. If Johnny was able, he'd be sitting up on that bed with his arms crossed looking as indignant as he was looking now while forced to remain on his side.

        "We is me, and your family, and Doc Brackett. And the reason we care is because I need to talk to you about some things before you see them on the news, or read about them in the paper."

        "Oh. So that's why no one's shown up with the newspaper I asked a nurse for a few hours ago."

        "Yeah. That's why."

        "What's going on?"

        "Several things. Let me start with the first one."

        "Sounds like a logical place to me, even though I haven't the faintest idea what the hell you're trying to tell me."

        Roy shot his partner a look that said, "Cool it, Junior. You're making this a lot harder on me than it already is."

        "John..."

        Roy's use of the name John, as opposed to Johnny, and the hesitation that followed it told the dark headed man whatever discussion was about to take place was going to be painful for both of them.

        "What's wrong?" Johnny could feel his stomach twisting in knots. "If McConnikee is gonna break us up...transfer me because I'm gonna be off my feet for a while, I wanna talk to him right now. I'm sure Cap will talk to him, too. Unless you...unless you asked to have me transferred. I mean...if you don't wanna work with me anymore because of what happened I...I understand. I know it was my job to keep the kids safe and...even though they weren't hurt physically, I know they went through a lot...and...well...if you..."

        Roy couldn't stand to see the hurt in those brown eyes that made his partner look like a ten year old boy who was about to lose his best friend.

        "Johnny, no. No. No one's gonna have you transferred anywhere. Not McConnikee, and certainly not me. And can this nonsense about me not wanting to work with you! For Christ sake what more could I have asked you to do for my daughter? You let that guy stab you so she and Chris could get away. You let that guy beat you with a goddamn billy club while you hid Jennifer beneath your body! Are you nuts?" Roy jumped from his chair. "Me not want to work with you? Have you lost your mind? What would even make you think such a thing?"

        John refused to meet Roy's eyes. The blond man had to strain to hear his partner's reply.

        "When you're on a mountain waiting to die while at the same time praying you have enough strength left to save your best friend's child if need be, a lot of thoughts run through your mind. You remember a lot of times when you triumphed over adversity, but you,.....well, you remember a few times when you failed as well."

        "I see," Roy agreed quietly, his anger evaporating as quickly as it had arrived. When Johnny offered no more he said, "Look, I'm sorry I got so upset. It's just that I don't ever want to hear you say that again. Like Joanne told you last night, even if the camping trip would have had a different outcome...one more tragic than what already has occurred, we wouldn't have blamed you, John. Not for one second would I have not known you didn't do your best by me and my kids."

        Again, Johnny didn't say anything. As Roy looked at his friend's pale face he wished this discussion didn't have to go any farther. However; he knew he had no choice but to finish what he started. Eventually Johnny would get access to a newspaper or the TV, and then he'd hear what they'd been keeping from him.

        "John, as much as I hate to do this right now, I need to talk to you about why I stopped by this morning. Are you okay? Are up for that?"

        Johnny nodded his head against the pillow, finally making eye contact with Roy once again.

        "Yeah. Go ahead. Sorry for interrupting. And I'll quit jumping to conclusions."

Roy smiled. "That would be helpful."

        The blond man remained standing next to his partner's bed as he began to relay the purpose of his visit.

        "First of all, you know that the guy who stabbed you got away, right?"

        "Yeah. Bellmen told me that."

        "Okay. So, with the guy on the run the cops and the FBI have sent that sketch you saw to every police department all up and down the West coast, and to every state as far east as Kansas. But because he's on the run there's been some concern for your safety ever since you were brought here. There was a cop posted outside the ICU while you were there, and now there's one posted outside your door."

        If Johnny was upset by this news he didn't show it. "The guy doesn't know my name."

        "No, he probably didn't."

        "Didn't?"

        "Look, from the very start Bellmen told me the likelihood that one of these guys ever comes back to the scene of the crime is very rare."

        "So that's good news, right?"

        "Yes, it is. Especially since..." Roy wasn't sure how to break this next part to his partner.

        Johnny winced as he sat up straighter against his pillows. "Since what, Roy?"

        "Since a reporter by the name of Brian Kessler managed to sneak into your room in the ICU and snap your picture. It was on the front page of the paper, along with your name and a story about what happened. Your dad's got a copy of it. He'll show it to you this afternoon if you wanna see it."

        Johnny didn't immediately make a response as he absorbed all this information. Finally, he nodded his head.

        "Yeah. Yeah, I wanna see it. That bastard...Kessler did you say his name was?"

        Roy nodded.

        "That bastard Kessler didn't put Jenny's name in the article, did he? Or yours?"

        "No. He just said you'd taken the children of a 'friend' camping for the weekend."

        "Good."

        "Bellmen doesn't think there's anything to worry about," Roy assured again.

        "I'm not worried. Or at least not for myself. As long as the guy...the guy from the mountain I mean, can't track down Jennifer, that's all I care about." Johnny gave a sarcastic snort. "Besides, what else can he do to me that he hasn't already done?"

        Roy had to bite his tongue to keep from saying the first thing that came to mind.

        Kill you.

        Before Roy could speak again Johnny asked him another series of questions.

        "Do they have any leads? Has that sketch I saw helped? It looked just like him. Do they have any idea who he is?"

        Roy groped behind him until he found the arm of the chair he'd vacated. He pulled the chair as close to the bed as he could and sat down. He hesitated again before restarting the conversation.

        "Yeah, John, they've got a few leads."

        "I wish you'd quit doing that."

        "Doing what?"

        "Calling me John. You never call me John unless you're pissed at me or you're gonna tell me something I don't wanna hear."

        "Well, I'm not pissed at you," Roy assured with a small smile, "but as for the latter...yeah, I have to tell you something you're not gonna want to hear. Not anymore than I wanted to hear it when Bellmen and an FBI agent by the name of Quinn Dailey showed up at my house on Saturday morning."

        "What'd they tell you?"

        "Another....," Roy paused and swallowed hard before continuing. "Another little girl by the name of Carrie Wrightman was kidnapped a week ago Monday from a school yard in Bensonville. Her body was found last Wednesday in a shallow grave forty miles north of there."

        Johnny closed his eyes. Roy got the impression his partner thought if he couldn't see him, then maybe he wouldn't hear the rest of what Roy had to say. Unfortunately it didn't work that way, and now that he'd come this far Roy knew he had to finish for both their sakes.

        "Agent Dailey is on the case because he suspects this is a guy he's been after for the last ten years. Twenty-seven girls from twenty different states have gone missing, or been found murdered. They all of them match the same general description. Between the ages of eight and eleven, and lately all with blond hair and blue eyes."

        "Like Jenny," John acknowledged while opening his eyes.

        "Like Jenny," Roy agreed.

        "How...how did she die? Carrie Wrightman. What did he do to her?"

        "It doesn't matter, Johnny. It--,"

        "Yes, it does matter. It matters to me. It matters to her parents. Tell me what he did."

        "John..."

        "Okay, don't tell me. I'll just hear it on the news or read it in the paper. That's why the TV is supposedly broken, isn't it? And why the nurse never sent a volunteer up here with a paper."

        "That's why. Brackett didn't want you told until you were stronger. Your dad and Reah were going to talk to you, but I asked them if I could. I thought,...well, we've been friends a long time. I thought maybe it would be easier if you heard it from me."

        "So tell me the rest of it. How did she die?"

        Gage, you are the most persistent, stubborn mule when you set your mind on something. You know her death wasn't easy. And far from pretty as well. Can't you just leave it at that?

        "Roy?"

        The blond man heaved a sigh. Deep down he knew Johnny was right. If he didn't hear the details about Carrie's death now, he'd just hear them later on the six o'clock news. Roy had to admit to himself the last thing he wanted was for Johnny to be alone when the rest of the story was revealed.

        "She...she was raped, Johnny. Repeatedly. And sodomized with things the Medical Examiner can only guess at. Then she was choked so hard her larynx was crushed. Her cause of death was from a broken neck."

        Johnny's eyes took on a vacant look as he stared at the wall across the room. He thought of the powerful man he'd struggled with, and pictured those huge hands wrapped around the slender throat of a delicate little girl.

        "That could have been Jenny."

        "Yes, it could have been. But thanks to you it wasn't."

        "I should have tried harder to stop him. I...if I had managed to fight with him a little longer maybe I could have..."

        "Don't, Johnny. Don't do this to yourself. Don't you dare do this to yourself. There's nothing, absolutely nothing, you could have done to prevent Carrie Wrightman's death. If you don't value my opinion on this then ask your father, or your sister, or Gray Wolf, or Brackett, or Dixie. Ask Mark Bellmen or Quinn Dailey. You couldn't have done anything more than you did. You damn near died from the injuries you received at that guy's hands. He's crazy, Johnny. A sexual serial killer who preys on little girls, as Agent Dailey phrased it. He won't be stopped until he's caught."

        "But I had that opportunity. I had my hands right on him and--"

        "No. No more. I won't listen to any more of this crap. If I have to tell you a thousand times over that you did the best you could, that you did more than a lot of people would have in order to keep Jennifer safe, then I will. But I won't sit here and listen to you blame yourself for something that isn't your fault. Do you understand, Junior?"

        It took a moment, but finally Johnny gave a tight nod of his head. He closed his eyes.

        "I'm kinda tired, Roy. I...I'd like to get some more sleep."

        Roy was well aware he was being dismissed. He thought about refusing to leave, but forced himself to respect Johnny's desire for privacy.

        "Okay, I'll head back home then. Your family's going to come by this afternoon. And probably some of the guys as well. I'll call you after supper. If you're not too worn out from your visitors Joanne and I will come up for a few minutes."

        Johnny nodded but never opened his eyes when he spoke. "Bring the kids."

        "You sure? I'm sure they can stay at the Stokers' for a couple hours."

        "No. I wanna see them. And tell Jen to bring Aggravation. Maybe we can play for a while."

        Roy thought Johnny was going to be exhausted long before it was time to play Aggravation, yet he understood his partner's need to be with Chris and Jennifer considering the news he'd just been told about a little girl named Carrie Wrightman.

        "Aggravation it is. I'll make sure to tell her."

        When Johnny heard Roy settle the chair back in a corner of the room he reached out his left hand.

        "Roy?"

        "Yeah?"

        When Roy got no response he walked over to the bed and took a hold of the fingers sticking out of the cast.

        "I'm still here, Johnny. You need something?"

        "No. Just wanted to say thanks."

        "For what?"

        "Being such a good friend. I...I know what you had to say about...about that little girl, was just as tough on you as it was on me."

        "You'd have done the same if our positions had been reversed."

        Johnny didn't make a response. Roy remained standing next to the bed until he was certain his partner had fallen asleep. He gave the fingers he was still grasping a light squeeze before resting Johnny's arm on the pillow once again.

        "You're a good friend, too, John Gage," the paramedic whispered. "A damn good friend. And don't you ever doubt that for a second."
        
        

Chapter 36

        

        John Gage sat in a chair at the small round table in his hospital room. He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes, while at the same time massaging his throbbing temples, two things he did a lot lately when no medical personnel could see him.

        The paramedic looked down at the newspaper that was now outdated by over two weeks. Carrie Wrightman smiled up at him from the black and white print. She so easily could have been Jennifer DeSoto. Or one hundred other nameless little girls who only wanted to enjoy their childhood and have the opportunity to grow up.

        An opportunity Carrie didn't get because I couldn't stop him. Because I couldn't keep the bastard from running off that night.

Johnny didn't bother to read the article that accompanied Carrie's picture. He'd long ago committed it to memory.

        The man sighed as he gazed out his hospital window. April had turned to early May since he'd arrived at Rampart. The often painful physical therapy he was forced to endure was helping his right arm and leg regain the strength and dexterity they'd possessed before his attack. The cast on his left arm was due to come off in two days which, no doubt, meant more painful therapy on a limb that would be stiff and weak due to its confinement. But those things were minor compared to the back problems he was experiencing. He'd been fighting an infection from those deeper stab wounds on and off for the past three weeks. Doctor Brackett's promise that the new antibiotic would do the trick in clearing up the infection had been repeated with several more antibiotics, until the doctor realized it was to his patient's benefit not to make anymore promises. Johnny's temperature was still bouncing anywhere between the normal ninety-eight point six and the not so normal one hundred and one. But that didn't worry the paramedic nearly as much as the spasms that would grip his back muscles without warning. His physical therapist kept assuring him that time and exercise would take care of that, but those assurances didn't keep Johnny from worrying about his future.

        A fireman who can't carry a victim from a burning building will be out of a job quicker than he can pull on his turn-out pants.

        Three days earlier Johnny's father and grandfather had flown back to Montana. Chad Gage's younger brother, Lucas, was taking care of his ranch for him, but the man worked a full-time job in town as well. That meant Chad couldn't expect Luke to offer his help indefinitely.

        Johnny thought back to their parting. His grandfather had been the first to hug him and say his good-byes.

        "Katori, do as your doctors say so you can soon return to your hearth. You have made a warm and rich home for yourself. Who would have ever thought a person could find a ranch here in Los Angeles."

        Johnny chuckled at the marvel he heard in his grandfather's voice. This visit had been eye-opening for the elderly man who had never before left the state he'd been born in, and had certainly never been in a city populated with more than twenty thousand people.

        "You will always be in Pacachu's heart. I hope you will one day return to his home."

        The paramedic knew this was his grandfather's way of reminding him a visit was long overdue. When Johnny made no response the old man didn't press him further, just like John knew he wouldn't.

        His father was a different story; however. Gray Wolf stepped out of the room so Chad and Johnny could say their good-byes in private. The last few weeks had brought them closer than they had been since Johnny was a boy. And yet, Chad could still feel the barrier his son would erect each time their conversations threatened to go beyond the surface things like how John was feeling, or small talk about ranches, horses, relatives, or John's work as a paramedic.

        Johnny had to resist the urge to turn away when his father laid a hand on
his forehead.        

