“Drop the gun lady!”
Midnight’s head came up and she looked at them blankly, tears still streaming from her eyes. One of the officers recognized her and held up his hand to the other officer. “It’s okay, she’s a cop.” He walked over to her then. “Are you okay, Lieutenant?” he asked. She nodded.
The paramedics arrived and moved to Tim’s limp body. The police officer helped Midnight stand, but she shrugged off his hands. Her jeans were bloody, as was her right hand, but she didn’t notice. She stood by while the paramedics tried to revive Tim. Her eyes grew more and more distant. The officers didn’t notice that when she walked out she was still holding her gun in her hand. They also didn’t see just how devastated she was.
She drove back to her house with her gun resting in her lap. In a haze she locked her front door and activated the alarm. She still held her gun. She opened her bedroom window, letting the cold wind blow in. After a few minutes, she moved back into her room and removed her boots and jeans, putting her gun down on her bed in the process. She looked down at the jeans lying on the floor. She looked at the blood, as if not understanding where it had come from. She picked up her gun again, as if it were a security blanket and lay down in the center of the bed. She curled into a ball, her arms crossed in front of her, the gun cradled against her breasts. She lay there staring off into space.
Chapter 10
Rick got a phone call from the duty sergeant telling him the FORS’s Lieutenant had called in a black and white, and then subsequently an ambulance. Rick got the address from the sergeant and all but ran to his car. It had been two hours since she had left the office; she hadn’t said where she was going. Rick got to the apartment and was informed that Tim Bollings was dead, and that Lieutenant Chevalier had been the one to find him. A cold fear gripped Rick that only deepened when the officer said that she had wandered out of the apartment and driven away without saying a word to anyone.
Rick ran down to his car and sped off toward Midnight’s house. When he got there, he pounded on the door, but no one answered. Her car was in the driveway so he knew she was there. He tried the door, but it was locked. He jumped the fence and tried her back door, but it was locked tight too. He went back to his car and radioed for any black and whites in the area. Two police cars arrived a few minutes later. They all tried the door, and even attempted kicking it open, but to no avail. Midnight’s security system included a solid steel door making “breaking in” impossible. All of her windows were barred too. Rick went to her bedroom window and looking in, he could see her on the bed. She was curled into a tight ball shivering.
“Midnight!” he yelled, but she didn’t move. He tried a few more times, but she still didn’t answer. He was really worried now. He needed to get in there, before she did something stupid. He had no way of knowing that she cradled her gun against her. It occurred to him then that Joe had a key to her house and knew the access code to her alarm. Rick knew then what he had to do.
Telling the officers to stand by, he ran to his car. He threw the Mustang into reverse and backed out of the driveway. He drove as fast as he possibly could to Joe’s house. To his relief Joe’s car was in the driveway. He jumped out of his car, ran to the front door, and pounded on it. There was no answer. He went around the house and found Joe on the deck. As Rick skidded to a stop on the deck, Joe’s head snapped up.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Joe began to ask angrily.
“Joe, it’s Midnight. We need you,” Rick said, with enough intensity to make Joe jump to his feet.
“What happened?” Joe asked, his concern for Midnight, far outweighing any antipathy he had fostered for Rick.
“Tim Bollings was killed, Midnight found him …” Rick’s voice trailed off as Joe started to move toward him.
“Oh, Jesus,” Joe said worriedly. “Where is she now?”
“At her house. She won’t answer the door, Joe.”
“Well she doesn’t have to,” Joe said, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “Come on.” They both walked in long hurried strides to Rick’s car. They drove down to Midnight’s house in silence, both men tense and worried.
When they got to Midnight’s house, the police were still waiting, but had made no progress at opening the front door. Joe motioned them aside, as he pulled out his keys. As he turned the key in the lock, the dead bolt slid back easily. Then he unlocked the other lock, and turned the knob. The chain was on the door too so he stood back and kicked the door open. He walked in, stopping at the alarm to deactivate it. Rick brushed straight past him and headed down the hallway to Midnight’s room. Her back was to the door, so he moved to the other side of the bed, and knelt down beside it. That’s when he saw the gun and her finger firmly on the trigger.
