“Beep, boop, beep,” came out of the pager on Chelsea’s belt and the speaker above her head, startling her out of a light nap.
She blinked, oriented herself and listened.
“Biggin Hill PD to Squad 79 and Fire Unit 37. You’re responding to a motor vehicle down an incline with entrapment on Dog Kennel Road.”
She froze for a moment remembering. Morgan had driven off that cliff. And died.
Chelsea’s hands shook. Adrenaline? How embarrassing, after doing this for more than a decade.
She scurried from behind the desk and ran a hand over her face, doubting her readiness for this call. “Damn.”
Chelsea wrenched her dark blue jumpsuit out of her car and leapt into it. Her heart pounded as adrenaline rushed through her veins.
Stone Feeney’s truck screeched to a stop. She nodded at him as relief swept over her. He must have been on Main Street to get here so quickly. He joined the squad five years, when he moved to Biggin Hill.