Saving Poughkeepsie

by Debra Anastasia

Now he kept trying to leave to help the station do the ridiculous amount of paperwork required to explain and document the crazy-assed day they’d had, but then he’d spin on his heel to taste her another “one last time.” The knowing look in her eyes drove him crazy, and her accent was brain meltingly sexy.

  “You leaving, Chuck Norris? I’ve still got a little time for you.” She traced his chest with her manicured finger.

  “Mmmm…so much of Poughkeepsie has just finished burning right now,” he said, struggling to form coherent thoughts.

  “I know a few things here that are extremely hot. You may need to attend to them.” After that she initiated a kiss, her grip on his neck promising that her words were true.

  Finally, moments later, she pushed him out, shutting the door so he would go back to work. Ryan shook his head as he headed for his truck. That woman was better than Viagra dipped in tequila for his penis. She could make fun of him, yet still keep him feeling super-duper manly—her words.

  They’d been coming out of a restaurant after dinner a few weeks ago when she’d first told him that. “You know I love a man who carries a piece,” she’d said nonchalantly.

  He remembered the burst of pride he felt when she’d noticed he was wearing it. “Part of the job.”

  “It’s a sexy part, Chuck Norris.”

  His male ego had exploded all over the place, and he’d just smiled, unable to form actual words for a moment.

  “Hey, what’s that bitch doing to your truck?” Midian had asked a moment later as they crossed the parking lot.

  He’d shaken his head at his pyscho ex. “That’s Trish. She’s insane.”

  “Oh, the chick that keeps putting all that crap on your truck?”

  “Uh, yeah. She seems to still be pissed we aren’t dating anymore.”

  “Well, shoot her,” Midian had said, as if the solution were perfectly obvious. For a moment Ryan had felt like he was talking to Beckett. Trish still hadn’t noticed them. She was busy toilet-papering the truck as if it were a mummy.

  “I can’t. I wish I could. She’s wrecked my stuff a ton.”

  “That’s bullshit. No way, cariño.” In an instant, Midian had slipped off her heels and pulled off her earrings. “This bitch will have a very nice conversation with my fist in a minute.”

  He’d held out his hand and accepted her jewelry, thinking surely she was kidding.

  “Hey, slutron, back up off my boyfriend’s truck!” Midian called. She moved so quickly, Ryan had to jog to catch up.

  Trish had her wild eyes on. “Boyfriend? He was my fiancé, my soul mate. How about you back up off my future?”

  Trish had stood a good foot taller than Midian, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “Hit me,” Midian dared. “Hit me once, baby. Make it good, though. It’s the only shot you’ll get in.”

  Trish had bared her teeth in a way that meant she was on her second bottle of wine and she thought she was making a smile. “Fine, bitch.” She’d stepped up.

  “Ladies, please, no need to fight over me,” Ryan had said. But an evil voice in his head contradicted him. Go for it, ladies. Fight for me. I need popcorn and a little alone time in the bathroom.

  Trish pushed hard on Midian’s forehead with her index finger. Midian had used her boobs to begin, bouncing them off Trish’s torso. And Trish had snapped. Ryan had stopped fantasizing when she slapped Midian across the face, then grabbed a handful of her hair.

  Instead of returning the slap or grabbing Trish’s hair in retaliation, Midian had reached up and grabbed the hand Trish had put in her hair. She then gave her a right uppercut to the jaw that surely resulted in whiplash. Trish tried to pull her hand back, but now Midian used it as a way to keep her close. She punched Trish in the eye and then again. The last time she hit her, Trish had covered her face with her other hand.

  At that point Ryan had finally stepped in and lifted Midian in the air. “Whoa, spitfire. I don’t want you to kill her.”

  He’d then realized a crowd had gathered, which grew his man card another two sizes. And the cop part of his brain liked them all as witnesses for Midian. Everyone had seen that Trish instigated the physical part of the confrontation.

  That date with Midian had next included a trip to jail for Trish—finally his truck-cam footage had paid off as a record of her vandalism—and Midian twisted up like a pretzel, screaming his name at her apartment. Yet another time he’d been reluctant to leave.

