In a small pub in Brookdale, one town over from Hidden Cove, Anabelle sat across from Phillip Grayson and next to Gideon.
Grayson wore a dark blue suit, obviously expensive. His posture was erect. “I’ve been at Computek for three weeks now. I’m still learning the business. But I get reports from my workers on day-to-day numbers. Those appear accurate. I gained access to all the numbers today and I’m checking through them now.”
Anabelle leaned over the table. “What’s your best guess when you’ll know anything?”
“I’ll need a month more to be sure. Maybe more.”
“That long?” Gideon asked.
“These things take time. You have other work, I assume,” he added in a superior voice.
“Yeah, sure.”
He stood, looking almost royal in bearing. Something about this guy just didn’t click with Gideon.
When he walked out, Gideon and Anabelle stayed behind. “What do you think?”
Anabelle frowned. “He’s the head financial guy. He knows all this better than we do.”
“And we’re new to all white-collar crime cases.”
“What about your gut feeling, Gid? He reports in weekly, right?”
“By phone or email. Truthfully, something about him doesn’t seem right.”
“One of your hunches?”
“I don’t know.”
The waitress approached them and asked if they wanted refills of their coke. Anabelle noticed she focused on Gideon, but she answered. “I’d like a beer.”
“Me, too.”
She sighed. “There’s no other option but to go along with him. Keep these…reservations to ourselves.” She leaned back in the cushy chair. The lights in the bar had dimmed, but she could see him clearly. “How’ve you been?”
He looked great in a dark green sweater and chinos. “I feel like I’m Oz sometimes.”
“Why?”
A shake of his head. “I found out Carina is…sexually active. Some, anyway.”
“She’s sixteen, right?”
“Uh-huh.” He took a bead on her with that blue gaze. “Anabelle, were you experimenting then? And I’ll come clean, too. Lisa and I were. Big time.”
“I was. I had a steady boyfriend.”
“Carina’s only, and I quote, been a couple since last semester. I hope it’s not too serious.”
“Why?”
“I want her to go to college.” He raised his brows. “Did you?”
“Yeah. Four years at a state school.”
She’d told him a bit about her early life. “How’d you manage it with no help from your family?”
“Scholarships. Working my ass off. You?”
“Lisa and I got engaged while I went for a two-year criminal justice degree at a community college. Mama and my dad paid for it. Lisa got pregnant as soon as I finished, and more school was out of the question. I didn’t much care then.”
“Do you regret not having gone four years?”
He waited a long time before he answered. “Yeah, I do.”
“It’s not too late.”
“Shit.” He rolled his eyes. “I can hardly keep my head above water now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My kids are worth it.”
“Of course, they are.”
“So, how’s Mindy and the baby?” The pregnant young girl who was in the fight.
“I’m going to see her tomorrow morning before work.”
“What’s her living situation?”
“I’ll see that when I visit.”
“Nice of you to check in with her.”
“Hmm.”
The hushed atmosphere turned intimate when a piano player started with soft music. “Will you go home now?”
“Yep.” He checked his watch. “I should get going. I left Carina and Cory supervising Cassie. Cory told me he didn’t need a babysitter because he’s fourteen. So, I gotta phrase it that way. Usually Carina watches Cassie when I have short meetings. What will you do?”
“Go home. Take a bath maybe.”
His eyes burned. “Wish you hadn’t put that image in my head, woman.”
She bit her lip.
He stood and squeezed her shoulder. His fingers were strong, but could be as gentle as a summer breeze, she knew. “Take care.”
When he left, Anabelle swallowed hard. Boy, was this hard. She wanted to bring him home and lose herself in his arms.
But that was never to be, again.
She paid the bill then left the bar without a spring in her step or hope in her heart.
* * *
Ronan looked around at the guests he’d invited tonight for a light supper and drinks—his cousins, his siblings and Aunt Carmella and her husband. His own mother wasn’t invited. He didn’t want to face her yet. They sat in a newly remodeled living room of the lake house. He’d made a lot of changes to the downstairs to bring it up to date.
