Chapter 25
When they arrived at the hospital, Cat went straight to Miriam’s room in the intensive care unit. The glass walls, rubber tubes, beeping machines and weird smells made Cat cringe. She hated hospitals, and she hated seeing people she cared about in them. She leaned close to Miriam’s ear as she whispered to her dear friend that she was finally there. She brushed silver curls off Miriam’s bruised forehead and adjusted her gown which had slipped off a bony shoulder. Cat pulled the covers higher and tucked them around her sleeping friend.
The visible bruises and cuts on Miriam infuriated Cat. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. Someone would pay for doing this, she silently swore. A tear slid down her cheek and dropped on Miriam’s pillow as she bent over and planted a gentle kiss on the grandmotherly figure’s cheek. She wanted to wrap her arms around Miriam, but afraid of hurting her, she just stood there seething. Gently she touched Miriam’s arm on the single piece of fragile skin that wasn’t purple, blue or black. Sullivan put his hand on Cat’s shoulder when she stood back up. He gave it a squeeze and Cat turned towards him. Uncontrollable tears gushed out of her eyes as she fell against him. She sobbed as he held her. He promised they would catch whoever had done this to Miriam.
Cat had quit crying, but was still dabbing at her eyes with a tissue when Susan got there. One look at Miriam and Susan was crying, too. A nurse came in to check on Miriam and asked them to step outside while they gave her a breathing treatment. The three walked down the wide, sanitized hallway and entered the ICU waiting room. Just then, Sullivan’s phone rang. He held a finger up to the girls and walked away to talk into the phone. When he came back he said he needed to go, but wanted to stay informed of their movements. Cat said she was going back to Susan’s to get her things and then would probably be staying at her parent’s house until she made other arrangements. Susan would be traveling again the next day, flying to the east coast travel article she was writing.
Cat watched as Sullivan’s tall, lean figure disappeared down the hallway in his starched Wrangler jeans and cowboy boots. He was beautiful. When she hugged him she had felt his duty weapon under his left armpit and had seen the shoulder holster when he was at her apartment. It was a combination of leather, elastic and Velcro and it crisscrossed over his muscled back and shoulders. Under one arm the holstered black pistol hung and under the other were two additional magazines that held extra bullets. She wondered what made a person want to carry a gun for a living.
She had always thought it odd that someone would be willing to risk his or her life for the safety and protection of others. She figured the job of a law enforcement officer was often unappreciated by the people they served. Maybe that was it, she thought. Maybe the draw for Sullivan had been the service part of it. She admired him for his commitment.
Cat called her parents and told them that she would be coming to their place after picking up her things from Susan’s. But once she was behind the wheel of her trusty car, she made her way north to Guthrie instead. She couldn’t explain why, but she needed to see her apartment. She wanted to see the carnage, the waste. She wanted to keep this feeling alive inside her that wanted revenge. It made her feel strong and confident somehow. The familiar rumbling of the car tires across the red brick cobbled roads told her she was getting close to home. When she pulled into one of the two narrow parking spaces available in the alley behind her building, she looked around cautiously before getting out. She climbed the metal stairs as quickly as she could with heels on and inserted the key into the outside door.
Entering the long hallway, she listened for any sounds as she tiptoed down the wooden floor to her apartment. There were no signs indicating the police had been to her apartment or to the one across the hall. Her hands shook as she unlocked her front door and stepped quickly inside, shutting and locking the door behind her. Cat looked around and couldn’t believe her eyes. The place was spotless. Aside from the obvious missing items, it looked pretty good.
She walked silently from room to room investigating. She wondered why her bicycle had been spared in the melee, but considered it a blessing. Quickly she changed her clothes, gathered her biking gear and packed it and more clothes into a big suitcase with wheels, and pulled it out to her car. She went back up one last time for her bike.
Before locking the apartment, she took another look around. This place would never be home again if Hannah and Miriam didn’t survive. A deep sadness filled her. The hollowness she felt as she looked around the room seeped into her soul. Tears blurred her vision as she locked up the apartment. Once outside, she wiped the tears off her face and secured the bike on the carrier attached to the roof of her car and took off.
Phillip and Linda could not believe their eyes. The girl who had left home seventy-two hours before had been transformed into a beautiful graceful woman.
“Wow! Look at you, sweetheart!” Phillip exclaimed as he embraced Cat.
