There was something wild in her eyes. Was she high on something or merely lying? He wasn’t sure, but he did know that so far, they had definitely not heard the whole story.
Fresh concern flared through him. “Link, report in, please, and call for backup and medical assistance.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Cameron started talking into his radio, Eddie scanned the area for anything that looked suspicious. “Your name, ma’am?”
“Mae Classic.”
After he got a few more bits of information, he gestured toward the door. “Mrs. Classic, perhaps you could let us in the house?”
She complied, though she looked pretty doubtful as she hefted herself up the three cement steps that led to the front door. “He might be awake now. And I told you, it’s locked.”
Well, that was a lie obviously. Her husband couldn’t have locked her out if he was unconscious on the kitchen floor. “Let us in, please,” he said again, this time his voice a little firmer.
The authoritative tone produced results. Mae bent down, rummaged in a pile of trash near a bush that had seen better days, located a key, then unlocked the door.
With a creak and a groan, it slowly opened. The woman stepped to one side. For a moment Eddie considered just hauling her out to the cruiser and waiting for backup before they continued, since they knew she was lying.
But though unkempt, she didn’t look violent—just scared. He decided to keep a close eye on her.
After telling her to wait outside, Eddie entered the house, Cameron directly behind him.
The minute they entered the kitchen, the coppery scent of blood greeted them. Seconds later the body came into view.
There was no way the man had been hit with a book. More like a hammer.
Right away Cameron approached the man and bent down to check for a pulse. After a moment he shook his head. “The guy’s dead.”
Mae, obviously unable to listen, paled and tried to shuffle out of the room. But Eddie had had enough. Pointing at her, he said, “Mrs. Classic, don’t even think about moving.”
Caught, she gulped. “Is he really gone?”
“Oh, yeah,” Cameron said.
Tears started flowing like a waterfall as she sputtered, “How did that happen?”
“How?”
“I didn’t do this.”
It was like they were in a funhouse. Not a thing she was saying or doing made any sense.
Eddie moved her to a corner, where she was more or less contained, though still crying loudly enough to scare anyone nearby. “Report in again, Link, then we’ll need to scan the premises. There’s a chance she’s not alone.”
“Yes, sir.”
Outside the house, sirens blared and the comforting sound of radios and Sal’s voice rang out from the front entryway. “Wagner?”
“In the kitchen.”
When Sal appeared, along with two EMTs and another officer, Eddie filled them in. “We only arrived a few moments ago. Link was about to comb the perimeter.”
“We’ll assist.”
Detective John Nelson was all business as he pulled out his cuffs. “Ma’am, you’re going to have to come with us.”
Her eyes widened, but otherwise she didn’t move as she was secured.
Eddie also noticed that she didn’t look all that shocked or remorseful anymore. “Load her into my car and wait for me. I’ll bring her in.”
The moment John guided her toward the door, she started yelling, “I didn’t do nothing! I only hit him with a book!”
Sal rolled his eyes. “Some book.”
“You have the right to remain silent,” John began as he grabbed her elbow and started walking her out. Thankfully Mae stopped talking.
“You know what? I’ll take her in with Nelson. You can—” Sal began, just as a pair of shots rang out, seeming to come from nowhere. Within seconds, Sal had his gun out.
“Shooter, room one!” Cameron called.
Sal darted forward.
Nelson pushed Mrs. Classic down. Eddie swore, then leapt forward, his weapon out, his eyes scanning. The two EMTs nodded to him as he left the kitchen and ran to the stairwell. He was just about to call out again when another pair of shots rang out.
“Wagner! Get down!” Sal called, then yelled into his radio. “Man down. Shots fired. Backup requested.”
Man down? From his crouching position, Eddie looked for his partner. “Link? You okay?”
When his partner didn’t answer, Eddie combed the area in front of him. When a shadow moved near the corner of a worn sofa, he found the shooter and yelled a warning.
