Safe Harbor Page 5

  She waved to Paul Smith as she pulled into the small lot behind the Municipal Building. Paul was one of the young officers who worked the night shift, and they knew each other only well enough to say hello.

  "Quiet night?" Reese called.

  "Yeah," he said as he unlocked the door to his Dodge truck. "Couple of drunks needed an escort home. I swung by the clinic a few times like you asked. The doc left at midnight - after that it was like a tomb. Its not warm enough for much action in the dunes yet."

  The Park Rangers patrolled the dunes during the day, but at night they left it to the Sheriffs department. Soon the three miles of sand along Herring Cove would be packed with bathers and would-be lovers. The dunes above the beach and along Route Six were favorite areas for rendezvous. The police kept people out of the dunes to protect the habitat as much as to deter the sex and drugs. Reese didnt particularly like the duty, but it was part of the job.

  No one was in the office, so she took advantage of the quiet to finish time schedules, make up duty rosters, and to peruse recent crime reports from nearby townships. Sooner or later whatever trouble the other towns had would filter down to her community. She was about to brew another pot of coffee and was starting to contemplate lunch when the scanner picked up a 911 call to the EMT station in Wellfleet.

  "A guy fell out on the Long Point jetty," an anxious male voice reported. "It looks like his leg is twisted in some rocks and hes bleeding all over the place-"

  Reese was up and through the door before the passerby finished giving the information to the dispatcher in the town fifteen miles away. She was two minutes from the scene. Long Point jetty was a long finger of rocks that formed a protective arch between Provincetown harbor and the Atlantic Ocean. It stretched a good two miles and was a favorite tourist attraction. Unfortunately, people often underestimated how treacherous the huge slabs of rock could be, especially when still wet from high tide. A crowd was visible as she swung around Bradford Street, angling her cruiser across the road to prevent access to more curious onlookers. People parted for her rather reluctantly as they pushed out onto the jetty, jostling for a better look. All Reese could see was another crowd milling about several hundred yards further out on the rocky causeway, presumably the site of the accident. She started toward them as quickly as she could, her progress hampered by the poor footing on rocks which were slippery with the debris left by the receding tides. The jetty was comprised of angled blocks of stone piled adjacent to one another, forming a discontinuos walkway. There were large gaps between some slabs, requiring her to jump from one uneven surface to the other. She had gone about a hundred yards, moving as rapidly as she could, when she overtook Victoria King, who was cautiously making her way toward the gathered crowd.

  Reese was having trouble keeping her own balance; navigating this surface with a cane and a leg brace was suicide! Reese slipped her hand under the doctors elbow to guide her down the steep surface she was descending, saying as she did, "You shouldnt be out here, Doctor."

  Torys temper flared as she looked up at the taller woman. The angry reply died on her lips when all she found in the blue eyes that met her gaze was a quiet concern. There was no condescension, and thankfully, no trace of pity.

  "Youre absolutely right, Sheriff - but here I am."

  "Why dont you let me go up ahead and see what the situation is. The EMTs should be here in five or ten minutes," Reese suggested.

  Tory put her hand on Reeses shoulder to steady herself as she pushed up onto the next rock face. "Why dont you go up ahead and get that crowd under control so Ill have room to work when I get there," she rejoined. "I need to be sure that whoevers trapped down there isnt bleeding to death. I made it this far - Ill be fine."

  Reese knew the plan made sense. She wasnt sure why she didnt want to leave the doctor alone, but some instinctive desire to safeguard her made Reese want to protest. Stomach tight with tension, she yielded to reason. Her training was too ingrained to allow individual concerns to interfere with logic.

  "Right. Just be careful, will you?"

  "Yes - now go."

  By the time Tory reached the scene, Reese had enlisted a few of the onlookers to keep the others back away from where a man lay twisted among the boulders. His leg seemed to disappear into a crevice between two angled sheets of stone. Reese was kneeling, her back to Tory as Tory inched her way down the rockface toward them. Tory gasped when Reese glanced up at her. The sheriffs face and shirt were streaked with blood.

  "Are you hurt?" she questioned anxiously as she slid the last two feet.

  "No, its his," Reese grunted with effort as she inclined her head toward the man who lay wedged in the rocks. Blood welled up from the wound in his leg, a gaping tear which Reese was attempting to hold closed with both hands.

  "Open tibia fracture," Tory assessed as she searched for the pulse in his neck. It was faint and thready. "Hes pretty shocky. We need to get this bleeding stopped." She pressed two fingers into his groin over the femoral artery and the steady stream of blood from the open wound slowed to a trickle. "Reese, theres a towel in my knapsack. Tear it in half and wrap the wound closed as tight as you can."

  Reese let go of her hold on the injured mans leg. "EMTs are here," she said as she finished the compression bandage. A siren signaled the rescue vehicles approach.

  "Good," Tory gasped. "My arm is fatiguing."

  "Want me to take it?" Reese offered.

  "No, youd better go give them a hand. We need their equipment out here. And tell them we need the hydraulic jaws to shift these stones."

  "Ill be right back," Reese said, unable to keep the concern from her voice.

  "Im fine," Tory assured her.

