Chapter 1

When the figure stepped out in front of her car, Jocelyne knew she was in trouble.

She cursed her alarm clock for not going off. She cursed the sun whose glare had prevented her from seeing the radar speed trap. She cursed her own lead foot.

Pulling over to the designated area, she tried to fight the nerves. This was it, she thought, the jig was up. It had been a good run while it had lasted, but here, on this strip of highway in British Columbia, it was coming to an end. She could see the sign in the distance welcoming her to Mission City. Some welcome, she thought with disgust.

She hit the switch on the door to lower the power window. The police officer was wearing black pants with yellow stripes down the sides, a grey coloured short sleeved shirt with insignia on the shoulder, a black cap, a bullet proof vest, and a gun.

He was tall, she thought, as he strode towards her. At least six feet, if she didn't miss her mark. The hair that was visible beneath the cap was closely cropped and a shade of light sandy brown. The eyes were hidden behind sunglasses.

At least one of them had common sense this morning, she thought, as she added cursing the sunglasses she had left on the kitchen table this morning in her haste to get to work.

Swallowing she put on her most genial smile. "How can I help you this morning, officer?"

"It's Constable Jacobs," he said abruptly. Then he gave her a long, level look. She felt the scrutiny, even if she couldn't see the eyes. "This is a nice vehicle."

How was she supposed to answer that?

"Well, yes, it is."

"Gets up to a good speed."

"Yes, I suppose it does."

"Were you aware that you were going one hundred and eight kilometres in an eighty zone?"

She tried to smile but faltered. "I can honestly say I was not aware. Honestly, Sir, I don't speed. If you check my record, you'll see that I've never had a speeding ticket."

She cringed. Had she really just said that? Invited him to check her driving record? How could she be so stupid?

"When you're driving thirty kilometres over the limit it's an automatic impoundment," he said, his tone mild and conversational.

She wasn't fooled for an instant.

"May I have your licence and registration?"

Swallowing, she reached for the papers in her purse. Maybe, just maybe, her name wouldn't pop. Maybe no one had noticed she was gone. Sure, and the Pope was about to renounce being a Catholic and embrace atheism. So she handed over the requisite paperwork.

"I'm going to write you a ticket. Stay here and I'll be right back."

Figuring she had about five minutes of freedom left, Jocelyne began to formulate a plan. Or at least she tried to. In the end, stark terror blanked her mind.

To hell with it, she thought, as she leapt from the car. She started to jog towards the policeman. "Officer!"

He whirled, one hand on the butt of his gun and the other held out to stop her in her tracks. "Ma'am, I told you to stay in your vehicle."

A dozen feet separated them. Jocelyne held up her hands in the universal 'I'm not a criminal' gesture and took slow and steady steps to close the distance. He had lowered his hand, but still she didn't dare step within his personal space.

"Look..." What had he said his name was? "Look, Constable Jacobs, I'm sure we can work this out. Maybe you can tell me how much the ticket is and I can pay now." She gesture back towards her car. "I have cash."

"Are you trying to bribe a member of the RCMP?"

Her eyes widened. "Of course not. I just thought that if I could pay the ticket..."

"Look, I don't know how things operate in Québec, but here in BC, we issue a ticket through proper channels and you earn demerit points. Your insurance goes up because you're a risk to the public. You," he pointed to her, "ma'am, are a danger to the public."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another policeman step onto the road to flag down another speeding motorist. Suddenly she was being bodily thrown away from the road. The wind was knocked out of her when she hit the pavement, half-sprawled on top of the cop.

Then she heard the crash. Metal clashed with metal, glass shattered, debris flew everywhere. The police cruiser was hit so hard that it was pushed towards the side of the road. Pushed towards them. It stopped mere inches from her and Jocelyne stared at the black rubber bumper.

"Are you okay?" The question was brusque.

It took her only a moment to realize that any injuries she might have were not serious. She was shaken, bumped and bruised, but she wasn't broken.

"I'm fine," she said, grateful for the air which had come back into her lungs.

