With a Vengeance by Annette Dashofy

“Fine. Have him come along too.” Pete didn’t really expect to get any direct answers from the kid, with or without Uncle Andy present. But one or the other might just let something slip. Like where Snake was between seven fifteen and eight thirty last night.
    “I’ll tell him, but I ain’t making any promises.”
    Pete tugged on his ball cap and thanked the woman.
    As he made his way down the rickety steps, his cell phone rang. Caller ID showed the station’s number.
    “Chief,” Nancy said when he answered, “I was about to leave for the day when Wanda Knox called. Curtis is awake.”
    Pete stopped, one hand on the door of his SUV. “That’s great.” He might finally catch a break in this case.
    “Do you want me to ask Kevin or Nate to drive into Pittsburgh to talk to him?”
    “No.” Pete checked the time. It was already after five. “I’ll go. Is Kevin there?”
    “Yeah. He rolled in a half hour ago.”
    Pete slid behind the wheel and slammed the door. “Patch him through.”

      
    The television in the crew lounge blared some sporting event that no one was watching. Zoe thumbed through a tattered magazine from a pile somebody had brought in from home. Two years out of date, the smiling celebrity couple on the cover had long since divorced. Not that it mattered. The words could have been written in Greek for all she comprehended.
    Earl and the other guys on the crew stared at the TV, their faces blank. Zoe wondered if they would even be able to tell her the score if she asked. She doubted it.
    Tossing the magazine aside, Zoe hoisted herself out of the too-soft, too-worn armchair and headed for the office.
    Crew Chief Tony DeLuca sat at the desk doing paperwork. A police scanner on the shelf above him squawked with activity from an assortment of emergency response departments around the county.
    Zoe crossed to the closed door leading to the ambulance bays. On a warm summer evening, both the outside bay doors and the office door would have stood open to catch a breeze. But the sky had grown dark and ominous.
    Through the window, Zoe noticed the wind kicking up, fluttering the awning on the flower shop across the street and sending dust devils scurrying along the sidewalks.
    “The weather suits the mood around here, doesn’t it?” Tony said.
    Zoe spun to see the crew chief watching her. “I guess it does.”
    He tapped the report in front of him with his pen. “I read the same line four times and still can’t tell you what it says.”
    “A lot of that going on.”
    The Monongahela County EMS radio on the desk crackled to life. “Phillipsburg, this is Control. Medical response requested to two-five-five Franklin Run Road. Seventy-five-year-old male complaining of chest pains.”
    Tony snatched the mic. “Ten-four, Control.” He jotted the address down on a slip of paper and aimed a thumb at the doorway to the crew lounge with his free hand. “Zoe, tell Mike and Tracy they’re up.”
    A moment later, Medic One roared out of the garage. Zoe and Tony watched from the window.
    “I really hate this,” he said. “After last night, I wonder what I’m sending them into.”
    Zoe hugged herself against a sudden chill. “I was thinking the same thing.”
    Behind them, the phone rang. At the same time, the scanner on the shelf above the desk emitted a series of tones on the county fire channel. Tony blew out a noisy breath. “Sheesh. Is it going to be that kind of night?”
    The crew chief reached up to silence the scanner and answer the phone. Zoe watched a woman step out of the flower shop carrying a bundle wrapped in green tissue and duck her head against the breeze as she hurried to her car. Just another day. For some people.
    “Thank God,” Tony exclaimed into the receiver. “That’s great news. Thanks for letting us know.”
    Zoe turned away from the window as Tony hung up. “What’s great news?”
    The crew chief lowered his head, his eyes closed for a moment. When he lifted his head