Denouement (24 page)

“Forehead? Face, nose?” I asked.

“Broken nose, fractured right orbital socket, and a lot of stitches. Standard stuff from a car accident. I can recommend a cosmetic surgeon.”

I knew the wounds to my face weren’t from crashing the Cadillac. They were from Ray’s fists and elbows.

“I’m going to send in a nurse to get all your vitals, and then we’ll give you some time with your family. Try to keep it brief. You need your rest.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re pretty lucky. You lost a lot of blood.”

I nodded. “How long do I have to be here? How long am I going to be laid up?”

“You’ll be discharged in a couple days. We can get into the recovery time frames and things to keep an eye on when I stop back later.”

The doctor left the room.

After I received a quick visit from the nurse, Callie accompanied my family in. Everyone told me how scared they were and showed how relieved they were that, with time, I’d recover. I sat in bed surrounded by worried faces staring back at me until the doctor shooed everyone out. As everyone exited my room, I got Callie’s attention.

“Babe, is Hank here?” I asked.

“He’s in the waiting area with Karen.”

“Can you send him in? I need a couple minutes alone with him.”

She nodded and walked from the room. A minute or two later, Hank entered and closed the door at his back. He walked to my bedside.

“This saving-your-ass stuff is getting old.” Hank smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“Rough,” I said. What happened with Ray?”

“Ray is dead.”

“How?”

“I put a bullet through his head. What do you remember?”

“Him kicking the shit out of me, me opening my eyes and staring down the barrel of his gun.”

“You didn’t see me? That’s right about when I got there.”

I shook my head.

“Bostok told me where you were and what was going on. He was talking with the Hernando County sheriff’s office and told them he was sending me out. Well, I’m a few miles down the street from the motel, and I see your car crashed into some trees. I pull through the grass median, and I see Azarov on your chest, pummeling you. I jump out of the car, pull my weapon, and run over. He has a gun pointed at your face. I yell, ‘Drop the weapon!’ He didn’t even look in my direction. I knew he was going to fire, so I put him down. Single shot, through the head, done.”

“Dead,” I said.

“Stiff in the morgue,” Hank said.

I let out a long breath.

“Which is close to where you were.”

“That’s what I hear,” I said.

“Do you remember the helicopter ride?” Hank asked.

“Helicopter ride?” I asked.

“Yeah, they airlifted you here. After I shot Azarov and kicked him off of you, I called 9-1-1 and started looking you over. You weren’t looking so hot. I tied my necktie around your leg and tried to keep some of the blood coming out from your neck area inside you. You owe me a new suit, by the way. The paramedics arrived within about ten minutes. They called in the air transport, which brought you here.”

“Where is here? What hospital am I at?”

“The one by your condo,” Hank said. “That will be the first and last time I’m in a helicopter too, by the way. I got to watch the paramedics try to keep you from bleeding out while I tried to keep my breakfast down. Good times.”

“How is everyone else that was there? Faust and his crew, the local sheriffs, the woman from the motel.”

“Fine, as far as I know. Faust showed up on foot about five minutes after I got there. I guess he ran from where his car was disabled or something. We didn’t talk much. A bunch of other Hernando County Sheriffs were on the scene within a minute or two after he got there.”

“Is Faust here?” I asked.

“I don’t know if he is right now. He’s been popping in and out to get updates. Do you want me to get a hold of him?”

“Nah, I’m sure I’ll catch up with him sooner or later.”

“How’s the pain?” Hank asked.

“Manageable. I’m sure they have me on a buffet of things right now, though.”

“Well, I’m glad you are alive and kicking.” Hank smacked my leg that wasn’t injured. “I’ll let you get some rest, but I’ll be around. Do you want me to send Callie back in?”

“Yeah,” I said.

Hank headed for the door.

“Thanks, Hank,” I said.

Hank looked back and held up two fingers. “That’s two you owe me,” he said.

“I’ll try to return the favor.”

Hank waved away the comment and let out a long breath. “Not sure if you’ll get the chance, buddy. There’s some wheels turning. It’s a conversation for another time. Let me grab Callie.”

