The next day when Rusty came home from work, he dragged me away from dinner preparations, led me to the couch and sat down. He held out his arms so I climbed into his lap. Open arms, that was Rusty. If he was happy, he wanted to hug me. If he was sad, he wanted to hold me. If he happened to be feeling playful, he would hug me until his fingers became distracted, then they would tease and tantalize me. Sometimes while we were hugging I ached, waiting for that first touch.
“Gotta get my minutes in,” he said. His voice rumbled with my ear pressed against his chest.
“Uh oh, why? What’s going on?”
“Strict will be calling in the morning. The guys are out there now but Strict knew you couldn’t see enough to track. You’ll have to catch up with them in the morning.”
“Do you have any details?”
“Old man. His daughter thought he’d like to go camping like in the old days so she picked him up from the nursing home and they went out in her RV, a nice easy camping trip, just to get up in the mountains. He wandered away. He’s got Alzheimer’s so it might take some patience on your part. He couldn’t have gotten far. Maybe the guys can find him tonight. They’re walking the area with headlamps on. Maybe he’ll realize people are looking for him and come back.”
“It’s going to be cold out there for an old man. And he might be unsteady. He could fall. If they’re tromping around in the mountains there’s going to be footprints everywhere.”
“Cass, try not to worry about it. I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
“Strict is worried or he wouldn’t start out a search like this.”
“You’re right, he’s plenty worried. He’s grasping at straws right now. Maybe you can help him out in the morning. He recommends wearing blue jeans, a blouse and tennis shoes. If Albert thinks you look like his daughter he’ll be more likely to listen to you. If he calls you Katherine just call him Pop and quietly tell him what he needs to do. He’ll act confused at first, but then he’ll usually do as he’s asked.”
“Sounds like you talked to Strict for a long time.”
“Yeah, long for Strict.”
The wheels in my head started turning. I couldn’t help it. I thought about the old man wandering around in the woods, unsteady on his feet. If the searchers hadn’t destroyed his trail he should be easy to follow.
“Cass, don’t worry, I know you can do it. I just wish it wasn’t necessary.”
I couldn’t sleep that night. Scenarios kept flitting through my mind. It never served any purpose to dwell on a search until I saw exactly what I was dealing with, but sleep refused to come.
First thing in the morning I drove up to base camp. Strict greeted me with a worried hug. Landon grinned, glad to have his little tracking buddy on board.
“How’d the search go on the island?” Strict asked.
“How’d you know about that?” I countered.
“Rusty told me where you were.”
“As well as it could under the circumstances, but I need technical rock climbing classes, Strict. I was only guessing how to get an injured two hundred pound man up from a cliff. It worked, but we were lucky, too. If he’d been more seriously injured then I’d have had to hike for help and it would have added another day to the rescue.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. You should be able to keep your feet on the ground for this one.”
Strict was well prepared for this search and had everything I needed handy. He introduced me to Katherine and she told me a little about her father’s mental state, how well she expected him to be managing out there and what he was capable of physically. She didn’t look anything like me except that she was short and wore blue jeans, a blouse and tennis shoes. I had dressed accordingly, but wasn’t sure how anybody could mistake me for Katherine. When Strict showed me a pair of Albert’s slippers I thought I’d be able to track him easily. There were not just wear spots on them but it looked as if Albert never raised his feet to walk. Strict had also taped off an area with distinct footprints. As I examined them I thought, this should be a cinch.
In a way it was. Finding Albert wasn’t difficult. Landon followed me, pressing for the story of Mark’s rescue, so I told him the whole story and rambled about the trails, the odd animals and my discoveries as I searched for Mark. We found Albert standing in a copse of trees, taking a leak. His clothes fit his thin frame loosely. He was wearing an old, faded flannel shirt and old slacks cinched up tight with a belt that fit him a little better than his pants. He was also wearing an old fishing hat with flies sewn onto it.
“Can’t a man even use the loo without being spied upon?” he asked with a quavering voice. Landon smiled. We let him zip up and come out but when Landon tried to take his arm Albert wriggled loose. “I’m not ready to go back!” he cried. “I just want to find out if the fish are biting. I know the lake was this way. It was always this way before.”
There wasn’t a lake within ten miles of this place, but in his confused state he didn’t know that.
“Pop,” I said uncertainly, “the lake is this way. I passed it when I was looking for you.”
“It’s not that way. Anybody knows the lake is downhill. I may not know much but I know water goes downhill. I just want to see the lake and talk to the fishermen. I remember so many times the people at the lake weren’t catching until I told them the bait to use. I never had trouble catching fish.”
