Fully Committed

Blond hair with gentle waves that fell past her shoulders. Slender—almost too slender. A little taller than average height, maybe five foot eight in her knee-length skirt and brown cowboy boots. As with cowboy hats, Jon had never been one for boots, but he could already feel his opinion changing about that. This woman’s brown, well-worn ones made it difficult for him to tear his attention from her legs.

Her legs were gorgeous. She was gorgeous.

This must be the friend from college the paramedic had mentioned. Caroline walked over with her to where he and Zane were standing.

“Zane, Jon, this is my friend Sherry Mitchell. She’s visiting Corpus Christi for a couple of weeks,” Caroline told them.

Jon shook Sherry’s hand and immediately noticed she was distracted. Her eyes kept darting to the room where Spangler was talking to the victim.

Maybe because it was starting to get a little louder in there.

“Look, I’m your best bet in us apprehending the man who raped you. Do you really want to rest more than you want to catch this guy?” Spangler’s voice could be heard clearly.

All the color seemed to seep out of Sherry’s face.

“Look, don’t cry, for heaven’s sake.” Spangler continued, his distaste obvious. “I’m a forensic artist. Just tell me what you saw.”

“I didn’t see anything.” Jasmine Houze’s voice was soft, slurred, probably from the swelling of her face. “I didn’t see him. He hit me and then...and then... I’m sorry.” Her crying became louder.

“Nothing?” Spangler demanded. “Nothing at all? Do you not want to catch him? Is that it?”

“Oh, my God,” Sherry whispered.

“I’m going in there,” Jon said to Zane. “I don’t care if Spangler is the ranking officer or not. This has to stop.”

“I’m right behind you,” Zane agreed.

“No.” It was Sherry who spoke. “That woman does not need more men barging in on her and fighting.”

Caroline nodded. “She’s right. I’ll go in. I, at least, have already met her, since Michael and I brought her in this morning. You guys go get the doctor.”

“I’m going with you,” Zane said to Caroline. “You know Spangler won’t listen to you. He won’t listen to Hatton, either.”

“Well, for God’s sake, shut him up,” Jon said. “I’m going to get the doctor.”

Sherry had just backed away against the wall. Jon didn’t blame her. He’d stay out of this mess, too, if he was her. But she had lost all color and was shivering.

“Are you okay?” he asked, touching her gently on the upper arm.

She nodded without answering, her eyes still drawn toward the victim’s room.

Caroline and Zane had already entered. Jon could hear Caroline talking softly to the woman.

Jon looked at Sherry again. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He didn’t want her to collapse.

“I’m fine,” she said. It looked as though her teeth were about to start chattering, but he knew that couldn’t be right; it wasn’t nearly cold enough in here.

Sherry cocked her head toward the nurses’ station. “Just go.”

Jon took off running down the hallway to find Dr. Rosemont or Nurse Carreker. Either of them would help put an end to this without damaging Jasmine Houze’s psyche further.

He found them both just moments later. Neither woman wasted time and the three of them were soon sprinting down the hallway toward the victim’s room, Jon explaining as they ran.

The doctor and nurse, along with Caroline, distracted and comforted Ms. Houze as Jon and Zane both each grabbed one of Frank Spangler’s arms.

“Wait, I’m not finished talking to her,” Spangler all but screeched.

All three women surrounding the victim turned at the same time and said, “Yes. You are.”

Fortunately, Spangler didn’t put up a fight; he just walked out, huffing as he went. Jon immediately closed the door behind them.

“You better believe the captain’s going to hear about this.” Spangler’s eyes glared at Jon as if he were personally responsible for him being kicked out of the victim’s room. The older man then turned, gathered his things and left.

That was fine. Jon didn’t care as long as Spangler wasn’t allowed near Jasmine Houze or any of the victims again. And, yes, the police captain would hear about this. Jon glanced over at Zane, who just shrugged, shaking his head.

Caroline came out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. “They’ve given Jasmine a sedative. Her family should be here soon.”

Jon looked over to where Sherry had been standing against the wall when he had last seen her. He wanted to talk to her more, to apologize for the craziness, to make sure she was all right.

And to ask her to dinner.

But she was gone.

Chapter Three (#ulink_ce45cc91-ef87-505d-8cfc-9a09aeb2992d)

The next day Jon was ready to dig a hole and bury himself in it.

For one thing, it was one million degrees outside. He missed the Rocky Mountains of Colorado Springs where Omega Sector: Critical Response Division headquarters was located. He missed the crisp air, often cool even now in June, and the ability to go out and run first thing in the morning or even in the afternoons a lot of the time, and still be pretty comfortable.

Because this face-melting heat of Corpus Christi was probably going to kill him.

Not that he would be going out for a run anytime soon. Why run outside when he could just run in circles inside Corpus Christi Police Department, accomplishing nothing?

He was sitting in Captain Harris’s office, along with Zane Wales and Frank Spangler. Spangler was categorically dismissing the complaints that had been called in against him by Jasmine Houze’s doctor. He actually called both the victim and Dr. Rosemont “irrational.”

Wales had remained silent, refusing to either confirm or deny what had happened in the hospital room.

And while Jon appreciated that the younger man probably didn’t want to get Frank Spangler in trouble just before his retirement, Zane’s silence was not helping the case. If the Corpus Christi PD wasn’t careful, they were going to lose control of the case entirely. One phone call from Jon and this case would be under federal jurisdiction rather than local.

That was a last-resort option and Jon didn’t want to do that if he didn’t have to. But he wouldn’t hesitate if something like that happened again. He’d already made that clear to Captain Harris privately.

“We’re going to need another forensic artist,” Jon said to the other men.

“Well, that’s too bad, since I’m the only one currently licensed in the county. And in our county only people licensed in forensic art are allowed to talk to witnesses or victims in an official capacity.” Spangler sat back, secure in his own importance.

“My resources aren’t limited to your county, Spangler,” Jon said. “And believe me, I would go in there with a paper and pencil myself before I would let you further traumatize another woman like yesterday.”

Spangler let out a loud huff. “You see there, Captain? This sort of unfriendly attitude is what we have to deal with all the time from Agent Hatton, all but impeding our investigation—”