        "You're feverish again."

        "I know."

        "Doctor Brackett won't let you out of here until your temperature returns to normal."

        "I know that, Dad. But there's not much I can do about it."

        John refused to meet his father's eyes. That was of little consequence though, because Chad voiced what Johnny would have seen there had he been willing to look.

        "You can't run forever, John."

        Johnny laughed. "If you haven't noticed, I'm not running much of anywhere these days."

        "Don't do that."

        "Do what?"

        "Hide your pain behind a smile and a smart aleck remark."

        Johnny's tone warned his father to back off. "Dad..."

        "I want you to come home."

        The apparent shift in subject caught Johnny off guard.

        "What?"

        "Home. To Montana. When Doctor Brackett releases you I want you to fly home with Reah."

        "I can't."

        "Why not?"

        "Because...because I'll have to go back to work."

        Chad raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I highly doubt you'll be returning to work the day after you get out of the hospital."

        "I have before."

        "If you say so. But this was a bit more than a sprained ankle or smoke inhalation."

        "Dad..." Johnny shifted on the bed, then turned his head. In doing so he broke eye contact with his father once again. "Please. I don't want to fight with you."

        "I don't want to fight with you either, son. But you have to face facts. Your health is not improving at the rate your doctor expected once you were moved from the Intensive Care Unit. Your temperature bounces up and down like a yo-yo, you're being plagued by nightmares..."

        John shot his father a dark scowl.

        "Don't look at me like that. And before you say anything else, I do have the right to speak to your doctor, and to expect honest answers from him when I can't get them from you."

        "I've never lied to you."

        "Then I think you and I have a very different definition of that word. When you tell me you slept 'fine', then later I discover you woke up screaming in the middle of the night, I'm forced to conclude you fibbed to me."

        "You know, Dad, I can see why you've gone so far in tribal politics these last few years. You missed your calling as governor of the whole damn state."

        "John Roderick--"

        Johnny's head came off his pillows.

        "Look, I'm not a kid anymore so don't stand there scolding me! I haven't lived under your roof since I graduated high school. I've made a life here for myself. My friends are here. My ranch is here. I work a job I love and don't have any intention of giving up."

        "I'm not asking you to give it up. Nor give up your friends or your home. I'm simply saying you've been through hell. Again. You can't lay there and tell me that this situation hasn't brought back memories of Kim and Jess..."

        "Don't say it," Johnny hissed, the eyes shining with fever only further accented his pale face. "Don't say anymore."

        Chad took a deep breath. He would not allow this to be like the last time he and his son parted ten years earlier. There would be no more shouts or angry words. Instead, he said softly, "Just because you refuse to speak of them doesn't mean they didn't exist."

        Without waiting for a response, Chad rested his callused palms on either side of his son's face. Johnny felt his father's lips touch his forehead.

        "I hope you'll change your mind and come for a visit when you're feeling up to it. But regardless of whether you do or not, I love you, John. And I'm proud of you for reasons too many to name."

        It seemed to Johnny as though his father had barely gotten those words out that night, and then he was gone. He couldn't recall his dad ever having told him he loved him before. Yes, the feeling had always been there. Readily evident in his dad's smile, or a stern word of correction, or in the hands that had worked so hard to provide for him throughout his childhood. But the words of love had never been spoken. And now, just when Johnny was realizing that and wanting to say them in return, his father was back in Montana.

        As he sat in his chair a half a smile touched the paramedic's lips.

        No doubt he planned it this way, hoping it will prompt me to go see him when I'm released from this place. And speaking of release, it's about time Brackett springs me from here.

        Those thoughts had barely run through Johnny's mind when the door opened. He looked up to see Kelly Brackett enter the room.

        "Morning, Johnny."

        "Hi, Doc."

        Kelly read the chart he was carrying as he talked. "How are you feeling?"

        "The same way I felt yesterday. And the day before that. Fine. And if I'm feeling fine, it would only make sense for you to free this room up for someone else who's not feeling so fine."

        "What's the matter there, Johnny?" Brackett smiled as he pulled the chair out across the table from the paramedic. "You've got a complaint about our accommodations?"

        "Let's put it this way. I like your accommodations a lot better when I'm making use of them as a paramedic. I'd prefer not to have to make use of them as a patient."

        "We'd prefer that, too. But if you become any more of a 'regular' Dixie's going to be setting a room aside for you on a permanent basis. You know, kind of your home away from home."

        Johnny wasn't in the mood to partake in the teasing. He latched onto the only word in Brackett's sentence that really mattered to him.

        "Speaking of home, I'd like to go back to mine."

        "You will."

        "When?"

        Kelly set John's chart aside. He sat back in the chair and met the paramedic's intense gaze. He held up his right hand, displaying fingers one by one as he counted off.

        "Number one. When you've gotten through three consecutive days without a fever. Your temperature's been normal for the past twenty-four hours so you're off to a good start."

        "My temperature's been normal for twenty-four hours before, only to have it go up again without warning."

        "That's true. But as you know, I changed your medication again on Monday. Maybe we've finally hit on the one that works."

        "God knows I hope so."

        "I hope so as well. Now; onto number two. That cast is set to come off on Friday. If Doctor Taylor says your wrist has healed in the way he expects it to, and you promise to follow to the letter whatever instructions he gives you in regards to what you can and can't do once you're released,...."

        "I will."

        Brackett tossed the paramedic a skeptical grin. "Yeah, for about two days you will until you decide you just have to climb on the back of one of your horses. Or repair a fence. Or put a new gate on your corral. Or put hay up in the mow. Or,...."

        "Doc, no. I'll do what Taylor says. Really, I will."

        "I've never known you to sit still for more than five minutes once you've
decided you're fully recovered from whatever injury or illness brought you to me, but if nothing else, this time I know I can count on Reah to make certain you do as your doctors order."

        Johnny rolled his eyes. Other than Dixie McCall, there was only one other woman who could make him toe the line when necessary, and that was his big sister. Although she'd told him she was remaining in Los Angeles for a few weeks to assist him in whatever ways necessary when he was released from the hospital, he'd known all along that another part of the reason she hadn't returned to Montana yet was so she could make certain he followed Kelly Brackett's instructions to the letter when he was first allowed to return home. He had a feeling a number of people had conspired to see this took place, including his sister, his father, Brackett, and Roy.

        All Johnny said on the subject was, "I don't like the thought of her staying at the ranch alone now that my dad and Paca...grandfather, have gone back to Montana. Not with that guy still on the loose."

        "Your dad didn't like the thought of it either. Roy and Joanne invited Reah to stay with them until your release, but she refused. Your sister strikes me as a very independent soul."

        "She is. Always has been. And stubborn as a hard headed mule, too."

        "She sounds like her brother in that respect."

        "Her brother's not stubborn. He simply lives by his convictions."

        "I argued enough with her brother seven years ago when he was in my paramedic training class. I'm not going to argue with him today."

        Johnny grinned. " 'Cause you know you'll lose?"

        "Because I know I won't get anywhere. Which, by the way, is quite different from losing."

        John chuckled as he thought back to the brash, bold young man he'd been. Not that he still wasn't brash and bold to a large degree, but as he approached his thirty second birthday time and maturity had tempered a portion of that aspect of his personality.

        "Now, onto the third and last condition of your release. I want you to schedule a few sessions with an acquaintance of mine."

        Johnny's brow furrowed. Though he did his best to act like he had no idea what the doctor was talking about, Kelly knew he understood perfectly.

        "Sessions? What do you mean? Sessions with who?"

        "Doctor Umbridge. Stanford Umbridge. He's..."

        "I know who he is. He's the hospital shrink."

        "Spoken with your usual tact. But yes, he is."

        Johnny's eyes darted to a corner of the room.

        "I don't need to see him."

        "Judging by the nightmares you've been having, and how little you've been eating, I tend to disagree with your opinion, Doctor Gage."

        John's eyes met Brackett's once more. The doctor could see the anger in the brown orbs.

        "Look, Kelly, it's up to me to decide who I see and who I don't."

        In all the years they'd known one another, John Gage had never called Kelly Brackett by his first name. That act alone spoke volumes to the doctor. He knew Johnny was furious with him while at the same time silently telling him he had no right to make a visit with Stanford Umbridge a condition of his release. But Brackett did have that right, and he planned to see it followed through.

        "Sorry, John, but that's the deal. You see Umbridge before you're released, or you remain a guest of Rampart General."

        "You can't keep me here. If I decide to walk out right this second there's nothing you can do about it."

        "No, there's not. Except declare you unfit for duty when the time comes you're ready to return to work."

        Brackett watched the muscle in Johnny's jaw twitch and saw his right hand clench so tight the knuckles turned stark white. John glared at the doctor a long minute, then transferred that glare to the window and the world beyond.

        Kelly allowed the silence to linger for five full minutes. When he thought he was no longer in danger of being decked, he said quietly, "Johnny, I'm sorry. I know you're angry with me, but I'm your doctor...and your friend. I can't do any less for you than what I know is best for your overall health. You've been through a lot. Both in recent weeks and in the...past. You need to let some of what you're feeling out. If you keep bottling it up eventually the cork is going to blow. You can't keep running..."

        Johnny swiveled to face the doctor.

        "Just because my father told you things that are none of your goddamn business doesn't mean you have the right to sit there and judge me or the choices I've made. I didn't run from anything. I've never run from anything in my life. I've faced what I've had to and then I've moved on. Period. End of story."

        "Moving on doesn't mean pretending something never happened."

        "I don't pretend! I know something happened! I know it better than you, better than my dad, better than my sister, better than the whole frickin' world! But get this straight, Doctor Brackett, it's my business and my business alone! Do you understand?"

        There was a long pause before Kelly nodded. He pushed his chair back and stood.

        "I understand. Nonetheless, you'll see Doctor Umbridge or you'll be finding
another line of work because I won't declare you fit for duty until Umbridge gives me the go ahead."

        The doctor turned for the door. It had no more than closed behind him when he heard the plastic water pitcher crash against it. The rookie cop who was standing guard raised an eyebrow.

        "Is Mr. Gage okay in there?"

        The young man wasn't sure what to make of Kelly Brackett's quiet reply.

        "No, he's not okay. But until he reaches that same conclusion there's not much more I can do."

        Brackett walked the length of the corridor and entered the elevator. The cop was left standing outside John Gage's room, listening as anything that wasn't bolted to the floor was thrown against the walls. The rookie sat back down in his chair with a long suffering sigh.

        Geez, I hope I never get another assignment like this.

___________________________________        

        
        One week later Kelly Brackett watched from his office window as Reah Gage and Dixie McCall wheeled Johnny to the Land Rover that was parked at the curb outside the Emergency Room entrance. Ever one of Rampart's most popular paramedics, Johnny's departure drew a crowd of well wishers. Kelly spotted Joe Early and Mike Morton amongst the nurses, physical therapists, and candy stripers. Brackett himself chose not to make an appearance. Johnny was barely speaking to him these days, so he thought it best if he stayed away from the gathering that brought the familiar lopsided grin of delight to the paramedic's face.

        Kelly turned at the knock on his door.

        "Yes?"

        The red head of Stanford Umbridge poked into the room. "Hey, Kel. Got a minute?"

        "Sure, Stan. Come on in."

        The lanky doctor entered and closed the door behind him. He walked over to Kelly who was still standing at the window. His eyes caught sight of the farewell party going on outside.

        "By looking at that smile I'd say this is one happy day for John Gage."

        Brackett nodded. "I'd say so."

        "Unlike your paramedic, you don't look too thrilled about it."

        "Oh, I'm happy for him. It's just that within two days he'll be doing everything he's been told not to. The words 'take it easy and rest' and 'John Gage' hardly go together in the same sentence despite my best efforts."

        "Well, if nothing else you got him to come see me."

        "Yes, if nothing else I did accomplish that. And without breaking doctor/patient confidentiality, can you tell me how your sessions went?"

        "They went well. As a matter of fact I have to say John has a good handle on this entire situation."

        Kelly couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

        "You would?"

        "Yes. His utmost concern was keeping Jennifer DeSoto safe. Because he was able to do that everything that has happened since, from his injuries to having his picture appear in the paper, is of little consequence to him. Of course, every one of us would react differently to what he went through. But if he's at peace with all that's happened because he was able to keep his best friend's daughter alive, then I'd say he'll have no future problems with any of this."

        "Did he talk to you about anything else?"

        "Anything else?"

        "Yes. About another...assault he experienced eleven years ago?"

        "No. Why? Was he supposed to?"

        Brackett folded his arms across his chest as his gaze returned to the parking lot. The crowd was gone now save for Dixie and Joe Early. They were waving goodbye as Reah pulled the Land Rover away from the curb.

        "I thought he understood that he was supposed to, but then this is John Gage we're talking about."

        "What do you mean? Did I miss something?"

        "No, Stan, you didn't miss a thing. Johnny did exactly what I told him he had to,...have some sessions with you. I didn't tell him in so many words what he had to discuss, but he knew damn good and well what I expected of him."

        "Kel, I'm only getting more confused here, rather than the other way around."

        Brackett turned away from the window and offered the man a small smile.

        "I'm sorry. It's...nothing. If Johnny chose not to share it with you then it's not my place to, either. As much as I'd like to kick him in the seat of his skinny ass right now, I know how I'd feel if our positions were reversed and someone broke my confidence regarding a very personal and private matter. I just thought..."

        "Thought what?"

        "I thought he trusted me enough to do what I asked of him."

        "Though I'm still in the dark as to what's going on, Kel, I can tell you this. Sometimes it's not a matter of trust. Sometimes it's a matter of having the emotional strength to open Pandora's Box and face whatever comes out of there. Maybe John just isn't ready to do that."

        "And what if he never is?"

        "I can't answer that question. Maybe no harm will come of it. But then again, maybe not. Regardless, you have my report. I can't give you one reason not to declare him fit for duty once he's recovered from his physical injuries."