“Thanks for coming,” he said to the group
“We’re so glad to be with you in a social situation.” Hayley’s voice hoarse with emotion. She raised her glass of sparkling water. “Welcome back.”
Finn, next to her on the large L-shaped sofa, slid his arm around Hayley. “I second that. We missed you, buddy.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You got your fiancé to preoccupy you.”
Millie, looking lovely in a dark pink outfit, her long hair down, sat in one of the new chairs and grinned. “He’s got his hands full.”
“I do, love.”
Ronan felt a spurt of jealousy of his cousin’s happily-ever-after. Ronan had no one.
Seth, his youngest cousin, asked, “You had
this catered?”
“I did.”
In the kitchen, which he’d opened up to flow into the living area, the workers had laid out salads, cold meat and piping hot soup with breads. The scent of clam chowder and minestrone drifted over them.
“Well, I’m hungry.” Julianne stood, cute with her rounded stomach encased in a denim jump suit.
Ronan wondered if he’d ever have kids.
Damn, being with his family called up all kinds of buried longings.
They dispersed. Ronan stayed in the living room and watched the lake through the windows. Now, snow-covered and iced over, it bulged beneath with its power. He still loved this lake and would be happy when it lapped and rushed and invited them in this spring.
Derek, Alessia’s new husband, came back in with a bowl of soup. “You all right, Ronan?”
“Yeah. Lots of memories here.”
“Your cousins and siblings are here for you. And me.” Derek sat on the couch and set his soup on one of the serving tables that dotted the area. “Sit down and keep me company.”
Ronan took a chair across from Derek and sipped his whiskey. “I’m glad it worked out for you and Ali.”
“You had me worried there for a while.”
“I know I was hard on you. Even after twenty years, I still feel protective of her.”
“I’m glad.”
They talked some, until Paul joined them with soup, too, and sat down.
Ronan said, “Welcome to the family.”
“Thanks, new cousin. Hey, you’re both that now.”
The men chuckled.
“Is the human tracking task force you were on still searching for victims in New York?” Paul asked Derek.
“Yep. But not at City College. We’re pretty much done there since my cover was blown.”
“Did they get anyone else recovered from the college?” Ronan asked.
“Two more. Now, my boss and the team are moving into other locations.”
“Like your new job?”
“I do. I always hated the adage Those who can, do, those who can’t teach. I teach others how and it’s rewarding.”
“And safe.” Alessia joined them with a plate heaping with salads and meat. She kissed Ronan’s cheek, then took a seat.
“How much longer for school, Ali?” he asked.
“Really? There’s something you don’t know?”
He laughed.
“We started again mid-January. I’ll be done at the end of summer.”
One by one, the whole group filed in. Carmella and Judd sat close together at a table across the way, smiling at each other. For god’s sake, Ronan had to stop envying the people he loved so much.
“I got you a plate.” Hayley handed him food. “Eat.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Their time together was warm and friendly until Gideon’s phone buzzed. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.” He went into the kitchen.
Carmella gripped Judd’s arm. “Oh, dear.” Mama was worried about her cub.
He returned soon, wearing his wool coat, with a scarf to chase away the cold. “I gotta go. Right now. Task force emergency.” He fished in his pocket for his keys. “Mama, can you and Judd spend the night? I may not get back and I don’t want them alone. And try to reassure them that I’m going to be all right.”
“I will, dear. Stay safe.”
“Sorry everybody. I gotta book.” And he was out the door.
Ronan watched him go. He knew what Gideon was going through, as he’d had detailed reports on the task force, thanks to his contacts in the HCPD.
His aunt was right to be worried.
* * *
As he drove to the city from the lake, the snow had stopped but slush spit up at the window. He punched in Anabelle’s phone number in case she was heading there. No answer. He tried the others. Must be they were there. He put his bubble on the roof and sped up. A few times he skidded, but damn, he needed to be there.
