by Robena Grant
“Not like this, you don’t,” Stanton said, waving his beefy arms around. “You’re pale as Casper. And you’re still weak. Stay still. Rest for the night. I’ll pick you up in the morning, when they release you. I’ll even drive you down to see her.”
Michael clenched his jaw against his annoyance. He needed to take some action. Now. He couldn’t let Rachel sweat it out in a holding cell.
The nurse came into the room. “What can I get for you, Michael?” she asked, and walked around behind Stanton to check the intravenous.
“He needs more sedation,” Stanton said gruffly, standing up, and moving his chair back. “Thinks he’s gonna’ get out of here now, and then go rescue his girlfriend.”
“That would not be wise,” the nurse said, and scowled at Michael. “You need to rest.”
“See, that’s what I told him.”
“I wasn’t planning to leave against medical advice,” Michael said. His father would never forgive him for that. “I—”
He broke off his explanation because he was so damn pissed at Rachel. He’d trusted her to stay put. He’d believed she’d finally understood the situation. He’d prided himself on the fact that Reckless Rachel had become wiser through knowing and working with him. So, it wasn’t so much about rescuing her as wringing her neck. Before Michael got to explain, the nurse administered another dose of morphine.
“Wait, wait a minute,” he said, his voice already sounding a little bit off to his ears. Did his words slur? Mad as he felt, he couldn’t let her suffer. “Stanton, call the chief, my chief. Tell him…everything…you’re on this case, remember…working together…clear Rachel…”
Michael’s eyelids got heavy, like they had lead weights on them. He tried to stretch his eyes wide, and finally gave up. The medicated sleep overtook him.
Chapter Twenty-One
While the cops in Brawley believed their story, they’d had to cover themselves and go by the book. An hour before their release, Jack Fischer had turned up with Debbie, and they had posted bail for Manuel.
“Thank goodness you were home,” Rachel said, moisture filling her eyes as she clung to Debbie, hugging her tight. “Where’s Ralph?”
“He’s in the car, sleeping on the back seat,” Jack said. “It’s going to be okay.”
She nodded and tried not to cry. No way would she ask about Michael. Besides, neither Jack nor Debbie knew how involved they’d become in this past week. She’d held her tears in for so long, through the drive to the PD. Not knowing where they’d taken Michael, or what had happened to him. But the fact that he hadn’t found her said so much. Through all of the questions, and now, when she should be relieved and happy, she blubbered like a baby. She swiped at her face. Why was it that she cried the most when she received tenderness and love from her friends? Someone could be mean, angry, could insult or hurt her, and she wouldn’t shed a tear.
“The bail is only a temporary requirement. You’ll both be fine,” Jack said. “The chief from the Indio PD has backed up your story. They questioned me, and even Debbie. We had to let them know why we were also on the case.”
“What? Why were you working this case?” Rachel swiped at her cheeks. She took the wad of tissues that Debbie held out to her and blotted her eyes. She must look like hell.
“The Suarez cartel—or what was left of them—were after me. Rumor had it that a hit was imminent. That’s why I’d set up surveillance. The only problem was they kept moving location. I had a reliable informant.”
She nodded again. “Mantis?”
“You mean Fernando?”
“Yes.” She shook her head slowly. “Man, he sure gets around. Where is Manuel’s car?”
“Impounded. Evidence,” Jack said, and shrugged. “But they’ll probably release that in a day or so. I’ll drive you back down to get it, Manuel.”
Rachel pulled in a deep breath. She needed to know, but hated to ask. She straightened her shoulders, and tried to sound casual. “Detective Delaney, Stanton, and Mantis…?”
“All made it.”
Dizzy with relief, Rachel smiled and gripped the top of the counter in the Brawley PD outer office for support. A cop handed Manuel some papers, probably to do with his car. She heard a murmur of conversation, but had to sit down. She plopped onto a hard seat, as the even harder, and colder, facts hit home.
