“What if he’s gone when we get there?” she said, her voice a mere whisper. “What if …” Joe pulled her close to him and kissed the top of her head.
“He’ll be okay, Tammy, you’ve got to believe that.” His voice was reassuring, but inside he was praying that she wasn’t right.
Joe managed to get Tammy in the car then and he drove to the hospital. Tammy sat like a stone, staring absently out the front window, but not seeing anything. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, and when Joe reached over to touch them, they felt ice cold. He wondered if she was going into shock. Again, he prayed that Spider would be okay. He knew that the two of them were very much in love and that to lose Spider now, would kill Tammy.
When they got to the hospital, Joe again put his arm around Tammy, ushering her into the emergency room. He spoke with the head nurse at the front station and found out that Spider was in critical condition and was currently in ICU.
“You can’t go in there, though,” the nurse said, her tone alarmed.
“We’re going in there,” Joe said, holding up his badge, and giving the nurse a stony look.
The nurse looked at Joe, and at the woman who was leaning on him. She had been told that Spider was a cop, which wasn’t entirely true, but that’s what Midnight had told the paramedics so they’d work harder on him. She looked at Joe for a moment longer, then nodded and called over to one of the nurses nearby.
“Sandra!” She motioned for the nurse to come closer. “Take these two to ICU room 238.”
“But ICU is restricted …” Sandra started to say, but the head nurse shook her head.
“These are police officers, Sandra, just take them.”
“Thank you,” Joe said.
She nodded, giving Tammy a sympathetic look.
When they walked into ICU, Tammy leaned even more heavily on Joe. Spider was lying in a bed, with tubes everywhere and an oxygen mask over his face. He looked awful. Joe closed his eyes, trying to keep it together for Tammy’s sake. He hated hospitals anyway but coming to see a friend who was obviously in such bad shape, made it even worse.
Joe moved Tammy to a chair next to the bed. She sat down, her eyes overflowing with tears. Joe knelt down next to her. She turned to him, putting her head on his shoulder and just cried. Joe held her stroking her hair. He knew there was nothing he could say to make her feel better. At least Spider was still alive, but that would be no consolation if he died during the night. After a few minutes, Tammy sat up, wiping at her tears. Then she turned her eyes to the man she loved and took his hand gently. Eventually, Joe sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall.
A couple of hours later, Midnight came into the room. Her eyes went to Spider immediately. She looked at Joe who was still sitting on the floor with his knees up, his arms crossed on top of them, and his head down. Then she looked at Tammy, who was looking up at her, with tears in her eyes again. Without a word, Tammy stood and walked over to Midnight and the two women hugged.
“He’ll be okay, Tammy,” Midnight whispered.
“I hope so,” Tammy said, sobbing.
When they parted, Midnight saw that Joe was awake now. He was looking up at her, trying to determine how she was feeling. Tammy sat back on the chair, taking Spider’s hand in hers again. Midnight sat down next to Joe on the floor. Her elbow nudged him. “You okay?”
“I guess,” Joe answered, “you?” His head nodded to her arm.
“Yeah,” she answered simply. “Everyone else is right outside. How’s he doing?”
“We don’t know yet, the doctor hasn’t been in to talk to us.”
Midnight just nodded.
About twenty minutes later, the doctor finally came in and he was very surprised to see them sitting there. “No one is supposed to be in here,” he began to say, but both Joe and Midnight held up their badges as they stood.
“Well this is highly irregular,” the doctor said, as if it was a personal affront to him.
“Yeah, we know all that,” Joe said, his voice authoritative.
“What we want to know is how Spider is,” Midnight said, her voice equally so.
“Well,” the doctor said, looking happier to be talking about a subject he excelled in, “he is in critical condition, but he was very lucky the bullet didn’t do a lot of damage. The entry point was in the abdomen, and it exited through his back. Fortunately, it missed his spinal cord, so given time, he should heal just fine.”