  As he pulled into the parking lot at the police station, he contemplated turning around yet again. She could fight, she had an accent, and his mother was freaking crazy about her. “That girl, she looks at you like you’re her future,” Mom had told him. “You be good to that one.” And that was his plan. If Midian stayed in love with him, he was going to let her know he had every intention of marrying her. Difficult as it had been, he was now thankful for Eve’s presence in his life, because she’d made him realize he wanted love. He needed it, and more importantly, he deserved it.

  He texted Beckett to check in, still smiling to himself as he walked into the building. Beckett texted back almost immediately and asked to meet—quite politely, actually—and also asked Ryan to bring McHugh along.

  No wonder he’d been so polite. Perhaps Ryan was just in a charitable mood, but it did seem to make sense for them to work together at this point. He took a deep breath and texted his boss as well.

  Beckett sat on the hood of his Challenger and tried to ignore the pain in his shoulder while he waited for Morales to arrive. He pulled into Firefly Park about twenty minutes later, just as dusk gave way to full darkness.

  “Penis chunk.” He said in greeting.

  “Vagina flap,” Beckett replied.

  Morales came around his infamous truck to stand in front of him. “Eve okay?”

  “So far. She sent me pictures of the kids. Doing the DNA testing, so we’ll see.”

  Ryan looked at his shoes. “You going to be with her soon?”

  “As soon as I tie up a few loose ends.” Beckett nodded in the direction of the parking lot entrance. “Company’s here.”

  McHugh parked his car and got out with a look of supreme disapproval. He shook Ryan’s hand and ignored Beckett. “I see no point in us talking. Actions speak louder than words, and I know you almost got my girls, my grandchildren, killed today.” McHugh pointed at Beckett’s face.

  “But they’re just fine, aren’t they? I’m not suggesting that was a good thing to have happen. I hated it,” Beckett said. “But since then I’ve been able to stop additional fires and explosions. And also, Vitullo’s dead,” he added after a moment. “And his son. I’m positive. No resurrecting this time.”

  “Is that supposed to help? Because Vitullo’s been in business for years. Hell, since I was a little kid, and never have any of his dealings blown up a building in my town.” McHugh’s veins were popping out in his neck.

  “No, but his daughter did kidnap Livia to impress her papa,” Beckett countered. He noticed Morales giving a small nod.

  “And my son-in-law found her,” McHugh shot back. “And he brought her back to me. He has a lot going for him, but getting mixed up with the likes of you is not one of his strengths in my estimation. You are a rabble rouser and damn near had anarchy in Poughkeepsie.”

  “I’m not trying to take credit for Blake’s heroism,” Beckett said calmly. “My brother did good. I’m inspired by him, just like you are, and as I’ve said, I’m making changes. You guys had your hands full, and I’m not saying I’m blameless, but as much as I love my brothers, I needed to make the people of this city safe as best I could. That’s what I had. I could ask them to defend what’s theirs. And they were proud to do it too. I don’t deserve it, but I wish you’d give me a shot. We’ve already started giving people a chance to go straight and get on their feet. And we’re trying to make a place to help foster kids’ transition into life. Can you see the intention there?”

  “I’ve seen the places you and your crew are f
ixing up. I’m aware. But don’t you see, I have to assume these places are for your own gain. ’Cause I remember you from back in the day, when you were a drug dealing, thieving pimp with a chip on his shoulder. I remember that guy real well. You weren’t the one on the other end of testimony for years dealing with the outcomes of your ‘leadership.’ I’m going to have to see a lot more than freshly painted drywall to put a halo on your goddamn head.”

  McHugh crossed his arms in front of his chest. “One of the ones who comes to mind now is Eve. How’s she doing? Did she live through your little escapade? How about her father? Dr. Hartt’s been missing for months. No funeral. No explanation. Those are the kinds of telltale signs that, for me as a policeman? That raises a few flags.”