Michael is okay. So why hadn’t he found her? Why hadn’t he come to her rescue? She chewed at her bottom lip. A voice in her head said it all loud and clear, because work was more important to him. The case was over, and she was of no further use. She shouldered her bag and stood. She wouldn’t shed a tear.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said. “I left some stuff at Fred’s place in Desert Scapes. Can you stop there?”
“Sure thing,” Jack said, and slung an arm around her shoulder.
Debbie walked close to her on the other side, and Manuel walked quietly behind them.
It had been quite a day. There’d be a lot more questions asked, that’s for sure. And the cops had to see if bullets from Manuel’s gun had killed or injured anyone. She prayed he’d been a really bad shot, because she wasn’t certain how that would all play out. He hadn’t been sure if he’d hit anyone, although he had admitted to firing at the gang members.
****
When Michael woke up around 10pm, to the sound of the phone ringing, he grabbed for the handset with haste, almost dropping the damn thing. Maybe it was Rachel, or news about her. He readied himself for an argument. Not willing to let her off the hook.
“Mom,” he said, and winced at the blubbering over the line. There was nothing he could stuff into his ears, so he’d have to listen.
“I heard from your chief,” she finally said. “Daddy and I will come out—”
“No,” Michael said. “I’m fine, and we’ll see each other at Christmas. They’re letting me go home tomorrow.”
“But you were shot. It was even on the news here,” she said and started to cry again. “I knew one day I’d get…I’d get a…get a call like this, and—”
“Put Dad on,” Michael said. He filled his father in on a few of the details of his surgery, cop to doctor.
“I’m proud of you, son,” his father said gruffly. “We both are. Here’s your mother.”
“Thanks, Dad.” That was a first. Miracles were happening everywhere. “Mom, I’m fine. Honest. And yes, I do have my arm in a sling.” He listened to her motherly and helpful nursing advice. “Those are some good ideas. I hadn’t gotten as far as thinking about the shower.”
“See. That’s why you’ll need me. You need a woman around to help.”
He knew who he’d want in his bathroom, and who he’d allow to soap up his back. “My girlfriend will help me.”
“You’ve got a girlfriend?”
His mother’s voice was filled with awe. He’d never admitted to having a girlfriend before. They’d given up on him long ago. “Ah, yeah,” he said, and tried to ignore the dull ache in his arm. He reached over and pressed the morphine pump.
“Well, tell me all about her. How did you meet? What’s her name? Where does she come from?”
“Honey, give the guy a chance to get well,” Michael heard his father call out.
Maybe if Rachel did show up…maybe, just maybe they could have a future.
“Her name is Rachel. You’ll meet her when you come out for the holidays. But listen, I’m kind of tired, and the nurse needs to change the dressing. I love you, Mom. Give Dad a hug. I’ll call you guys tomorrow morning.”
Everything would be ironed out tomorrow. His eyelids got droopy and he turned onto his good side and dozed off, thinking about his parents’ relationship. How they balanced each other. How one gleaned the information needed, the other was strong and silent. Both had medical training, although his mother had retired from nursing years ago. They were both capable in any emergency, devoted, and loyal to each other.
What he’d once viewed as a boring existence, seemed, in his medica
ted state, to hold more than a touch of comfort. He wondered what it would be like to have a woman in his life who knew as much about him as his mother knew of his father.
****
The next morning at Fred’s bar, Rachel waited while Fred took a private phone call and beckoned his wife to come into their bedroom. “Family stuff,” he said to Rachel, Jack, and Debbie. “Take a seat. Won’t be a minute.”
Manuel had already gotten a lift back to Indio. He wanted to get to Cliffs and supervise the day. Rachel had said to close it up and take the day off, but he’d insisted. On the drive back from the PD she’d explained about the destruction of Henry’s cabin, and the disruption at her own house, and Jack hadn’t been at all surprised. She wondered how much of this terror of the past couple of days he’d known about, and exactly when he’d intended to give Michael a hand.
“You could have helped us earlier, you know,” she said, glaring at him.
