He picked up the message, turning cold as he listened. He knew instantly what was wrong—he didn’t know what had happened, but he was sure she was miscarrying. He called the hospital immediately and asked for Rick Debenshire. The nurse called out Rick’s name, but no one answered. Joe explained that his partner, a San Diego Police lieutenant, was in the hospital and that he needed to know what was happening with her. He gave the woman his badge number so she’d know he really was a cop—if she had the time to check it out, that was. She told him that Ms. Chevalier was in a critical condition and that she’d come in with severe head trauma. She also had severe abdominal bleeding, the cause of which could not be identified.
“She’s pregnant,” Joe said. The nurse was taken aback. Why did her partner know that and not her husband? She thanked Joe and immediately messaged Dr. Duhane.
Meanwhile, Joe was paging John Davies with a 911. Davies called a few minutes later, sounding tired.
“John, it’s Joe Sinclair. Look, I need a real big favor.”
“What is it?” Davies came awake immediately at the urgency in Joe’s voice.
“I need your fastest plane and your best pilot to take me to San Diego right now.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Midnight—she’s in the hospital.”
“You got it,” Davies said. He called Tom Dilinger and explained what they needed.
“You got it, Chief. Tell him to meet me at the airport in half an hour.”
“Thanks, Tom,” Davies said, once again extremely pleased to be supporting Dilinger’s program.
Within half an hour Joe was at the BNE hangar at Mather Field, and Dilinger pulled up right behind him. Joe could see that Dilinger was on the phone; he talked for a few more minutes, making gestures and shaking his head, then smiled. He stepped out of his Chevy Blazer and walked over to Joe.
“Okay,” he said, clapping Joe on the shoulder. “I’ve secured us a faster transport than my Queen Air. Forestry’s going to let me use their Merlin—it’s twice as fast. I’ll have you in San Diego in an hour and a half, and the chief’s sending one of our agents to the airport to get you and take you to the hospital.”
“Thanks, man,” Joe said, eternally grateful for all Midnight’s work with this agency, and for their unwavering support of fellow law enforcement officers.
The aircraft they climbed into was very nice, but Joe was too nervous to pay much attention. He tried Rick’s cell a couple times, but there was no answer—the phone was sitting on the hall table at the Thelands’ house.
True to his word, Dilinger brought the Merlin in for a landing at the far end of Lindberg Field an hour and a half later. Joe thanked the man once again, and Dilinger told him he hoped that Midnight was okay.
Joe all but leapt down the ramp, not even noticing the bracing cold of the night air. To Joe’s surprise, Griff himself waited to take him to the hospital. Griff’s eyes were bloodshot and his face was very drawn. Joe knew Griff cared a great deal for Midnight and that this must have been hard on him, not knowing the details. Joe filled in what few blanks he could on the way to the hospital. When they arrived, Griff threw his car into park and they both leapt out, leaving the vehicle at the hospital entryway. Griff hit the arm button for his alarm as he and Joe all but ran into the hospital.
They asked for information on Midnight Chevalier. It was now two o’clock in the morning. The nurse told them Ms. Chevalier was still in a critical condition, but she was hanging on, and that Dr. Duhane was speaking to her husband in the room down the hall. Griff held back, letting Joe follow the nurse’s directions.
At that moment, the doctor was explaining to Rick what they were trying to do for Midnight. “It’s a very delicate operation, but we’re hoping to have some experts here from Mercy in an hour or two. We’re going to operate as soon as they arrive. Now, Mr. Debenshire, we were told that your wife is pregnant. Why didn’t you mention that earlier?”
“Who told you that?” Rick said, furrowing his brow. He assumed they’d been told incorrectly.
“I did,” Joe said from the doorway.
Rick stared at his best friend for a full minute, and slowly understanding dawned on him. Much as Midnight and Joe had expected, Rick assumed the baby was Joe’s and that was why they hadn’t told him about it. Dr. Duhane somehow had the presence of mind to step away from the two men.
“You fucking sonofabitch!” Rick snarled. He lunged for Joe, catching him with his shoulder and knocking him to the ground. Rick jumped on him, his fists flying. Joe managed to block Rick’s blows, but the wind had been knocked out of him when he hit the floor. He managed to recover enough to land a punch to Rick’s midsection, right before security and Griff hauled them apart.
Rick fought against the arms that held him, his face contorted in rage. “You stupid bastard!” he yelled. “You knew she couldn’t have any more kids. You knew it could kill her!”
“Yeah?” Joe said, just as venomously. “Then you shouldn’t have gotten her pregnant, you fucking asshole!”
All the fight went out of Rick then. He knew Joe wouldn’t lie about something like this. Suddenly, he realized it was his fault if she died—he’d gotten her pregnant again. It was all too much, and Rick let out what could only be described as a banshee yell. Ripping his arms free from the people holding them, he ran down the corridor, desperate to get out into the night. He needed to get away from the hospital and all the horrible revelations. He ran straight into the group from FORS, who were in the waiting room, hoping for word on their leader. Tiny went to Rick, surprised at his hysteria. Spider helped Tiny hold him, and Kana and Dibbins were trying to calm him down when Joe and Griff caught up.