He all but threw her off of him and was up in a run. From her vantage point, she could see that the speeding vehicle was long gone.

"Frank!"

The tone of the Constable's voice had her hairs standing on end. Heedless of the pain as her palms hit gravel, she scrambled to her feet. She ran around the side of the cruiser and saw the man lying in the road, about twenty feet away. Her first instinct was that no one could survive that kind of impact.

Then her training kicked in and she remembered that someone wasn't dead until it was proven there were no signs of life. Since she hadn't proven that, there was still a chance. Slim chance, but a chance nonetheless. Glancing behind her, she saw that traffic had come to a halt. So she ran to Frank to begin her work.

Constable Jacobs was kneeling on one side so she knelt on the other. She felt the glass slice through her linen trousers, but she didn't care. Reaching out to his neck, she checked for a pulse.

Shock was quick, like a knock to the chest, as she found it. It was weak and slow, but it was there. She looked up at the Constable. "Have you called this in?"

His sunglasses had been knocked off and she was met with wild hazel eyes. "What?"

"Call it in. We need an ambulance. Tell them we've got a hit-and-run fifty year old male with impact injuries. Tell them he's unconscious."

Still, the Constable was staring at her. Whether from shock or something else, she couldn't be sure. "You call it in and then bring me your first aid kit. Find out if any other bystanders have medical training and then come back here. By then I should have a better assessment for you." For good measure, she added, "move!"

Her words must have penetrated because he went back towards the mangled car.

She began from the top. Frank's airway was open and he was breathing. They were laboured breaths, but they were there. He might have a punctured lung, but, for now, air was moving in and out. Doing a quick external survey she found his pants torn. She pulled it back and found a huge gash on his leg. Blood wasn't gushing, but it was oozing far more than she was comfortable with. She pressed her hands to the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.

A first aid kit was dropped next to her and the Constable was about to drop down again when she waylaid him. "There's a black bag on the floor behind the passenger seat in my car. Go get it!"

He looked at her as if she were crazy. "You're worried about some stupid briefcase-"

"It's my medical kit," she spat out. "I need it. And how long until the paramedics get here?"

"The fire truck is about eight minutes out. Hopefully the EMTs will be here right after that."

Time, she thought desperately. She was fighting against time.

He was about to leave when she grabbed his pant leg. "How far to the closest level one trauma centre?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Can you get me a helicopter?"

"It's already on the way."

More beautiful words she had never heard. She wiped her bloodied hands on her white pants and then she unzipped the first aid kit, reaching for a pair of gloves. She was snapping them on when he heard approaching footsteps.

"My name is Anika and I know first aid. Can I help?"

Jocelyne gave her one quick glance and figured the girl to be no more than twenty, but she was willing to take any help she could get.

"I need you to come here. Put on gloves and then you're going to hold the gauze in place. I hope you're not squeamish."

The young woman offered a quick grin. "Nope, I loved dissection class."

As soon as Anika had gloves on, Jocelyne pulled out every piece of gauze she could find. "Put as much pressure as you can, okay?"

"Yeah, no problem."

Reassured the bleeding would ease, she carefully undid the Velcro holding the vest in place.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Jocelyne didn't even look up, but began unbuttoning the shirt. "Did you bring my bag?"

The Constable dropped to his knees. "Yeah, I got it."

She stripped off the bloody gloves.

"Give me gloves."

It took a second, but they were dropped in her hands and she was snapping them on.

"Get me my stethoscope."

Within moments, it was in her hands. She placed it above Frank's heart.

"Merde," she whispered under her breath. Her ears perked up as she could hear the sirens in the distance. She listened to the breathing sounds and swore again.

"I need my penlight."

Again, within moments, it was in her hands. She pulled back Frank's eyelids and checked his pupils. It was the first good sign she had seen. Both were equal and reactive. How it had happened, she wasn't sure, but he didn't appear to have a head injury.

The one siren died in time for her to hear the distinctive second siren of an ambulance. Still, she continued to check vital signs, now trying to figure out how she would present and wondering to whom she would be presenting.