I nodded.

Hank flashed me a smile and walked out.

I’d been off work for nine weeks.

The first few weeks were rough. My left arm had to stay immobilized so my clavicle could heal, which would have been fine if it wasn’t for the injury to my right leg. I couldn’t use a standard pair of crutches, and with one arm, I couldn’t move myself in a wheelchair—unless I only wished to go in circles.

Each passing week got a little better as soon as I was somewhat able to walk normally again. The doctor gave me a time frame of three months before I could use my left arm without restriction. I had a month or so left. I’d been keeping it in a sling and doing my best to allow the healing process to complete. However, I did use it probably a bit more than I should.

Callie and I spent days discussing our future and my future employment. We came to an agreement. I’d been in to the station a handful of times though I wouldn’t be cleared to return full time for another week. The first time I’d stopped in was the Friday after the injuries, to take the oral boards for my captain’s test. Bostok had spent hours tutoring me while I was at the hospital. I continued studying and crafting my answers while I was immobile at home the remainder of the week. I couldn’t have been more prepared, so I felt it was still the right time to take the test. I had Callie take me to the station and roll me into the interview in my wheelchair. I had thought it went well, but I still had another week or two of waiting to see if the job would be mine.

I took a seat on the stool, set down the box I held, and stared at the bare white wall across from me. It turned from white to cream with each rotation of the paint roller Callie held. I wiped sweat from my forehead.

“What do you think? Do you like the color?” Callie asked.

“Boy’s rooms should be blue, shouldn’t they?” I asked.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see. You’re so confident it’s going to be a boy.”

“It is,” I said.

“Are you going to be disappointed if it’s not?” she asked. Callie ran the roller up the wall again.

“Not a chance. It just means we’ll have to keep trying.”

She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled. “What if we have three girls in a row?”

I shrugged. “Then we’ll be due for a boy,” I said.

Callie laughed. “Where do you think we should put the crib?”

“It’s up to you,” I said.

“I was thinking we could put the crib there and maybe get a chair or something to put over there.” Callie nodded and pointed at the locations.

I smiled. “Whatever you want, dear.”

“Finally. You understand the right way to answer my questions.”

I laughed, stood, and walked to her. I kissed her on the side of the face. “I’m going to go back to unloading.”

“I feel like I should be helping.”

“Negative. Pregnant women don’t unload moving trucks,” I said.

“But one-armed, limpy men do? You should have your sling on and not be lifting boxes.”

“I’m just taking the easy stuff. I put Hank and Jones on lifting everything heavy.”

“That’s so nice of you.” Callie laughed and shook her head. “Hey, where’s Sandy?” she asked.

“She was helping my dad take some things to the shed the last I saw her. Do you need her?”

“Um, yeah. When you see her, send her in. I want to get her opinion on some paint colors.”

“Sounds good,” I said.

I walked from the bedroom, down the wood-floored hall, and into the living room. Boxes were stacked, furniture was set in various spots, rugs were rolled and leaning against the wall. Hank and Jones looked over at me.

Hank pointed at the couch they must have just set down. “Couch good there?” Hank asked.

“Perfect. I’m sure we’ll rearrange everything ten times before it finds its final spot. How are we looking out there?” I asked.

“Moving truck number one is empty. Truck number two is about halfway done,” Hank said.

“I’m going to go grab those lamps,” Jones said. He walked from the room.

Hank wiped sweat from his forehead and took a seat on the edge of the couch.

“You didn’t need to come, Hank,” I said. “We could have handled it and I know you have your hands full.”

“Nah, it’s the least I could do,” he said.

I nodded. Hank had filled me in while I was still in the hospital that there had been talks of his wife, Karen, getting transferred to Arlington. They’d just got confirmation a few weeks prior that it was in fact happening. Hank had been dealing with realtors, arranging movers, and searching for employment in that area. It sounded like he was aiming for a position at the bureau there, but I hadn’t heard anything further on it in a week or so—either way, it was going to be weird not having him around.

“Well, I appreciate you taking the time to head over, Hank. If you and Karen need a hand with anything, let Callie and I know.”

