The Ex Assignment (Rogue Protectors Book 1)

by Victoria Paige

  20

  Downtown Medical Center was swarmed in blue. The news that Captain Mitchell had gone critical struck the LAPD at its core. At fifty-seven, the captain had been on the force for more than thirty-five years. He had made enemies, but he was well respected among his peers, not to mention by lawyers, politicians, and case victims like Gabby.

  Because Gabby, Kelso, and Delgado were directly under his command, they were allowed into the Center for Infectious Disease wing of the hospital. The hallway was wider than the regular ones they’d passed in the hospital. A clean room divided the corridor in the middle and that was as far as they were allowed to go. Chairs and benches were arranged along the wall. Gabby spotted the police chief and his wife who were comforting Vanessa—the captain’s wife of thirty-two years.

  Seeing her, Vanessa’s face crumpled as Gabby approached. The two women hugged. “Oh, Gabby, I’m so scared.”

  “What did the doctor say?”

  They broke apart and Mitchell’s wife swiped the tears from her eyes. “The antiviral seemed to have little effect.”

  “But it worked on Chen.”

  “The doctor said it might be because of his age and health … the stress.” Vanessa put a hand over her mouth as her voice grew garbled from the effort not to sob. “A weakened immune system.”

  “I’ve called Steven and Eric,” she continued. “They’re flying in tonight. I should have called them sooner …”

  Gabby hugged the woman again. At least their sons were all grown up and were successful in their careers. Steven was a lawyer. Eric followed in his father’s footsteps in law enforcement and was now an FBI agent.

  She, Kelso, and Delgado continued to comfort Vanessa. They eventually migrated to an area with a couch. After a while, Gabby excused herself to look for Declan who seemed to have disappeared. So much for keeping her company. On her way to the vending machine, she spotted him coming in from a stairwell.

  He didn’t look pleased and, when he saw her, the look of regret in his eyes made her more anxious than she already was.

  “Where did you go?” she demanded.

  “Garrison.”

  “He’s here?”

  “Not anymore.”

  Getting information out of Declan regarding the spook could be a knuckle-dragging affair. “What did he say?”

  “Gabby.”

  “What. Did. He. Tell. You?” she enunciated. “If it has anything to do with the Z-91 virus, I need to know.”

  Declan blew out a breath. “Can’t tell anyone. It’s gonna cause a panic.”

  “Do I look like I earned my stripes yesterday? I know how to handle information, Dec,” she snapped.

  He regarded her carefully and then reached out his arm. “Come here.”

  “Don’t.” Her eyes warmed with tears.

  She tried to ward him off, but he caught her arm and pulled her close. “I know you’re scared for Mitchell.”

  “It doesn’t look good,” she choked.

  Declan didn’t say anything, but continued to soothe her, rubbing her back. Gabby leaned away and peered up into his face. “You know something.”

  He gave a tight nod. “The strain that infected Ortega and Chen was different from what Mitchell has.”

  “How is that possible? It couldn’t have mutated so easily.”

  “Some DNA of the virus has been altered. The virologist with the CDC believes how easy it attaches to a host will determine its pathology.”

  “English, Declan.”

  His jaw worked reflexively. “It’s a virus that has the ingenuity of a parasite. Parasites know which hosts it can feed on to grow stronger. The strain that has developed in Mitchell is aggressive. I don’t think they’ll allow anyone past the clean room who’s not suited up properly.”

  “They won’t allow Vanessa to see him?”

  Declan’s eyes softened. “They will. They’re coming up with a new protocol to handle entry into the area.”

  “Does he have a chance, Dec?”

  “I don’t know, Angel.”

  He held her eyes, but she couldn’t see any hope in them. She inhaled a ragged breath and buried her face on his chest again. She was just coming to terms with Peter’s death, but with Mitchell the sorrow was instant. Her heart was feeling all the agony of an impending loss. She couldn’t count how many times she’d gone to Mitchell’s home for Sunday dinner, and she remembered Vanessa dropping by her place bringing chicken soup the couple of times she’d been sick.