When he got to the scene, he saw right away what was happening. The area was well-lit by streetlamps. This time, two groups of girls were squaring off. He’d donned his Kevlar vest before he started over, and leaping out, he grabbed his gun from the glove compartment and stuck it in the back of his pants. It was bitchin’ cold, as he threaded his way through a crowd that uniformed officers were trying to disperse. Puffs of air came from his mouth and everyone else’s.
Anabelle stood on the sidelines, holding a megaphone, trying to diffuse the situation. “Put your weapons down.”
“No way, bitch.”
“Go screw yourself.”
One comment from each side. He recognized the Savage Sisters, but the girls in red and black jackets were new.
Brolin and Radford stood behind Anabelle, their hands on their weapons, and TJ was next to her, poised to go in. Gideon recalled then the gang expert from New York, who’d come out to train them. Never rush in between two gangs ready to clash. They’ll kill you first then go on to fight each other. Wait for SWAT. They’re equipped for this kind of maneuver.
“No Good Girls on our streets, cunts,” one of the Savage Sisters yelled out. We’re gonna e-rase you.”
Anabelle fired into the ground, the pop of the gun startling. “I’m serious. Put your weapons down.”
Instead, the first girl lurched forward. The rest rushed in behind her. They connected.
TJ started forward, and Anabelle held her back. “No! Wait for SWAT.”
The teams arrived a few seconds later, and eight men and women hurled themselves out of their armored jeeps, fully protected with helmets, suits and shields. Anabelle shouted, “We gotta disarm them all.”
A SWAT guy rolled a can of tear gas in the midst of the deadly fight. Clouds of gas filled the air. A lot of coughing replaced the shouts and the clatter of weapons. SWAT rushed in. The task force had to step back to avoid the acid cloud.
Shouts.
Gunshots.
Screaming.
In minutes the scene went silent, except for the low moans of suffering.
Two sets of EMT’s waited for the smoke to clear, then rushed forward. TJ went in with them.
“What’s she doing?” Radford asked.
“She has advanced EMT certification. She’s helping.”
“They’re all down,” the SWAT guy called over the radio. We need the uniforms and the task force now.”
With only a light haze around them, Anabelle, Gideon, Radford and Brolin circulated the area and picked up guns and knives. Some of the gang members laid motionless on the ground. Others tried to get up and swore while the uniformed officers handcuffed them first, yanked them up and lead them away.
“Help over here,” a firefighter yelled. “I need somebody fast.”
Anabelle and Gideon and Radford hurried to him. Grady O’Connor straddled a victim and pressed a bloody gauze pad on her chest. Gideon asked, “What can we do?”
“Somebody get a blanket to keep her warm.” Radford raced away.
“Anabelle get more pads from his bag and hand them to me.”
She retrieved them, but instead of grabbing them from her, Grady said, “Gideon, take my spot and put these over the wound.” They exchanged places. “Hold the compress and press hard. I already checked and there’s nothing in the wound. But she’s cold and clammy.”
Which meant she was in shock.
Straddling the girl, Gideon pressed down then glanced at her face, which was obscured by a scarf. One he recognized. “Oh, God, no, no. Anabelle.”
Anabelle dropped to her knees and pulled back the scarf. “Oh…no…no….”
Radford, who’d tucked a blanket around her, let out an animal-like yelp.
The victim was TJ Masters.
She’d been knifed.
* * *
After they helped SWAT secure the scene and posted officers on the street corner, Anabelle and her team headed for the hospital. Worry ate away at her as her hands froze on the wheel. TJ had been deathly pale and blood stained the ground. She knew the loss of 40% was fatal. Pushing away the thought, she drove into the emergency parking lot just as the others did. The four climbed out of their cars and made their way inside.
They found an empty section of the waiting room. Radford dropped down in a chair and put his head in his hands. Brolin kicked a wall. Gideon paced. She said, “Come sit, Buck, Gid.”
They dragged the chairs in a circle. Peripherally, she saw other gurneys come in through Emergency doors. How many of those young girls had gotten badly wounded or killed?
“What the hell happened?” Brolin asked, his voice raw.
