LITMIR.BIZ

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to make her way back to her car, Jackie paused when she heard a faint wail. Unlike the cries and moans around her, this one was higher pitched and as steady as a stream of water from a faucet. The sound was unmistakable to anyone who’d heard it before.

      A baby.

      Jackie’s heart jammed up in her throat. The cry was coming from the other side of the tipped trailer. Dropping to her knees, she could see the front end of a station wagon that had been trapped under the collapsed rig. She tried calling out to the mother or father of the infant, but no one responded.

      Sick fear momentarily froze her as she eyed the huge barrier that stood in her way. She had to get to that baby. But the vehicle was sandwiched between the overturned rig and the burned-out sedan.

      Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked up with disbelief. It was the motorcycle cop. He’d removed his helmet and his light brown hair was damp with sweat.

      Their eyes met with common understanding. He’d heard the cries, too.

      “You a doctor?”

      “Nurse.”

      He paused, then nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s help that kid.” He laced his fingers and, without a second thought, she placed her sandaled foot on the perch.

      “One, two, three…” He heaved as she reached up and soon she was standing on what had once been the side of the trailer. She scrambled quickly across it, the metal hard on her bare knees. The cop followed. He was right next to her when she finally spotted the remains of the trapped vehicle. The front half was completely crushed under the back end of the trailer. In the rear seat, she could see the outline of an infant carrier.

      “Shit.”

      She shared the cop’s opinion.

      He held out his hand again and helped her down to solid ground. “Be careful of the glass,” he said. He shrugged out of his leather jacket and used it to kneel on so he could take a look inside the front seat of the car.

      She turned away, focusing on the wailing baby. The rear door was jammed, but the window had smashed into a million pieces. Heeding the cop’s warning, she slipped off a sandal and used it to sweep away the residue. Thanks to safety regulations, vehicles were now manufactured with window glass that disintegrated into relatively harmless pebbles. Still, she was careful to ensure that the glass pellets fell to the ground and not into the car with the baby.

      “Hey, sweetie,” she called softly. “Are you okay in there?”

      The wailing halted, but only for a split second. She was encouraged that the baby had responded, even momentarily, to the sound of her voice. She leaned in through the window for a closer look.

      “Oh, God.” Instinctively she pulled back. Closed her eyes.

      “What’s wrong?” Still on the ground trying to see into the front seat, the cop must have heard her cry out.

      “This baby’s only a few months old. His face is covered with blood.” She steeled herself to reach out to the infant. Pulling aside the blue blanket he’d been wrapped in allowed her a closer look at his face. Shattered glass lay all around him, but not from the window. These shards were from something else.

      She spotted the plastic frame of a mirror and shook her head at the mother’s foolishness.

      “You’re going to be okay, sweetie. Let me see if I can get you out of that car seat.” She would have preferred to leave him in the padded carrier, but no way would she be able to get the awkward thing through the window. Quickly she released the metal catch at the bottom, then pushed aside the canvas straps.

      “Okay, baby. You’re coming out.” As gently as possible, she lifted the light little thing from the seat and through the window.

      Finally the wailing stopped as she held the child in her arms. There were more cuts on his arms and legs, and some on his scalp, too. Jackie checked for slivers of glass, wishing for a table, direct lighting and good quality sterilized tweezers.

      “He okay?” The cop was standing again. Keeping a careful distance from her and the baby, he shook the glass out of his jacket, then slipped it back on.

      Jackie continued her inspection of the infant. “Lots of lacerations, but most of them superficial, I hope. I’m most worried about his eyes.”

      Both were puffy, but the right one was also bleeding. She mopped up the blood with some gauze and saw that his eyelid was lacerated and, even worse, a fragment of glass appeared lodged in his cornea.

      She wrapped the blue blanket around his tiny body, frowning at the way the little guy turned his head from the slightest exposure to sunlight.

      Not a good sign. Poor babe.

      “If his injuries are as extensive as I fear, he needs to be seen by a surgeon right away.” What she could see of the injury was bad enough. But she was more worried about potential damage to the internal ocular structures.

      “Poor kid.”

      She thought the cop was referring to the baby’s injuries, but then she noticed his gaze dwelling on the front half of the crushed vehicle.

      Oh, no. “The driver?”

      He shook his head gravely. “I’m afraid the baby’s mother is dead.”

      CHAPTER THREE

      LIFE WAS SO UNFAIR. Jackie knew this. But why, why did the mother of a helpless infant have to die in such a senseless manner?

      Jackie’s parents had been killed in an accident, too, when she was just a toddler. Her heart went out to the little one in her arms, who wouldn’t have even a vague memory of his mother’s voice to sustain him in his life.

      “His eyes are really getting puffy,” the cop observed, folding back a corner of the blanket to get a look at the infant’s blood-smeared face.

      Was this kid going to end up blind on top of everything else? Not if she could help it. “We’ve got to get him to the ER. But look at this mess!”

      To the far left, a painfully slow procession of emergency vehicles was finally showing up on the scene. But it would be a while before they were able to deliver patients to the hospital.

      “I could transport you pretty fast on my bike.” He pointed. “It’s back about fifty yards.”

      Jackie didn’t hesitate. At this point there were no other reasonable options. “Let’s do it.”

      The cop took the baby, freeing her to scramble back over the rig. On an impulse, she’d grabbed the diaper bag in the car, and now slipped it over her shoulder, then reached out for the baby so the cop could follow. In less than a minute they’d woven their way to his parked bike.

      “My helmet won’t fit you,” he apologized. And of course they had nothing for the baby. “But I’ll get you there safe.”

      Their eyes met, and in those few seconds she reminded herself that though this man was a cop, he was also a stranger. She knew nothing about him except what she’d seen since the accident.

      But what she had seen inspired trust. He was tall, fit and strong, and so far he’d reacted to every situation they’d encountered with calm intelligence, unselfish bravery.

      “Let’s do it.” Without another word, she slid onto the back of his bike, the baby sandwiched between them. Placing one hand on his firm shoulder, clutching the infant with the other, she took a deep breath. “Okay.”

      He glanced back once, to make sure she was securely seated, then took off, hugging the shoulder of the road. They passed the sedan that had been burning briskly earlier. Firefighters had managed to haul a hose across the highway and extinguish the flames. Now they were using crowbars to pry off the passenger door.

      Jackie turned away. She didn’t want an accidental glimpse of whatever charred remains were found

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