He pulled her inside after she rung the doorbell. “Why are you ringing the bell? Why didn’t you just come in?” he asked as he studied her in the entryway.
“Who is it?” Linda asked as she rounded the corner.
She was drying off her hands with a dish towel and nearly threw it in the air when she laid eyes on Cat. She could hardly believe her eyes. “Catherine!” She rushed over to where the two of them stood and threw her arms around Cat, kissing her on the neck.
“Honey, you look so beautiful. I love your hair. Come in, come in! Tell us all about your trip.”
They settled on wrought iron bar stools that sat beneath the center island in the kitchen. Cat rested her elbows on the granite countertop and caressed the surface with her hands. “I love this.” She said pointing at the turquoise, cream, pink and rust colors that ran like rivers through the granite surface.
“What did you tell me this was called?” she asked as she studied it like art.
“It’s Italian marble. It’s called ‘Blue Louise.’ Isn’t it beautiful?” Linda asked.
She hugged Cat again and asked if she had eaten lunch. Cat said yes, that they had eaten in Denver before boarding the plane. She admitted that she was still a little hungry and accepted her mom’s offer to heat up some chicken enchilada casserole. It was one of her favorite dishes, and no one, including Cat, could make it like her mom could.
While Cat ate, she told her parents about everything that had happened on her trip. Between bites she answered questions and frequently accepted their compliments with grace. Both parents had mentioned over the past few years how they would like to see her hair return to its natural color. Every time they had mentioned it, she had run right out and bleached it or put a color streak through it, just to irritate them. She couldn’t explain why, she just did. It made her sad all of a sudden to recall her juvenile antics.
“I’m sorry for being so hard to get along with in the past. I don’t deserve you two. Thank you for my vacation. It was wonderful.”
Who is this person? Phillip asked himself. Who was this gorgeous young woman sitting in his house, admitting her mistakes? He was blown away by her candor and willingness to accept responsibility for her actions.
“We love you, or else we would have killed you long ago,” Phillip laughed he hugged her tightly and planted a loud kiss against her auburn head. “Besides, we knew we had raised you right and that you were just trying to find your own way.”
He laid an arm around her shoulder and squeezed her again. “I’ve already told your mom that you are going to work for me at the radio station. When do you think you want to start?”
“As soon as possible, is tomorrow okay?”
Phillip nodded his head in agreement. After cleaning up her lunch plate and glass, she brought her stuff in from the car.
As she was walking her bike up the sidewalk, a black pickup drove slowly down the street. Cat turned and stared at its tinted windows as it crept slowly by. She didn’t recognize the truck and couldn’t see the driver, but she figured she should tell Sullivan about it.
Early the next morning, she showered, dressed and met her parents in the kitchen. She sipped on some coffee but refused breakfast. “No, thank you. I’m not really hungry. I guess I am just excited about getting to the station,” she told them. She was rewarded with smiles from them both.
“I’ll give you two an hour before you are choking each other,” Linda said with a laugh. She was thinking it would be a miracle if they could actually make it an hour before trying to kill each other. “I’ll check and see who is still living at noon. One of you is taking me to lunch” she stated as a matter of fact.
The hours flew by as Cat recorded promos, greetings, station identifiers and made a few telephone sales. She called Sullivan to let him know what her new work number was and invited him by the station for a visit. She told him about the ominous looking truck and promised she would be extra vigilant of her surroundings. When Cat and her parents went to lunch around 12:30, she was feeling great.
“Well, since it appears that you are both alive, I guess I’ll buy lunch in celebration,” Linda joked.
They ate salads and enjoyed fresh fruit from a local deli around the corner. They were about to head back to the radio station when Phillip spotted a truck he thought looked like the one Cat described to them the day before.
“Is that the truck?” He pointed out the window to a black Chevy truck parked across the street. The windows were darkly tinted, preventing anyone from seeing if it was occupied. “I don’t know. Why don’t we go check it out? We could get the tag number and call it in to Sullivan!” Cat suggested.
With her parents in tow, Cat emerged from the deli first and walked in a straight line across the street towards the truck. Without warning, the driver accelerated quickly and lunged the truck towards Cat. She dove out of the way, just in time, as the truck sped past her and down the street. Her parents raced to where she lay on the pavement and helped her up.