He shrugged. “I think we’re finally seeing light at the end of the tunnel. Karen got her starting date, I have an interview lined up, and we found a place that we like.”

“All good news,” I said. “You got an interview, huh? Bureau?”

“Yeah. We’ll see how it goes. Lots of hoops to jump through it sounds like,” he said.

I nodded. “I’ll make sure I talk you up if they call.”

“Keep it believable,” he said.

I smiled. “I’ll keep it in the realm of reality.”

“Thanks,” he said.

Jones walked back through the front door and set a pair of standing lamps down.

“Um, I’ll be back to give you guys a hand in a second,” I said. “I need to find Sandy. Callie wants her.”

“She was with your dad walking down toward the lake a minute ago,” Jones said.

“Okay. I’m going to go get her. Why don’t you guys relax for a bit. There’s plenty of beer in the fridge.”

Hank stood and stretched his back. “Yeah, I guess I could take five.”

“Thanks again for the help, guys,” I said.

“No problem. There isn’t too much stuff left. You’re going to need to buy some serious furniture to fill this place,” Hank said.

I raised my eyebrows. “Trust me, I’ve already been informed. Okay, grab a beer. I’ll be back.”

I headed outside, walked down the front stairs, and turned left at the corner of the house. Across the football-field-sized chunk of grass, the lake calmly reflected the sun, which was setting at my back. I made my way down and saw my father and Sandy sitting on the bench at the end of the dock. I walked out, stood behind them, and placed my hands on their shoulders.

“One hell of a nice view,” my father said.

“This whole place is gorgeous, Carl,” Sandy said.

“Yeah, I think we did all right,” I said. “Cal was looking for you, Sandy. I guess she wants your opinion on some paint colors.”

“Sure, honey,” Sandy said. She stood and headed up the dock.

I took a seat next to my father.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Dream house,” he said.

I nodded.

The reflection of the sun and sky off the water turned the surface of the lake shades of pink and purple.

“I could probably get used to a place like this,” he said.

I watched a fishing boat cross on the other side of the lake. “You know, you guys could always move down here. You could spend the weekends over here. Holidays. Whenever,” I said.

“I don’t know about moving. I think I’d miss my woods and land too much.”

“Buy some woods and land down here,” I said.

“Your sister would lose it if Sandy and I left from up there.”

I smiled. “Yeah, she would.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure we all will be here a handful of times a year.”

“Good,” I said.

“So, have your thoughts on what you want to do changed at all?”

“No.” I let out a long breath. “My mind is made up. Captain’s desk or bust. No more day to day in the field.”

“Hard decision?” he asked.

“No. Not after what happened and seeing the way Callie looked at me when I was lying in that hospital bed.”

“So what are your options if you don’t get the captain’s slot?”

“I don’t know. We’ll see when the time comes. I’m going to stay in law enforcement doing something. There’s a couple things up for consideration.” I stretched my arms out across the back of the bench. “Right now, I’m just going to try to enjoy all of this and not worry too much.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” my father said.

I let out a breath. “Okay. I’m going to head back up and finish getting the truck unloaded.”

“I’ll join you.”

My father followed me up the dock, back toward the house.

I glanced to my right and saw a single dark-haired man in a suit, standing on the platform overlooking the lake—Faust.

Faust held up his hand in a wave.

“I’ll meet you up at the house, Dad,” I said.

He nodded and continued walking. I made a right from the dock and stepped up the stairs of the platform. Faust leaned against the railing.

“Come to help move furniture?” I asked.

He smiled. “I can probably lend a hand for a bit if you need it.”

“Nah, I think we’re fine.” I stuck my finger out at him and waved it up and down. “Plus, suit and tie isn’t exactly moving-furniture attire. What’s up?”

“One hell of a house,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’d ask how you knew where it was, or even how you knew that I moved, but what’s the point?”

Faust smirked.

“So did you just come out to shoot the shit or what?” I asked.

“I wanted to see if you had an answer to my proposal,” Faust said. “I never heard anything since we talked a few weeks ago.”