  She blinked and tears rolled down her cheeks and soaked Declan’s shirt. His arms tightened around her. Uniforms walked by, probably people she worked with, witnessing her break down, but she didn’t care. She knew that they understood. The LAPD could be wrought in politics, division conflict, and sometimes even racism plagued their ranks, but when the life of one of their own was on the line, everyone bled blue.

  Radio static … 14242 … static 14242 … final call for badge 14242.

  Captain Frank Mitchell of the LAPD answered his final call on September 28, 2019. He served the department with outstanding leadership and an integrity admired by his peers.

  Badge 14242, you are cleared for end of watch.

  Captain Frank Mitchell has gone home for the final time.

  Several members of the LAPD gathered at the GHD for the dispatcher’s end-of-watch transmission for Captain Mitchell. It was emotional and full of sadness. For Gabby, it held an undercurrent of helpless fury. Captain Mitchell was cremated, and his remains wouldn’t even be turned over to Vanessa. The funeral the next day would be an empty casket. Gabby understood the concerns for public safety and the captain’s widow did too, but that didn’t lessen the unbridled anger rioting inside Gabby, seeking to find its target.

  After the last call was announced, everyone turned to each other for comfort. There was hardly a dry eye in the office. Nadia was quietly sobbing in the corner, sitting on a bench against the wall. Gabby walked over to her and sat beside her, taking her hand as they leaned against each other without saying a word.

  Kelso soon joined their duo.

  Delgado’s desk was in front of them, and when the detective came up to them, he opened the bottom drawer and reached for the Maker’s Mark bourbon—the captain’s drink of choice.

  “I know I’m not cliquey with you all, but my man Chen is still under home confinement, and I’m feeling lonely,” the well-dressed Hispanic man said. “And I know Captain would frown at all them long faces, no? He’d prefer it if we gave him a toast. How about it?”

  Gabby and Kelso looked at each other and shrugged almost in unison.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I’m game.”

  “Tomorrow’s the funeral,” Nadia said. “Early. Don’t want to miss that.”

  “Did I say we were getting drunk?” Delgado shot back. “Hey, guys,” he called to the other huddle of officers who had remained after the call. “We’re heading over to Tripp’s to toast the captain, what do you all say?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Cool!”

  “Guess I need to go, too,” Nadia said.

  “It’ll do us good.” Gabby got up from the bench. She hadn’t gone drinking with the guys in a while. Maybe a tumbler or two of bourbon was what she needed. She also needed to keep an eye on Nadia who she knew had a low tolerance for alcohol.

  As they filed out of the room, Gabby told Kelso, “I wonder why I didn’t think of this.”

  Her partner gave her a wry smile. “You’ve been in your head too much these past few days. You and the captain were closest to the Ortega case.”

  Gabby gave a shake of her head. “You should have shaken some sense into me.”

  “I would have. Except I think someone else has that job right now.”

  She looked away. Gabby had been a bit distant to the men in her life in the two days following the captain’s passing. Levi, Declan, and even Theo had steered clear of her as she roamed the house like a lost soul, although she was aware of t
heir eyes on her.

  Time to remedy that and join the land of the living. After the captain’s funeral tomorrow, they needed to get back to their cases. Gabby wasn’t giving up on finding Claudette.

  Her former stepmother had a lot to answer for.

  Declan checked the time on his watch. It was almost one in the morning. He couldn’t count the many times he’d gotten up and paced the living room with the urge to call Gabby.

  Levi was playing video games with Theo, but he was sure they’d noticed his unease.

  Gabby had withdrawn from everyone since Captain Mitchell died. She and Kelso were closest to the Mitchell family, and they’d been allowed into the room after the area around the bed had been contained with a plastic bio-sealant. Vanessa couldn’t even hold her husband’s hand as he took his final breath.

