Table Of ContentA Cerridwen Press Publication
www.cerridwenpress.com
Anytime, Darlin’
ISBN 9781419917998
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Anytime, Darlin’ Copyright © 2008 Julia Barrett
Edited by Helen Woodall.
Cover art by Philip Fuller.
Electronic book Publication October 2008
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part
by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing Inc., 1056
Home Avenue, Akron, OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is
purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Cerridwen Press is an imprint of Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.®
ANYTIME, DARLIN’
Julia Barrett
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my husband, my own personal Jake McKenna.
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to Detective Steve Potter for teaching me about firearms and
explaining how law enforcement agencies shared information twenty-five years
ago. To Greg McGrath and Jason McGrath, thanks for teaching me how to
sabotage a car and believing that I wouldn’t do it in real life. Don, thanks for
sharing your shotgun collection with me. I’m grateful to my younger daughter
who, when I needed encouragement, read the first couple of chapters and said, “I
really want to know what happens to Devlin and Jake!” Most of all, a big thank-
you to first responders everywhere.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of
the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
American Express: American Express Marketing & Development Corp.
BMW: BMW Bayerische Motoren Werke
Cathay Pacific: Cathay Pacific Airways Limited Company
Coca-Cola: The Coca-Cola Company
Corolla: Toyota Motor Co., Ltd.
Delta: Delta Air Lines, Inc.
Denver Broncos: PDB Sports, Ltd. DBA Denver Broncos Bowlen Sports,
Inc.
Disney: Disney Enterprises, Inc.
Frontier Airlines: Frontier Airlines, Inc.
Goodwill: Goodwill Industries International Inc.
Hy-Vee: Hy-Vee, Inc.
Indy 500: Indianapolis Motor Speedway Corporation
Jeep: DaimlerChrysler Corporation
K-mart: Millyon Marketing Concepts
McDonald’s: McDonald’s Corporation
Mercedes: DaimlerChrysler AG Corporation
Mutt and Jeff: John N. Wheeler, executor of the estate of Harry C. Fisher
Nordstrom: Nordstrom, Inc.
Novocain: H. A. Metz Laboratories, Inc.
Oldsmobile: General Motors Corporation
Omaha World Herald: Omaha World-Herald Company
Perrier: Nestle Waters Société
Rent-A-Wreck.: Bundy American, LLC Ltd
Rolling Stones: Musidor B.V. Corporation
Rotary: Rotary International Corporation
Saltines: National Biscuit Company Corporation
Smith and Wesson: Smith and Wesson Corp.
Tabasco: McIlhenny Company
Toyota: Toyota Motor Corporation
United: United Air Lines, Inc.
Xerox : Xerox Corporation
Chapter One
January 29, 1980
Devlin shivered behind the dumpster. She hugged her legs tighter as the wind
howled down the alley, blowing grit into her eyes and sending trash flying.
Every bone, every muscle, every joint in her body ached. She needed food, she
needed warm clothes and she needed shelter. She toyed with the idea of simply
falling asleep. It would be so much easier to give up but as her mother used to
say, “Everything wants to live.”
Groaning, Devlin pushed herself to her feet and considered her plan. If it
worked, she’d have a coat, a pair of gloves and maybe a warmer hat. Then she
could think about stealing some food. If it didn’t work, she’d end up in a warm
detention facility where they’d feed her. Devlin figured it was a win-win
situation. She’d used a rock to break the single bulb above the back entrance,
and when the cleaning crew pulled up half an hour later Devlin had been hiding
in the shadows. The crew consisted of three men and a woman. The woman
complained that she was afraid to walk back and forth to the van in the dark, so
they’d propped the access door open with a stool. A square of light spilled out of
the door, illuminating the side of the van.
Devlin edged around the vehicle and peered cautiously into the doorway,
searching for any sign of movement. Though she could hear the dim sound of a
floor polisher, she didn’t see anyone near the open door. Hugging the wall, she
slid into the store, treading softly in her ragged tennis shoes, keeping to the
shadows. Suddenly Devlin was enveloped by warmth and she lingered in a dark
corner beneath a heating vent. Closing her eyes for just a moment, Devlin
surrendered to her fatigue. She’d been in the alley for two days, with only
newspapers and cardboard boxes for cover. The warm air felt so good.