I took his arm with the pretense of leading him downhill, while actually gently steering him back towards the RV.
“The lake was always so pretty this time of year,” he rambled on. “I remember when we used to catch more fish than we could eat. Do you remember going out in the rowboat and catching so many fish we had to start throwing them back?”
“Yeah, Pop,” I agreed, “that was a great trip.”
He followed along for a little while before trying to turn in the wrong direction again. I gently steered him back but he began getting agitated.
“Aren’t you hungry, Pop?” I asked. “You haven’t had breakfast yet. Let’s go back to the camper and I’ll cook you some breakfast. We can go down to the lake later and talk to the fishermen.” I didn’t know what I was doing. I just knew I didn’t want to frighten him. If he was wary of me he wouldn’t cooperate. We had to stay on friendly terms and at the moment that meant living in his world. It saddened me to see him so physically active and yet mentally not quite there.
“It won’t take long. The lake is just down this hill. I know it is. I’ve been there so many times.” Then Albert suddenly changed the subject and asked, “How is Elizabeth doing?” I didn’t know who Elizabeth was, much less how she was doing.
“Fine, Pop, Elizabeth is fine.”
“That’s good. I miss her so. Has it been years?”
“It’s been a long time,” I agreed.
He found a log and plopped himself down. “I’m so tired, so tired and lonely. Where’s Elizabeth?” he asked. “Where’s your mother? She loved camping. She was always the first one up in the morning. When we got up early to go fishing, she would have a pan of scrambled eggs and a pot of coffee ready for us. She was always so happy when we came back with strings of fish because she liked them wrapped in tin foil and cooked on the fire. And…and I haven’t seen her in so long. I hate this getting old stuff. I know how it was, and I know how it is, and nothing matches up anymore.”
I looked to Landon but there wasn’t much he could do. If he interfered, Albert would probably rebel again. This was becoming a miserable situation for me and I didn’t know how much more I could take. I was only twenty-six years old and this experience made old age look very frightening and discouraging. I was feeling just as lost and helpless as Albert. Would there be a day when I walked off into the woods looking for tracks, missing Rusty? I forced my thoughts away from the subject so I could deal with the problem at hand.
“Pop, please, I’ve got scrambled eggs back at the camper. You need to eat something. You’ve been out here all night. I’ve been looking all over the place for you. Please come back with me. The lake won’t feel so far away with a good breakfast in you.”
“Did you fix ‘em like your mother did?” he asked, hopeful.
“She taught me how to do it, you know that.”
Alfred stood and began following me, but then halfway to the camper he suddenly froze and started backing away from me shouting, “You’re not Katherine! Who are you? Why are you trying to trick an old man?” He began crying, frustrated and confused in his uncertain state of mind. Alfred looked around for an escape route, but being an old man and limited in his mobility, he obviously couldn’t run and didn’t stand a chance.
“Pop! Stop! It’s okay. I’m just here to help you. Don’t be afraid. I’m just here to take you to Katherine. Please, Albert! I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not trying to trick you.”
Landon moved around behind Albert to head him off just in case he tried to run. But, how do you stop an old man? A young man, hell, I’d tackle him, but I wouldn’t use force with Albert. I took his arm because he seemed used to being led, and I pointed him towards the campground.
“Come on, let’s go get some of those scrambled eggs.”
“Scrambled eggs sounds good,” he said as though he’d completely forgotten about the lake and was resigned to just accept his present circumstances. I fought tears all the way back to the campground, listening to him rattle on about Katherine’s first birthday and the curtains that Elizabeth had saved up for when they had been living on twenty dollars a month.
“They were so cheerful, and to think she saved for months a penny here and a dime there, to put a little cheer in our house. It was almost a shack. We had lots of scrambled eggs because we had chickens. We could always eat because of the chickens but we had so little. Those were tough days. Our son’s first bed was a dresser drawer. And he grew so fast. I had to make a crib…”
I listened to a life gone by. Now it only existed in fragments of this one old man’s memory, who had inadvertently shared his thoughts with me. I was left wondering what to do with his stories because it seemed wrong to let them die, a life almost forgotten. But that’s what happens, I thought, no matter what kind of a life you lead, eventually it’s forgotten. It felt so empty, so sad.