Joe stood looking at the motley group. Everyone seemed to notice him at once, and they all called out to him while still trying to calm their friend. Rick finally gave up, sitting down and allowing the members of his extended family to try to make him feel better.
Joe and Rick said nothing to each other. Joe took the chair right across from his best friend; the two men exchanged looks but remained silent. Griff stood behind Joe, watching the FORS members and Rick.
Rick was surprised to notice Jack and Carrie in the waiting room. They had come in a couple of hours before and asked about their daughter. They had been told the same as everyone else—she was still in a critical condition. Rick walked over to them and indicated that if they’d like to join the group, they’d be more than welcome—and was very surprised when they opted to do just that. He made introductions, shocking the FORS team. None of them mentioned Midnight’s basic indifference to her origins. Jack and Carrie were extremely surprised that Midnight had gathered such a group together, and that these people were very obviously worried about their daughter. Even Tammy, Spider’s very pregnant wife, was there, though her husband kept telling her to at least rest on the couch in the waiting room. The hours ticked by as they waited for word on Midnight.
It was six o’clock the next morning before Dr. Duhane came out to the waiting room. He stood looking at all of the people waiting for word on his patient. Some of them were asleep, others were drinking coffee, but two remained vigilant—her husband and the man he had tried to attack earlier that morning.
Rick looked up, seeing the doctor standing there. He stood and strode over to the man, watching him the whole time. Joe stood up as well, but hung back, aware that Rick had the right to find out how she was first.
“Your wife,” Dr. Duhane began, “is a very strong woman.” His voice was still grave, but Rick began to feel a glimmer of hope. “She came through surgery very well. She’s in recovery and you won’t be able to see her for quite a while yet. We’ve managed to stabilize her blood pressure, but there was a lot of internal damage. It’s hard to say what will happen, but we’ll watch her closely and hope for the best.”
Rick wanted to pass out from relief. She wasn’t dead. She’d come through the surgery well. Maybe, just maybe… “When can I see her?” he asked. The doctor had sa
id “quite a while,” and Rick needed a time, an estimate—something.
“Let’s give it about eight hours, and then you can see her.” The doctor looked past Rick. “And your friends can see her a little while after that, but you have to understand she’s been through a lot, and she’ll need her rest.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Rick said, the beginnings of a genuine smile on his face as he shook the man’s hand.
Rick turned to the group after the doctor left and told them about Midnight’s status. A small cheer went up. Rick’s eyes fell on Joe, who was watching him. Joe had nodded when Rick gave the news, not making a sound, not smiling. Now, as he watched him, he wasn’t sure what to say. He knew he and Rick were far from reconciled; he could foresee a few more bouts like the one they’d had the night before. Joe was, however, very relieved that Midnight was closer to being out of real danger.
Chapter 5
Joe decided to go back to his house to change and shower, before returning to the hospital. When he walked up to his front door, he knew something was wrong. The alarm wasn’t on, and he knew he hadn’t left it that way. Joe reached under his jacket and pulled his gun out of its holster. He tried the door handle and found it unlocked. Opening the door slowly, he looked around it carefully. He entered the house much in the way he would conduct a search warrant or a raid, with his gun in front of him and his movements swift. He heard sounds down the hallway and moved in that direction. He stepped into the doorway of his bedroom and was stunned to see Randy and a man kissing on the bed.
Joe felt like someone had kicked him in the gut. He had to step back away from the door, away from what he was seeing. He stood with his hand on the wall, trying to force himself to breathe again. The knife in his heart burned deep; he felt sick. Moments later, hot anger flooded his veins. The fury still pulsing through him, he stepped back into the doorway. Randy had obviously heard his movements, because she sat up immediately and looked straight at him.
“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something,” Joe said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I thought this was my house.”
“Well, I guess you were wrong,” Dick Dickerson said, making a point of taking an extra few moments to remove himself from Randy, even though he could feel her trying to push him away.
Joe’s eyes shifted to him, and if looks could kill, Dickerson would have dropped dead.
“I’m not wrong about you not belonging here,” Joe said, his voice pure ice.
“Well, Randy invited me in, so it’s hardly like trespassing,” Dick said, purposely baiting Joe.
“If you’re looking to get yourself killed, you just keep talkin’.”
Randy was watching the exchange, extremely nervous.
“Oh, I don’t think—” Dick started.
“What’re you doing back?” Randy said, not able to stand it anymore. She had been going crazy for the last twenty-four hours, wondering if Midnight was really okay. That morning, before academy started, Dick had talked her into picking up the rest of her stuff from Joe’s, saying that she needed to make a complete break. Randy couldn’t help feeling like a thief in the house when Joe wasn’t there. And now here he was, home.
Joe turned his icy gaze on her, and Randy almost cringed. “Not that I think you’ll care, but Midnight’s in the hospital.”
Randy was sure that her heart stopped at that moment, but Dick managed to take Joe’s attention off her.
“Ah, what a shame,” he said, his voice dripping with cynicism.
Joe’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. “You have two seconds to get out of my house before I kill you.”