Sal was next to him in a heartbeat, gun cocked and directed at the perpetrator. “I’ve got it, Wagner.” More loudly he said, “Put that gun down, son, before you get yourself hurt.”
When no answer came, Sal repeated his warning. “Come out, hands up, or I’ll fire. And I shoot to kill.”
After a long moment the shooter came out of the shadows of the next room. Eddie’s arms strained as he kept his gun and attention on what had to be a kid no more than sixteen.
Sal kept his voice even and steady. “Drop the gun, son. Now.”
The kid’s eyes widened as he slowly set the pistol on the arm of an extremely soiled easy chair.
As soon as the gun was secured, Sal was by the kid’s side and cuffing him. “Are you alone?”
“Yeah.”
Two more officers appeared from around the corner, along with Cameron and another cop from upstairs. “He’s right. It’s clear,” Cameron said, his face devoid of all color.
“You did good, Cowboy,” Eddie said.
But for once Cameron didn’t even raise an eyebrow at the jab. “Sergeant!”
“Hey, settle down, Link. We did everything we could.”
“No, sir.”
Huh? Remembering Sal’s message in the thick of things, he said, “Who’s down? Who was shot?”
“You are, Wagner,” Sal said. “Sit down and stop moving.”
“What?” Eddie heard sirens approaching. Climbing to his feet, he was surprised to feel his world tilt a bit. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
One of the EMTs rushed forward. “Let’s get you out of here, Sergeant. Can you walk?”
“Can I?” Nothing was making any sense. “What?”
“You’ve been hit, Wagner,” Sal said again. “Contain your firearm, Sergeant. We’ll handle things now.”
Eddie did as he was told. Only when he moved his arm did he notice the burning sensation. Looking quickly at his arm, he stared at it in surprise. Blood had soaked through most of his sleeve and was dripping on the matted baby-blue carpet. “Oh, hell.”
“Let’s go, Ed,” Sal murmured, just as Eddie felt two strong arms support him on either side and escort him out of the house. Oh, damn. “There’s another bullet wound on his side, so watch it!”
Eddie tried to crane his neck to see what they were talking about. “Sal, I don’t think—”
“He’s losing blood!” the guy on his left shouted. “Hey, we need a stretcher!”
Eddie looked at his arm again. Most of it was stained red. He looked down. Red splatters marked his shoes. Black spots swam before his eyes. “Shawn. Tell Shawn it’s okay,” he murmured to Sal. “She’ll worry.”
“I will.”
“Shawn’s my…my wife.”
“We know, buddy. Hush.”
Then Eddie’s world went dark.
“YOU KNOW, I’ve been thinking about your predicament, and I think I have a solution for you,” Tricia said as they were walking out of Carnegie at 3:00 p.m.
“What predicament?” As usual, Shawn stood for a moment with her eyes closed, letting her body adjust to the change in temperature. While Carnegie kept the offices at a brisk sixty-eight degrees, the outside temperature was a full thirty degrees warmer.
“The fact that you’re going to have four kids who’ll need day care.”
“I’ve been aware of this, Tricia.” Gosh, did ever
yone in the world think she was completely flaky? “I know I don’t act like I care about details, but I actually do. By the time school starts at the end of August, I’ll have things settled.”
Tricia looked doubtful. “Even with Mrs. Henderson?”
“Well, no.” She hadn’t yet been able to summon up the nerve to talk to Mrs. Henderson about the possibility of taking in one more child—and a baby at that. “But I will.”
Though the hot Florida sun beat down on them, Shawn was happy to see that Tricia felt the same way about being outside that she did. Tricia, too, was slipping off her blazer and stretching in the warm humid air.
It felt good to stand in the parking lot for a moment.
“It’s going to be tough, you know. I mean, think what a challenge it’s going to be to even get them all in the car. All those car seats!”
“It probably will be tough. But I’ve been doing it for three already.” After slipping off the sweater she needed for the cold-as-a-freezer air-conditioning and popping on her sunglasses, Shawn joined Tricia on the steps. “Why have you been thinking about my child-care needs?”
