Witches of Three: Charlene by Temple Hogan Read Free Book Online

against the pain the movement caused. “Hurts like hell.”
    Charlie glanced around the street. No one was close by. She blinked, and the bleeding let up again. She blinked again, and Geronimo relaxed.
    “That’s better,” he said and closed his eyes.
    “Hang on, partner.”
    She mouthed the words like a litany and was grateful when she heard the sound of a siren approaching. Almost immediately, a police cruiser slid to a halt nearby and two officers jumped out, their hands on their holstered guns, ready to draw them if necessary. Ralph Latimer and Ray Somnes surveyed the area and, finding no imminent danger, gazed at the fallen man.
    “Hey, Geronimo,” Ray said, squatting down beside them. “You hit bad?”
    “Bad enough,” Charlie said, “but he’s going to make it.”
    “Did you see who did it?” he asked.
    “He was a short, burly Hispanic with a red do-rag around his head wearing white sneakers, jeans, a blue and white striped T-shirt and a thin, black jacket. He had the gun in the jacket pocket. After he fired, he ran north on Lambert. He wasn’t alone.”
    “You call it in, Ralph,” Ray said. “I’m going after him.”
    By that time, an ambulance had arrived, and the paramedics set about stabilizing Geronimo’s condition before transporting him to the hospital. Once the ambulance had pulled away, Charlie headed toward her cruiser, intent on joining the search for the shooter.
    “Well, Spencer, you proved once again that you’re no damn good at anything,” Officer Latimer bellowed at her. “You just got your partner shot. I hope you’re happy.”
    “Go to Hell,” she shouted at him, opening her car door and leaping in.
    She felt sick at heart enough without Ralph’s sniping at her. For long hours, she cruised the streets, trying to find the man who’d shot her partner. Every little while she’d call into the station to get a report on Geronimo’s status. Finally, they told her he was going to pull through. The bullet hadn’t hit anything too vital, and there was little damage, which was amazing given where the bullet had entered. Charlie sighed with relief and, at directions from the dispatcher, turned her cruiser toward the station.
    “The doctors said it was a miracle,” Nick told them when they all gathered in the squad room to hear the latest reports.
    He scanned the room, meeting every man’s eye and stopping when he got to Charlie. She felt his gaze, hard and direct and knew he’d worried about her. She parted her lips to say something, but Ralph Latimer got there first.
    “What I want to know is why he was out there facing those guys by himself. Where was his partner?” He shot a venomous gaze at Charlie. Everyone waited.
    “He told me to stay in the car. He said he was just going to talk to them. He wanted to find out about the new batch of heroin on the street.”
    “Did he learn anything?” Ray asked quietly, his gray eyes troubled.
    “That was what surprised him,” Charlie said. “He said he just asked them some questions and didn’t get anything worthwhile. He couldn’t understand why they shot him.”
    “When we catch the bastard, we’ll find out why,” one of the men said.
    “That’s all for now,” Nick said. “Spencer, I want to see you in my office, and then I want you to write up a report.”
    “Now you have to answer for your sloppy police work,” Ralph sneered. “You can’t sit in your squad car and let your partner get shot.”
    “Spencer,” Nick called impatiently.
    She turned her back on Latimer and marched into Nick’s office. He closed the door behind them.
    “I’m sorry for what ha—” she began, before a hand on her shoulder spun her around and his lips closed over hers in a long, forceful kiss. He was breathing hard when he released her mouth and held her tight against her.
    “I thought it was you,” he whispered harshly. “My God, I thought I’d lost you, just when I’d found you.” He held her close, and she leaned into his