        Brackett thanked the man for his time. He watched Stan exit the office, then moved to sit behind his desk. In a way Kelly Brackett was pleased by Stan's findings. The last thing Kelly wanted to do was keep Johnny from returning to work. He was one of the best paramedics in L.A. County, and he loved his job. Those two things alone made him a valuable asset to Rampart General. On the other hand, Kelly didn't like the thought of what Pandora's Box might contain should it ever open when Johnny didn't have the strength to slam shut.

        Before Brackett could mull the situation over any further he was paged. He rushed out of the office, all concerns for John Gage pushed to the back of his mind as Dixie directed him to Treatment Room 3.

        

Chapter 37

        
        Johnny had been home from the hospital for one month when he was given clearance by Doctor Brackett to return to work. The two men had maintained a cool, professional politeness with one another throughout John's physical that Tuesday morning in early June. Johnny didn't shoot the bull with Brackett after the physical ended like was normal for him, or go in search of Dixie or any other nurse. He simply accepted the papers the doctor handed him that he'd have to give to Hank Stanley the next day, said a quick, "Thanks," and walked out the door.

        Dixie looked up from her own paperwork as Kelly passed by the nurse's station.

        "Was that Johnny I just saw leaving?"

        "Yeah. He came in for his physical. He's going back to work tomorrow."

        "That's wonderful." Dixie smiled. "I'm so happy for him. And Roy,...well, Roy will be thrilled to have his partner back. I have a strong suspicion Craig Brice is trying the infamous DeSoto patience."

        "Brice can do that to a person," Kelly acknowledged, though Dixie could tell his thoughts weren't on his words.

        "Kel? What's wrong? Is everything okay with Johnny? You don't expect him to have any further problems, do you?"

        Dixie barely heard the man's mumbled, "None that he'll tell me about," before he turned and walked to his office.

        The nurse shrugged her shoulders.

        I wonder what he means by that?
        

___________________________________        

        
        It was eight o'clock that night when Johnny stepped out from underneath the spray of a hot shower. Though he was loath to admit it, the additional month of recuperation at home had done him good. Reah had been a big help to him the first week he was out of hospital, and while he greatly enjoyed her company, before the second week came to a close he sent her back to Montana. He knew the longer she remained with him the longer she went without a steady income. Aside from the fact that her career, her boyfriend, and her entire life was back in the state they'd been born in. But that's not where Johnny's life was, and though his father was still encouraging him to come for a visit each time they talked on the phone, the paramedic kept putting the man off. At least now, with his return to work, Johnny had a more viable excuse to give his dad.

        Just like Johnny knew it would be, his ranch proved to be the best physical therapy for him. Within two hours of Reah's departure John began doing all the things Brackett told him not to, like mending fences, riding horses, and putting up hay. But what Kelly Brackett and Reah Gage didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Nor hurt Johnny either. As a matter of fact, the hard labor only helped him return to full health both mentally and physically. The nightmares were a thing of the past, too. He'd told Brackett they would be once he was off medication and out of the hospital, but Kelly Brackett could be as stubborn as John Gage himself, and had simply given the paramedic a skeptical look at that pronouncement. Regardless, Johnny had been proven right. Or at least partially right. He couldn't deny he was still experiencing vivid dreams filled with memories he'd rather forget, but at least he no longer woke up screaming Kim's name.

        John finished toweling off, then pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and faded jeans before running a brush through his wet hair. He padded through his house barefoot and bare chested. The animals were taken care of for the night. All of them, including Joe, were locked in the barn. He stopped in the kitchen and poured himself a glass of milk, then headed for the living room. He turned on the TV as he passed it, then settled in his recliner.

        The paramedic's mind wandered as he watched the Dodgers game. He knew his family and friends were concerned for his safety, and he had a strong suspicion that his father and Roy talked on the phone at least once a week. But there had been no sign of the man who had tried to kidnap Jennifer, and as far as Johnny knew no other little girls in the area had gone missing or had been found murdered. Mark Bellmen had pulled police protection off Johnny the day he was released from the hospital, which was fine with him. The last thing he wanted once he was free from the confines of Rampart was to be followed around by a cop.

        Johnny's only desire now was that law enforcement officials find the guy before another child died. Other than that, his remaining concern was for Chris and Jennifer. Roy kept assuring him that the kids had come out of the incident remarkably unscathed. Perhaps the sessions they'd had with Doctor St. Clair had helped. Or perhaps they were just young enough, and resilient enough, to bounce back from what could have been a situation of tragic proportions.

        John gave an involuntary shudder as he thought of what could have happened to Jennifer. He wished he'd put on a T-shirt before settling in his chair. He wrapped his arms around himself as mental images too gruesome to dwell on assaulted his brain. Now he knew why Joanne and Roy had asked him to baby-sit this past Saturday night. They'd wanted to prove to him that they still trusted him with their children, and more than likely knew he needed to discover for himself that he could spend time alone with the kids without anything bad happening.

        Johnny had to admit that little ploy on Joanne and Roy's part helped him a great deal. It touched him deeply that they would allow him to have the kids overnight on his ranch again. Johnny suspected the twenty-four hours that Chris and Jennifer were with him were as nerve wracking for Joanne and Roy as they had been for him. But John had done a good job of keeping his uneasiness from the children. They'd done all the things Chris and Jenny loved best, from feeding the animals, to eating at Pizza Hut, to riding the horses, though Johnny had been careful to guide the kids away from their usual trail up the mountain during this last activity. Instead they remained on his ranch, getting all the fun they needed on the acreage he owned. When Roy and Joanne arrived at noon on Sunday Johnny fired up the grill and cooked lunch. They stayed until four-thirty, the adults relaxing together on the deck while Chris and Jen roamed the ranch with Joe trailing behind them.

It was Roy's number Johnny dialed now as he picked up the phone from the end table. His partner answered it on the fifth ring. Johnny didn't have to say hello, let alone identify himself for Roy to know who he was speaking to.

        "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

        "No. I was just helping Chris build a birdhouse for his Scout project while Joanne oversees Jennifer's bath. What's up?"

        Johnny couldn't keep the smile out of his voice. "So, how sick are you of Brice?"

        "Pretty damn sick, that's how sick. Why?"

        "Well...unless you want to keep him for your partner, I'll be rejoining you in the squad tomorrow morning."

        "That's great, Johnny! Great!"

        Johnny smiled at the heart-felt enthusiasm that was voiced with considerable more emotion than Roy usually displayed.

        "So Brackett cleared you? You're okay?"

        "I'm fine. And yes, Brackett cleared me."

        "How's your shoulder?"

        "Good."

        "And your wrist?"

        "Okay."

        "And your back? It's not bothering you any more?"

        "Roy, I'm fine. Really. Gee, if I didn't know better I'd think you were looking for an excuse to keep Brice at Station 51."

        "No, no. Believe me, far from it. It's just that...I just want to make sure you're okay. You know?"

        Without Roy having to say anything else, Johnny understood what he meant. They both carried a lot of needless guilt around about the fateful camping trip. Johnny, because Roy's children had gone through so much at his expense. And Roy because he felt he could never repay his best friend for all that had been sacrificed in an effort to keep Jennifer free from harm.

        "Roy, I know. But quit worrying. Like I told you, I'm fine. You know as well as I do that Brackett wouldn't have signed the medical papers I have to give Cap tomorrow if he had any doubts about my health."

        "No, he wouldn't have," Roy conceded.

        "So like I said, I'm okay. And quit feeling guilty."

        "Johnny..."

        "Roy, let's just drop it once and for all. It happened. It's over. Everything turned out all right. The kids are healthy and happy. That's all I care about."

        "But..."

        "Look, if you're going to say something about never being able to repay me, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, just skip it. Besides, I'm sure at some point in the future you'll even the score."

        "How?"

"Oh, I don't know. Like maybe by pulling me out of a burning building, or picking my sorry butt up off the ground after I've gotten knocked down by an explosion, or pushing me out of the way of a falling beam, or--"

        "I get the message, Junior. But do me a favor, huh?"

        "What's that?"

        "Don't make me do anything like that for you on your first day back. Let's ease ourselves sloooowly and gently back into the old routine."

        Johnny laughed. "You got yourself a deal, Pally. I'll hold off on the fun until at least our second shift together."

        "Fun? You call that fun?"

        Roy sputtered mock indignities until Johnny chuckled and said, "See ya' tomorrow, Roy," then broke their connection. He was still smiling as he stood to shut off the TV and carry his empty glass to the sink. It was barely eight-thirty but he was tired. He had to report for work at eight the next morning and would be on for three days straight. He wasn't fooling himself. He knew this first stint was bound to take a lot out of him.

        Johnny walked through the house making sure the house was locked and shutting off lights. As he headed for his bedroom he never noticed the face peering through the glass of the patio doors.

        

Chapter 38

        Thanks to some quick phone calls from Roy on Tuesday night, the men of Station 51's A-shift welcomed John Gage back in style. They chipped in and purchased a cake from a local bakery that read in blue icing swirls, We Missed You, Johnny. Welcome Back. The A-shift wives rounded out the little party by sending the foods along with their husbands that they knew Johnny loved best. Hank Stanley's wife had baked two pans of lasagna, Mike Stoker's wife sent a huge casserole dish of ham and scalloped potatoes, while Roy carried in a kettle of Joanne's cheddar cheese soup along with a loaf of homemade bread. There's was no doubt the A-shift men would eat like kings for the next three days. Once again, Johnny was touched by the kindness of these people he called his closest friends.

        Of course, a John Gage Welcome Back Party couldn't be complete without a visit from the Phantom. Everyone held their breath and shot Chet dirty looks when Johnny was hit full in the face by a water balloon as he opened the kitchen cabinet that contained his coffee mug. His wet hair dripped on his uniform shirt as he slowly turned. He couldn't quite keep the smile from his face as he said, "I see the Phantom hasn't been transferred in my absence."

Chet patted one wet shoulder and assured, "Never, Gage. Never."

        Johnny had just finished changing his shirt when the klaxons sounded. He ran for the squad, and within seconds he and Roy were off on their first run of the day. Johnny watched the familiar scenery fly past as he told Roy to turn right at the next intersection. Roy must have caught the fleeting smile on his lips. He returned it with one of his own.

        "Feels good to be back, huh, Junior?"

        Johnny's smile turned to a grin. "Yeah, Roy, it feels good. It feels damn good."

        Within minutes Roy and Johnny were aiding a heart attack victim. They worked in well-synchronized rhythm as though it had been only two days since they'd last worked together, rather than two months.

__________________________________        

        The Los Angeles County Fire Department Headquarters was located in a modern office complex on Vine Street. The man waited until twelve-fifteen before entering. He had no idea how many people worked here, but surmised that during the noon hour staffing would be at its lowest.

        He climbed out of his Dodge and walked across the street. He finger combed his hair into place as he pulled open one panel of the glass double doors. He pasted a smile on his face as he entered a vast lobby that was bare of anyone save for the black receptionist sitting at large wooden desk.

        "May I help you, Sir?"

        "Can you direct me to the Personnel Department?"

        "Certainly." The woman pointed with a well-manicured fingernail painted vivid red. "Just go down this corridor to your left. Personnel is the fourth door on your right."

        "Thank you."

        He turned and followed the route the woman had indicated. As he guessed would be the case, he didn't encounter another soul. When he came to the open door marked Personnel he paused and knocked on the frame.

        A heavyset woman in her late twenties sat at a desk typing. The remaining four desks in the large room were empty.

        The woman's nameplate read Karen Cates. She pushed a strand of limp, mossy brown hair behind one ear as she smiled.

        "Hello."

        "Hi. I apologize for the intrusion, but the receptionist told me this is the personnel office."

        "It is."

        "Oh, good. Well, listen, my name is Pete Donaldson and I was recently hired on as a firefighter. I just moved my family here from Chicago. I was a firefighter there, too. I was told to come down and fill out the necessary paperwork before I report to work at Station 8."

        "All right." Karen stood and crossed to the filing cabinets. "Did you have anything sent here from Chicago?"

        "You mean my records with the department and such?"

        "Yes."

        "Uh...yeah, I did."

        "Let me find them, and from there I'll see what else I need to have you do."

        "Thanks, Karen. Thanks so much."

        The young woman returned the man's smile. Most of the firemen who
passed through this door on a daily basis ignored her. Not that she could blame them she supposed. She was ninety pounds overweight and wore glasses with lenses as thick as Coke bottles. Only a few of the men she encountered were genuinely nice to her. She fingered through the D's as Pete chatted with her.

        "You married, Karen?"

        "Me? No."

        "No? I'm surprised."

        "Surprised?"

        "An attractive woman like you still unattached? What's wrong with the guys in L.A., are they blind?"

        Karen blushed, but made no reply.

        "Hey, you don't know anything about the Longwood Elementary School do you?"

        "No, I'm sorry. I don't. Why?"

        "My kids will be starting there on Monday."

        "How many children do you have?"

        "Three. Two boys and a girl. They're a little nervous about having to start over some place new, but heck, so am I."

        "Starting over is never easy. But I'm sure you'll do fine."

        "You really think so?"

        "Sure. Why not?"

        "Oh...you know how it is. New job. New city. New house. New friends. L.A. scares me. If it wasn't that my wife's parents are getting on in years and need us out here to live close to them, I wouldn't have considered moving. I'm a Windy City boy myself. Born and raised on the south side."

        "Well, at least you won't have to fight snow in the winter."

        "That's true. But I worry, you know. For my kids' safety I mean. L.A. seems so violent. You hear so many stories. I mean heck, it wasn't that long ago one of your firemen was stabbed or something while on a camping trip."

        "Paramedic."

        "Pardon?"

        "He's a firefighter/paramedic. Johnny Gage."

        "You know him?"

        "Sure," Karen smiled, while still looking through the files. She couldn't find anything under Donaldson so had started at the very beginning of the D's assuming one of her co-workers had slipped Pete's file into the wrong spot. "Everyone knows Johnny. He's a great guy."