“It’s hard not to. That used to be my forte, remember? I’m just going to say it. I want to watch your kids.”
That stopped Shawn in her tracks. “What? How are you going to do that? I’m upping my hours, remember? Our days are always going to overlap.”
“They won’t if I quit Carnegie.”
“Shh! Don’t say that.”
“Why? Because you think there’s people lurking under cars listening in?” Though Tricia’s sunglasses were too dark to let Shawn see her eyes, Shawn had an idea Tricia was wearing an expression of disdain. “Gosh, they probably are. But I don’t care. I can’t do this any longer. I can’t sit in a cubicle eight and ten hours a day anymore. It’s making me crazy.”
Though Tricia had certainly told her plenty of times that she was unhappy, Shawn had held out hope that she’d start to like her job at Carnegie. “I thought things were going better. You said your phone calls today went fine.”
“They did. And I’m even getting used to the regimented schedule and the beige walls and the lack of atmosphere. But the thing is, I don’t want to get used to all that. This isn’t the job for me. I’m not happy.”
They stopped in front of her van. “How are you going to be happy watching my children? The pay won’t be near what you’re making here.”
“I’m not concerned about the money. Well, not that much. And Mark just got a better benefits package, so I won’t need to work for insurance.”
“But being home all day?” Now that, to Shawn, sounded like a trap. She loved her girls, but was well aware how demanding their schedules were. It was hard to have a moment to get a load of laundry done, let alone find a moment to have a cup of coffee.
“It sounds like heaven. I can wear shorts and T-shirts, instead of work clothes. I can play outside instead of talk to strangers.” Reaching out, Tricia gripped Shawn’s arm. “All I know is that I can’t sit in another one of these cubicles for the rest of my life. Even Mark agrees that it’s making me kind of nuts.”
Shawn hated herself for doing it, but already she was thinking of how nice it would be for her kids to have Tricia. “How would we manage things? I’m not even sure how far away you live from me.”
“I was hoping you’d let me come to your house.”
“Really?” Just imagining life without the hour-long process of getting kids up, dressed, fed and in the car sounded incredible. In addition, Kit and Mary could catch their school bus from their own house, instead of the sitter’s. Tricia’s idea sounded like a dream come true.
“Really. If I went to your place, I wouldn’t have to childproof my home right away, and your house would be all set for the baby.”
Shawn was pretty much speechless. “I don’t know what to say. It sounds awesome.”
“Say you’ll think about it.”
Shawn was just about to say she’d do exactly that when her cell phone rang. Her heart jumped to her throat when she saw who was on the caller ID. “I’ve got to take this,” she said. Suddenly feeling cold, she clicked On. “Hello? Sal?”
“Shawn, thank God you answered. Listen, there’s been a shooting.”
Her world spun.
“Shawn!” Tricia reached out and put an arm around her and braced her against the van’s side.
“Hello? Hello, Shawn?”
Tricia helped her get the phone back to her ear. It took all her strength to speak coherently. “I’m here. A shooting? Eddie? Is Eddie okay?”
Sal’s voice was heavy with emotion. “He’s been shot, Shawn. But we rushed him into the hospital. He just got rolled into surgery.”
Obviously Tricia had heard Sal’s booming voice because she wrapped an arm around Shawn and held on tight. “Which hospital?”
“Destin Community.” Sal spoke again. “Where are you now? Are you in town or at the beach?”
She looked around, dazed. “Work?”
“You’re at work. Okay. You’re close. You don’t sound good, honey. Do you think you can get here on your own? Can you drive? Or how about I get an officer to come pick you up?”
“I’ll drive.” Though she wasn’t sure she could. At the moment all she could think about was that Eddie had been shot.
Tricia grabbed the phone from her and spoke into it. “Sal, this is Tricia Blake, a friend of Shawn’s. I’m gonna take her to the hospital.”
Shawn just stood there as Tricia got directions and clicked Off. “I, uh, just gotta get someone to watch the kids.”