“I couldn’t.” Jack stretched out his long legs and took a swig of coffee. “I worked with an undercover FBI agent. I couldn’t risk exposing him. Besides, every guy in the business knows you don’t mess with Detective Michael Baxter Delaney.”
Undercover agents. Sheesh.
And fancy them both working with Mantis. A little light bulb winked at her. Mantis was an undercover agent. FBI? How about that? She almost grinned, but she’d say nothing. She’d liked Mantis, and would never blow his cover. Look what had happened to Jack. She guessed in their line of work someone would always look for revenge.
“Are you sure you didn’t see Grandpa? Think about everything again. I mean was there any evidence that he was with those men?” She needed to know if he was dead or alive. He could have been shot by either side. A poor little old man caught in the crossfire.
Jack pressed his lips tight, and shook his head. “I haven’t seen him since that morning near the bait shop, when he warned me to stay away. I wish I could say I had.”
Debbie sat beside her, patting her knee, eyes glistening, lips pressed tight. Fred got up and made another pot of coffee and his wife bustled around the kitchen.
“The trunk,” Rachel whispered.
“I wish I had better news,” Jack said. “But, the entire car was searched. There are still guys out there combing the area looking for other evidence.”
“Okay,” Rachel said, and pulled in a deep breath.
“He was a hell of a guy, your grandfather. To do what he did that morning.”
“I know. Reckless, stupid even, but I suppose that’s a family trait,” Rachel said. “I always thought I got that from my mother.”
“You’re not reckless,” Debbie said. “You’re passionate and loyal.”
That was so like her best friend to stick up for her. “It’s…it’s so hard to think that I’ll never see him again. Or worse, that I’ll never know what happened.”
Jack gave a slow shake of his head. “Sometimes we don’t get closure, Rachel.”
She nodded. “I know.” But she also knew she wouldn’t give up so easily.
Once she could, she’d search for more evidence of what had happened. Mantis’ words floated around in her thoughts: An elderly blindfolded man. Grandpa had to have been there, unless they’d gotten rid of him along the way to Ocotillo flats. That was a wide expanse of desert. Tomorrow, she’d call every police department and every hospital in the bordering counties. She’d done everything possible to find him, or to find out what had happened to him. Except run down that rise and see if he was there. What if he’d been there, on the ground, wounded? Stop it. She shook her head in an effort to dislodge her thoughts. Grandpa had not been there. She would have seen him. She’d watched the whole damn thing.
“So, you want more coffee?” Fred asked. “A shower? Anything?”
“No. I won’t bother. I think I’ll shower and change clothes at Grandpa’s. If I can find any…and if the shower is still standing…” she said, her voice petering out. “I need to salvage a few things. Manuel will come and get me later on.”
Fred walked past her, and he gave her shoulder a quick clasp. “You need a ride?”
“We can drop you off. We need to get going anyway,” Jack said.
“No, a walk will be great. Right Ralph?” She looked at the little fluff ball still curled up on the sofa, slapped at her leg, and forced a cheerfulness she didn’t really feel into her voice. “Let’s go, boy.”
Twenty minutes later Rachel walked along the beach. Ralph raced in circles, yapping at the wild fowl. A couple of vehicles pulled up along the road and parked near the old bait shop. Her heart almost stopped. She grabbed Ralph and sank to the sand. She’d thought it was all over. Across the small stretch of sand she could see that one vehicle was a cop car. The other one she didn’t recognize. What on earth was going on? She put her hand over Ralph’s mouth.
“Quiet, baby. No bark.”
She squinted in the noon day sun. Then she remembered Jack saying he’d see if the cops would seal that building off, as a crime scene. He’d kept his word. A thin old man, with a slight limp, crossed the road between bait shop and beach, and seemed to walk straight toward her. She swallowed hard, tried to calm herself, and squinted even harder.
Then something became familiar. She couldn’t quite say what, a flutter of a hand raised in a wave, the shape of the head, or neck, or the wisps of gray hair blowing in the wind, but all of a sudden she let go of Ralph and ran.
“Grandpa!” she screamed.