She heard someone yell to make way for the EMTs.

A little sprite of a woman dropped down across from her. Flaming red hair was pulled into a ruthless ponytail and green eyes flashed. "My name is Rory, I'm a paramedic. This is my partner, Sawyer." Sawyer had hair which looked bleached it was so blonde and beautiful blue eyes.

Jocelyne suspected Rory was about to ask her to step back when she spotted the stethoscope hanging around her neck.

"You a doctor?"

"Something like that," Jocelyne muttered and then she pulled herself together. "Hit and run at high velocity. Pupils equal and reactive. Muffled chest sounds. I think it's pericardial bleeding. The vest took a lot of the impact, but there are probably broken ribs and I suspect a pneumothorax. Broken bones in both legs with a substantial laceration but not penetrative injury. Heart rate is steady at 45. I didn't have time to get a blood pressure."

"The flight paramedics will do that on the way to the hospital." Even as Rory said the words, the helicopter could be heard in the distance. Then, right under her hands, Frank jerked.

Her first thought was seizure when Anika spoke. "I don't think he can breathe."

Rory moved to Frank's mouth while Jocelyne put her stethoscope to his chest. She strained to hear the wheezing above the sound of the blades.

"Merde." Short, sweet, and straight to the point.

"Come again?" Rory was looking at her with a concerned expression on her face.

"I need to insert a chest tube."

Rory's eyes widened. "Paramedics don't do chest tubes."

"How about a needle thoracentesis?"

She shook her head. "I've never done one."

"Look, he's going to suffocate if we don't re-inflate the lung. Just give me the damn needle."

"And lose my job? I don't think so."

Jocelyne was getting desperate as Frank's breathing worsened. "Are you qualified to do the thoracentesis?"

Rory eyed her warily. "Yes, but-"

"Fine, I'll talk you through it."

"I'll go to the rig and get the needle." With that, Sawyer was gone. Not waiting for permission, Jocelyne began tracing the ribcage.

"Do you have Lidocaine?"

"Sawyer will bring in along with the fourteen-gauge." Rory looked at Frank's colour which was now grey due to lack of oxygen in the blood. "Okay, you show me how."

Sawyer came back and bent down next to Rory. The young man was vibrating with excitement and Jocelyne had to hold herself back from chastising him. The first time she had done the needle puncture procedure, she'd been nervous but pumped. Now she was going to teach.

"Apply the Lidocaine there."

Rory complied.

"Now, you're going to insert the needle in the second intercostal space."

Rory did as she was told. Jocelyne watched the needle intently.

"How do I-" Rory's question was cut off by her sharp intake in breath. "I think I've got it."

Jocelyne nodded. "Now withdraw the needle while holding the catheter in place. You should hear the air escaping." How anything could be heard with the whirling of the blades, Jocelyne didn't know, but the look on Rory's face told her they had been successful so she turned to Sawyer. "Tape it down and then you're ready to go."

He did that while Rory attached the cervical collar and then they began to transition so the flight crew paramedics could take over.

"We've got this," Rory said. "But you did a great job for a 'something like that' doctor."

Jocelyne offered a small smile and then pushed herself into a standing position, stepping away from her patient so the emergency workers could do their work.

Not her patient, she reminded herself. She wasn't a doctor anymore.

Her knees were screaming in agony from the cuts, but she just breathed through the pain. She could withstand this, she told herself. She had withstood worse.

The back wash from the helicopter was strong as it touched down and Jocelyne held up her hand to shield her eyes. Her blonde hair, which had been so neatly pulled into a bun with a clip just an hour ago, was now flying around her face. She watched as Frank, now on the backboard, was loaded onto the gurney and wheeled over to the chopper. He was in good hands, she knew, but she still felt the pang. If he needed surgery, she wanted to be the one with the scalpel in her hand.

A firm hand gripped her elbow and she looked up to see a fireman. "We're going to try to clear part of the road so traffic can get through. I need to look at you."

"It's not my blood."

"I know that. I'm talking about your knees." She looked down where the fabric was torn.

