He slid an arm around her waist and led her to the bench against the wall. He squatted down beside her, setting her notebook and pen on the bench.
Frosty put his chin on her knee. She stroked the dog behind the ears with one hand and placed her other hand protectively over her notebook.
“What happened?” Carter asked.
Her lips trembled. “Someone pushed me.”
Shock reverberated through him. The platform was now a crime scene. He radioed in this new development.
“That’s right. I saw the whole thing.” An older gentleman stepped forward. “Guy wore a gray T-shirt, baseball hat and sunglasses. He had brown hair, medium height.”
Carter rose and searched the pressing crowd. “Can you point him out?”
“As soon as he pushed her, the guy ran up the stairs,” the older man told him. “I heard him say, ‘You’re getting too close.’”
“I heard him say that, too.” A young woman wearing a walkathon T-shirt stepped forward. “I saw him put his hand on her back and push.”
Carter’s gaze snapped back to Rachelle. “Why would someone want to hurt you?”
She tucked in her chin. “You think I was targeted?” Something flashed in her eyes, some thought that made her frown, but then she shook her head. “No. It was crowded. He probably got claustrophobic. It had to have been a random act.”
Carter wasn’t sure what to think. He didn’t have time to question her further as other police officers and paramedics flooded the platform. He greeted the officers, explained the situation and let them interview the witnesses. Carter would write up his statement when he returned to his home station in Queens.
The medical personnel fussed over Rachelle. She waved them away. “I’m fine. Nothing is broken. Nothing’s twisted. I’ll have some bruises, but you can’t help with that.”
Carter touched her shoulder. He’d already noted the scrapes on her hands and the smudges on her knees. She’d dropped four feet onto hard concrete. “Let them do their jobs.”
She huffed out a sigh and tucked her notebook and pen into her purse. “I’ve taken worse falls. My parents have a grand oak that rises a hundred feet in the air. I’ve fallen out of it more times than I can count. This was barely a tumble.”
Her words were saying one thing, but her body was shaking beneath his hand. “Humor me.”
Her lips pressed together, and she nodded. The EMTs checked her vitals, assessed her limbs for injury. They declared her okay but told her to rest and put ice on her knees.
When the paramedics retreated, she rose from the bench, straightened her dirt-smudged skirt and squared her shoulders. Looking him in the eye, she said, “What I would like to do is interview those witnesses, then get on with our interview.”
She had gumption, he’d give her that. He admired that she wasn’t rushing out of the subway system scared as a rabbit. Most people would be anxious to escape the area after experiencing something as traumatic as being pushed into the path of a subway train.
Who had pushed her? And why?
Random? Or a targeted attempt on her life?
“We’re heading back to our unit’s headquarters in Queens,” Carter said to Rachelle as he reined her in from questioning the witnesses.
He was determined to discover the truth about why someone would want to harm her, which meant he needed to keep her close and grill her about the incident. “Come along with us.”
“Wonderful. I live not far from there. Do you think I could get a tour of the station?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Carter looked down at Frosty, who stared at him with trusting eyes. “All right, partner, let’s head out.”
The dog’s ears perked up, his tail thumped once and then he stood. The crowd had thankfully thinned. Yet, Carter couldn’t shake the stress of seeing Rachelle tumbling off the platform onto the tracks.
“Let’s go aboveground where we can hail a taxi.”
“You don’t have a vehicle?”
“I do, but parking in the city is nearly impossible for any length of time.”
“Would you normally travel back to Queens via a cab?” she asked, her intelligent eyes studying him.
“No. Part of our job with the transit bureau is to ride the subway,” he told her. “But we can take a cab today.”
She shook her head. “Not on my account. I’d rather you do as you normally would. It would be better for my story.”
Grudgingly, he respected her dedication. He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
They walked to the platform for the downtown train and stood behind the yellow painted barrier.
He doubted Rachelle realized he’d slowed his pace to keep her within reach so he could grab her and protect her at the first sign of danger. Coming from a family with a long line of police officers, protecting others was built into his DNA.
His cell phone rang. The caller ID announced his brother Noah. Again. Two calls in one shift? Carter quelled the spike in his pulse. Noah had offered to watch Carter’s daughter, Ellie, on his day off because their parents were unavailable.
Keeping an alert eye on those around them, he pressed the button. “Hey, just about to leave the city. Your reporter friend has asked for a tour of the station.” Carter glanced at Rachelle, watching her scribble in her flowered notebook.
Noah chuckled. “Not my friend, pal. But I’m glad you’re not complaining.”
“That will happen later. It’s been exciting so far.” Traumatic would be a better descriptor but Carter would save the story for when he saw Noah.
“Well, you can start complaining now. I’ve been called into headquarters. My day off is over, and my babysitting time is up.”
Hope flared. “News on Jordy’s killer?”
Rachelle’s gaze snapped to his. Carter saw the curious gleam in her eyes. Reporter, remember! He couldn’t let his guard down around her. He’d learned the hard way the media only wanted the sensational and twisted the truth to meet their own narrative.
Noah sighed. “No. Nothing to do with the case.”
Disappointment curdled the hope.
“You’ll need to come directly home,” Noah continued. “Mom and Pop aren’t back from Fire Island yet.”
“Is Zach around?” Even though his youngest brother had married and moved out, he came around the family home often. His brothers took turns babysitting Carter’s six-year-old when their mom and dad were not available.
“On patrol this evening. And Katie’s not feeling well.”
Katie, Jordan’s widow, was five months pregnant. Carter’s heart ached knowing his oldest sibling would never get to hold his child, watch his child take his or her first steps, or hear the sweet voice of his own kid calling him Daddy.
Carter cleared his throat before he could speak. “Why don’t you bring the munchkin to the station house. I’ll grab her there.”
“Will do.” Noah hung up.
Rachelle raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.” He was saved from having to explain further by the arrival of the train. “Here