Enchanter completed, p.1
Needing a Hero (Baytown Heroes Book 4), page 1
NEEDING A HERO
BAYTOWN HEROES
MARYANN JORDAN
Needing a Hero (Baytown Heroes) Copyright 2023
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the author’s written permission, except where permitted by law.
If you read this book and did not purchase it, you are reading an illegal pirated copy. If you are concerned about working for no pay, please respect the author’s work! Ensure you are only reading a copy that the author has officially released.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover: Graphics by Stacy
ISBN ebook: 978-1-956588-25-5
ISBN print: 978-1-956588-26-2
Created with Vellum
Author’s Note
Please remember that this is a work of fiction. I have lived in numerous states as well as overseas, but for the last thirty years have called Virginia my home. I often choose to use fictional city names with some geographical accuracies.
These fictionally named cities allow me to use my creativity and not feel constricted by attempting to accurately portray the areas.
It is my hope that my readers will allow me this creative license and understand my fictional world.
I also do quite a bit of research on my books and try to write on subjects with accuracy. There will always be points where creative license will be used in order to create scenes or plots.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Also by Maryann Jordan
About the Author
1
“Have you got everything you need, sweetheart?”
Ivy smiled as she drove, knowing her mother would fuss and worry even though Ivy was almost thirty years old and had lived independently since college. “Yes, Mom, you and Dad left everything in perfect order. I’ve filled up the refrigerator and pantry. I couldn’t believe that Mrs. Tomlinson was still working there! I swear, she looked just like she did when I was little. I accused her of finding an ever-timeless potion. Plus, I moved in only my needed possessions, and the movers took everything else to the storage facility outside Baytown.”
“I just hate that we won’t be there.”
“It’s fine, Mom. Honestly, Grandma needs you, and that’s where you and Dad should be right now. I’m just grateful that I don’t have to look for an apartment. Moving back into your house until I find something more permanent is perfect.”
“Well, I’d tell you that you can stay with us forever.” Her mom laughed. “But I know you’ll be looking for your own place soon. I’m just so glad you’re taking the job in Baytown. You can’t imagine how excited your father and I are to have you close again.”
“Me too. Listen, you and Dad take care of each other and Grandma. I’m getting ready to get on the Bay bridge-tunnel, so I’ll lose my connection in the tunnel. I’ll talk to you in a couple of days.”
“Love you, Ivy.”
“Love you, too. Give my love to Grandma.”
Disconnecting the call, Ivy moved through the toll gate on the Virginia Beach side of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel. There was a little traffic, and as she drove over the water, her grin spread across her face. Home. Home on the Eastern Shore.
Her phone rang again. Pressing connect, she heard Sybil’s voice. “Are you almost there?”
Laughing, she replied, “Just got on the CBBT.”
“Okay, then I’ll get off. But I can’t wait for us to live close to each other again. I hate that I’m not there to welcome you. Of all the times for us to have planned a winter trip to Disney World!” Sybil had married her college boyfriend, moved back to the Eastern Shore, and now had a five-year-old son and a four-year-old daughter. “I told Ricky and Jessica to find something for their Auntie Ivy from Mickey Mouse.”
“I look forward to seeing you all. I’ll call once you get home next week. See you soon.”
Disconnecting again, she still had her smile firmly in place. It was time… time to return to her roots. She’d left the Shore, gone to college, earned her degree in systems engineering, and worked in Richmond for an engineering firm focused on construction. When the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel advertised for a systems engineer, she decided to apply. And when the job offer came through, she packed up her belongings from her small apartment and moved back to Baytown.
CBBT had two administrative locations—one on the Virginia Beach side and one on the Eastern Shore side. With her office at the entrance on the Shore side, she was now living only about fifteen minutes away from her new office.
She’d started her new job a few weeks ago, commuting the distance. But today, she’d enjoyed a trip over the Bay for a goodbye luncheon with her former coworkers in Richmond. Now heading home, she approached the first tunnel, glad for only a few vehicles on the road. Driving through a tunnel that went underwater never bothered her, but she hated to get behind someone traveling slowly. She looked to the side at the new construction. A second tunnel was being built to handle the summer traffic.
Her new job had her right in the middle of the new work, and she loved it. With the complexities of systems needed to maintain the current bridge and tunnels and the new construction, she had a hand in addressing multiple factors throughout the design.