When we returned to base camp, it was no longer a base camp to me. It was now Katherine’s camper and it meant Albert was safe with his family again. And it probably meant a quick trip back to the nursing home. I kicked myself. No scrambled eggs, no trip to the lake. I’d lied the whole day through and it felt rotten. I went to the Jeep, laid down on the backseat and cried. When I finally sat up Landon was standing there looking at me, but I didn’t care. I pulled my feet up and put my head on my knees and counted to twenty, composed myself, then opened the door and climbed out.
“I got the paperwork. You want me to drive?”
“You’ve got another car you need to take back.”
“Rosco will do it. He wants to go home anyway.”
“I’m not going home. I’m going to the station.”
“You and Rusty have plans?”
“No, we never have plans on search days. I need to vent. I’m going to go cream the punching bag. Maybe I can find someone to box with.”
I don’t know why he came along, but I was pretty sure he wouldn’t box with me. He talked on the way, mostly about Strict and what could be done to get me back on board. I was too emotional to hear most of it. I think I answered him but I’m not sure.
When we arrived at the station I looked into Rusty’s office, but he wasn’t there. After placing a sticky note on his door saying that I’d be in the gym, I then went and took on the punching bag. I let my thoughts flow and it didn’t take long before the emotions overwhelmed me again. I slugged the bag. I punched it and kicked it and fought all the feelings built up inside of me. After Landon had made the rounds talking to the officers he knew, he came in and held the bag for me. The bag was harder to move with Landon on the other side so I put more force into my punches and by the time Rusty walked in I was pretty much worn out. There were several guys in the gym working out but I ran over anyway and grabbed him in a tense hug. He held on, looking to Landon for any clues.
“Babe, what is it? Did you find your man?”
“Sort of… I found him physically, he’s safe and back with his daughter.”
“There you go, that’s what counts, right?”
The emotions welled up again. “I don’t know. I don’t know what counts anymore. Please, don’t let me get that old. I don’t ever want to be that old.”
“Cass…”
I went back to the punching bag and attacked it again. Rusty stood on the other side, holding it steady for me.
“Babe, I do. I want you to grow old. It’s not the same for everybody. You’re going to live to be a hundred and your grandkids are going to be like Patrick sitting around asking you for tall tales. If I know you, you’re going to go skydiving on your seventy-fifth birthday. But no matter what happens, it’s us. It’ll happen to us, together. Babe, stop, please.”
“I can’t.” Bam, bam. “I spent today lying through my teeth to an old man. I did it because he didn’t know any better. I spent the day as his daughter fifty years ago. I promised him scrambled eggs and a fishing trip. That guy will never go fishing again. All he could look forward to was a quick trip back to the nursing home. Runny eggs and old memories. I feel like a heel.”
“Old memories are priceless. Cass, Albert needs those memories, he’s happy in them. You gave him more time to enjoy remembering his past. Some people you track down so they can build more memories while others you track down so they can live in them. No matter what happens, giving someone more time is a precious gift.”
With tears in my eyes I looked at him and said, “That’s your dad talking. You even use his inflections.”
“Yeah,” he admitted, “I suppose it is. I’ve just never had to say it before but, now that it’s out, you’re right. And maybe he got it from his dad. Maybe it goes on and on and on and I’m telling you, no matter where you spend it, time is precious. Babe, don’t lose that thought.”
I felt worn out. I always felt that way after a bout with the punching bag but it wasn’t a physical tiredness, it was emotional weariness. I just felt all wrung out. I left Rusty to his work while Landon and I drove out to the compound to retrieve his car. Usually we met at the compound and took the search and rescue vehicles out to the site. This time I’d left my Jeep at base camp in order to catch up with the team.
We were driving down a street with heavy traffic. It was up against the foothills and frequented by a lot of commuters detouring around the busy downtown area. I had stopped at a red light when suddenly, three cars ahead, there was the sound of screeching brakes followed by the smack and crash of an automobile in the intersection. Since Landon was an EMT and I, theoretically, had first aid training we were obligated to stop and assist. Landon flipped open his cell phone and quickly called in the troops. I signaled and inched my way over to the shoulder. After parking the Jeep we got out to survey the sad scene before us. It didn’t look good. Car parts and broken glass were everywhere. No doubt there were injuries, too. Landon ran to one car while I went to the driver’s window of the other car. I noted the airbag. That was good. I opened the door to speak to the driver who was looking confused and agitated.
“It’s okay,” I reassured him, “help is on the way. Just stay in your car until someone can check you out.” I looked into the back of the car for passengers, but there were none. The man started to release his seatbelt. “No, no,” I told him, “just stay there. We’ve got a police car and a rescue squad on their way. You’ll be okay.”