        "He is, huh?"

        Karen thought of the handsome, shaggy haired man who always had a big smile and kind word for her regardless of whether he ran across her at headquarters, or in the grocery store.

        "I don't know of anyone who doesn't like Johnny. He's just that kind of guy. Special. Never without a grin on his face and a joke to share."

        "Does he work at Station 8 by chance?"

        "No. He's at 51's."

        "But he's okay now? I mean, is he back to work after what happened to him?"

        "Coincidentally enough yesterday was his first day back. My understanding is that he's made a complete recovery."

        "Good for him."

        "We're all happy for him. It was so horrible. His doctor was concerned he wouldn't live the first few days he was in the hospital. And that man who attacked him...well, if he'd managed to run off with Jennifer I don't even like to think of what would have happened to her."

        "Jennifer? Was that the little girl he took on the camping trip?"

        At the odd look Karen shot him, Pete quickly added, "I read all about it in the Trib. The Chicago Tribune."

        "Wow. It made the papers all the way in Illinois?"

        "Yeah. It was big news for a few days."

        Karen shut the file drawer when she couldn't find anything under Donaldson. She wasn't ready to give up yet, and moved on to the P's thinking that someone might have filed Mr. Donaldson's records under Peters or Peterson. She didn't want him to realize she was having a problem, so attempted to cover up her actions with small talk while she crouched in front of the wide metal drawer.

        "To answer your question, yes. Jennifer was the little girl Johnny had with him. Her brother was along, too. Chris. Chris and Jennifer DeSoto. They're the children of Johnny's partner, Roy DeSoto."

        "Partner? You mean his squad partner?"

        "That's what I mean. I've worked here since I graduated from high school. That's over ten years now. I know a lot of the firemen and paramedics. I've never seen two closer than Johnny and Roy. They're more like brothers than friends. That's why it was a blessing that God was watching over Johnny and the kids that day. Johnny would have never forgiven himself if something had happened to either one of them. And if Johnny hadn't pulled through Roy would have been devastated. Absolutely devastated. Not to mention the children. I don't like to think of how broken hearted they'd have been had their 'Uncle Johnny' died."

        Karen stood, reluctantly admitting defeat.

        "I'm sorry, Mr. Donaldson, but..."

        "Pete. Please call me Pete."

        "Pete. I'm sorry, but I can't find your file in either the D's or the P's. If you'll leave your home phone number with me I'll call you as soon as I locate it. It's possible one of my co-workers has it, or that it's been misfiled in another drawer. It'll take me a little while to do a thorough search."

        The man stood. It was then that Karen noticed how tall he was. She had to crane her neck in order to meet his gaze.

        "We've only been in town a few days. Our phone isn't in service yet. How about if I stop by again tomorrow morning? In the meantime, I'll use my in-laws phone to contact department headquarters in Chicago and see if the file was ever sent. If I find out it wasn't I'll let you know."

        "That's fine. And again, I'm sorry."

        Pete smiled as he shook the woman's hand.

        "No need to be sorry, Karen. You've been very helpful. More helpful than you'll ever know."

        Karen found that last comment to be rather odd, but she didn't think any more of it after Pete left the room. After all, she had a missing file to search for.

Chapter 39

        
        It didn't take long for everyone to realize that John Gage was 'back in the saddle again,' as the expression went. Roy was probably the only person who detected how much that first seventy-two hour shift wore his partner out, but by the time they reported for work four days later Johnny looked well-rested and once again was raring to go. Even Kelly Brackett was forced to set aside his misgivings over John's mental state. On more than one occasion since Johnny's return to the job Brackett had seen the paramedic rush into Rampart with a patient while performing whatever life-saving skills were necessary with his usual efficiency, or spot Johnny as he was leaving, the younger man tossing a grin over his shoulder along with a, "See ya', Dix." If Johnny was still angry at his doctor for prying into his personal life, Brackett couldn't detect that either. But then that didn't come as a surprise to the physician. Anyone who knew John Gage knew he could be quick to anger, but was also quick to forgive.

        Other than being tired after his first shift back on duty, Johnny felt good. The first call he and Roy had gone out on was both exciting and nerve-wracking, but Johnny supposed that was to expected considering he'd been off work for two months. But once he'd proven to himself that he still had what it took to do all aspects of his job a weight was lifted from his shoulders that he'd never let anyone, not even Roy, know existed. After all, it isn't every day a person gets hacked with a knife while at the same time being forced to protect a child's life. The physical and emotional tolls of that event had been many. But now, three weeks after his return to work, Johnny was finally beginning to put the assault behind him. He still wished he could have stopped his attacker from fleeing that night. His heart still ached each time he thought of Carrie Wrightman and the fate that had befallen her. However; he'd also come to realize he had the right to feel joy over the fact that Jennifer was still alive. It didn't seem fair somehow, that one little girl lived while another died, but that's just the way life turned out more often than not. What was fair and what wasn't didn't seem to matter to whomever it was that controlled the universal happenings.

        Johnny parked his Land Rover at the side of his house. Before he even climbed out Joe was barking a greeting. The dog ran up to the vehicle's door, his tail stirring up dust from the gravel driveway as it thumped with excitement.

        John exited the Rover and bent to pet his dog. When he was working he paid Bob Emery to feed and water his animals for him and lock Joe up in the barn for the night. Bob would come by every morning and let the dog out for the day while also retrieving Johnny's mail and putting it on his kitchen table for him.

        The paramedic enjoyed the feel of the early evening sun on his back while he talked softly to Joe and scratched the dog behind his ears. He thought of all the things he wanted to do during his four days off that ranged from laundry, to mowing grass, to riding Cody.

        Joe followed Johnny to the side door. John fished his keys out of his pants pocket and let himself in the house.

        "I'll be out in a few minutes," Johnny told the dog as he shut the door. Joe sat down, waiting faithfully as though he'd understood every word.

        John kicked off his tennis shoes in the laundry room, then walked down the short hallway that led to the kitchen. The house had that closed up feeling it always possessed whenever its owner had been gone more than a day. Johnny opened the window above the sink and the sliding glass door in the dining area. He paused as he passed the table, picking up his mail. He paid little attention to the bills for the time being. He'd go through them later and put them in date order according to when they were due. The junk mail he tossed back on the table. He'd throw those envelopes in the garbage can without bothering to open any of them. Next he came to three personal pieces of mail. He saw Hank Stanley's return address in the upper left hand corner of the first one. He knew what was inside before he even opened the envelope. An invitation to Cap's annual Fourth Of July picnic was enclosed with the date, time, and the request to bring a dish to pass written in Grace Stanley's neat cursive. This year the A-shift was scheduled to work on the Fourth, so the get together would be held the Sunday preceding the holiday.

        Johnny could tell the second piece of mail was written by a child. The return address on this one said Christopher DeSoto. Inside was an invitation to the birdhouse judging contest and exhibition Chris's Scout troop was hosting Tuesday evening of the following week. Johnny made a mental note to let Roy know he'd be there.

        The third envelope was also addressed by what looked to be a child's hand. Unlike Chris's, the letters on this one were printed.

        I suppose Jen's Brownie Troop has something going on she wants me to come to.

        But the piece of white paper inside the envelope had nothing to do with the Girl Scouts. Johnny gripped the back of a chair when the kitchen suddenly spun in a wild circle around him.
        
        Help me, Uncle Johnny. Please don't let the bad man get me. Help me.
If he hurts me, it will be all your fault. Help me, please.

        Johnny slowly sank to the floor as he read the note through a second time.
He didn't know he long he sat there before he finally made it back to his feet using the table for support. He groped his away to the kitchen counter where he pulled out a drawer. He grabbed the phone book and looked up the number for the Detective Division of the Los Angeles Police Department. When a woman answered the phone he had to swallow hard to keep his voice from shaking.

        "I'd need to speak to Detective Bellmen please."

        "Is this an emergency or may I take a message?"

        Johnny looked down at the letter.

        "I...it's an emergency. I need to talk to him right away."

        Johnny didn't remember giving the woman his name when she requested it, but he assumed he must have because within seconds Mark Bellmen's voice came on the line.

        The detective sounded jovial and upbeat when he said, "Hi, John. How are you?" almost as though he was glad Johnny's unidentified attacker hadn't resurfaced in the L.A. area, thereby making the man some other cop's problem.

        Mark Bellmen's tone took a quick dive, however. When Johnny finished explaining the reason for his call he said, "Don't throw the envelope away, and don't touch it or the letter again. Give me directions to your place. I'll be there as soon as I can."

        Troy Anders looked up from his paperwork as Mark stood and slipped into his wrinkled suit coat.

        "What's going on?"

        "That was John Gage."

        Troy had to think a moment before he could the name with a specific case.

        "The paramedic who was stabbed a few months back?"

        "Yeah. He just got a letter in the mail."

        "Letter? What kind of letter?"

        "The threatening kind, Troy Boy," Bellmen said as he hurried out of the squad room. "The goddamn threatening kind."

___________________________________        

        Mark Bellmen was at Johnny's ranch two hours that night. A quick call to Bob Emery confirmed the man had pulled that particular piece of mail out of Johnny's mailbox, but he couldn't recall the exact day it came. To be on the safe side, Mark toured John's house and ranch with him. Johnny was not able to detect any sign of a break-in or disturbance.

        After sealing the letter and envelope in a plastic bag Mark slid the items into the right side pocket of his suit coat. He'd turn them over to the crime lab, though he doubted they'd get any fingerprints that would be of use. By now who knew how many people had touched the envelope when you took into account the postal workers who would have handled it, though maybe they'd get lucky and get something off the letter other than Johnny's prints.

        Mark stood by Johnny's front door as he got ready to leave.

        "Let me ask you one more question before I go. I know it's difficult to think of ourselves as being the victim of a practical joke, but could this letter have been someone's idea of fun? Maybe a friend of yours, or a co-worker who doesn't quite understand the gravity of the situation? Or simply has a warped sense of humor?"

        Johnny shook his head while giving a firm, "No." The only friend he had who played practical jokes was Chet, but there was no way Chet would do something this cruel or stupid so Johnny didn't even bother to mention the Irish fireman's name to Bellmen.

        "Speaking of practical jokes, your name was in the paper after Kessler broke the story of what happened," the detective reminded Johnny. "This could be a prank on the part of some sick SOB who read the article. Believe me, it wouldn't be the first time something like this has happened."

        "Maybe so. But I wasn't referred to as 'Uncle Johnny' anywhere in that article. That's something only Roy's kids call me."

        "No one else at all? Just Roy's children?"

        "Just Chris and Jen," Johnny confirmed. "My sister isn't married. I don't have any nieces or nephews."

        Bellmen thought back to the events of the camping trip as told to him by Chris and Jennifer DeSoto.

        "So during the attack, if one of the DeSoto kids would have called your name, they would have said 'Uncle Johnny.' "

        "That's right. They would have. They never call me anything but that."

        Bellmen nodded. "I see."

        Without the detective saying anything more than those two words, Johnny knew the odds of this letter having come from his attacker had just increased.

        Mark opened the front door. "I'll call you as soon as I know anything."

        Bellmen was stopped on his way out of the house by Johnny's voice.

        "Just...just do whatever you have to in order to see this guy doesn't strike again. Doesn't hurt another little girl because he's pissed at me."

        "John, I promise you I'll do everything in my power to prevent that."

        Johnny wanted more than promises that night, he wanted a guarantee. But as he locked up the house and headed for bed he knew he wouldn't get one. Just like he knew he wouldn't get any sleep.

Chapter 40

        
        Roy DeSoto wasn't certain when he first began to notice a change in his partner's demeanor. He supposed it was when he overheard Johnny telling Cap that he wouldn't be able to make it to this year's Fourth Of July picnic. When Hank asked him why Johnny said, "I've already made plans for that Sunday with a woman I'm seeing. I...forgot about the picnic until the invitation arrived. Sorry."

        "No problem, pal. Though we'll miss you. If your plans change feel free to stop on by. Bring your date, too, if you want to."

        "Thanks, Cap."

        Two hours later, as they returned from a supply run to Rampart, Roy asked, "Who's the new woman in your life?"

        "New woman?"

        "Yeah."

        "There's no new woman."

        "Oh. But I thought..." Roy let his sentence trail off, suddenly aware if he revealed anything else he'd also reveal he'd been eavesdropping, as unintentional as that act was.

        "You thought what?"

        "Nothing. I just assumed that when you were in the hospital you came in contact with a whole new group of nurses you hadn't met before."

        "I did."

        "And?"

        "I don't know," Johnny shrugged while turning to look out the window. "I'm just not interested right at the moment I guess."

        Roy had never known John Gage not to be interested in women. He not only found this odd, but also wondered why Johnny had felt the need to lie to Cap when giving a reason for his absence from the picnic.

        Despite his curiosity, Roy let the subject drop there.

        Guess it's none of my business. Maybe he just feels like doing things around his ranch that Sunday but didn't want to hurt Cap's feelings by saying that.

        It was right after the picnic that Roy began to notice other changes in his partner. Johnny looked tired all the time, even when reporting for duty at the beginning of a new shift. He was also quiet, which for Johnny usually meant one of two things. Either he wasn't feeling good, or he was upset about something. Three times over the course of three days Roy asked him if he was okay, and three times Roy had been told, "I'm fine."

        Roy tried a different tactic one day in early July when they were alone in the locker room.

        "Johnny...look...I don't mean to pry, but is everything okay?"

        John glanced up from tying his shoe. "Okay?"

        "Yeah. You've been awful quiet the last couple shifts we've worked, and you look tired. You keep telling me you feel okay so if...well, if something's bothering you and you need a friendly ear you know I'm always available."

        Johnny gave his partner a small smile.

        "I know. And thanks. But nothing's bothering me."