  Beckett chewed on his bottom lip. He didn’t deny any of it. “Time will tell, then. I know nothing I say means anything to you. You’ll have to see success, and I’ll give you that. Just like you guys had help when you needed it.”

  “You’re assuming I’ll let you stay in town, Taylor. And I’ve never agreed to that.”

  “I’d like to offer my crews to aid in clean up from today’s mess,” Beckett said. “They work fast, and they deliver top-notch construction.”

  “I’m not taking anything from you, except your freedom one fine day. Walk the straight and narrow, Taylor. The minute you spit gum on the sidewalk, I’ll have your ass in jail. You need to drop to your goddamn knees and thank the Lord that my two girls love you as much as they do. They don’t see what I see, and they’re the only reason I’m not pulling you in right now.”

  McHugh got in his police car and sped off.

  “That went well.” Morales snapped his gum.

  “I thought so, Sargent Sarcasm. He didn’t arrest me on the spot, so I’ll take what I can get. I’m serious about my guys helping out. Each house has a site leader and a nice little crew of hard workers, and they went out into the streets with hammers in hand this afternoon. You get in a pinch, call me.” Beckett pushed away from his car. “I’m just glad the worst of it seems to be over.”

  “You going to see Eve?” Ryan took steps toward his truck. “She’s going to need you. Alison Wexford’s parents intend to try for custody of the babies. They don’t understand why Eve is ‘posing’—their word—as the babies’ mother. They want a DNA sample from her.”

  “Yeah. I’m waiting on those very DNA results right now—need to have some answers for her before I bring it up again. But I’ll get in touch with her right now.” Beckett got in the driver’s side and nodded at Morales as he walked away.

  Once the truck had left the parking lot, he dialed Eve and couldn’t believe how great he felt when he heard her sleepy voice on the other end of the line.

  “Hey, killer! How you doin’?”

  “I’m just fine. How are you?” she asked. “Spider won’t tell me much, but I can see from the news that some serious shit went down in Poughkeepsie today.”

  “Yeah, sort of Rodolfo’s last stand, but baby, you’d be so proud of the work we’ve done. Our people really came together today, and we beat him. We saved this town—something none of us could have done on our own.”

  She was silent on the other end of the line.

  “I know I sound like a crazy person, some drugged-out hippy, so I’ll shut up,” he said. “Tell me about those babies. I can’t wait to come see them.”

  “No, no. I’m just amazed,” she finally managed. “I’m overwhelmed by everything at this point, but if everyone’s safe and you feel good, I’m really, really glad.”

  He could hear her taking a deep breath.

  “Listen, visiting hours will be over by the time you could get here, and I’m going to get some sleep as soon as they make me leave,” she said. “If things were as crazy as they seem to have been, why don’t you sleep for a while and come in the morning?”

  Always so practical. Beckett decided this wasn’t the time to tell her their house had burned to the ground, or that he wasn’t quite sure where his brothers were staying at the moment. “I think you’re probably right,” he told her. “I’ll keep tabs around here for a few more hours, get some rest, and then be there first thing tomorrow.”

  “Okay, see you then,” she said. “Love you.”

  Beckett hung up and decided a quick trip to urgent care would probably be in his best interest. And he didn’t want any leftover Vitullo idiots flaring up either. He looked down and silently willed his phone to bring him a message from Dildo. He needed that DNA info. He needed to not break his promise to Eve.

  31

  Fighters

  The next morning, with a few hours of sleep in the front seat of the Challenger under his belt—just like the old days—and a last-minute delivery from Dildo in his pocket, Beckett strolled into the NICU in Maryland with a nurse by his side. He was busy charming her, like he always would. She watched carefully as he washed his hands.

  Eve had taken a hotel room next to the hospital, running there for a quick shower and a power nap when there were shift changes, but she was here right now, keeping her vigil.

  He kissed the top of her head, standing behind her chair. “How are they?”

  “Good. They’re fighters. This is Teddy, and that’s Mouse.”

  Beckett smiled and shook his head as he went to the opposite side of the crib and reached his big hand in to gently touch her. “They both are loving that, you know? Wherever they are, they love it.”