Dick climbed off the bed and took a step forward, standing taller—though even if he stretched, he would still be a full head shorter than Joe. “What’re you gonna do? Shoot me?”
Joe looked down at the gun in his hand as if he’d forgotten it was there. With an air of casual flippancy he tossed it aside. “No,” he said with a wintery smile. He almost sounded sorry. “I’d rather tear you apart with my bare hands.”
“Just try it,” Dickerson said, all bravado and testosterone.
“Don’t!” Randy screamed, jumping up and getting between them. She was facing Joe, and her eyes pleaded with him. Joe met her gaze and felt himself weaken instantly. He wanted to take her and shake her thoroughly, ask her what she was doing with a loser like Dickerson. But he knew he couldn’t touch her right now. He was already so affected by her eyes as she looked into his; he needed her to get out. Clamping down hard on his heart, he stepped aside, gesturing toward the door.
“Get out,” he said, his voice cold and hard. Randy grabbed Dick by the arm, and with strength she’d developed at the academy, she dragged him out. Joe followed them to the door.
“Randy,” he said, with no emotion whatsoever.
She turned to look at him, still holding onto Dick’s arm.
“Next time you come here, make sure I’m here, and”—his voice dropped ominously—“don’t bring him.”
Randy nodded. She wanted to get away from him as soon as possible.
A few minutes later, in Dick’s truck, she turned to him. “What the hell were you thinking?” she said, exasperated. “Baiting him like that—are you crazy?”
Dick shrugged, unconcerned. “It was so valiant of you to protect him.”
Randy stared at him for a few moments, then started to shake her head and laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Dick asked, perplexed.
Randy snickered. “I was protecting you from him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Randy said, feeling a need to strike out at him for putting her in this position, “that Joe would have ripped you limb from limb. You forget, I’ve seen him fight.”
Dick stared at her openmouthed for a minute, not believing what she had just said. She’d never been downright mean before. He turned back to his driving, aware that something was changing between them.
Randy stared out the window, feeling like her life was running in fast forward, that she was headed for disaster. Midnight was in the hospital. Joe hadn’t said how bad she was, but she just knew that something was about to happen to her. Randy was terrified. She was a part of what had happened, and she didn’t understand why Dick was so calm.
Randy had no idea how worked up Dick Dickerson really was. He was basically ready to panic. He knew that what he had done to Midnight was the stupidest thing he had ever done. He knew that his ass was hanging out there, and all Midnight Chevalier had to do was shoot it off. He wasn’t sure what to do; he needed to get away and think things out.
Dick dropped Randy off at the academy, telling her he had things to do and that he’d maybe see her tomorrow. Randy just shook her head and walked to the locker room to get ready for the physical training she had that morning. The knot of fear in her stomach just sitting there, Randy knew she had to wait and see what would happen—she just didn’t know how long she was going to have to wait.
Not very long, as it turned out. That morning, Sergeant Tim Maddy stood in front the class, looking very grave. “We’ve had some bad news this morning. One of our lieutenants is in the hospital. Lieutenant Midnight Chevalier is in a severely critical condition at Mission Bay.”
“What happened?” one of the cadets asked, and Randy tensed, wondering if this was when the police officers would handcuff her and take her away.
“It’s not known what happened at this point, but we’ll let you all know when we hear anything.”
****
After talking to the doctor that morning, Rick went back to the house, intent on completing the painful task of removing all signs of Midnight’s blood. Upon inspection, however, he found blood in the bathroom, and in the hallway, and in the entryway. There were a few marks on the marble entryway floor, as well as on the wall, making Rick believe that Midnight had indeed fought someone. He had already suspected that she had been attacked, considering the severity of her head wound and the damage to her body,
as if she’d been slammed up against something. He suspected that something was the wall he was examining.
Anger welled up in him. She had fought someone, and they had done this to her and left her to die. Rick found himself wanting to hit something, or someone. It had long since occurred to him that had he dawdled any more when he brought Mikeyla home, trying to prove to Midnight that he had just as much right to time with their daughter as she did, Midnight may well have died. Instead of clearing up as he’d planned, Rick decided to contact the crime scene investigation team at the department. They came out and began going through the house meticulously. Rick stood by, watching and waiting.
Unfortunately, they were unable to locate any prints on the door except for Midnight’s. It became evident that she had let her attacker in. Rick became even more uncomfortable with that thought; it meant that she probably knew the assailant, and that worried him. If that person knew that Midnight could identify them, they may make another try for her. Rick informed the investigators, one of whom he knew pretty well, that he was going back to the hospital. He told them that he’d arm the alarm, and they should just close the door when they left.
His cell went off as he was driving. It was almost noon. He looked at the number and realized it was Joe’s. Dialing, he tried to push away the thoughts of Midnight and Joe together. He knew being mad at Joe at this point would be counterproductive. He also found it difficult to talk to the man who had been his best friend since he was five years old.
“’Lo?”
“Joe, it’s me. What’s up?” Rick asked briskly.
“Your parents called me, said they weren’t sure where to call you…” Joe’s voice trailed off, and Rick knew he was thinking of the fact that Rick was living at Sheila’s house.
Treachery Rising (MidKnight Blue Book 4) Page 10