Coming out of the tunnel and onto the last section of the bridge, she looked over the water and watched as gulls flew alongside the bridge. “Oh, Mr. Thomas, I can still hear you.” Thinking of her high school history teacher, she continued in a singsong voice, “Over seventeen miles of bridges and two tunnels. For three hundred and fifty years after the first settlers set up the colony of Virginia, the crossing was completed by boats, ships, and ferries. And what a wonder of modern technology it is.”
Keeping to the speed limit, she was anxious to get home while enjoying the view. A vehicle only had room to pull off in case of an emergency in a few places on the bridge, but she’d never seen anyone there other than an occasional CBBT police officer. But looking ahead, a blue minivan was parked, and a man stood next to the edge of the bridge with a child in his arms.
The unexpected and unusual scene triggered her to slow as she approached. Gasping, she watched as the man paced close to the edge, dangling the child as he yelled.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” she chanted as she slammed on the brakes, causing her car to squeal to a stop as she jerked behind his.
Hitting the emergency call button on her phone, she barely gave the dispatcher a chance to answer before she cried, “I’m on the CBBT, near the east end approaching Fisherman’s Island. There’s a man at the pull-off with a child, and he’s screaming, and it looks like he’s threatening to drop the child over the edge!”
She threw open her door and raced out of the vehicle, ignoring the 911 dispatcher telling her to stay in her car.
With her heart pounding a rhythm that threatened to beat out of her chest, she lifted her hands in front of her. When the man whirled around, he was younger than she thought, barely more than a teenager. The child was crying. Its little face scrunched up with fat tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Please, please, don’t do this. Whatever’s happening, don’t do this. Hand me the baby, and it’ll be all right.”
“Back up!” he yelled, only making the baby cry more.
He wore an oversized black jacket, but it was unzipped, and the sides flapped in the breeze. It was enough to remind her that she’d left her coat in the car, and the chilly breeze blowing across the water made her shiver.
“No. I can’t do that. Listen, you don’t want to hurt the baby. Let me help. This is not what you want to do. That poor baby doesn’t deserve this.” The child was in a onesie with a sweater buttoned but no hat. Its face quivered, and her fingers itched to pluck the child from his arms.
The sound of approaching vehicles and sirens grew louder. Oh, thank God, someone is coming! She tried to steady her voice without taking her eyes off the baby. “Let me hold your baby. He’s crying, and your arms are probably getting tired. Just let me hold the baby, please.”
Though she was terrified to move closer, her fingers itched to reach the child in his arms. She watched the wild expression on the young man’s face, seeing indecision as well as desperation. She inched forward but stopped
“Larry,” he whispered, his eyes wide. He stared at her as though surprised to find himself on a bridge with a baby.
“Hi, Larry,” she whispered in return. “I’m Ivy.” She shuffled a step closer. “What’s the baby’s name?”
He mumbled as he looked down, his gaze registering surprise as though he’d just realized what was in his arms. His expression morphed into fear and then anger. “How the hell should I know?” he barked.
She blinked, jerking slightly. “Uh…”
Sweat dripped down his face, and he jerked his gaze behind her at the sound of boot steps approaching. Afraid to turn away, she lifted her hands slightly to the side so no one would think she was threatening the child.
The police approached, announcing their presence, and for the first time since she’d arrived, she let out a sigh of relief. They would take over, and she could step back to let the professionals handle Larry and save the baby. As she moved a foot away, Larry shouted, “No. You stay! Everyone else, get back! Get back, or I swear I’ll jump!”
Her heart jolted once again, but staring at the desperation in Larry’s eyes, she stayed in place. “Larry, please. Please let me take the baby.” Her arms ached as her entire body quaked with shivers. She gazed to the side, seeing the police encircling them but not coming too close. “You don’t want to hurt your baby.”
“It’s not mine!” he screamed, spittle flying from his mouth as his eyes darted behind her.
Oh shit! Oh shit! “Come on, Larry, then let me help. Whatever this is, let me help.”
The child wailed louder, and her attention snapped to the bridge’s edge. She moved closer to him once again.
2
Andy Bergstrom raced onto the pier where the Virginia Marine Police had their boats docked. The sky was clear, but with the holidays just a few weeks away, the cold had settled in, and he could see his breath in front of his face. But with the emergency callout, his thoughts were firmly on the situation they were heading into.
He jumped onto the boat he and his fellow officers had recently taken out on patrol. They’d just come back for lunch when the call came in. Callan Ward and Joseph Newman joined him, and on the other vessel were Officers Jose Martinez and Jared Dobson and Chief Ryan Coates. They pulled out of the Baytown Harbor, heading south at top speed toward the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel.