Belatedly, Jocelyne remembered the stiff movements and gait of the man who had thrown her out of the path of a moving car and taken the brunt of their impact with the pavement.

"You need to see to Constable Jacobs first."

"Seth says he's fine."

"Well he's lying. He might have a cracked rib and his shoulder took the brunt of the impact. Don't let him get away without being seen. He should have x-rays as well." She knew the type. "He's going to put up a fuss, but you're the first medical responder. Get him to a hospital."

The fireman nodded. "Then you'll let me look at your knee?"

She nodded, knowing she was going to do no such thing. She watched as he walked over to Constable Jacobs and a discussion began. They weren't looking at her, so she eased her way back to her car. Reaching in the window, she snagged her purse. Counting out two hundred dollars, she looked around for a place to put it. She spotted the Constable's cap and made her way over to it. She was able to slide the bills under the flap where they would be secured. Locating her insurance papers and licence, she slid them back into her purse.

Moving casually, she went back to her car and slid into the driver's seat, ignoring all the muscles in her body which were making themselves known now that the adrenaline was slipping from her. She secured her seatbelt, started the ignition and rolled up the window. Then she spotted a break in the traffic being directed around the accident. The other driver indicated she could proceed and she slipped into the spot, then was waved on by another police officer.

As she drove past the accident scene, she saw Anika talking to a police officer while the Constable argued with the fireman. One last glance as she was waved past and Jocelyne saw her medical bag, still sitting in the middle of the road. Her stethoscope was still around her neck, but everything else was a write-off. A small price to pay for getting away, she thought sadly, as she increased her speed to keep up with traffic.

This time, she was mindful of her speed.

"Look, Finn, we can have this argument all day long, I don't need a doctor."

The fireman was completely unmoved and unmovable, Seth saw in frustration. They were actually good friends, but now each was trying to do his job and those jobs were coming into conflict. Seth wanted to question witnesses and find the son of a bitch who had run down his partner. Finn was trying to do his job as a medical first responder and treat the injured.

"Even the doctor said you need to be seen by a doctor."

Seth's eyes narrowed. "What doctor?"

"The lady who was treating Frank. She's a doctor, right? I mean with the stethoscope and the med kit, she seemed like an MD."

Now Seth found himself a little off-balance. "Yeah, I guess she was a doctor. I didn't check her credentials, because she seemed to know what she was doing." He took a breath and tried not to wince. "I hate to say this, but I didn't handle things so well."

Finn nodded understandingly. "Frank's your partner. I know it's not supposed to be, but when it's family you react differently. My uncle had a heart attack at a family picnic and I think I stood there for about a minute with everybody watching me. Actually it was probably about ten seconds, but it felt like forever. It just wasn't registering because he wasn't that old and we thought he was healthy. Turns out he just had a bad ticker."

"That's rough," Seth said, thinking it wasn't the same thing. He should have been on his game. He'd acted like a rookie instead of the seven-year veteran that he was, taking orders from a civilian, no less. Had she been a doctor? She certainly hadn't identified herself as such, that he was sure he would have remembered.

What did he remember? Five foot eight, honey blonde hair, deep blue eyes and with a figure a man could salivate over. He'd ascertained everything except her height when he'd stepped to her car. The height had come when she'd gotten out of the vehicle. Hadn't he told her to stay where she was? He'd nearly pulled his gun on her when he'd realized she'd exited her vehicle.

Now, he realized she was the only other witness. He hadn't gotten a licence plate and he suspected she hadn't either, but she might have seen something. Aside from the red paint transfer at the level of what would be a truck or an SUV, there was very little to go on.

He snapped his fingers. It had been a pick-up truck. Older model, probably a domestic. Ford, GM, something like that. How many of those could there be in the area? With significant front-end damage, of course. His cruiser had been demolished although a lot of the damaged had been caused when it had been slammed into the guardrail.

"Seth, man, you're zoning on me."

Finn's voice was penetrating through the haze of memories. "I was just replaying the accident in my mind."

"And you're sure you didn't hit your head?"