Joe, Midnight, and Tammy all breathed a sigh of relief. Joe put his arm around Midnight, hugging her close to him.
“Thank you, doctor,” Midnight said, tears in her eyes. Then she turned to Joe. “I’ll go let everyone know. Dibbs is going nuts with guilt.”
“He should be,” a voice said then. Midnight turned to see Spider looking at her, grinning weakly.
“Spider!” all three shouted together. Tammy who stood closest to him leaned down, kissing him on the cheek, her own cheeks wet with fresh tears.
Midnight and Joe stood back smiling down at Spider.
“What?” Spider said, his voice quiet, but strong. “You think some little bullet’s going to stop me?”
They all laughed. Midnight left the room to tell the others the good news. A cheer went up from the waiting room prompting many of the hospital staff to stop and see what all the commotion was. The head nurse smiled to herself. She was glad the police officer was going to be okay.
****
Daniel Robbins threw everything that wasn’t nailed down across the room in his fury.
“They’re getting too fucking close!” he yelled to no one in particular.
He began pacing, throwing furious glances at those in the room. Everyone stood by, not saying anything. They all knew that if you pissed Robbins off when he was already mad, you were likely to be dead shortly thereafter.
“We need to do something. We need to do something,” Daniel repeated to himself, his voice low, dangerous. “Fuck!” he yelled, slamming his fist into the face of the nearest unlucky individual.
Tim Bollings watched from the back of the group, shaking inside. This was just getting worse.
****
In the weeks after Spider had been shot, Randy and Joe spent a lot of time together. They’d gone to a couple of movies, out to dinner, and things like antique shopping. They also spent time at Joe’s house watching movies. She even cooked for them a few times.
Randy was very impressed with his home. It was a mansion to her. Although it certainly wasn’t the most opulent home on the La Jolla shore, it was still huge compared to where Randy lived. The interior was beautiful, with cathedral ceilings, and beautiful tile or wood floors. The furnishings were expensive, but understated. They seemed very much like Joe, sophisticated but unpretentious. He could speak on just about any topic, but also on any level. And they talked endlessly.
Randy found that Joe had a very easy way about him, even when he disagreed with something she said. There was no arrogance in the way that he carried himself. It was something she’d tried time and time again to explain to Darrell. Darrell assumed that since Joe had money, that he was arrogant and just took whatever he wanted. It showed Randy how easy it was to make assumptions about people. She still didn’t feel that she knew Joe, or much about his family and the events surrounding his parents death. He kept that to himself. It was her hope that someday he’d be willing to share that part with her.
One Saturday evening they were lying on his couch watching a movie. They’d spent the day out at the beach in La Jolla. They’d walked through the small upscale town perusing shops, then had dinner at a local pizza place. It had been a really nice day, starting at eight that morning when he’d picked her up, and ending at his house watching movies.
They’d both fallen asleep on the couch, with Joe behind her on his side, his arm under her neck, pillowing her head. The ringing of Joe’s cell phone, tossed casually next to his keys and sunglasses on the coffee table, woke them. Joe reached groggily for his phone making a g
rowling noise in the back of his throat.
“What?” he answered shortly as Randy stirred and glanced up at him.
Joe quirked his lips at her, but his grin froze as the person on the other end spoke up. Then he rolled his eyes, looking annoyed immediately.
“No, Taylor, that’s not how I usually answer the phone,” he said, his tone reflecting his annoyance, “but it’s”—he glanced at his watch—“ten past twelve and I was asleep, so you’ll have to forgive my breech of phone etiquette.”
He listened to the other person for a few moments, glancing at Randy again and seeing her watching him. “You’re what?” he asked in disbelief. He began shaking his head, rolling his eyes again. “Okay, but don’t you think you’d be more comfortable at a hotel?” he asked. “I’m a cop Taylor, I get in at all different hours of the night,” he said. Finally, he sighed loudly. “Fine,” he said, his tone resigned, “let me know when you have your flight information.”