  Even as a hardened mercenary, Declan couldn’t comprehend the depth of this tragedy. His interaction with Vanessa had been limited, but it was clear that she and the captain had a good marriage. Thank god their sons arrived in time to support their mother. When they left the room, Vanessa and Gabby were like ghosts, the men—tight-lipped, faces etched in unfathomable grief.

  Gabby shut down, her answers monotone, so Declan gave her space. When they arrived at the house, Theo asked how Mitchell was and all she answered was …

  He didn’t make it.

  Then she announced she was tired and disappeared into her room. The door closed and locked. At that time Declan regretted fixing the door the day after he broke it. Not that it would have made a difference. She deserved her moment to grieve for the man who’d been like a father to her.

  He glanced at the text she sent at nine that evening. Having a drink with the guys. Don’t know when I’ll be home.

  The funeral was tomorrow. Declan knew she had to be with her department and he understood that. As a soldier, nothing hit harder than the loss of a brother. The shared grief with the surviving team, shooting the shit and remembering the good times were a way of moving on, getting unstuck from the cycle of grief.

  This end-of-watch ritual would be hard on everyone.

  Declan convinced himself that seeing Gabby through this difficult time would strengthen their relationship. Still, he couldn’t help the angst that took hold when she wasn’t within his sight. An issue he was trying to ignore.

  “Dammit!” Theo yelled. “I’m dead. You win.”

  His partner’s chuckle followed another disgruntled groan from the teen. Declan wasn’t much of a gamer; he was damned glad that Levi was.

  “It’s past one, you should go to bed,” Levi told the teenager. “The call sheet says you’re due on the set at nine.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I need my beauty rest,” Theo said as he stood and stretched, but headed in Declan’s direction instead of toward his room.

  Levi announced he was turning in and disappeared to his side of the house.

  “Worried about Gabby?” Theo asked.

  “Not necessarily a worry, more like a concern.”

  “It’s tough being a cop. Tougher being related to one.”

  Declan glanced sharply at his son.

  Theo hitched his shoulders. “They say it all the time on TV. It’s harder on the loved ones wondering if their cop is safe.”

  It was uncanny how Theo had zeroed in on the thing that was bothering him.

  “You’re tougher than most men I know,” the teen continued. “Certainly more than Nick and I love that guy.” The teen’s eyes widened as if realizing the insensitivity of his words, but his mouth turned up in a half grin. “No offense, but he’s been like my second dad.”

  “Sometimes.” Declan exhaled through his nose because what Theo said hit the bullseye—straight through his fucking heart and then some. “You need a helluva filter on that mouth. I will never, in any goddamned dimension of this universe, be like Nick.”

  “Yeah, just calling it as it is.”

  “Kid, you’re too young to call it as it is,” he said. “Stop trying to act older than you are. There are a lot of things you don’t know—”

  “I know this,” Theo cut him off. “I know you may be the best man for Gabby after all.”

  He stilled. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you right.”

  Theo laughed. “All I’m saying is it takes a strong-minded man to handle my sister. I can see why you got together in the first place … sparks and all. But can you handle her being a cop? The risks? She’ll always be my sister no matter what, and I’ll worry about her for an eternity, but you? You can walk away now.”

  “Now, not later?” Declan asked, curious with his phrasing.

  “Before it goes any further. Before one of you gets hurt.”

  “I’m not going to hurt Gabby. Not this time.”

  “I’m also thinking about you, Roarke,” Theo said. “What if she was the one infected and not the captain?”

  “Jesus.” He scraped his face with a hand. The thought did occur to him. He’d had nightmares about it the other night. Gabby with tubes going through her, keeping her alive, blood pouring from her eyes and nose. “I get the risks, bud. I’ve lived the risks before, worked side-by-side with men and women who had loved ones back home.”

  Theo nodded, seemingly satisfied. “You waiting up for her?”

  “Yeah. Go to bed. You need your beauty sleep.”