  The few minutes it took for Reese to return carrying one of the equipment cases seemed like hours as Tory crouched awkwardly in the cramped space, afraid to move lest she lose her tenuous hold on the artery beneath her fingers. She was starting to develop spasms in her own injured leg from the bent position she was kneeling in. She gritted her teeth and cleared her mind, focusing only on the next thing she needed to do.

  "I need to start an IV," she said as Reese dropped down beside her. "Can you get the line and the bag ready, then take over the compression?"

  "One minute," Reese said as she tore the plastic wrapper off the tubing and saline bag with her teeth. Behind her the two EMTs were trying to find a place to wedge the hydraulic jack between the rocks. "Okay," she said, placing her hands on Victorias, following her fingers down to the artery. She pressed inward so Tory could let go.

  Tory reached behind her for the emergency kit, pulling out a length of soft rubber tubing and wrapping it around the mans upper arm. She found a large bore IV needle and expertly slid it into the antecubital vein in the bend of his elbow. She attached the tubing Reese had readied and allowed the saline to run in at top speed.

  "How much longer?" Tory called to the techs, a worried frown on her face. "This guys in trouble. He needs blood, and if I dont get the fracture at least partially reduced he could lose his foot."

  "These rocks are going to shift all over the place when we activate the jack," the taller of the two female paramedics warned. "Its not safe where you are. Youre going to have to get out of there."

  Tory looked at the steady trickle of blood from the compound fracture in her patients leg and shook her head. "Weve only got this partially controlled as it is. If we reduce the compression, he may bleed out. Let me get back in there, Sheriff. Ill keep the artery tamponaded."

  Reese looked up over her shoulder at Tory. Her face showed no trace of strain. "Hes going to need you a lot more than me when they get him out of here. Youd better climb back out of the way. Im staying with him."

  The fear took Tory by surprise. She had a sudden image of Reese pinned under tons of rock, and something close to panic clutched at her throat. She didnt want Reese to be the one in danger when that jack started.

  "No!" she started to argue.

  "This is my call to make, doctor.
You worry about keeping him alive. Now climb up out of here."

  The tone of unrelenting command was unwavering. Reese turned her attention back to the injured man, the conversation clearly at an end.

  Tory knew there was no other way, and no more time to argue. "For gods sake, be careful," she murmured as she carefully pulled herself up the steep rockface to safety.

  "Are your legs clear?" one of the EMTs called.

  "All clear," Reese responded.

  When they activated the power jack, bits of stone chips and sand filled the air, clouding Torys view of the chasm where Reese and the victim were wedged. As the grating noise from the shifting rocks subsided, she peered anxiously downward. She could just make out Reeses tall form hunched over the injured man.

  "Are you okay?" she cried.

  "Yeah," Reese gasped. "But hes slipping down into the crevice. I need a harness of some kind - fast!" Her arms were straining to hold up his dead weight, and she was afraid she might lose him.

  One of the EMTs threw her a harness and a guide line, and moments later they had the victim up. They secured him to a backboard while Tory adjusted an inflatable splint over the mass trousers they applied to improve his blood flow.

  "Take him to the heliport in Dennis," she said. "He needs to be air-vaced to Boston. Run two IVs wide open, and give him whatever plasma substitutes you have. Give him a loading dose of Ancef, too."

  As soon as they left she turned worriedly to Reese, who was bent over trying to catch her breath.

  "Let me check you out," Tory said.

  "Im okay," Reese panted. "Just a little winded. I almost lost him there at the end."

  "Well, you didnt," Tory replied as she ignored the sheriff's protests and quickly examined her. "Youve got a lot of small cuts on your hands, but I think we can forego stitches today."

  Reese held up her hands tiredly, looking at them as if she were seeing them for the first time. "Just little nicks from the stone chips," she noted with a shrug.

  Tory nodded. "Are you ready for the hike back?"

  Reese got to her feet, her strength returning. "Im ready when you are," she said.

  Tory took one step and grimaced. She wasnt going to make it without help. The muscles in her injured leg were strained from the arduous and unaccustomed climbing, and beginning to cramp. She didnt think she could trust her balance.

  "Im in a little trouble here," she admitted.

  Reese searched her face in concern. "What can I do?"

  "If I lean on you, I should be able to make it."

  Reese slipped one strong arm around Torys waist, holding her securely. "Lets just take it slow," she said, guiding them over the treacherous rocks.

  When they finally reached the end of the causeway, they both sank gratefully onto a stone bench provided for sightseers.

  "Thank you," Tory said quietly. She hadnt needed nor sought assistance from anyone in a long time. She was surprised it didnt bother her more. There was something about the implacable deputy sheriff that made accepting her help easy. Reese radiated strength and self-assuredness, but there was also a simplicity about her that was captivating. She saw a problem, she dealt with it, she made no judgements. Despite her competence and air of command, there was never a hint of superiority or condescension. Tory couldnt remember ever having met anyone quite like her. Certainly no one had ever made her feel so safe without making her feel diminished.

  "Youre getting to be indispensable around this town, Sheriff," Tory added sincerely.