  Eve just smiled. Teddy had his little hand curled around her pinkie finger. She winced as she shifted positions.

  “You okay, killer?” he asked.

  She smiled. “My back is seizing up a little, but I’m not letting go until he does.”

  A nurse pulled a second chair over, and Beckett thanked her as he sat.

  He smiled at Eve. “I would expect nothing less, but you haven’t slept in a while. You need a break?”

  Eve shook her head. “They never take a break. Not for a minute. They fight every second.”

  Mouse curled her free hand around Beckett’s index finger. “They are so tiny,” he marveled. “Perfect too.”

  She nodded.

  “I’ve got some news for you.”

  She met his gaze. “Okay.”

  “You are their mother.”

  She dropped her gaze from him to the babies. Even he could hardly believe it: the precious, tiny ones were hers.

  “Oh. Wow.”

  She was silent after that, so controlled. Beckett didn’t notice she was crying until one of her tears splashed on the plastic crib.

  “Wow,” she said again, looking up to smile at him.

  He nodded, smiling back. “Congratulations.”

  Then she asked with her eyes the question he knew she didn’t want to voice. His face went from happy to resigned to the truth.

  “So he’s the father,” she said softly.

  Beckett shrugged. “Doesn’t change the fact that these kids are yours and they’re perfect.”

  She rocked back in forth in her seat. “My dad would have loved this day.”

  “He’s loving it, baby, just like I said. You know he is.” Beckett removed his hand from the incubator reverently before coming to stand next to her. He held his arms open, and she pulled him down to her, hugging him hard. Little Teddy wiggled and freed her finger. Eve let Beckett pull her into a standing hug.

  After a moment she sighed and looked at the clock. “Shift time. We got to get out.”

  She blew kisses to the babies. Her babies. And left the NICU with Beckett as the nurses started their change procedures. As they walked in the hallway, he held her and she allowed it.

  “Now the bad news.” Beckett stopped and turned her by the shoulders to face him again. “Ryan says Bill and Cindy are starting the process of attempting to get custody of the babies. They’ve asked for a DNA sample from you.”

  Eve closed her eyes for a moment. “I guess I should have called them back. I know they left messages with the nurses here. This must be
so painful for them.” Eve reached into the pocket of her jeans and looked at the note. “I’ll fix it now.”

  “What do you want to do?” Beckett asked.

  “I’m going to talk to them. Tell them the truth.”

  Beckett followed her to the sidewalk where she dialed the number on the note and hit speaker.

  “I have a message from you,” she said when he answered. “This is Eve.”

  “Well, as soon as I get the courts involved you’re willing to call,” he snapped.

  “I’d like to meet with you,” Eve continued, her voice even. “When’s good for you?”

  “How about now? We’re staying at the Hilton. Because as soon as the papers go through, we want to see the babies. Just because the hospital thinks you’re their mother doesn’t make it true.”

  “I’ll meet you in the lobby now,” she continued smoothly, unruffled. “That’s my hotel too.” Eve disconnected the call.

  “I can have lawyers handle this,” Beckett offered. “You’re exhausted. And they’re raw from the loss of their daughter and son-in-law.” He held her hand again.

  “I’m doing it now. Coming?” Eve walked to the back of the parking lot. The Hilton was connected to the hospital by a dirt path made by all those who’d cut through before.

  Bill and Cindy were already waiting when they walked in. Bill gestured to the two sofas in the lobby like he owned them. Eve sat, and Beckett took the spot next to her.

  Bill had just opened his mouth to speak when Eve turned to Beckett.

  “Can I have the results?” she asked.

  He pulled a folded paper from his back pocket and handed it to her.

  Eve was exhausted—physically and emotionally—but she knew these parents’ pain was just beginning. It infused her with patience and compassion rather than the irritation and anger she might have expected.

  “We did a DNA test,” she told them calmly, handing them the paper. “I’m the biological mother. But know that I’ll take as many of those tests as you want me to. Whatever you need. The biological father is dead, and I can bring you proof of that as well.”