  His son snorted and clamped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

  He’d just received comfort and a heart-to-heart from a teenager. Theo had probably experienced more meaningful relationships than he had, judging from how smitten he was with Emma, although his son tried to act all cool and shit. He chuckled at the thought.

  Declan only had Gabby. Had fallen in deep and wanted to marry her despite their vastly different social statuses.

  A sound of a vehicle came rumbling down the driveway. The tension in his muscles loosened as he walked to the window to take a peek, recognizing the sound of Gabby’s vehicle pulling in, wondering if someone else had driven her home. He knew she wouldn’t be idiotic enough to get behind the wheel under the influence. The engine cut off and she exited the Pilot and gingerly closed the SUV’s door as if mindful it was early in the morning.

  Gabby approached under the glow of the porch lights, her steps dragging, but in no way straddling the drunk line.

  She had her key in hand but, before she could notch it into the keyhole, Declan opened the door.

  Her face registered surprise, but there was gladness in it too, and that settled him a bit. “You didn’t have to wait up for me.”

  Declan stepped aside to let her in and closed the door.

  “How did it go?” He followed her into the kitchen where she retrieved a glass and filled it with water.

  “Hard.” She leaned against the countertop and took a sip of water as if contemplating the question further “But it was good.” She nodded effusively, her mouth set in determination. “We talked about the good times, our favorite Frank Mitchell moments.”

  “What was yours?” Declan asked while he took his place beside her.

  “Oh, several,” she said. “The time he called me an idiot when I was a patrol officer and messed up his crime scene. I wanted to slink away then and quit.”

  “You were a rookie?”

  “Rookie or not, you learn fast enough under Mitchell.”

  “Tough love?”

  “Oh yeah, but he was fair and he had your back no matter what.”

  Declan waited for her to elaborate. She took another sip and continued, “Officer-involved shootings. Those are always tough, often scrutinized by the rat department.”

  “As in Internal Affairs?”

  “Yes. In my fifteen years as a cop, there’ve always been bad apples in that division. Don’t get me wrong, majority of them are just doing their job—checks and balances and all. But sometimes there are those who are out for revenge.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “IA is always hated. I’d rather quit than have to join them.” She gla
nced at him. “Your involvement in the raid might still be investigated, you know.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Declan assured her.

  “Garrison handled it?”

  “He did.”

  “Good.” Gabby pushed away from the countertop and lowered her glass. “Guess I’ll turn in.” She started to walk away.

  “Gabby …” He clasped her arm, stopping her.

  She didn’t look at him, keeping her head bowed, but he could feel the need rolling off her. She needed something from him. In what capacity, he wasn’t sure, but what he was sure about was he couldn’t leave her alone. Not tonight.

  “Gabby,” he repeated.

  She raised her eyes and the raw agony in them tore at his heart.

  “I’m here, Angel.”

  “I can’t stop thinking.” Her voice cracked. “I keep running things through my head if we could have done things differently. If I didn’t bring up the clinic—”

  “Angel, I don’t think—”

  “Not my fault?” she said fiercely. “I was the one who put us there. If someone had to die, it should have been me, not him.”

  “Don’t,” Declan said harshly. “Don’t say that. You said Mitchell was all for it and you got Ortega off the streets.”

  “Yes! And Mitchell is dead and Vanessa didn’t even get to hold his hand when he died!” she cried. Wrenching herself out of his hold, she fled from the kitchen. Declan didn’t hesitate. He followed her to her room.

  She didn’t bother closing the door, tossing her messenger bag on a chair, and spun around to face him.

  Fury and grief couldn’t have mixed more acutely on her face.

  “What do you need, Angel? Tell me,” he asked quietly, shutting the door behind him.

  Without saying another word, she stepped up to him, grabbed his jaw and kissed him hard. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, keeping her flush. She bit his bottom lip and he made a sound in the back of his throat as he fervently returned her kisses.

  She pulled back a breadth and whispered, “Make the pain go away.”

  Declan scooped her up in his arms and carried her to bed.