        Roy had enough tact not to call his friend a liar, but nonetheless he had no doubt Johnny wasn't telling him the truth. If he had to put into words what he was sensing from his partner, Roy would be forced to say Johnny was emotionally pulling himself away from not only his best friend, but from everyone around him. Even Chet mentioned Johnny had refused two different offers to go fishing on recent days off, and Marco had said Johnny had turned down the chance to go to a Dodger's game with him and Chet the previous week, even though the tickets had been given to Marco by a friend who worked at the stadium.

        And then there was the invitations to dinner from Joanne that Johnny politely refused by saying he was "busy," and the apology he asked Roy to give Chris for not attending the eleven year old's birdhouse exhibition.

        It's not like Johnny to turn down one of Joanne's meals, or to not attend anything my kids are involved in. What's going on with you, partner?

        That was a question Roy would ask himself more than once as July progressed and he saw the tell-tale signs of stress and worry take its toll on Johnny. His partner was still efficiently performing his job, though how Roy had no idea. Every time he turned around Johnny was popping two aspirin in his mouth or drinking a glass of milk.

        Aspirin for a headache. Milk to soothe and coat an upset stomach.

        Roy had contemplated talking to Hank Stanley or Kelly Brackett, but knew he'd be crossing the line with Johnny if he did. The damage he'd inflict on their friendship by going to either of those men behind John's back might very well be irrevocable.

        As long as he can perform his job I've got no right to say anything. Damnit, Johnny, I wished you give me some kind of a clue as to what's going on. If you're not feeling well then see Brackett. Don't be afraid of what he might tell you, just go get a physical for crying out loud. And if something's got you worried or upset, then talk to someone. It doesn't have to be me. Just...just get it off your chest.

        Unbeknownst to Roy his partner was talking to someone. And on a regular basis. Mark Bellmen. Because more letters had arrived.
        

___________________________________        

        He had never imagined taunting John Gage would be this much fun. The downside was he didn't get to see Gage's reaction first hand. But soon. That would come soon.

        He leaned over the battered desk in his motel room and began to print with a thick pencil in a childish hand.

        Dear Uncle Johnny,

        Can Jennifer DeSoto come out and play?

        

Chapter 41

        
        It was a Wednesday afternoon in mid-July when the phone rang in Roy DeSoto's kitchen. He was out in the back yard, playing a game of catch with Chris and a neighbor boy when Joanne appeared at the patio doors.

        "Roy! Johnny's on the phone!"

        Roy turned to the boys. "You guys carry on without me."

        "Dad, wait."

        "Yeah?"

        "Tell Uncle Johnny me and Jen want him to come over. We haven't seen him since we stayed at his ranch that Saturday night you and Mom went out and that was ages ago."

        "I'll tell him. Maybe he'll come for a cookout the next weekend we have off."

        "That would be great!"

        Roy wished Johnny could see the delight on Chris's face. Possibly that would pull him out of whatever funk he was currently in that was causing him to detach himself from his friends. As a matter of fact, this phone call surprised Roy, now that he thought of it. He couldn't remember the last time Johnny had called him when they were off-duty.

        Roy accepted the glass of cold lemonade Joanne handed him as he stepped into the kitchen.

        "Thanks, hon," he said softly as set his baseball mitt on the counter and picked up the phone.

        "Hey, Johnny."

        "Hi, Roy."

        "What's up?"

        All Roy heard was silence.

        "Johnny? Are you still there?"

        "Uh...yeah. Yeah, I'm still here. Sorry. Listen...I know this is kinda short notice, but I need to talk to you and Joanne. Do you think you guys could come out here tonight? Say around seven?"

        "I think so. Let me check with Joanne though, to make certain we don't have any plans."

        Roy put his hand over the phone's mouthpiece. "Johnny wants us to come out to his place this evening. Are we free?"

        "Sure. The kids will kill us if we say no."

        Roy smiled his agreement as he resumed his conversation with his partner.

        "Joanne says we're free. And she says the kids will kill us if we say no."

        "Oh. Well...I hate to ask this, but could you get someone to watch the kids? Not bring them I mean?"

        "Not bring them?"

        This was the first time in all the years Roy had known Johnny that the younger man had ever asked Roy not to bring his kids over.

        "Yeah. I just...I need to talk to you and Joanne alone."

        "Okay. Well, I'm sure we can work something out."

        Joanne threw Roy a puzzled look from where she stood at the counter beginning her supper preparations. Roy held up one finger, indicating he'd fill her in after he hung up.

        "If we can't find someone to watch them I'll call you back," Roy said to his partner. "Otherwise I'll see you at seven."

        "All right. See you then."

        Before the blond man could ask any further questions Johnny broke the connection. Roy stood staring at the phone for a few seconds before finally hanging it up.

        "What was that all about?"

        "I don't know. Johnny wants to talk to you and me alone. Without the kids there."

        "Do you think something might have happened to his dad or grandfather? Or to Reah? Could one of them be sick? You said he's been awfully quiet lately. And he didn't come to Hank's picnic, and he refuses my dinner invitations, and he didn't come to Chris's--"

        "I know. But to tell you the truth your guess is as good as mine. He sure isn't telling me anything."

        "Evidently that's what tonight's about."

        "Evidently."

        "So, what do we do about the kids?"

        Roy was already dialing the phone. "We call my mother and remind her she's been wanting to take them to dinner and a movie. Then we don't tell Chris or Jenny where we're going."

        "No," Joanne chuckled. "We definitely don't tell the kids we're going to Uncle Johnny's without them."

        The woman began putting the food away she'd gotten out. By Roy's end of the conversation she could tell his mother was more than happy to have the children for a few hours that evening. As long as she and Roy had to go out, they might as well treat themselves to dinner in-between dropping the kids off and going to Johnny's.

        It wasn't lost on Joanne that her husband was preoccupied for the remainder of the afternoon. She was glad when four o'clock came and they loaded the kids into the car for the trip to Grandma DeSoto's. If nothing else Roy now had something to concentrate on besides Johnny. Rush hour traffic. Or at least until Chris spoke up from the backseat.

        "Dad, what did Uncle Johnny want when he called?"

        Roy's eyes slid to Joanne before flicking to the rearview mirror.

        "He had a question about work."

        "Oh. Well, did you invite him over for a cookout?"

        "I forgot, Chris. But I will. I promise."

        "Yeah, Daddy, invite him over," Jennifer urged. "Uncle Johnny must be missing us something terrible. It's been so long since we've seen him."

        "I'm sure he is, Jen."

        Roy was relieved when he pulled in the driveway of the three bedroom bungalow he'd grown up in. The neighborhood had been built during the roaring 20's. The homes were now considered old, but one wouldn't know it by looking at them. The people who lived here still took pride in ownership.

        Roy's mother came out of the house to greet him and his family. As hugs were exchanged the paramedic couldn't help but think of the questions his kids had peppered him with in the car, and then a rhyme his mother had taught him when he was a child.

        Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.

        Roy and Joanne made a hasty departure. All their children knew was that they were going out to dinner and would be back by nine to pick them up.

        Actually, it would be after ten o'clock that night before Joanne and Roy retrieved their children. They stayed at Johnny's a lot longer than they'd expected to, never imagining the news he was about to tell them.
        

Chapter 42

        
        John Gage was pacing the length of his deck when Roy and Joanne pulled in his driveway. He didn't trot down the stairs to greet them like he normally would have. He simply stood at the railing, waiting for them to exit their vehicle.

        Joanne bent to pet Joe who had arrived at her car door before she could get out. The dog followed the couple up the stairs of the deck. Joanne and Roy exchanged puzzled looks when Johnny didn't even say hello. He simply nodded, then held the sliders open while indicating to his guests to have a seat at the table.

        "No, Joe," he told the Malamute when he, too, tried to enter the house. The dog remained sitting on the deck gazing in through the glass with an expression Joanne found comical.

        "I think he's looking for Chris and Jenny," she said without thinking.

        "Sorry," John apologized as he sat down. "I didn't mean to inconvenience you. I hope you found someone to take them without any trouble."

        "My mom," Roy replied. "And don't worry, it wasn't an inconvenience. She's been wanting them to come over for a few weeks now. We just hadn't gotten around to making a date with her."

        Unlike was normal for Johnny, he didn't ask Roy how his mother was, or offer his guests a soda, beer, or glass of juice. Joanne studied the man sitting across from her. Smoky circles rimmed his eyes, and his mouth was pulled in a tight, straight line that spoke of underlying tension and dread.

        He doesn't look like he's slept in weeks. And he's so thin. Almost as thin as when he first got out of the hospital. How could Roy or Doctor Brackett not realize he's lost weight? Why does it always take a woman to notice these kinds of things?

        Joanne watched as Johnny drew idle circles on the surface of the table with his index finger. Every few seconds he'd risk a glance at either her or Roy, as if he was trying to work up the courage to say something. Joanne was well aware Roy had the patience to wait Johnny out half the night if need be, but she didn't. She was worried about him and wanted to get to the bottom of this summons. Now.

        "Johnny, what's wrong?" The woman asked. "Why did you call us to come over here?"

        When John didn't do more than look at Joanne through his bangs she tried again.

        "Are you sick? Or is there something wrong with your father or grandfather? Something we can help you with? Is Reah all--"

        Joanne felt her husband's hand on her arm. When she turned to look at him he gave her subtle shake of his head. She'd been married to him long enough to read his thoughts.

        Don't spook him, Joanne. He'll tell us when he's good and ready. Just give him the time he needs to get his thoughts together.

        When Johnny finally spoke he started by answering Joanne's questions.

        "No, I'm not sick. And no, there's nothing wrong with my family. Everyone's fine. I,...I asked both of you to come over tonight because...well because something's been happening to me for the past month that now affects the two of you."

        "Happening to you?" Roy asked. "What? And how does it affect us?"

        Johnny's eyes dropped back to the table as though he was ashamed of what he was about to reveal. As though he blamed himself in some way for what he had to tell Roy and Joanne.

        "I...I've been getting letters."

        "Letters?" Joanne questioned when Johnny didn't elaborate.

        "Yeah. Threatening...threatening letters."

        Roy could feel the acid start to churn in his stomach. He suddenly wished he'd bypassed that Italian restaurant Joanne suggested they eat at. He had a feeling he knew the answer to his question before he asked it.

        "Threatening letters from who, Johnny?"

        "I...they've never been signed. But Bellmen thinks they're from him." Johnny raised his eyes from the table to take in the couple he called his best friends. "From the guy on the mountain."

        "Is that what you think, too?"

        Johnny's only answer for his partner was a nod of his head. He stood and walked over to the same drawer where he kept his phone books. He pulled out five sheets of paper. He returned to the table and sat down.

        "These are photocopies of the letters. Bellmen has the originals. He has them numbered in the order I got them. The last one came in today's mail. Go ahead. Read 'em."

        Joanne took the letters Johnny pushed toward her. She didn't have to put them in order, John had already done that. She shared the first one with Roy, the two of them reading it silently.

        Help me, Uncle Johnny. Please don't let the bad man get me. Help me.
If he hurts me, it will be all your fault. Help me, please.
        
John refused to meet the couple's eyes when there was a long pause before they moved onto the second letter.

        
        Uncle Johnny, I still need your help. Why haven't you come for me?

        Roy felt anger burn deep inside on behalf of his partner as Joanne held the third letter up. How dare that bastard torment Johnny like this.

        Carrie Wrightman was my friend, Uncle Johnny. I'm sad now 'cause she's dead. You're a paramedic. Why didn't you save her?

        
        Joanne could hardly hold back her tears as she reached for the fourth letter.

        Oh, Uncle Johnny, so many other little girls are going to die. I just know it Can't you help them please? Send all the firemen if you have to.

        It was the fifth letter that made Joanne gasp and caused Roy to squeeze his eyes shut with shock and disbelief.
        
        Dear Uncle Johnny, Can Jennifer DeSoto come out and play?

        "I'm sorry," Johnny murmured as he gazed at the stricken couple. "I'm so sorry."

        It took Roy a moment to get himself together enough to make a reply.

        "Don't," he barked, sounding far more angry and stern than he meant to. Roy softened his tone, his anger certainly wasn't directed at his partner. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault. None of it. You have no control over what this bastard does. None. Absolutely none. But I want you tell me one thing."

        "What?"

        "Why did you keep all this from me?"

        "I...I didn't want you to worry. Bellmen thought...and still thinks...they have a pretty good chance of catching him now that he's made contact."

        "Have they identified him?" Joanne asked. "Have they been able to get his fingerprints?"

        "No. To both your questions."

        "Then how do they think they're going to catch him? What are they going to do? Wait until that madman grabs my little girl off the street and does the same things to her he did to Carrie Wrightman? Is that what they're waiting for? Is that what it's going to take before..."

        Roy put his arm around his wife and pulled her close. He didn't know what was worse, Joanne's upset, or the stricken look on Johnny's face because he was blaming himself for it.

        "Jo, calm down. Please. I know you're upset. So am I. We'll talk to Bellmen. See what he can tell us and what he thinks we should do."

        "Get out of L.A."

        Roy looked at his partner. "What?"

        "Get Joanne and the kids out of L.A. Now. That's what Bellmen's going to tell you to do. He and I have already talked about it. Don't let anyone know where they're going, but get them out."

        Roy didn't have to think twice about that suggestion. Joanne's parents lived in San Diego. She had been planning a two week stay with them in August before the kids returned to school. He looked at his wife.

        "Would it matter to your folks if you and the kids visited them now?"

        "I doubt it. We can see the zoo, and Sea World, and whatever else they have planned in July just as easily as in August. I'll call them when we get home."

        Roy nodded his agreement. He and Johnny didn't have to return to work until Friday morning. He could drive Joanne and the kids to her parents tomorrow. He turned his attention to his partner once more.

        "Is this...these letters, why you haven't been coming to our house? Or going anywhere else someone invites you?"