After a few more moments he hung up, looking very displeased as he tossed the phone back onto the coffee table.
Randy watched him, unsure if she should ask who was on the phone. She didn’t have to.
“That was Taylor,” Joe said, gesturing to the phone, “my aunt.”
Randy nodded. “You didn’t sound really happy to talk to her.”
“That’s because every time I talk to her she makes sure I know how she feels about the direction of my life,” he said, his tone disgusted.
“What’s wrong with the direction of your life?” Randy asked, sensing this was an important point.
“Well, it’s not what my aunt sees as appropriate.”
“Appropriate?”
“Yeah,” Joe said, his lips curling in derision, “for someone of my station.”
Randy’s brows furrowed. “What does she think you should be doing?”
“She thinks I should be married to some vacuous socialite, have a couple of uptight, over-indulged kids, and be running my father’s company.”
Randy pressed her lips together, tilting her head up at him. “So she doesn’t like you being a police officer?”
Joe laughed wryly. “She despises the idea, says it’s too blue collar.”
Randy took a deep breath, debating whether or not to question him further. She could tell that the call from his aunt had riled him a bit. It was difficult to know if by asking questions she’d be helping, or only irritating him further. Finally, she decided to chance it.
“Do you think your parents would want you to live that life? Like your aunt wants?”
Joe curled his lips in dismay. “Well, before they died, they’d arranged for me to marry the daughter of one of their society friends.”
“Really?” Randy asked, her eyes wide.
Joe nodded. “Yeah, it was all set to happen after my twenty-first birthday. My father was even going to change his will so that if I didn’t marry her, I’d get nothing from his estate.”
Randy was shocked, she didn’t think people still arranged marriages like that, at least not in places like England.
“Did you even know this girl?”
“Yeah,” Joe said, shrugging, “we grew up in the same circles.”
“But, did you love her?”
Joe laughed; the sound was hollow. “It wasn’t about love, Randy, it was about settling me down.”
“Your parents were trying to settle you down,” Randy said.
“Right,” he said. “I was running with the gang, coming in when I wanted to, or not at all. Getting drunk, getting into fights, sleeping my way through town,” he said, shrugging again. “My father said it was the only way they felt they could save me from myself.”
****
The house Joe grew up in was a Tudor-style mansion, sitting on 120 acres of land. Inside was his father’s study, a place Joe knew he would end up when he’d once again disappointed his parents. This night was much the same as many others. On this occasion, Joseph Senior cornered Joe coming in, with a fresh cut on his face from the evening’s fight. Joseph beckoned to his son, gesturing toward the study. Joe followed resolutely; he knew he was in for one of those talks again.
“You keep doing that,” his father said gesturing to the cut, “and the girls won’t be interested for long.” His smile was genuine and Joe found himself smiling back at him
“Yeah, Dad I know,” Joe answered his father, sitting down in a comfortable chair and swinging his long legs up on the coffee table.
His father sat on the couch across from him. He was looking at Joe intently, searching his eyes as if to find the reason for his son’s rebellion.
“What’s goin’ on dad?” Joe asked, not liking the look his father was giving him, feeling like he had screwed up again. But Joseph was shaking his head.
“There’s nothing going on, Joe, I just wanted to talk. How are you?”
“Fine,” Joe answered shortly, hoping to end this talk quickly. He was rather tired, but he could see that his dad was expecting more of an answer. “I’ve been just hangin’ around, ya know same ole thing.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s part of the problem …” Joseph said, more to himself than to Joe, but Joe heard him.
“Dad,” Joe began, the words coming out harsher than he wanted. He took a deep breath to try to reign in his anger. “Don’t start in on my friends again.”
Joseph waved his hand. “Joe it’s my responsibility to look after you, and I can’t do that with you out and gone all the time … Your mum worries herself half to death about you. And here you come dragging in here at this hour with yet another mark on your face, that she’ll worry over for hours … What am I supposed to do? Ignore it? Pretend like I don’t see? Well I do see it and I don’t like it.” Joseph’s voice was raised by the time he finished, and his eyes, much like Joe’s were flashing at his son in anger.