Anabelle had to pull herself together for them. She’d fall apart later. “We followed protocol. We were called when the confrontation was in progress. Even SWAT didn’t get there to prevent the clash.”
“We didn’t even try to intervene.”
“If we did, we’d all be in surgery, like TJ. We were outnumbered. We talked about this in training with the New York guy. He explained it all to us.”
No response.
“Yeah, guys, my brother said firefighters don’t go into hopeless situations.” Gideon was trying to be logical. “They don’t sacrifice their lives when they know they’ll be killed before they can help.”
Silence. For a while, they were lost in their own thoughts.
“Hey, guys.” Grady had come up to them. He’d ridden in the ambulance with the EMT’s for TJ’s trip to the hospital. His complexion was gray and his eyes haunted, making Anabelle grow cold.
“Pull up a chair.” Anabelle kept her voice calm. “How was she in the ambulance?”
“Touch and go. She coded once, but we got her back. She, um, lost a lot of blood.”
“Think she’ll make it?” Buck asked.
“I shouldn’t predict—”
“But you know.” Anabelle. “Tell us.”
Grady scanned them all. “I’m sorry to say this, but in my opinion, no, I don’t think she’ll live through her injuries.”
A pall fell over them. They were immobilized.
Then, later…
“Sergeant Sanders?” A man had put a hand on her shoulder.
She stood and turned.
“I’m Linc Roberts. I’m afraid I have bad news. I’m sorry, TJ didn’t make it.”
* * *
The Task Force floor was crowded with police officers. They’d come for the team. Everybody quieted and Chief Jaspers approached them stone-faced. “This is hard. I know. You should all go home.”
They stared at him. Buck finally spoke. His voice was gravelly. “There weren’t enough of us to intervene.”
“You’re not supposed to intervene. That’s the job of SWAT. You work with other forces. Homicide. Social Services and the fire department. And you don’t try to do their jobs.”
“Bullshit.”
Jaspers’ jaw pulsed. “I’m going to ignore that. You’re all raw. Go home, get some sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow. Try to get here by eleven.”
“We need more members.” This from Radford.
“That may be so. We’ll decide that when everybody’s saner.”
Anabelle stepped up. Her hands were clenched and her shoulders stiff. “The chief’s right,” she said with a voice like death. “Brolin, Radford, Casella. Go home, that’s an order.”
Reluctantly, they headed out.
Gideon heard Jaspers say, “You too, Sanders.”
“I—”
“Anabelle, go home, please.” He didn’t raise his voice. It was tender. That made the order worse.
The team waited at the door. Gideon grasped her arm. “Come on, we’ll see you out.”
Snow had started to fall again, and they left the building and trudged to their cars. They had nothing more to say to each other.
Gideon backed his SUV out and noticed Anabelle staring at her vehicle, her arms wrapped around each other across her chest. He stopped. Rolled down the window. “Anabelle, it’s freezing cold out there.”
She turned her head and stared at him. He got out, circled the hood and slid an arm around her. She was shivering badly. “You’re coming with me.”
She didn’t resist, which told him she was in very bad shape.
“Do you want to talk?” he asked as they drove. Reality was sinking in and he had to push it back in order to get them home.
“Can’t.”
“You can cry. I-I feel like bawling.”
“No. Be quiet and get me away from here.”
Her apartment wasn’t far from the station. Thankfully, this was Hidden Cove and not New York, so he found a space on the street.
Hurrying to the passenger side, he opened her door, reached in, undid her seatbelt and helped her out. She was trembling badly now, though the heater had blasted warmth on the way here. He secured her against him and moved them slowly to the building entrance.
The doorman frowned. “Sergeant? What’s wrong?”
“We lost someone.” Gideon struggled to keep his voice even.
“Go on up.”
At her apartment door, he asked, “Key, honey?”
Her face blanked.
He stuck his hand in her pocket. Found it and unlocked the door. She didn’t protest when he went into the apartment with her. They barely made it to the couch. They didn’t take off their coats, but sank down. He took her in his arms and drew her close.
Then, they both came apart.