Seth did a quick check of his brain. He had a headache, yes, but he hadn't hit it on anything.

"Yeah, no, I'm okay." He glanced around. "Where's the woman?"

Finn turned to point at a spot on the shoulder of the road which was now deserted. He turned back to Seth. "Well, I left her by the railing. I just figured she would stay there, you know?"

Knowing what he would find, but checking anyway, Seth looked to where her car had been parked. Had being the operative word. Unsurprisingly, the car was gone.

"Damn it."

His friend glanced around. "She's got to be here somewhere. I mean her knee was cut pretty badly."

"Finn, the woman's car is gone. I suspect it didn't drive itself out of here." Seth took a deep breath in frustration and this time he couldn't hide the wince.

Instantly alert, Finn opened the Velcro on the bullet-proof vest and placed a hand to Seth's rib cage.

The policeman let out a stream of curses. Then he glared at the fireman. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Finn only shrugged. "If you don't get into the back of the ambulance then I'll get one of your compatriots to hold a gun on you. I would bet you that you have broken ribs, but I only bet fair."

Seth was about to argue when another man stepped forward. "Seth, have you been checked out?"

Now, Seth knew that argument was futile. He might be able to get away with being rude to Finn because they were friends, but he couldn't do the same thing to his superior officer.

"No, Sergeant, I haven't been checked out yet."

"I'm going to pretend you have a really good excuse, but we both know that it's probably bull." He pointed to the ambulance where Rory and Sawyer were standing, waiting for him. The paramedics on the chopper had taken over Frank's care, which left the dynamic duo ready and able to take care of him. Suddenly, Seth was too tired to argue. So, he nodded.

"There is one odd thing."

Sergeant Greg Wilder merely raised an eyebrow. "Only one?"

"When you get my report, you'll know there was a civilian on-site. A civilian who rendered considerable service. Most likely a medical professional."

"Okay, where is this civilian?"

Now Seth cringed. "She's gone. I pulled her over for speeding and was heading to the cruiser when she exited her vehicle and proceeded to follow me." He paused, trying to find a way to down-play the next part. "I saw the oncoming vehicle and moved us both out of the way."

"And you did that how?"

"By...body checking her to the ground."

Now Greg was eyeing him warily. He glanced down and saw Seth's torn shirt. "Okay, you've got thirty seconds to finish this conversation and then you're in Rory's hands for as long as she wants you."

Not an idle threat.

"During the confusion, the civilian - who was also injured - got in her car and fled the scene."

"Fled the scene? That's great. We have a Good Samaritan who rendered assistance and is now in the wind? Aside from the speeding, did she do anything else illegal?"

In other words, did they have cause to chase her? Seth cringed. "No, but something was off about her. She really did not want me to write that ticket."

Greg's eyebrow rose. "Find me someone who wants a ticket and I'll faint from shock."

"We need to find her."

Now Greg considered. "Okay. At the very least, she's a witness. It would also be nice if we could thank her. Do you know her?"

Shaking his head, Seth had a memory. "She's from out of province. She had Québec plates and was driving a BMW Seven Series sedan. Black. Looked to be the latest model year, except it was covered in dirt. Like it had been driving for a long time without being through a carwash."

"Do you think she was driving through?"

"Yeah, possibly. I mean I can't imagine she would be from around here."

"I'll alert local jurisdictions. We can stop her, but I'm not sure we can hold her."

"She fled the scene of an accident," Seth argued.

"After rendering assistance. I shouldn't need to point out she wasn't even required to do that much." Greg paused. "Now, that was more than thirty seconds. Are you going to walk over to Rory or am I going to call her over here?"

Seth's chest was throbbing, but he had his pride. "I'll walk," he said.

"Good, now, do you remember the woman's name?"

Searching his memory, he came up blank. "Sorry, Sir, but I don't."

"No worries. I'm going to call and see if I can get a status update on Frank."

"Yeah, that would be good."

All thoughts of the Good Samaritan fled as Seth put himself in Rory's hands and offered up a silent prayer for his partner.

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