Joe sat with his arms petulantly crossed in front of his chest listening. He waited a full minute before answering his father. He waited until he was calmer, he hated it when his dad got on this subject. The way Joe saw it, he could be out getting socialites pregnant and getting high all the time, but instead he only drank and got into fights, and only with other gang members. It wasn’t like he fought with members of the royal family for God’s sake.
“So, what do you want me to do?” Joe asked calmly. “You’ve already planned my life for me starting in four months, what else do you want from me?” Joe’s voice became strident on the last part, as his anger began to ignite at the thought of what his life would become in four short months.
“Joe,” Joseph began again, his voice softer now, “we love you, we just don’t want to see you hurt. How are you and Roslynn getting along by the by?”
Joe smiled a fake ‘I’ll make it all better’ smile. “Just grand, Dad, we’ve been shoved together for the purpose of a betrothal and we’re just as happy as we can be. What do you expect?”
“Well, I would expect that the two of you would be trying to get to know each other. From what I understand, Roslynn is very lovely, and quite the lady too.” Joseph Senior’s eyes pleaded with his son to understand.
“Yeah, Dad, I know,” Joe said, not sounding convinced in the slightest. He could tell his father a thing or two about sweet little ladylike Roslynn, but he figured now was not the time or the place.
****
“But you never married her,” Randy said.
“No, my parents died, three months before my twenty-first birthday,” Joe said, his tone sedate.
Randy bit her lip, unsure what to say.
“So when is your aunt coming?” she asked after a little while.
“Next week,” Joe said. “On top of that, she refuses to stay at a hotel, she wants to stay here.”
“And you don’t want that,” Randy said.
“I’d rather shoot myself in the foot with my own gun than that,” Joe qualified with a grin.
Randy laughed softly.
****
It took a while for Midnight to go
through all the paperwork and evidence after Spider had been shot. They had found some interesting things in the house including numerous automatic weapons and all kinds of measuring and cutting instruments used for drug sales. The members of the Scorpions who had lived through the shoot-out were still being held. The team was still hoping to find out who the leader of the Scorpions was. Midnight had run all of them through CLETS and she noticed that a pattern was emerging. A good 80 percent of the Scorpions had done time in San Quentin. Midnight was developing a theory that they had formed their alliance there and as they got out, they made their way to San Diego to join the gang. So it was a logical place to start looking for their leader. She had put the word out to all of her Confidential Informants that she wanted to find out who people like Robert Bondy, who had been incarcerated at San Quentin for robbery, had been connected with while inside. It was just a matter waiting and seeing now.
Standing and stretching Midnight looked at her watch; it was after seven o’clock at night again. She hadn’t left the office before nine for the last week. She pulled her jacket off the back of her chair and walked out of her office, noticing that Rick was still there. She walked over to his desk. He glanced up at her, a pencil in his mouth; he was reading some of the CLETS runs he had just done.
“Careful,” Midnight said, smiling down at him, “that’ll give you lead poisoning.”
Removing the pencil from his mouth, he returned her smile. “No, I think I’d have to eat the whole pencil for that.”
Midnight laughed. “Well don’t do that either then.”
“You headed home?” Rick asked noticing her jacket over her arm.
“Yeah,” she said, sighing lustily, “my cats are probably starting to think I moved and forgot to tell them.”
Rick nodded and smiled. “Okay then, be careful out there in the dark alone.”
“Oh I have my friend Beretta to take care of me,” she said, motioning to the gun at her back. “Bye,” she said then, heading for the elevators.
Once out in her car Midnight turned on the radio and started the car. Singing absently to whatever song was on the radio she pulled out of the parking lot. She didn’t notice the car that pulled out behind her.
Building Empires (MidKnight Blue Book 1) Page 16