The CBBT had its own police officers, but it wasn’t unusual for the VMP and Coast Guard to assist in emergencies. With Joseph behind the wheel, he listened as their dispatcher relayed information.
“Ten forty-four,” Bobbie Jean called out. “CBBT and state police are at the scene. Close to Fisherman’s Island.”
“Jumper?”
He looked toward Callan and shook his head. “Not sure, but thank God they’re not far from the shore. If they go over, they’ve got a better chance of survival.”
Even as the words left his mouth, he knew survival was not guaranteed. While the main bridge was only about forty feet above the water, the distance would seriously hurt someone who went over the side. Being closer to the shore decreased the distance between the bridge and the water, making a fall or jump much less devastating, but that didn’t include landing near one of the concrete pilings or the currents taking the body away.
Bobbie Jean radioed, “It’s a child. A man is threatening a child.”
Andy’s head whipped around to look at Callan, his eyes wide. “Fuck!”
Callan and his wife, Sophie, had given birth a couple of months ago to a little boy, and Callan had just commented yesterday that he was “living the dream.”
He felt the vessel’s speed increase as Joseph pushed the boat to get them to the scene as fast as possible.
Bobbie Jean continued, “There is a female bystander who is with him. CBBT says she’s at the edge of the bridge, too.”
He stepped out of the wheelhouse and was hit with a blast of cold, briny air. His trimmed beard kept his face warm, but blinking in the wind, he was grateful for the heavy coat. Sucking the air in deeply, he filled his lungs before letting it out slowly. He focused his attention on the bridge as it neared, then glanced behind to see the other VMP vessel nearby. With their chief, Ryan, on board, he would take charge, and as the senior officer, Callan would also be directing.
Andy looked at Callan, whose binoculars focused on the scene. Flashing emergency lights filled the area on the bridge, which had been cleared of other vehicles.
“Vessel four, go under to the south side. Vessel two will follow,” Ryan radioed.
Once under the bridge, Andy twisted his head upward to see the events unfolding. Both Ryan’s vessel and theirs were also tied into the radio system used by the state police and CBBT police.
“Status?” Ryan radioed.
The CBBT communications officer replied, “Man. Twenty-one. He stole a van at a gas station in Virginia Beach. Got on CBBT and discovered a baby in the back. Panicked. Knows this ups his charges. He stopped and was pacing the side when a female bystander saw him and called it in. She’s trying to get him to let the child go. When officers arrived and asked her to step back, the man threatened to toss the baby over the edge if she left.”
“Shit,” Andy cursed under his breath.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Callan’s curse joined in.
Andy grimaced, knowing Callan was thinking of his own son.
“Whoever the woman is, she’s gotten his trust,” Joseph surmised.
Andy looked over as Joseph managed to keep their boat close, battling the current and waves that knocked against the bridge pylons. “Or he just knows that she gives him one more hostage.”
The police radio on the bridge picked up the woman’s voice. “Please, please, give the baby to me. It’s so cold, Larry. The baby needs to be warm. If you need someone, then just keep me. You don’t need the baby now.”
Andy’s gaze shot back to the woman, who was visible as she stood several feet from the man who walked back toward the edge with the small child in his arms. She was much smaller than the man, both in height and weight, barely coming to the man’s shoulder. The scene sent chills throughout his body that had nothing to do with the weather. Her arms were stretched out and had been since they arrived. She wasn’t wearing a coat or jacket. She must have jumped out of her car to rush to the scene without putting her coat on. With binoculars, he could see her arms and hands shook and knew both fear and cold were the cause.
Her auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but tendrils had come loose and whipped about her face from the increasing wind. The original call came in over twenty-five minutes ago, so she’d been out on the bridge for that long and must be exhausted as well as cold.
“She called him Larry, so maybe he does trust her,” he radioed softly. “If she can get her hands on the child, then the police can get the man.”
“Be prepared,” Ryan radioed his warning. “He could jump… either with the baby or after giving the baby up.”
“Fuck,” Andy cursed under his breath again. He and Callan moved in sync as they readied the flotation devices while Joseph kept the vessel close. The VMP boats had moved back slightly so if someone went into the water, they could get to them quickly while not being in danger of the person hitting the boat. Andy looked at the shore, seeing the distance to Fisherman’s Island. Here, the bridge was only about twenty feet above the water. But no way the child can survive that drop.