        "Yeah. I just...I don't know if the guy's following me or not, though Bellmen doesn't think so. They've had a cop tailing me the last few weeks. Regardless, I didn't want to lead him to your house, or risk him getting a glimpse of Jennifer in Cap's back yard. I...I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I know you're pissed at me and I don't blame you. But until this last letter arrived I thought it was just between the guy and me. Bellmen even said the letters might be coming from a practical joker. Or a copy catter. But when he used Jennifer's name, and included her last name, it really scared me."

        Roy could understand why. It really scared him, too. Yes, they had assumed the attacker might know Jennifer's first name depending on how long he'd been observing the campers that day on the mountain. But up until this letter had arrived they'd been unaware he knew her last name. Now he had a way of tracking her down if he was so inclined.

        When neither Roy or Joanne said anything Johnny used his thumb to indicate to the phone.

        "Go ahead and call your folks from here, Joanne. You can use the phone in my bedroom if you want to. This way you can talk to them without the kids overhearing."

        Joanne thought Johnny's suggestion was a good one. She pushed her chair back and stood. John looked so forlorn as she passed by that she stopped to give him a hug. Before her arms made it completely around his shoulders, and before she had a chance to assure him she didn't blame him for this newest set of events, he shrugged away from her and ordered, "Don't." He bit back the lump in his throat. "Please."

        The woman knew Johnny was blaming himself for the fear she and Roy now had to live with. For whatever reason he couldn't except any comfort she had to offer. She hoped that later, before she left, he was ready to hear what she had to say. For now she gave him a kiss on the top of his head before turning to walk through the living room, then to the bedrooms at the back of the house. She was gone several minutes before Johnny spoke to his partner.

        "I'll be telling Cap about all this on Friday. Then I'm going to request a transfer."

        "You're going to what?"

        "You heard me."

        "Yeah, I did. But no, you're not."

        "Look, Roy, if this guy finds out you're Jenny's father there's no telling what he'll..."

        "That's a risk I'm willing to take."

        For the first time since Roy had arrived Johnny showed an emotion other than sorrow or guilt. His eyes flashed his anger.

        "Well it's not one I'm willing to take! If he hurts you, or your family, I'll never forgive myself. You know that! It'll be better if I'm working at another station. And better if I don't come by your house anymore. You shouldn't come by here either."

        "Oh, Johnny, come on. Be reasonable. Yes, I agree with you to a point. Getting Joanne and the kids out of L.A. is the smart thing to do right now. But you transferring to another station at a time when you need your friends the most...no. No way. Absolutely not. I won't hear of it."

        "Regardless of whether you'll hear of it or not, you're not the person who has the final say-so."

        "Then I'll talk to Cap myself. I'll tell him,"

        Johnny slammed his fist on the table.

        "No! Just stay out of it! What I ask of Cap and what I don't is my business, not yours!"

        "Not this time, partner. Not this time."

        Johnny gave a growl of frustration as he shoved his chair back and stood. He stomped over to the patio doors and looked out at the fading light. He raked a hand through his hair just like Roy knew he would. Roy let the silence linger between them until he was fairly certain Johnny had calmed down.

        "John...please. Don't travel this road alone. As your friend...as your best friend, I'm asking you not to. We've both said we're the closest thing to brothers either one of us will ever have. If you were my brother I wouldn't let you walk out at a time like this, nor would I walk out on you, no matter how much potential danger I might be in."

        Johnny didn't turn around when he said quietly, "It's not just you I worry about, Roy. It's Joanne and the kids."

        "I know. But Joanne won't allow me to let you do this either. She's not going to want you to go through this by yourself any more than I do. I'll go with you when you talk to Cap if you want me to. I realize he has to be informed about what's going on, and since this last letter involved Jennifer I know he'll want to speak with me anyway. Maybe it's best if we talk to him together."

        Roy gave an internal sigh of relief when Johnny finally agreed to his words with a soft, "Maybe."

        "So you'll get the notion of transferring out of your head?"

        "I...let's just wait until we talk to Cap, okay?"

        Roy was willing to give his partner that much.

        "Okay."

        Johnny shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. He stared out at the dusk a little longer before finally turning around.

        "I just want it to end, Roy. I'm to the point that I don't even care how as long as it doesn't involve your family. If it's me he wants then he can have me."

        "Johnny! You don't mean that."

        "Yes, I do. You don't know what if feels like. You don't know what if feels like to wonder if he's watching you. If he knows when you leave your house and when you come home. If he knows who your friends are, what your habits are, where you work. It's...it's frightening in a way I can't put into words...and hate to admit. It makes me feel powerless. At least if he'd show himself, like he did that night in the woods, I could do something about it. But this game of cat and mouse he's playing...well take it from me, it gets old real fast."

        "I'm sure it does. And if there was anything I could do, anything at all, you know I would."

        "I know. Thanks."

        Before the two men could say anything else Joanne returned to the kitchen.

        "Well?" Roy asked.

        "We can leave tomorrow. Mom and Dad have no problem with the change in plans."

        "What'd you tell them?" Roy asked.

        Of course, Roy's mother and his in-laws knew about the camping trip and what had occurred on it. They also knew Johnny had made a complete recovery and their grandchildren had suffered no ill effects considering what they'd been through. Considering the recent turn of events, Roy hoped they'd never have to be given any news other than that.

        "I just told them August was going to be a tough month for us to get down there what with doing back-to-school shopping for the kids, getting in doctors' and dentists' appointments, and such. And that since you had the day off tomorrow we thought it would be a good time for you to drive me and the kids down."

        "Good. I don't think it's necessary to tell them any more than that right now. They'll only worry."

        "I agree. But what about your mother?"

        "We'll tell her the exact thing you told your folks. We'll tell Chris and Jen the same. If the need arises to reveal more at a later date...well, we'll deal with that then."

        Joanne and Roy almost forgot Johnny was in the room. Their attention focused on him when he once again said, "I'm sorry."

        "Johnny..." Joanne scolded.

        "No. I am. You're being forced to lie to your parents and your kids because
I couldn't stop this guy the night he tried to take Jenny. If I had then none of this..." Johnny faltered as he bit back unwelcome tears. "Or Carrie...or your fear for Jenny...or..."

        Joanne wouldn't allow the man to continue. Or to refuse her hug again. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. She expected him to remain stiff within her embrace, or maybe even push her away, or rebuke her with a firm, "Don't," like he'd done earlier, but he didn't do any of those things. This time he reciprocated the hug and clung to her like he would had she been Reah. She felt his silent tears soak into her shoulder. She suspected if Roy wasn't present Johnny would break down into gut wrenching sobs which Joanne was sure would be the best thing for him.

        Oh you men, Joanne thought as she held her husband's partner and felt his tears dampening the material of her blouse. Why is it you think it makes you less masculine when you cry? God knows you need the release, Johnny. You've blamed yourself for so much these last three months, and not an ounce of it is your blame to shoulder.

        Whether or not Roy sensed Johnny would be more comfortable if he wasn't sitting three feet from him, or whether he simply had to do something in order to cope with his friend's breakdown, Joanne didn't know. All she did know was that Roy got up from his chair and quietly walked into the kitchen. While she held Johnny her husband rummaged through the refrigerator and cabinets until he'd put a meal together that included a roast beef sandwich and glass of milk.

        It was when Roy poured the milk that Joanne realized he hadn't lost his mind. He wasn't making a snack for himself, he rarely used milk unless it was to pour over a bowl of cereal. No, this meal was for Johnny. Roy had evidently come to the conclusion his friend hadn't eaten all day. Or maybe he'd finally taken note of the weight Johnny had recently lost. Or maybe this was just his way of trying to offer his partner comfort. Joanne wasn't concerned about the reasons behind it. She supposed they encompassed everything she'd just thought of and more besides.

        When Johnny pulled his head from Joanne's shoulder she steered him to the table. Neither she nor Roy had to order him to eat, which led Joanne to believe he knew they weren't beneath doing just that. More than likely he also knew they weren't leaving until they got some food into him.

        No one said anything while Johnny ate. When he was finished and had walked his dishes to the sink Joanne and Roy got ready to leave. Joanne hugged Johnny good-bye. With her words came the unspoken promise that somehow, things would return to normal.

        "I'll see you when we get back."

        "Give the kids a kiss for me. And tell them I said hi."

        "I will."

        Joanne wanted to add a heart-felt, "Be careful, Johnny," but knew it was better to part on a positive note.

        Roy's final words of the evening were, "Make sure you lock the door behind us. And maybe you should have Joe stay in the house with you at night."

        "Yeah," Johnny agreed, though whether that was to both Roy's suggestions, or only one, Joanne wasn't certain. As she stepped out into the cool night air Joanne heard Johnny tell her husband she'd see him Friday morning.

        The DeSotos were two miles away from Johnny's ranch before Roy spoke.

        "I don't like the thought of him being on that ranch alone at night."

        "Maybe you can convince him to stay at our house after the kids and I are gone."

        "Maybe. Though I doubt he'll agree to that. Knowing Johnny he'll be worried the guy will follow him there and figure out where we live."

        "Unfortunately that's a very real possibility."

        "I know."

        Roy didn't say anymore. He spent the remainder of the drive to his mother's home worrying about keeping his family safe, while at the same time worrying about keeping his partner safe. For some reason he had an eerie feeling that before this was all over a price of some sort was going to be paid. He prayed to God that price didn't involve his children, his wife,....or his best friend.

        

Chapter 43

        
        Just as Roy knew he wouldn't, Hank Stanley refused to consider allowing Johnny to transfer from Station 51 considering the reasons he gave. The captain agreed with Roy. John needed the support of his friends now more than ever.

        It wasn't often that Hank Stanley held any type of station house meeting that didn't include all the men on his shift. But that Friday he did. While Johnny and Roy were out on a run he called Marco, Chet, and Mike into the kitchen. He told them what was going on, and let them read the photocopied letters Johnny had handed him.

        "I told John I wouldn't allow him to put in for a transfer. He's concerned for Roy's safety of course. And for the safety of the rest of us. If any of you disagree with my decision please speak up now. Each of you has the right to your opinion, and I won't fault you if it differs from mine."

        Hank wasn't surprised when not one word of objection to Johnny's continuing presence at Station 51 was raised.

        "What can we do to help him, Cap?" Marco asked after the letters had been read.

        "I wish I had an answer for you, pal, but I don't. Just...let him know he can bend your ear if he needs to. I suspect he's keeping a ton of worry, fear, and anger bottled up inside. I get the impression he hasn't even told Roy all he's feeling. Maybe he never will. But he's being put through sheer hell by this guy. A living hell none of us can fully imagine. All of you saw the sketch of John's attacker. I guess the best advice I can give you is to keep your eyes open when we go out on calls. I have no idea whether or not he's following Johnny, but if any of you spot him we'll want to call the cops immediately."

        The men nodded.

        On a final note the Captain pointed a stern finger at Chet.

        "And, Kelly, put the Phantom into retirement until this is over. Got it?"

        For once Chet didn't argue that suggestion. "Got it, Cap."

___________________________________        

        
        Seven days went by in which John Gage received no letters. He was just beginning to think his ordeal was over when the station phone rang. Captain Stanley picked it up in the kitchen. The caller didn't identify himself when he asked to speak with John Gage. Hank put the receiver on the counter and went in search of his dark haired paramedic. He found Johnny and Roy washing the squad in the parking lot behind the station. The engine was parked next to it. Mike, Marco, and Chet were giving Big Red a bath, too.

        "John! Phone!"

        Hank stayed outside shooting the bull with his men for a few minutes. When he'd had just about enough of the hot July sun and was about to reenter the cool interior of the brick building, Johnny came out the back door.

        Captain Stanley knew immediately that something was wrong. John passed by him like a man in a trance. The complexion that was a deep bronze during the
summer months was now deathly white.

        Roy didn't look up from where he was crouched down scrubbing the white walls of the front driver's side tire. He heard Johnny's feet go by and assumed his partner was walking around to the other side of the squad to resume washing it.

        The next thing Roy heard was Chet's, "Gage, what the hell is wrong with you? You just kicked over my bucket of water, you moron!" Then, in a tone that changed from anger to concern, "Johnny? Johnny?"

        Roy saw Cap's feet race by and heard him exclaim, "Johnny!" as well. Roy pushed himself from the ground in time to observe Johnny sway, then stagger as though he'd just tumbled out of a bar after an all night bender. If Chet hadn't reached out to snare his elbow Johnny would have hit the pavement like a rock. As it was Chet almost lost his grip. Hank arrived just in time to grab John's other elbow. Together he and Chet eased Johnny to a seated position on the engine's running board.

        Roy was the next to arrive at his partner's side. He crouched down in front of Johnny while reaching out to take the pulse at his throat. It throbbed in a rhythm that would cause Roy to guess his friend had just run a race if he didn't know better.

        The blond man nodded his thanks to Marco who had retrieved the bio-phone, drug box and trauma box. It was as Roy was wrapping the blood pressure cuff around John's arm that the younger man seemed to come out of whatever daze he was trapped in. He pushed Roy's hands aside.

        "Johnny, stop it. Let me get your b.p."

        "No. I'm...I'm fine."

        "You don't look fine to me. And I've got four witnesses here who saw you damn near take a tumble right onto that hard head of yours."

        "Roy, stop it. I'm okay." Johnny scowled at the bio-phone. "And there's no need to call Rampart. Or get out any of that other stuff either."

        "When you're the captain of this station you can make those decisions, Gage," Hank said, "but for now do what Roy tells you. I want him to check you out. If you don't let him do it here I'll call an ambulance and strap you to the gurney myself if I have to."

        Johnny knew better than to argue with his captain when Hank used that tone. He let Roy take his blood pressure, shine a pen light in both his eyes, and feel the lymph nodes in his neck. Just like he knew would happen, Roy didn't find anything other than to say his blood pressure was a bit high.

        The blond man stood up and motioned for Hank to follow him. Roy could feel Johnny glaring at his back, but he didn't care. He knew Cap would want his opinion on Johnny's fitness for duty.