The corner where Devlin crouched was screened by stacks of merchandise
waiting to be shelved. Since she was unlikely to be spotted by the cleaning crew,
Devlin decided that a nap wouldn’t hurt. If she got locked in the store, it would
be okay, she could sneak out the back tomorrow when they opened up. And once
the cleaning crew left, she’d have the store to herself. She wondered briefly if
the store had security cameras but then decided it wouldn’t matter because she’d
be gone before anyone looked at the tapes. Studying the merchandise nearby,
Devlin chose an oversized stuffed bear from a storage shelf and sprawled across
it on the linoleum floor. Within minutes, she was asleep.
*
“Angie!”
“Angie, get over here!”
Devlin heard it in her dreams. The voice was harsh.
“AAAAnnnnnggggiiieee!”
Somebody in her dream was yelling in a very unpleasant manner. Devlin
wished she would hurry and wake up but for some reason she couldn’t seem to
move.
A woman’s voice interrupted the screeching. “What?” it demanded, sounding
quite irritated. “What is it, Brad?”
“Look,” said the first voice.
With that word, Devlin felt a painful poke in her ribs. The toe of a boot had
definitely poked her in the ribs. She must be dreaming because she couldn’t get
away from the poking.
“What the heck…” came the woman’s voice. “How the heck did he get in
here?”
“I’m not a he,” Devlin tried to say but nothing came out. Get in where, she
wondered. A hand began to shake her, hard.
“Hey, get up,” demanded the woman’s voice. “Get up kid and get outta here
before I call the cops. C’mon, wake up.”
Devlin heard someone moan. Who was moaning in her dream?
“I can’t wake him up,” the woman’s voice said.
“Jesus! He’s not dead, is he?” asked the other voice, the annoying voice.
“No but I can’t wake him up. Maybe on drugs or something. Go get the
manager Brad, now. Get the manager now.” The woman, whoever she was,
sounded upset.
In the midst of the dream, Devlin felt someone remove her baseball cap. She
tried to muster the energy to tug it back down but her arms were as heavy as lead
and nothing seemed to move. Her long hair spilled around her face. If she’d been
awake, Devlin might have cried but instead she thought she heard herself
mumble something that sounded vaguely like the word “no”. She wasn’t sure
she’d actually said it aloud.
A cool hand touched her forehead and Devlin heard a hiss and a muttered,
“She’s burning up.” After hearing those words and wondering briefly who was
burning up, the cacophony of voices suddenly became louder. Devlin decided it
was simply too much trouble to figure out exactly who was who in her very
peculiar dream so she stopped listening and drifted back the way she had come.
*
Jake McKenna was in the midst of stuffing his clothes into an overnight bag
when the call came in for the ALS unit. Shit. Wouldn’t you know it? Nothing for
four hours, then thirty minutes left in his shift and a call comes in about an
unresponsive kid in a K-mart. Probably another OD. Methamphetamine or
heroin. There was a lot of bad stuff on the street right now. He and Lou
scrambled toward the back of the ambulance while Kyle and Leanne hit the
front.
“You guys got everything?” Kyle called back from the driver’s seat.
“Yeah, she’s all ready,” replied Jake, “just stocked her up.” He turned to
Lou.
“Hand me the IV kit and a thousand-cc bag of normal saline.”
“Need the O2, I’m assuming,” replied Lou, handing Jake a large black bag.
“Hey, you want the cardiac kit? If it’s heroin we might need the cardiac kit.”
“Yeah, grab it just in case,” Jake responded. He felt his heartbeat speed up,
like it always did on these runs. “Anybody know anything about this kid?” he
asked.
Leanne responded, “Teenager. Found down in the back room of a K-mart.
No history. No witnesses. No ID.”
“Male? Female?”
“Don’t know yet. Guess we’ll find out soon enough. Mike’s already on the
scene.”
The South Broadway crew was proud of their response time, under five
minutes in most cases. K-mart was only a couple of miles down the road and
Kyle drove an ambulance like some high-speed concept car on the Indy 500
track. Jake rolled his eyes at Lou. They both wondered how Kyle could be so
damn good and so damn reckless at the same time. But a minute or two could
make a huge difference when it came to saving lives, so nobody ever
complained. They edged around the cop car and pulled up to the back entrance