“Cat Honey, are you okay?” her mom yelled. “Where are you hurt, did he hit you?” She asked as Phillip screamed at the retreating driver to stop and come back.
“I guess that was a stupid idea,” Cat said as she dusted off her slacks. She had managed to scuff one knee and ruin a good blouse judging from the looks of one of the elbows.
“Call Sullivan,” Phillip demanded as he turned and ran. “Tell him what happened. I’m going to get my car and see if I can find that guy.”
He was off and running before either woman could stop him. Cat quickly dialed Sullivan’s number, gave him the information and begged him to hurry. She was afraid of what would happen if her dad did find the truck and the driver.
Several people had come out of the deli and from a service station across the street. They said they had witnessed the incident. One witness thought he had gotten a good look at the tag. He repeated it to Cat who repeated it to Sullivan who called it in. The dispatcher gave him the bad news a minute later, just as he was pulling up at the scene.
“That tag comes back not-on-file,” she informed him. He scratched his head and listened to the witness tell his version of the story again, remaining quiet so as not to disturb the witness’s recollection of the events. The witness repeated the same tag number and said that he was pretty sure that’s what he saw. A uniformed officer had arrived and was busy getting witness statements, so Sullivan took Cat and Linda back to the radio station. Linda called Phillip. He hadn’t been able to spot the truck, so he was reluctantly returning to the radio station. When he got there he asked Sullivan to step outside with him.
“Thank you for coming so quickly. I need to ask you a legal question,” Phillip said. He looked around nervously to ensure no one would overhear him. “I’m going to start carrying a gun. I want to make sure that I am legal to do so.”
Sullivan gave him a quick version of the Concealed Carry Law. As Phillip understood it, he was going to have to fill out a bunch of paperwork, pass a background check, attend some classes, qualify on the weapon and pay a fee, before he could carry a gun to protect his family. He could feel his blood pressure rising at a dangerously fast rate. His head was pounding. The men walked back into the station where Linda met him at the door and ushered him into his office after seeing how red his face was. She asked Cat to bring him some water and she loosened his tie. She took off his suit jacket and hung it on a hanger on the coat rack behind the door.
“Now you just sit here and calm down. Drink this,” she instructed, holding the cup of cool water to his lips. Sullivan told them what they had talked about and apologized for Phillip getting so upset.
“He will be fine in a few minutes,” Cat reassured him. “Come on.”
She held out her hand and led Sullivan out of the office and closed the door.
“It’s not your fault. He has high blood pressure. He’ll probably just break the law and carry his gun anyway. I don’t even know why he bothered to ask you.”
Continuing to hold his hand, she took him on a tour of her father’s station. Sullivan’s heart beat wildly with her delicate hand in his. He tried to focus his attention on what she was saying. He decided he liked the homey feel of the small station. The crisp white walls were in stark contrast to the dingy, worn-down office building where Cat had worked the week before. It made him feel better knowing she was here where the carpet wasn’t frayed and dirty. He noticed the control booth didn’t look like she could catch a dangerous disease just from being inside it.
This is really nice. It’s a whole lot cleaner than the last station.”
She smiled her thanks. “I agree, I can actually wear nice clothes and not worry about them getting destroyed at work. Well, that is until today.”
She held her elbow up for him to inspect. She had gotten a nice patch of road rash on her elbow and knee. Her clothes had taken the worst of it, she assured him.
“No more bravado, got it?” he instructed. He tapped her nose as if she were a dog that had peed on the carpet.
“Yeah, whatever! It didn’t seem like bravado to me. I mean, it was broad daylight, in public and I had my parents with me.”
His eyes were deadly serious when he looked at her and said, “Just be careful, okay? That’s all I ask.”
She agreed with a nod and a handshake. Her hand lingered in his for a moment longer. He said he had to get back to work and would check on her later. Leaning down, he pecked her cheek with a friendly kiss and then was gone.
The next several days went by without any further sightings of the mysterious truck. Cat worked at the station, hung out with her parents, rode her bicycle and sat with Miriam at the hospital, reading to her occasionally. Miriam wasn’t getting better. The doctors had prepared them for the worst. Only time would tell.
Susan had been in and out of town repeatedly in the last few weeks. She stopped by when she had time. Hannah had been released from the vet’s, but was taking a long time to heal. It made them all sad to see the little dog once full of life, moving like an old worn out dog.