        When they were far enough away that they couldn't be over heard by the other men Hank asked, "What's the scoop?"

        "Other than to say something must have upset him, I don't know. His pulse was racing when I first checked him, but it's dropped considerably which means he's calming down."

        "Could that alone have caused him to almost pass out?"

        "It could if he was suddenly put under a lot of stress. You know, like if he'd just received bad news or,"

        "The phone call," Hank said.

        "Huh?"

        "He was fine until he took that phone call. I thought he looked pale and kind of dazed when he walked out of the building."

        Hank headed toward Johnny with Roy at his heels. He didn't intend to pry into John's personal life any farther than he had to, but he did intend to get enough information out of his paramedic to determine whether or not he should be allowed to complete the last twenty-four hours of their shift.

        Johnny was pushing himself to his feet when Hank and Roy approached.

        "If you two are done talking about me we have a squad lathered with soap bubbles. I need to get back to washing it."

        "Not so fast there, pal. Not until you answer a couple questions for me."

        Johnny knew this was coming. He had no desire to be put through an interrogation, but he was forced to admit to himself that Captain Stanley couldn't do any less. After all, it was his job to make certain each one of his men was fit for duty on a daily basis.

        The paramedic avoided making eye contact with anyone as he finally gave a slight nod of his head.

        "Look, John, I don't mean to pry into your personal life, and you don't have to give me any details if you'd rather not, but you were fine until you took that phone call. Did you get some bad news, pal?"

        For just a moment Chet forgot he was supposed to be on his best behavior where John Gage was concerned. The first thing that came into his head prompted by Cap's question to the paramedic popped out Chet's mouth.

        Yeah, Johnny, did your latest girl dump you?"

        Marco gave his friend a hard elbow to the ribs while Mike hissed, "Chet."

        Chet could already see a month's worth of latrine duty in Cap's eyes for his smart remark, and Roy was shooting him a glare that gave the expression, 'if looks could kill' a whole new meaning.

        Before Chet had the chance to make a hasty apology Johnny turned to him. But this time there was no anger present like there so often was after one of the Irishman's tactless comments. This time all Chet could see was sorrow.

        "No, Chet, no one dumped me. That was Detective Bellmen. Another..." Johnny's gaze shifted back to Hank and Roy. Though Roy couldn't hear Johnny do so, he sensed his partner take a deep, shuddering breath. "A little girl was found murdered outside Sacramento. Kristy Andrews. They're pretty sure it's the same guy who tried to take Jenny and who killed Carrie Wrightman. I...I guess now we know why I haven't heard from him in a week. He's been busy."

        John brushed by his stunned co-workers. Roy allowed him exactly thirty seconds alone in the station before going in search of him. Hank kept the rest of the men outside. He told Marco to help him finish washing the squad while instructing Mike and Chet to return to work on the engine. The men were just putting their sponges and buckets away when the klaxons sounded. Roy came running out of the station with Johnny at his heels. The blond paramedic handed an address slip to his captain before sliding behind the wheel of the squad. Hank had gotten only a quick glimpse of Johnny, but thought the man looked like shit.
However; he trusted Roy's judgment on this. He'd been alone in the station with Johnny forty minutes. Regardless of their friendship, if Roy hadn't felt Johnny was capable of doing his job he would have told his captain. Hank was certain of that.         

        As the engine barreled down the street with its air horn blaring, Hank couldn't keep his mind off Johnny. He wondered how much more one man could take.

        It would only be a few days before he found out.

Chapter 44

        
        
        It was on Monday of the following week that another letter arrived.

        Uncle Johnny, why did you let my friend Kristy die? Aren't you ever going to help any of us again?

        On Tuesday Johnny found a lone roller skate hanging from a rafter in his barn. He knew Carrie Wrightman had been roller skating when she'd been kidnapped.

        When he arrived home from work on Saturday a pink tennis shoe was wrapped around a railing of his deck. The paramedic's facial expression never changed from the stoic mask he was wearing when Mark Bellmen told him Kristy
Andrews had been wearing pink tennis shoes when she'd disappeared.        

        Like sometimes happened when Mark Bellmen worked a drawn-out investigation with many twists and turns, he got personally involved in the case. He hated what this was doing to John Gage. That Saturday evening he hoped he wasn't overstepping his bounds when he placed a call to Roy DeSoto.

___________________________________        

        Johnny hadn't told Roy he'd received a fifth letter, nor about the discovery of the roller skate. Now this. A pink tennis shoe. Roy didn't think twice when he hung up the phone after talking to Bellmen. He threw a few changes of clothes in a gym bag and packed his shaving kit with his razor, deodorant, comb, shampoo, toothpaste and toothbrush. By the time it was growing dark he was headed to Johnny's ranch.

        John must have heard his car pull up because he was waiting for Roy at the front door. He didn't say anything. Not, "Hi, Roy," not, "What are you doing here?" and most importantly not, "I'm fine. You can go back home," which Roy was half expecting. Johnny simply stood aside and allowed his friend to enter the house.

        "You know where everything is," Johnny said. "Reah changed the sheets on the bed in the spare room before she left."

        The dim light shining from the living room into the wide foyer kept half of the paramedic's face hidden in shadows. Still, it was enough for Roy to be able to tell his partner was on the verge of collapse.

        How long has it been since he's slept through the night I wonder?

        "Feel free to make yourself at home," Johnny continued. "I'm going to bed."

        "Johnny?" Roy beckoned before John could disappear within his bedroom.

        The dark headed man turned around, but didn't say anything.

        "Let me call Brackett."

        "What for?"

        "I...I think he should know what's going on. And he can give you something to help you sleep."

        "No."

        "But..."

        "No, Roy. If you call him he'll want to see me."

        That's exactly what Roy was hoping for.

        "Come on, it won't be that bad. If he's on duty tomorrow,...or even tonight, I'll drive you over there. The whole thing won't take more than an hour or two."

        "No."

        "Johnny..."

        Roy couldn't recall a time when John had ever pleaded with him other than in fun.

        "Roy...please. He'll pull me off duty."

        "You can't be certain of that."

        "I am. You know how he is. Everything's black and white with him. There's no gray in his world. My job is all I've got left right now. It's the only place I can go to get away from this shit."

        Until the next time Bellmen calls you at work to give you bad news, Roy thought, while at the same time making a mental note to ask the detective not to do that any more.

        Johnny held his breath until Roy gave a reluctant nod.

        "Okay. I won't call Brackett on two conditions."

        John's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What?"

        "Number one, you let me fix you some supper and you eat everything I put in front of you. If Brackett catches a glimpse of your waist he'll be giving you a physical so fast your head will spin. And then tomorrow morning, we repeat the process. You eat everything I set on the table."

        Although Johnny's appetite had left him weeks ago, he knew this was a small price to pay in order not to see Kelly Brackett.

        "All right."

        "And number two, you spend the next four days sleeping as much as you can. I'm staying here with you. I'll take care of the animals, or anything else you need me to do so you can rest."

        "Roy..."

        "Don't bother arguing with me. That's the deal. Take me up on it or I call Brackett right now even if I have to reach him at home."

        A tiny grin touched the corners of Johnny's mouth. "It's Saturday night. He's probably out with Dixie."

        "You think so?"

        "I don't know," John shrugged. "Maybe. Him and Dix are like the Matt Dillon and Miss Kitty of Rampart."

        Roy laughed at the mental picture that presented. "Somehow I don't think Dixie would find that comparison flattering, but in a strange sort of way you're right."

        The blond man clapped his friend on the back before Johnny had a chance to say anything else, or offer any further protests.

        "Is your fridge stocked?"

        "Yeah. I stopped at the grocery store on my way home today."

        "Good. Then how about scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and milk, followed by about twelve hours of sleep?"

        "If that'll keep me away from Brackett I won't argue."

        Roy led his partner to the kitchen.

        "I'm not making any promises, Junior, but it's a start."

Chapter 45

        By the time Johnny and Roy reported to work on Thursday morning Roy thought he saw a vast improvement in his friend physically speaking. Roy suspected his presence in Johnny's home allowed the man to relax in a way he hadn't since receiving that first letter. Maybe the watchful part of Johnny's brain shut itself down knowing Roy would take over listening for any odd sounds that might indicate someone was lurking about in the darkness. Or maybe it was just knowing he had Roy's support through all this that allowed Johnny to finally give into his exhaustion. Whatever it wasn't didn't make any difference to the blond man. All he cared about was that Johnny ate, slept, and unwound a little bit during their off time.

        No more letters arrived during that four day time span, and no mysterious gifts were left on Johnny's property. Roy was thankful for both those happenings though, as well, couldn't help but conclude that was an indication Johnny was being watched. He surmised Johnny had come to the same conclusion despite the fact an unmarked police car continuously circled the area surrounding the ranch.

        The morning calls Roy and Johnny went on that day were more amusing than they were eventful. There was the eight year old boy stuck halfway through a doggie door as he tried to sneak back in the house after skipping school. Then came the man with fishing lures jammed in his backside, that painful action occurring when he tripped and fell on top of his open tackle box. And finally, right before lunch, the elderly woman who was sure aliens had landed in her back yard the previous evening and just thought someone should know. She didn't look too convinced when Johnny explained to her the ruts she was seeing had been made by a mini-bike. She walked back into her house mumbling, "The fire department must hire any nitwit who applies for a job now days," which caused Roy to burst into laughter despite the mock glare his partner shot him.

        It was four o'clock when Station 51 was summoned to a structure fire at a warehouse. Roy recognized the address as being in an aging part of the city that had long ago been abandoned by business owners and residents alike.

        At least we shouldn't have to do a rescue, the senior paramedic thought as he pulled the squad into the start of rush hour traffic. Every so often it's nice to just be a hose jockey.

        Roy had a feeling Johnny was thinking the same thing when they drove up to the huge building. Flames shot high through the roof as black smoke billowed into the air like a miniature tornado.

        These old buildings are solid wood. It's a sure bet this will burn like a house made of matchsticks.

        Station 36, Station 10, and Station 19 pulled up behind 51, though none of their paramedics had been called out. Before Johnny or Roy had a chance to get their instructions from Captain Stanley two boys darted from the other side of the street. They were both carrying schoolbooks, and neither looked to be over twelve. One grabbed onto the sleeve of Johnny's turnout coat and tugged.

        "Hey, mister!"

        Johnny swiveled to find himself looking into a pair of blue eyes wide with excitement, capped by a mop of thick white-blond hair.

        "Go on," Johnny instructed with a wave of his hand. "You and your friend get on outta here before one of you gets hurt."

        "But, Mister," the other boy yelled over the roar of the fire, "there's someone in there!"

        Roy followed the finger the red headed boy used to point with.

        "In the warehouse?"

        "Yeah. He went in to get his stuff!"

        "And his dog!" The blond boy added.

        Roy turned to his partner.

        "Whatta ya' think?"

        "Probably some homeless guy who's been usin' this as a place to crash," Johnny said as he opened the long compartment that held their air tanks.

        Roy silently agreed. He ran toward Captain Stanley to relay the information the boys had given him.

        So much for being a hose jockey.

        By the time Roy and Johnny were slipping the straps of their tanks over their shoulders the boys who had alerted them were blocks away. They stopped running once they could no longer see the flames from the fire. The red headed boy pulled the twenty dollar bill out of his pocket the stranger had given him and his friend to tell the Station 51 paramedics he was in the building. Why someone would deliberately run into the middle of a fire the boy didn't know. He momentarily wondered if he and his buddy had done something wrong by accepting the man's money and then telling the paramedics he needed help.

        He also wondered why it was so important that they only tell their story to the paramedics from Station 51, as opposed to any old fireman they ran across.
        

___________________________________        

        Hank Stanley hated this type of rescue more than any other. When an abandoned structure was burning you had no one to question about the layout of the building, and therefore had little information to pass onto your men. He didn't like the idea of Johnny and Roy entering the burning warehouse based upon the words of a couple kids. He liked it even less when he turned around to find the boys in order to talk to them himself, only to discover they were gone.

        The warehouse was so vast that when Johnny and Roy first entered they encountered no flames and very little smoke. They quickly determined the majority of the fire was contained far above them, on the upper floor loft. That was both good and bad. Good because they had fairly clear visibility for the time being, but bad because everything above them could come down on top of them if they didn't pay close attention to how fast the fire was spreading.

        Roy pointed east, indicating he was going in that direction. Johnny nodded. Using his own index finger, he pointed west.

        The two men had worked together long enough not to need an exchange of words. It was understood between them that when they finished searching their sections of the ground floor they'd meet back here by the double doors and contact Cap before deciding if a search of the wide loft was necessary, or even feasible.

        The half of the warehouse Roy took contained offices that hadn't been used in years. He spotted an old time clock outside one, a battered filing cabinet inside another, and a metal sign that read, Support The War Effort, in another, but for the most part each room had been emptied of all furnishings years earlier.

        Roy opened doors and yelled, "Fire Department! Anyone in here?" more times than he could count. He used his stick of chalk to X the door of each room he secured.

Johnny was able to move more quickly than his partner through his half of the building. There were no offices on the west end, and whatever had been manufactured or stored here was long gone. Like Roy, he continuously hollered, "Fire Department! Anyone in here?" but received no answer.

        Damn kids. If they were screwin' around with us I swear I'll skin them alive when I get my hands on 'em.

        The crackling of flames overhead made Johnny look up. He did a double take when he saw a man leaning over the wooden railing forty feet above him. There was enough smoke surrounding the man so Johnny couldn't get a clear view of his face. He got the impression the guy was taller than himself, and powerfully built, but he couldn't say that for certain.

        "Hey! Get down here!"

        The man shook his head. "You come up here!"

        What the...is this guy crazy or what?

        "This whole place is gonna go! Now get to the stairs and come down!"

        Before the conversation could go any farther the man disappeared into the thick smoke. Johnny waited a few seconds, expecting to see him running down the wooden staircase that emptied into the center of the building. When no one appeared Johnny looked for Roy. When he didn't see his partner coming back from the east side of the building he retrieved his Handie Talkie from his pocket. He spoke into it as he took the stairs two at a time.