At the mention of police the man started frantically searching for his seatbelt latch. He pushed the button and reached for the door but I barred his way. He had a wild look in his eyes as he frenetically searched for a way out. Although it was a good sign that he appeared strong enough to be so agitated, something didn’t feel right. My training from academy clicked into place and I went into automatic gear, reciting learned instructions for him to sit down, it was for his own safety… The old police lines spilled from my mouth, but fell flat on the pavement, unheard. As the man tried pushing his way past me I steered him back to his seat. As long as there was no threat of fire, and traffic was easing around the scene it was best that he remained in his car. From the corner of my eye I saw men directing traffic while Landon was having a hard time in the other car. He was coping with a frantic, injured woman and a passenger, both requiring attention. I wondered if I should help Landon since he looked like he could use it.
“What’s your name?” I asked the man
“Alfonso,” he answered.
“Alfonso, you have to stay here. There are cars everywhere. It’s rush hour. Just wait for the rescue squad.”
Off in the distance I heard sirens. Yes!
Suddenly Alfonso rushed me and I stood my ground but he barreled into me, lifting me into the air, and tossing me out of the way. There was a screech of tires followed by a crushing blow and then nothing.
I wasn’t out for long and awoke to the flashing lights of the police cars. Rescue personnel were trying to determine what had happened. They thought I had been the driver of Alfonso’s car, but where was Alfonso? Shoot. This was a mess. I tried to stand but was gently held down.
“Look, I’m not part of this wreck,” I insisted. “I was trying to keep the driver from leaving his car and, when he heard sirens, he freaked out and threw me into the traffic. I’m fine. Let me up.” It occurred to me that I was acting very much like Alfonso had earlier, but with good reason. I needed to find my missing driver. By leaving the scene, he had immediately turned the accident into a hit and run, and that was a punishable offense. “Where’s your little waiver form?” I asked. “I want to refuse treatment. I need to find the driver of this car and I’ll do it if you just let me go.”
“Don’t give it to her,” Landon said evenly.
I glared up at him, if there had ever been a call I wished I’d worn my uniform on then this was it. If they’d seen the uniform the Emergency personnel would have a totally different reaction.
“Landon, tell them I’m not the driver of this car.” Then to the officers I said, “If you’ll run the plates on that Jeep over there you’ll know I’m the driver. I stopped to render aid and the driver of this car didn’t want to receive assistance. He threw me into traffic. I’m fine. Give me the stupid form so I can get on with this.”
They ran the plates on the maroon Intrepid, then on my sand colored Jeep. After attempting to persuade me to go in for an examination, they finally handed over the release form and I signed it.
“Now,” I said, “I’m only an out of uniform reserve deputy, but my job so far has been tracking. You guys have a missing driver. Last I saw him he was dazed and confused, but able to lift and throw a hundred pounds. So he is somewhat able-bodied. I am going to track this guy. If you want to back me up, fine. If you don’t, then just consider me a pedestrian.”
I looked around for a direction to start, found the path of least resistance, and waited for traffic to stop before wading through it. On the side of the road there were tracks from a dozen gawkers. I remembered Alfonso had been dressed as a businessman. Crisp pressed shirt, tie, and slacks, and he probably wore loafers. I searched the side of the road for dress shoe prints. Landon caught up to me with another officer in tow.
“You better be right,” the officer admonished Landon.
“Right about what?” I asked, still tracking.
Landon answered, “That you could find the guy, that you were crazy enough to do it, and that someone better be prepared to subdue him or you’d be back on the ground again.”
“That sounds about right to me,” I answered. I broadened my circle but I didn’t think Alfonso had gone this way any more. I crossed the road and began walking the soft sand just beyond the shoulder. I picked up the distinctive trail of a hurried man wearing dress shoes. He followed the shoulder of the road at a brisk walk for about half a mile and had briefly tried jogging but quickly gave it up. I noted he was favoring his right foot. When an intersection appeared in the distance he began angling towards the side street, and then cut across the desert. The neon lights of a bar and grill beckoned. I followed the tracks up to the graveled parking lot and then circled the building looking for Alfonso’s tracks leading away. I didn’t find any. Alfonso had gotten thirsty and I hoped he hadn’t gotten drunk. As I started to enter the establishment Landon stopped me.
“Cassidy, leave this to the cops.”