Ralph barked and barked, and kept pace beside her as they ran. She ran, stumbling, hot tears falling like a summer storm, and her body, half-falling, rising again, and with Ralph flying ahead of her, tail wagging and yapping, until she finally reached Grandpa Henry.
She held his face in her hands, and through her tears, absorbed every feature on his fine old face. And then she pulled his frail body to her, and buried her wet face into his shoulder. He felt so thin she could feel the sharpness of his shoulder blades. What had they done to him? She tried to move back to ask him but he held her tight and patted her back.
“There, there,” he said. “There, there.”
She cried even harder because he consoled her. She didn’t even try to brush at her eyes. She wasn’t about to let go of him for anything. “I thought you were dead…they said you were…the cops looked for you for over a week.” Then her anger started to rise. “What on earth happened? And why did they hold you hostage? And did they starve you? And they—”
“It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine.”
She pulled away from him and looked up into his pale rheumy eyes, and before she could ask even one more question, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
“I brought you a present.”
A present? That was so like him. Well, she wasn’t going to let him brush off this whole thing with a present. But curiosity got the better of her and she looked beyond his shoulder to the bait shop. Leaning against the black and white stood Dave Stanton. Manuel slid out of the car behind the cop car, walked around the vehicle, and then opened the passenger door.
Michael got out of the car. Rachel pulled in a long rickety breath, and held it for a few seconds. Her heart pounded. He walked down the beach toward her, his arm in a sling, a grin the size of Texas on his face. Her mouth started to tremble. He’d done this. She knew in her heart that Michael had thrown the rule book aside, that he’d taken a hit to save her grandfather.
****
Michael had decided in the early hours of the morning that he wanted Rachel in his life, reckless or not. He held her so tight, and for so long, he wondered if he’d impeded the blood flow to his injured arm. She fussed worse than his mother, and she asked about as many questions too. He knew the two women were going to get along fine.
“How did you know I was here?” she asked.
“I talked with Fred and told him not to say anything. So, what are you doing for Christmas?” he asked, when he’d finally stopped kissing her.
“Christmas?” She looked confus
ed.
“My parents are coming to visit. They want to meet you.”
“Oh?” She scooped up Ralph.
“They don’t believe I have a girlfriend.”
She grinned and her whole face lit up. He’d said the girlfriend word, and for him that was as big as the love, or the marriage word. Could she live with that? Would it be enough? She’d said commitment is hard for her. Uh oh, is she going to cry again?
“Hey, don’t go getting all weepy on me,” Michael said, and smoothed his hand up and down her spine as she gulped in a couple of deep breaths.
He kissed her on the top of her head, still feeling guilty for not having trusted her. He’d learned from both Manuel and Jack the extent of her bravery.
“It won’t be all that bad. My dad is a doctor, my mom is an ex-nurse, and Mom wanted to come here now, but that would have driven me batty. I told her you’d look after me and she was thrilled. I know they’ll love you. I think you’ll like them.”
She blinked rapidly at her tears. “Girlfriend?”
“If you’ll have me.” He knew that Rachel could see the nervousness flitter across his face. This being spontaneous stuff was difficult. “Although,” Michael said. “The folks don’t believe it for a second.”
“Well, we’ll have to prove it to them, won’t we?” she asked, and then rained tear-soaked kisses over his face and neck.
“Yuck,” he said. “It’s like kissing Ralph.” Hearing his name, Ralph barked and got in on the act, licking Michael up the side of his face. Rachel laughed, and swiped at her eyes again.
Michael stepped back. He held her shoulders and peered into her eyes. “Look I need to apologize. I thought you’d acted recklessly last night. I was pissed at first.”
She laughed and cried at the same time.
“Seriously. You don’t know how hard this is for me. I don’t apologize well. But I was wrong. You are not reckless. And I’m so sorry for not believing in you for every damn second.”
“It’s okay. I felt bad for being so cold to you,” Rachel said, and then she pulled him to her and kissed him. Hard. “Let’s vow to trust each other from here on out. I love you, Michael.”