        "Engine 51, this is John. I've spotted a man on the second floor. I'm going up to get him."

        Johnny could barely hear his Captain's response as he got closer to the source of the flames.

        "Make it quick, pal. That second floor isn't going to hold long."

        "10-4, Cap."

        Johnny returned the Handie Talkie to his pocket as his right foot hit the second floor landing. He squinted into the dense smoke.

        Now where the hell did he go?

        Johnny walked a few feet from the landing. Because of the smoke he could barely see the arc of water spraying into the building at the far end. Before he had a chance to do any more of a visual search a voice spoke from behind him. Despite the suffocating heat, a shiver ran up the paramedic's spine.

        "Well, well, well...if it isn't Uncle Johnny. My old friend, and long-time nemesis, John Gage."

        Johnny pivoted, which he immediately realized was a mistake. The force of a baseball bat hitting the side of his skull knocked him off his feet. The only thing that saved him from losing consciousness was his helmet. The bat's blow was somewhat deflected by its rim. Somewhat, but not completely. Johnny saw stars as his chin slammed against the rough boards that made up the second floor. The strap on his helmet snapped, causing that piece of safety equipment to bounce beyond his reach. He felt his air mask being ripped off next and shoved behind his back.

        "No need for this where you're going, Johnny."

        John swallowed back a wave of nausea as he pushed himself to a sitting position. He could feel blood running down the left side of his face, and his vision was blurry. Not so blurry; however, as to be unable to determine who his adversary was. He refused to allow his shock to show. Johnny would never give this bastard the satisfaction of thinking he'd pulled one over on him.

        The paramedic struggled to his feet. He swayed back and forth, gasping for a breath of uncontaminated air. When the room stopped spinning he forced back a cough, looked his opponent in the eye and asked one question.

        "Why?"

        "Why what, Injun Boy? Why the letters? Why the roller skate? Why the tennis shoe? Hell, John, you've lost your sense of humor. Because why is as simple as this...it was fun."

Johnny knew all too well what this man was capable of if given the opportunity. He knew his best chance at survival was to keep his assailant talking while trying to inch for the stairs.

        "Fun?" A bout of strong coughing almost toppled Johnny to the floor again. He squinted, but wasn't able to see more than five feet in front of his face. He could hear the fire getting closer. The last place he wanted to be was standing on the burning second story of this warehouse. "Look, you might call this fun, but I've got news for you, if this floor gives way, which I guarantee you it will, neither one of us is gonna be having much fun."

        "Gage, I haven't had fun in eleven years. As a matter of fact, all I've been doin' is hiding. Running from town to town. Moving from job to job. Changing my name as I go. And it's all your fault. You took everything from me that should have been mine."

        Johnny gave a mirthless laugh. "I took everything from you? I see not much has changed over the years. Your shoe size still out measures your I.Q."

        In a split second the paramedic realized his smart mouth had once again
gotten him in trouble.

        You'd think I'd have learned by now. Mom always told me I'd be better off if I thought before I spoke.

        The baseball bat slammed into Johnny's right arm with a loud, "Whack!"
He stifled a yelp as the pain caused him to double over and grab onto the injured appendage with his other hand.

        "You did take everything from me, Gage! You did! She...she was so pure. So sweet. What she saw in the likes of a half breed like you I never figured out."

        Johnny looked up into his opponent's blue eyes. He ignored the pain screaming through his arm and lancing through his skull when he said, "What she saw was someone who loved her."

        This time Johnny was ready when the bat arced above him. He jumped backwards, the blow that was meant for the top of his skull missing him by less than an inch.

        "I loved her!" The enraged man screamed over the sounds of the fire. "I loved her first! She was mine! Mine until you came along and stole her from me!"

        Johnny danced out of the way as the baseball bat flew back and forth over and over again. It clipped his arm once more, and then his hip, but he kept moving. The only problem was, he was headed in the wrong direction...toward the fire instead of away from it.

        Stay calm, Johnny chastised himself as his eyes watered from both pain and smoke. You've got to stay calm if you're going to get out of here alive.

        Johnny tried his best to lead his attacker back toward the stairway, but the man blocked his path. Between the heat, the smoke, the weight of the air tank on his back, and his injuries, Johnny knew it would only be a matter of time before he collapsed in a semi-conscious heap on the floor. He refused to allow himself to think of anything else but survival. If his mind wandered too far into the past he knew he'd simply give up and let the man kill him now.

        Get to the stairs, Gage. Get to the damn stairs. You always could out run him. If you get that far you can make a break for it.

        Johnny wasn't sure how many blows from the bat he dodged versus how many connected. He felt like Mohammed Ali as he danced and shuffled while trying to avoid being hit on the head again. All the while his enraged assailant was screaming at him, seemingly not bothered by the dangers that would prompt a sane man to flee.

        "They called you a hero in the paper! A hero! Bet you didn't tell them about the last time, hero! How you couldn't save Kim! So now you think you're tough shit 'cause you're a macho fireman! Well you ain't tough shit! It was because of you, John! It's because of you that she's dead! And I bet she knew it! I bet she knew it as she took her last breath!"

        It was then that eleven years of self-control snapped. Johnny bent over at the waist and charged forward. He rammed his head into his attacker's midsection. He heard the man give a loud, "Oof!" as they tumbled to the floor. The men latched onto each other's arms. They rolled three times before Johnny ended up on the bottom. His air tank was nothing but a hindrance. It prevented him from getting the leverage he needed to push his opponent off his chest. A beefy fist connected with his jaw, and then with his cheekbone. This time the stars he saw were heavily layered in black. He felt the big hands grab the shoulders of his turnout coat. He struggled as he was dragged towards the railing, but couldn't break free. He knew he was going to be tossed over and briefly wondered what his chances of surviving the forty foot fall would be.

        Not good, the paramedic portion of his brain told him. Not good at all.

        Johnny could feel flames nipping at his turnout pants. He contemplated what would be worse, dying from a two story fall or dying from third degree burns. Neither sounded particularly appealing, and he found himself praying whatever happened would just be over soon.

        The possibility that John Gage would have met his maker that day was high, except for one thing. Chester B. Kelly. As far as Chet knew no one was on the second floor. He was the first man at the top of the ladder that was propped against the outside of the building. Marco was directly behind Chet with two firemen from Station 19 bringing up the rear. Chet held on tight to both the ladder and the hose when he felt the water coming through. The smoke was so thick he couldn't see where he was aiming when he pointed the nozzle through the second story window.

        The force of the water hitting him square in the back flipped Johnny's attacker into the air like a rag doll. His hands flailed, trying to grab onto whatever was available. By nothing more than luck he managed to nab a portion of the railing. Johnny saw flames devouring the wood just inches away from his adversary.

        The man screamed as he jerked his right hand from the railing. Johnny could smell the distinct odor of burnt flesh.

        "Hold on!" Johnny shouted. "Hold on! I'm coming!"

        Johnny scrambled toward the man. He was within three feet of him when the fire devoured the remainder of the railing. John hollered, "No!" as he lunged forward. At the same time the man screamed.

        The fire had reached his left hand.

        He let go of the railing.

        Through smoke-filled, red-rimmed eyes; Johnny couldn't do anything other than watch him fall.

Chapter 46

        Roy DeSoto finished his tour of the north end of the building.

        Better see if Johnny needs my help. We don't have much time left. That second story doesn't look too sturd...what the hell!

        Roy would have thought someone had tossed a dummy over the railing if he hadn't heard the distinct 'splat' a body makes when it hits hard ground. A dozen questions swirled through his mind as he ran to the victim. Before he even reached for the pulse point at the man's throat Roy was well aware he wouldn't find a beat. By the way the man's head was angled the paramedic knew his neck was broken.

        Roy's next instinct was to look up. He saw the upper half of his partner's body hanging over the second floor loft. Fire flicked around Johnny and burned what little was left of the railing just inches above his head.

        What's going on?

        Roy didn't waste time pondering his question. Like Johnny had done earlier, he took the stairs two at a time.

        "Johnny!" He yelled as he ran to Johnny's side. "John!"

        The paramedic knew there wasn't time for any type of medical assessment. He lifted his partner to his feet and brought Johnny's left arm across his shoulders. He half dragged, half carried his friend to the stairs.

        The flames chased Roy and Johnny down the steps. How Roy managed to stay ahead of them with the additional burden of his partner's weight he never knew. He heard the second floor giving way as he dragged Johnny out of the building. Hank Stanley saw them coming and ran to help Roy. The first sign of life Johnny gave was when the captain tried to put John's injured right arm across his shoulder. Johnny cried out in pain, then doubled over coughing.

        "Sorry, pal," Hank murmured as he and Roy raced for the squad with Johnny between them.

        They removed Johnny's air tank then eased him to the sidewalk in a sitting position, allowing him to lean back against the squad. Roy kept one firm hand in the center of his partner's chest and the other on his left shoulder. The last thing he wanted was to have Johnny topple over and injure himself further.

        While Roy filled his captain in on what little he knew of the events that transpired in the warehouse, Hank opened various compartments and was soon hauling the trauma box, drug box, bio-phone, and oxygen to Roy's side.

        "Thanks, Cap."

        Hank nodded as he pulled his Handie Talkie from the pocket of his turnout coat.

        "L.A., this is Engine 51. I have a Code I at our location. Respond an ambulance and another paramedic unit."

        "10-4, 51."

        Hank crouched down beside Roy. "Need my help?"

        "Yeah. When I'm ready I want you to relay his vitals to Rampart for me."

        "All right."

        The captain opened the box that contained the bio-phone and set the antennae up while Roy examined his patient. Blood and sweat mixed together to run down Johnny's face. Roy dabbed at the blood with a thick pad of gauze until he determined its source. He checked his partner's eyes with his penlight, then spoke to Johnny as he began to unbuckle the latches on his turnout coat.

        "I'm going to get this off of you, Johnny. Can you sit forward for me?"

        When Roy got no response other than a vacant stare he spoke louder.

        "Johnny? Johnny, I need you to sit forward so I can get your coat off. John?
Johnny!"

        "What's wrong?" Hank asked as he scooted closer in order to see around Roy's body.

        "I don't know. He appears to be in shock of some sort." Roy turned his attention back to his partner. "Johnny! John!"

        Roy's shouts finally brought Johnny out of his self-imposed trance. He looked up at his partner as though he was registering Roy's presence for the first time since they'd parted ways inside the building twenty minutes earlier. Roy had to strain to hear the man over the sounds of the fire, sirens, and men's shouts.

        "What, Johnny? What did you say?"

        In a voice barely above a whisper Johnny repeated, "It was him. It was him all summer long."

        "Who are you talking about? The guy in the warehouse?"

        "I...he set me up. It was him. The shoe, the skate, the letters...it was him."

        And with that Johnny turned his head and vomited. Roy held Johnny's shoulders to keep him upright as his stomach emptied itself with a vengeance. Hank was never so glad to see another paramedic unit arrive as he was that day. Roy had his hands full just trying to support Johnny as the vomiting gave way to the dry heaves.

        Captain Stanley briefed the paramedics from Station 19 on what little he knew of Johnny's condition, then stepped out of the way. He spoke into the Handie Talkie again, this time making a request of a very different sort.

        "L.A., this is Engine 51. The fire at our location is a probable arson. Also, contact Detective Mark Bellmen at the L.A.P. D. Tell him..." Hank paused a moment to look at Johnny. Roy had his turnout coat off of him now as well as his shirt. Hank could see the deep bruises already beginning to form on John's arms, chest, and shoulders that indicated he'd been beaten with some sort of blunt instrument. Johnny was leaning back against the squad again, staring at the burning building with a vacant glaze to his eyes. He didn't appear to notice the ministrations of his partner and 19's paramedics. This compliance on Johnny's part was completely out of character. Hank wished for nothing more than to hear Johnny grumble at Roy to put the B/P cuff away, or to tell Roy it wasn't necessary to contact Rampart while pushing himself to his feet. But Johnny did none of those things. As he sat there pale and shivering Hank thought he looked alone. Desperately alone. Which seemed rather odd considering Johnny's best friend was right beside him. Nonetheless, Hank couldn't shake that feeling.

        The Handie Talkie squawked.

        "Engine 51, can you repeat your last request? The transmission broke up."

        "Uh...yes, L.A. Sorry." Hank turned away from the paramedics before speaking again. "Please contact Detective Mark Bellmen at the L.A.P.D. Tell him it concerns the matter with John Gage."

        "Copy, 51. 10-4"

        "10-4, L.A."

        Ten minutes later the ambulance pulled up that would carry Johnny to Rampart. Roy rode with his partner while one of the paramedics from 19's followed in their squad, and the other one drove 51's squad so Roy would have a way to get back his station.

        Five minutes after the ambulance left the arson investigator arrived. Twenty minutes after that Mark Bellmen arrived with a young blond man Hank had never seen before. The captain told the two men of the events that had taken place since the fire department had arrived on the scene.

        "DeSoto says there's a body in there. Says the guy fell from the second story. There's no doubt Gage was beaten at some point while he was in there."

        "What are his injuries?" Mark asked.

        "Probable concussion. Other than that I saw a lot of bruises on his chest and arms. No bones are broken that I know of, but I'll get a full report after the doctors at Rampart have had a chance to examine him."

        Detective Bellmen nodded. For the time being he couldn't do anything but wait until the fire was under control. He was anxious to get inside the warehouse and take a look at the body Captain Stanley mentioned, and he was anxious to talk to John Gage. However; neither of those things was going to happen soon. He watched the firemen spray water on the burning building before turning to Troy.

        "Troy Boy, hope you had a big lunch because I think we're in for a long night."

        As Mark thought of all this case had involved since the Sunday in April he had sat interviewing the DeSoto children at Rampart Hospital he added, "A very long night."