  Reese shrugged. "Id like to think Im earning my pay." She looked at Tory thoughtfully. "That took real courage for you to make it out there today. That guy doesnt know how lucky he is that you were there. Howd you know?"

  Tory blushed at the compliment and spoke hurriedly to cover her embarrassment. "You forget that this is Provincetown! Probably everyone in town knows that I swim at the Inn on my lunch hour! Its just across the street, so when someone ran in to make the 911 call, the manager came to get me. I would have gotten to him a lot sooner if it hadnt been for this damn leg!"

  "You did a great job," Reese remarked. She sighed, stretching her stiff muscles. "Can I buy you some lunch?"

  Torys tried to ignore the racing of her heart. She was certain Reese was just being friendly. "Thanks, but Im already late for the clinic. Im going to be backed up all evening at this rate."

  Reese nodded. "It was good working with you, Dr. King. Im going to head on home to change into a uniform that isnt filled with sand."

  "Youve still got sutures that need to come out," Tory reminded her.

  Reese fingered the row of nylon stitches in her brow. "How about if I come by the clinic later?" she offered.

  Tory smiled ruefully. "Im sure Ill be there. Tonights my late night anyhow."

  Reese stood looking down at her, her face partially shaded by the brim of her hat. She was an imposing figure outlined against the clear blue of the sky. Tory had to work not to stare at her taut, sleek body.

  "Ill be by," Reese informed her.

  "Good," Tory said as Reese strode away. Tory couldn't resist watching her go. She moved with a fluid self-assuredness that suited her vigorous personality. There wasnt a single thing about her that wasnt attractive, and that was enough to warn Tory to be on her guard. Every unattached woman in Provincetown, and not a few of the married ones, would be taking a second look at this new addition to the scenery. That was exactly the kind of woman Tory needed to stay far away from!

  Chapter Seven

  Marge greeted Reese with a grin when she walked into the gym that afternoon after work. "I thought you might not make it," she said.

  Reese glanced up at the clock behind Marges head. It read five-thirty, exactly the same time she arrived for her workout every evening.

  "How come?" she asked in surprise. "I said Id be here."

  Marge shrugged elaborately. "Silly me! I should have known that was as good as a guarantee!!"

  Reese just shrugged at the gentle chiding and set about her routine. She finished three sets of leg and back exercises in ninety minutes, then went to the locker room to shower. She put on pressed tan chinos, a navy blue denim shirt, and a light beige blazer that covered the holster she secured under her left arm in a shoulder rig. She checked the mirror - the gun didnt show - and went out to meet Marge.

  They walked down Commercial Street toward town and turned in at the Cactus Flower. It was still too early in the season to worry about reservations, but that would change within the next few days. They got a good table at the front windows overlooking the street, so they could watch the slow stroll of passersby as they dined. They both ordered margaritas while they looked over the menu.

  "This isnt a date, you know," Marge announced after they had given their orders to the waitress.

  Reese sipped her drink - it was strong and tart, and gazed at the woman across from her calmly. "It hadnt occurred to me that it might be."

  Marge laughed. "This is Provincetown, Sheriff! When one woman asks another woman out to dinner, its usually a date."

  Reese nodded solemnly. "Then why isnt this a date?"

  Marge stared back, totally nonplussed. The startling handsome woman across from her was impossible to figure out. She gave nothing away in her expression, or her voice. Nothing seemed to surprise her, or throw her off stride. Marge wondered what, if anything, could shake her calm control. She also wondered what price that kind of control exacted.

  Reese seemed completely without pretense, and Marge answered in kind. "Its not a date for two reasons - my expectations, and my intentions."

  "How so?" Reese inquired. She voiced no challenge, only honest interest.

  "Id be a fool to think youd be interested in me. For one thing, Im twenty years older than you-"

  Reese smiled at that, shaking her head. "Hardly," she said, studying Marges tanned, well-developed form.

  "Close enough," Marge grunted.

  Reese waited while the silence grew. "And the other reason?" she asked quie
tly.

  Marge blushed as she said, "Youre too damn butch to go for an old jock like me. I figure your tastes run more to the femme type."

  Reese leaned back while the waitress slid their plates in front of them, contemplating Marges words. Marge was the second person in as many weeks to say that to her. She had never thought of herself as butch, and tried to imagine how she appeared to others. It was something with which she had no experience. Up until this point in her life, her rank had determined how others related to her, and how she related to them. The rules of conduct, including who you could "fraternize" with, were clear. They were frequently circumvented, but not by Reese. It wasnt that she agreed with the rules so much as she had no reason to challenge them. She had spent her life either preparing to be, or being, an officer. Her professional and personal life was one and the same.

  "Im not so sure about the butch thing, but Im pretty sure I dont have any particular "type" of anything," she said after a moment.

  Marge snorted as she busied herself with her food. "Trust me on this, Sheriff - if you go in for the politically incorrect terminology, you are as butch as it gets. Dont let it bother you."

  Reese smiled. "Well, whatever you call it, it comes naturally to me. So - this is just a friendly dinner then?"

  "Yes."

  "Fair enough."

  "Since were being all revealing here," Marge continued, "howd you end up in our little town?"