“How are you going to recognize him?” I asked, addressing the officer. “I talked to the guy, know what he looks like and could ID him by the soles of his shoes, but could you? I’ll point him out to you and then the show is yours. I’ll go back to my Jeep and you can do whatever you want.”
The officer held a quick radio conversation and then he followed me in. I noticed out of the corner of my eye three, sleek black and whites cruising up the street. I thought they were taking this capture very seriously, considering the man had only left the scene of an accident, but dismissed it and concentrated on the bar and grill. The place was crowded. The bar area was full and most of the tables were taken.
“Find a seat anywhere,” a barmaid called out. The room fell silent as the uniformed officer entered the room. “I’m supposed to meet someone,” I said, walking around the establishment as if looking for a friend. Alfonso wasn’t at the bar. I walked in and out amongst the tables but didn’t see him there either, so I started an outer circle of the place. There was one row of dimly lit booths against a long blank wall. I walked the circle examining the tables in the middle of the floor. Suddenly a man jumped out from one of the booths. He grabbed me from behind, wrapped his arm around my neck and held a used steak knife to my throat.
“Now, that wasn’t a very smart thing to do,” he said calmly.
Landon flashed me a look that was half fear and half a sarcastic, “Oh no, not again.” Funny, that’s exactly what had crossed my mind too.
“I suggest that anybody who doesn’t want to remain a hostage pick up your drink or your dinner and quietly leave the restaurant,” Alfonso said loudly.
The tables nearest us began clearing out, and as those patrons left the others began taking note of the situation. We were soon left with Alfonso, Landon, one officer, myself and a lone bartender crouching behind the bar. He might have thought he was hidden but the mirror made it obvious he was still there.
“Alfonso, what do expect to gain by this?” I asked. “All you’ve got is a steak knife. The police aren’t going to let you go. You’re racking up charges left and right.”
At the mention of the name, Alfonso, the officer stiffened noticeably. Alfonso grinned, enjoying the recognition.
“Hand over your weapons or the girl gets it,” he instructed.
I signaled him not to. He hesitated, then reached for his sidearm.
“No, don’t,” I told him. “Don’t give him any more advantage than he’s got. Let him get out of this on his own.”
The grip tightened.
“You don’t seem to notice who you’re dealing with here, but he does,” Alfonso said, indicating the officer. “He knows I’d slit your throat just to get you out of my way. Right now you’re useful. I think I’ll keep you around. Now give me the gun,” he demanded in a calm voice.
“Do you know what the cops out there are going to unleash on this place?” the officer asked. “First they’ll try and talk you out. Then they’ll start launching things in here.”
“Yeah, ever been pepper sprayed before? I have, and it’s no fun,” I commented, getting everyone’s attention. Of everyone present, I was the least likely to have been pepper sprayed but I always had fun surprising people. “Believe me, you don’t want to be pepper sprayed. Close your eyes. Don’t breathe. It hurts like hell. You don’t want that… or to be stun grenade, or…”
“We get the picture,” Alfonso said, bending my arm behind me and tightening the grip with his knife hand. I wasn’t going to squirm. This guy wanted to see me squirm but I decided not to give him that satisfaction. Thinking the situation through, I concluded that Alfonso didn’t stand much of a chance. There was one weapon inside the bar and an army outside. The officer inside the restaurant had stayed to protect me and so I decided if he was ready to take charge, I would give him that chance. I was just about to provide a distraction when there was a mechanical noise near the door followed by the sound of some mechanical clicks.
“Oh shit,” the officer swore softly.
My cell phone rang, startling everyone in the room.
“Would you stop that infernal thing?” Alfonso snapped.
I froze, even though the ringing was irritating and distracting. Then, as the sound began to dominate the situation, I decided I better do something about it. Alfonso hadn’t said to turn it off. He said to make it stop, so I answered it.
More mechanical clicks.
“Hello?” I said.
“Babe, I’m going to be late getting home. Don’t wait up for me. It’s important we get this guy while we can. I’ve been on this case for a month and we finally got a lucky break.”
Oh man, I hoped it wasn’t this case! “It’s okay, Landon and I ran across an accident on our way back and we’re kind of tied up, too. We’ll catch dinner later, although there’s a bar and grill I wouldn’t recommend for dinner tonight.”
Anxious pause. “Are you in there?”
