Protect and Serve Don't Need A Hero Read Free

“Where’s my mommy! Please get my mommmeee!” Then she pointed to the boy next to her. “The bad man shot Mikey!”
    EMT’s with stretchers and kits yanked open the other doors and shouted in that peculiar language only the medical profession understands. That was my cue to get my little witness away. It certainly was no place for a little kid to see bullet wounds and what med-techs had to do to fix them.
    I flipped open the booster seat belt and freed her. “My name’s Apollo. Let’s get out of here, Angel Face.”
    Must have been the right thing to say. “You know my name!” Angel dove right into my arms, still clutching her teddy bear. “Let’s go find my mommy, Mr. Policeman.”
    Look, I’m as susceptible as the next guy to a cute kid who cuddles. “Yeah, let’s do that.” I pulled her out of the car and carried her away with her face buried in my chest. She didn’t need to see all that blood and gore.
    I caught a glimpse of EMTs taking care of Jeff, and that meant he was alive and in good hands. I still felt guilty about not being there for him, but I had a job to do. I hope he forgives me.
    EMTs with kits ran up to Angel and me, but as soon as they tried to take her she screamed and clung to me. They backed off when I shook my head and smiled at them. She was fine. Others needed their services a lot more.
    I planted my butt on one of the many cement benches in the shade of an oak tree and settled Angel onto my lap like my Dad had done when I’d been hurt or scared as a kid. My personal banshee didn’t seem like much of an angel, but I doubt I’d be any quieter if I’d been shot at while strapped into a safety seat watching my mother and brother die. “It’s okay, Angel. They just wanted to see if the bad man hurt you too.”
    The screaming into my uniform front stopped. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so scared! He didn’t hurt me!” I swear she tried to burrow into my chest. “Please go find my mommy, Mr. Policeman. Her name is Marissa Burlingame, and I even know our phone number.” Those big intelligent eyes looked up so trustingly, I probably melted a little. So I have a heart, okay? She certainly was articulate for a little pipsqueak. “But you know it too. Police know everything!”
    I caught a glimpse of the woman’s stretcher being loaded up into the ambulance. Another ambulance sped off down the road with lights and sirens going full out. “I think your mommy and Mikey are going to the hospital, Angel. Would you like to go too?”
    I noticed the Channel 25 videographer only a few feet away and frowned at her to back up a little. Yeah, they could have their story, but I needed the info out of Angel before they did. Despite her age, she seemed bright enough to give me all I needed.
    “Did you get Mommy on the phone already?” Angel smiled up worshipfully. I don’t like using that word, but she apparently believed that I, as a cop, was perfect. I don’t like pedestals, and I don’t like being someone’s hero. The standards are kind of high. “Is Aunt Petey going to the hospital with Mikey? The bad man sat on her an’ beat her up!” Angel stuck out her chin, the epitome of outraged femininity. Men didn’t beat up on women in her world. I’ll bet she still believes in fairy tales too. I envied her.
    I finally got what Angel was saying. The woman victim was “Aunt Petey” and not her mommy. “Yeah, I think Aunt Petey went with Mikey because they’re both hurt. Why don’t we call your mommy and have her meet us at the hospital?” I pulled out my personal cell.
    Kids are tech savvy little buggers. Using the cell to call her mommy put her in control, and gave her something to think about besides what she’d just been through. The police psych training recommended giving victims that measure of control if they were up to the challenge, and it seemed to work with Angel. “Yeah, you keep me safe, Mr. Policeman. I’ll call Mommy.” Angel dialed the phone expertly, put it