“I’ll do it,” Tricia quickly volunteered. “I’ll pick them up as soon as I get you to the hospital.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. Hop in and hand me your keys.”
Shawn let Trish take the wheel of her minivan. As soon as they got on the freeway, she called Mrs. Henderson and told her that Tricia would be picking up Kit, Mary and Elsie. Feeling in a fog, she looked at the phone. “I better call Eddie’s parents, too.”
“Sal said he’d make the phone calls,” Tricia said. “You okay? How’s the baby?”
Wrapping her arms around her middle, Shawn felt a little flutter. “Hanging in there. We’re both hanging in there.”
Tricia took a turn a little too fast, but soon stopped in front of the emergency entrance at Destin Community. By this time Shawn’s head was clear and her emotions were in check. “Thanks so much. I don’t know how I would have gotten here otherwise.”
“That’s what friends are for. Now go on in. Sal said there’d be a uniformed cop on the lookout for you.”
Shawn unbuckled. “Do you think this is strange? I mean, we’re divorced.” Funny how she felt like she needed to remind herself of that often.
“I don’t,” Tricia replied with a faint smile. “See, Sal told me something else. Eddie asked for you right before he lost consciousness. He called out your name. I think he cares about you, too, Shawn. I think he might still care more than you know.”
Fighting tears, Shawn nodded. She knew she still cared more than she’d wanted to admit. “Call me if you have any problem with the girls.”
“I will. I’ve got your keys and your garage door opener, I’ll pick them up and make them some dinner. Don’t you worry. They’ll be fine. Call me later.”
Shawn promised she would just as a fresh-faced kid with blond curly hair approached her respectfully. “Mrs. Wagner? I’ll take you to where everyone is waiting for your husband.”
Chapter Seventeen
Officer Cameron Link, Eddie’s new partner, walked Shawn through the maze of corridors and into a private waiting room in a partitioned section of the emergency ward. “Everyone’s in here, ma’am,” he said, his voice solemn.
“Thank you, Officer,” she said, taking care to keep her voice just as formal as his, though she did give in to temptation and squeezed his arm as they walked through the doorway. He looked young and scared and definitely blown away by th
e events of the day.
She felt exactly the same—but now that some of the shock had worn off, she vowed to try a little harder to hold herself together. Cops’ families did that.
As soon as she entered the waiting room, everyone rose to their feet.
Shawn knew their gesture was a sign of respect. She, herself, had sat beside Eddie in this very room when Sal had been injured in a police chase three years ago. But still, the sea of blue uniforms made a lump form in her throat. It was a powerful sight.
With some surprise Shawn realized she still knew them all.
After hugging Bill and Sharon, who were sitting with their minister, she turned to Sal. “This is horrible,” she murmured to the tall beanpole-thin lieutenant.
“It is.” His expression stricken, he swallowed hard. “I sure am sorry, Shawn. I tried to look out for him, but the situation was a nightmare.”
“Don’t apologize. Eddie would be feeling worse if you two had switched places.”
“I wish we had.” The lieutenant’s usual fierce expression crumbled.
And that, of course, made everything else seem even harder to bear. She could very well be losing Eddie. Losing him when everything inside her wasn’t sure if she wanted him back in her life or just wanted the crazy feelings she had begun to have for him again to subside once and for all.
Sal, ever the gentleman and cornerstone of strength, strode forward and reached out his arms. That was all she needed. Tears pricked her eyes. She blinked hard, trying to be strong. But as soon as her forehead made contact with his shoulder, the dam broke and the tears flowed.
His arms tightened around her shoulders as one hand clumsily patted a shoulder blade. “You cry it out. Crying’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
She gave in for another few moments, then called herself to duty. She was stronger than this. Being a cop’s wife—even a cop’s former wife—meant accepting that anything could happen at any time. After wiping her eyes with the neatly folded white handkerchief Sal had hastily drawn out of his back pocket, she pulled herself together. “So, what do they know?”
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