Capítulo 99: Chapter 99: Valentine’s Mishap (Part 1)
"So, forget Black Friday and Christmas. It's unbelievable that Valentine's Day is actually the day with the highest crime rate of the year."
Today, Angela was helping out in the detective squad, John was Jack's partner for the first time, and Lucy, unfortunately, was stuck with the front desk duty.
"Uh, how about we throw a party tonight?"
Jack was in a dilemma. He didn't know how to get through the night. It was easy enough to handle with Hannah not being around—a sweet video call would do the trick. But Maureen and Zoe had both hinted at wanting to spend Valentine's Day alone with him.
You're both engaged for crying out loud! You act all lovey-dovey in front of everyone; why do you want to spend the day alone? And with me of all people? Besides, Chris and Justin are staying at my place. Even if I manage to charm both girls, which house am I supposed to go to tonight?
Maybe a Valentine's Day party with everyone is the way to go. I'll just see how things play out.
"Sure, we can have it at my place. It's about to be torn down for renovations anyway, so we can invite more people. No worries about making a mess."
John pulled out his phone and started calling Gareth.
Jack, meanwhile, began counting heads while driving. Angela and Wesley are a couple, John and Gareth another. Lucy and Tim could be considered a pair. Captain Grey will definitely bring his wife. In the eyes of others, Zoe and Maureen are undoubtedly together, which leaves just me. Oh, and Neela.
"I heard Neela might be getting back with her ex-husband."
John's words shattered Jack's last hope.
"I hate Valentine's Day!"
"7-A-26 patrol car, single-vehicle accident at 1530 Crescent Heights, injuries unknown." The call came from the dispatcher.
The two men stopped joking. Jack seriously picked up the radio and replied, "7-A-26, en route."
The accident site wasn't far from their patrol area. The dispatcher usually assigned the closest available unit.
"There it is!" John pointed to a purple BMW near the intersection, its front end completely wrecked, having smashed into a wooden utility pole.
Jack hit the brakes and parked the patrol car right in the middle of the intersection, the flashing lights signaling passing vehicles to drive cautiously around the accident scene.
"Dispatch, we're going to investigate on foot."
John reported over the shoulder mic, "Location: 1530 Crescent Heights. Power lines are down. Notify the utilities department immediately."
Jack grabbed John, who was about to approach the scene, and pointed to the power lines hanging over the car.
"Hold up. The car is electrified. If you touch it, we'll need two ambulances."
Although the downed power lines weren't crackling with sparks like in the movies, they were still dangerous. Neither 220 volts nor 110 volts are safe to touch directly.
Fortunately, the wires were only touching the car. The occupant inside was temporarily safe as long as they stayed put.
Now wasn't the time to complain why LA, the second-largest city in the USA, still used such fragile wooden utility poles. That's just part of the country's unique charm. Inside the car, a middle-aged blonde woman was beginning to regain consciousness and was trying to open the door.
John shouted, "Ma'am, please stay inside the car! It's dangerous outside!"
"She's not coherent. She can't hear you. Prepare for a rescue; I'll handle the wires."
Jack pulled out his ASP baton. Unsure about the thin rubber grip, he wrapped it with his uniform jacket for extra insulation.
Meanwhile, the blonde woman, seemingly dazed from the crash, didn't hear John's warnings. She had already opened the door, and as soon as her foot touched the ground, she convulsed from the electric shock.
"Jack, we have to do something!" John was frantic.
Jack quickly stepped forward and used his makeshift-insulated baton to lift the power lines, signaling John to pull the woman to safety.
"Dispatch, we need an ambulance at my location. Adult female, mid-30s, unconscious, not breathing, suffered an electric shock."
As Jack called for medical assistance, John laid the woman flat and began CPR.
Remembering Taylor's unfortunate experience, Jack didn't join in the CPR after John completed two cycles. Instead, he discreetly touched the woman's arm to check her response.
"Come on, you can do this." With John's efforts, the woman eventually started breathing on her own, though she was still groggy.
"Hey, welcome back. You're safe now," John said with relief.
"What happened?"
"Stay still. You were in a car accident and got shocked. The ambulance is on the way," John gently reassured her.
"Did you save me? Thank you!" The woman, teary-eyed, hugged John, almost ready to kiss him in gratitude.
"Uh, yes, it was nothing," John awkwardly patted her back, unsure how to extricate himself without seeming rude.
Jack, amused by the scene, almost whistled and walked away, glad he wasn't the only one facing a Valentine's Day ordeal.
After the graceful blonde was safely loaded into the ambulance and the scene was managed, the two men got back in their patrol car.
"A box of genuine Cuban Partagas, and I promise to keep this little incident from Gareth. She'll never know."
Jack smirked, shifting into extortion mode.
"Dream on. I'm down to my last box. I can let you have one tonight, but that's it."
John's expression was pained as he fiddled with the two ugly bobbleheads on the dashboard—miniature caricatures of Hannah and Jack.
These were Christmas gifts from Carla, the girl who had escaped from a serial kidnapper's lair.
"Look, over there. Isn't that Carla?" Jack pointed across the street, driving leisurely.
Carla, the little girl, was there with some girl scouts, selling cookies. They wore matching light pink uniforms and dark blue skirts, complete with light pink berets and red scarves. They looked absolutely adorable.
"Oh, they're so cute. I've always wanted a sweet daughter like that."
John grinned, his face wrinkling with a broad smile.
"If you and Gareth keep trying, you might get lucky. Want to go say hi and buy some cookies? That way, you won't have to share your lunch with me."
Jack parked and waved at Carla, who jumped up excitedly upon seeing him.
As they prepared to cross the street, a man with dreadlocks suddenly dashed to the girl scouts' stand, grabbing several boxes of cookies. Carla kicked at his legs, but he wouldn't let go.
"Police! Stop right there!"
Jack and John took off running. What kind of nutcase tries to rob girl scouts right in front of cops?
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