Alfonso released my arm and snatched the phone from my hand. I could hear Rusty saying, “Cass? Cassidy, this is no time to play games.” Alfonso grinned while the officer started looking even more concerned. He knew where those mechanical sounds were coming from. They were from the bomb squad robot and he had been nervously counting the seconds before the bar turned into a war zone. Alfonso was distracted. The officer was all eyes and ears. Now was the perfect time. I brought my heel down hard on Alfonso’s right foot, hoping he had been favoring it for a good reason. He howled with pain and I grabbed the knife as Alfonso reacted to sudden retaliation. I spun around, twisting Alfonso’s knife hand and the officer stepped in, gun drawn. One, two, three and Alfonso was on the floor being cuffed. I took my phone back and listened for a few seconds.
“Yeah,” I said, a bit breathless, “we’re in here, but I think it’s safe to come in now.”
All the doors opened at the same time and the place was suddenly full of cops with no job to do. Rusty just stood there with his arms folded shaking his head.
“Hey, Michaels!” Someone teased, “How does it feel having your wife bring in your felons for you?”
Tom appeared behind Rusty and asked, “Does she do this to us on purpose?”
“I don’t think so,” he replied.
We spent the next few hours sitting in a booth rehashing the day’s events.
“Today was not one of my better days,” I said, laying my head down on my folded arms. “Landon, Strict is not to hear about this.”
“How are you going to stop him with half the force whining about you spoiling their capture?”
“Oh man, I didn’t think about that. I should have just let them stun grenade the place.”
“You’ve already been knocked out once today. I don’t think twice in one day is good for anyone’s health. And I bet you still won’t go and get checked out.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s just been one of those days.”
“For most people one of those days means they got a speeding ticket or the dog threw up on the carpet.”
“Oh God, I hope the dog didn’t throw up on the carpet! That would be just the thing after a day like this.”
Rusty dropped me off at my Jeep then drove Landon to the compound so he could pick up his car. I knew he’d question Landon and drag the whole story out of him and my partner would fess up because he really was worried about the tumble I’d taken into the traffic. I knew just how worried Landon must have been by the way Rusty busted in the front door when he finally got home. He found me quickly and gathered me close. These things always seemed to affect Rusty more than they affected me. I was used to trouble by now. As long as there was no ongoing danger I put it behind me and kept going. It wasn’t as easy for Rusty. I could see I’d be living in a protective bubble for a few days.
That night when we went to bed Rusty didn’t watch me undress for the fun of it. He was observing with a critical eye. I was bruised and sore, but I’d endured worse so I wasn’t complaining. I still wasn’t exactly sure what had happened and Landon probably didn’t know either. I just remembered flying through the air and a hard bump. I had a tender spot on my head and it would twinge when I brushed my hair, but in general I felt pretty good.
“Cass, please don’t trivialize these things that happen to you. I know you don’t want me to worry, but I need to know.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Well, from a detective’s point of view it could mean the difference between the guy being held or released. It could be ten years difference in his jail time. If the judge thinks the suspect is safe to let loose, he’ll set a bail amount. If Alfonso can come up with that amount, and believe me he can, he’d be free again. If the judge finds out he assaulted an officer, left the scene of an accident and then held someone hostage he won’t let the guy loose. He’ll consider him a danger to society and Alfonso was a danger. We lucked out that he got in a wreck and you just happened to be there.”
I knew all that, of course, but I’d just never actually thought it out.
“But babe, from a husband’s point of view I just need to know for my own peace of mind. If you play down everything that happens, you might be hiding something important. I have to trust that you’ll always tell me the truth, especially with something like a head injury. You might think you’re fine when you’re not.”
“It’s hard for me to make a big deal out of it. I don’t remember it happening and my head doesn’t hurt. I’m more worried about Strict hearing about this. Here I am trying to get back into the team and then something like this happens... At least the search went as well as could be expected. Oh, and I’m glad I had to track Alfonso to that bar. He favored his foot when he walked so I even knew which foot to stomp. I didn’t mean to get involved in the capture. I only went in there to point the guy out. Then I was supposed to leave. It just didn’t work out that way.”
“How do you manage to get into trouble so fast? One moment I think you’re safe at home and the next I find out you’re being held hostage by a violent criminal. And to think what we were planning to do.” He pulled me closer. “If we’d have gone ahead with the plan I’d have felt so guilty. I’d have been a basket case.”
“You can’t think like that. I heard the sounds and knew what they were. In a way I didn’t want you to know where I was. I wanted you to do what was necessary. Luckily you didn’t have to use the robot. It would have wrecked the bar.”
“You were more worried about the stemware than yourself?”
“No, I knew it would be unpleasant, but I also knew it would work.”