“Oh, God,” Rick said, closing his eyes.
“What?” Joe asked, entering the room.
He walked around to where Rick stood. His eyes went to the gun gripped in Midnight’s small hands. Her eyes were closed and her whole body was shaking.
“Let me handle this,” Joe said, looking at Rick.
Rick nodded numbly, too afraid for Midnight to take offense to Joe taking over. Joe lay down on the bed next to Midnight.
He looked down at her, reaching out to gently touch her cheek. “Midnight.” His voice was soft.
She opened her eyes to look up at him. Her eyes registered no emotion.
“Babe, give me the gun,” Joe said, his voice still soft, but she shook her head, her eyes growing wary of him. “Come on, Night just give me the gun,” he said again, his eyes searching hers.
He knew he was putting himself in a dangerous position, especially with what had happened between them. He knew in the emotional state she was in and she could easily turn the gun on him. But he was willing to take that risk, to keep her from hurting herself. He saw her hand tighten on the gun, and he held his breath. Her eyes were still looking at him, they were narrowed, as if suspicious of his motives. It tore at his heart to see that look in her eyes. He wondered if she was considering shooting him.
“Midnight,” Rick said, looking down at her, “give Joe the gun.”
Midnight’s gaze shifted to Rick and her eyes misted with tears. She looked back at Joe then, and he could see her trying work through all of the emotions she was feeling.
“Come on, Night, just give me the gun, we’ll get through this, I promise,” Joe said, reaching for the gun. She pulled back, tightening her grip on it again, her eyes narrowing again. “Okay,” Joe said, shaking his head. Then he pinned her with a serious look. “Then shoot me.” Her eyes widened at his words. “You heard me right,” Joe said, pointing to his chest, “shoot me, I deserve it, for what I did to you.” His eyes misted with tears then. “Just don’t hurt yourself, baby, please.”
Midnight closed her eyes, tears starting to run down her cheeks. In what seemed like slow motion, she turned the gun toward him. Both Rick and Joe held their breath, then, opening her eyes, she extended it to Joe and took her finger off the trigger. Joe took it, his eyes not leaving hers, and slowly moved his hand to his back so Rick could take it from him. Joe reached out and pulled Midnight into his arms. She was crying now, hysterically. Her hand gripped the front of his shirt tightly. Her whole body was shaking from the sobs. Joe held her, stroking her hair, tears of his own running down his face.
“He’s dead, Joe,” Midnight said, her voice broken, and hysterical.
“I know, I know,” Joe said, squeezing her tighter. The tone of her voice scared him.
He knew she was on the edge and if he didn’t handle this just right, they could lose her.
“I hate this job,” she sobbed, her hand tightening on his shirt. “I hate these people. I don’t want to do this anymore.” She sounded defeated and hoarse.
“It’s okay, baby,” Joe said, still stroking her hair. “We’ll get through this, it’s okay.”
“They killed him, Joe, the bastards killed him.”
“I know, baby, and we’ll get them,
we will,” Joe said, sounding determined.
“I can’t do this. I can’t do this,” she said, shaking her head. “Not again.” Her voice was a harsh whisper.
“You aren’t alone this time, baby. I’m here, Rick’s here, we’ll get you through this.”
She nodded, still crying. Joe looked up at Rick and they both realized that all of the fighting and anger of the past week was over. The harsh words, the anger, the wounds, were all forgiven and forgotten as they both prayed for Midnight to be okay. Rick left the room and called for a doctor. When the doctor arrived, Rick explained the situation to him. The doctor indicated that a sedative would help to keep Midnight from trying to hurt herself. Rick gestured to Midnight’s bedroom. Joe still lay on the bed, with Midnight in his arms; she was still shaking and a crying. Joe looked at the doctor and nodded to him. When the doctor touched Midnight’s hand, she pulled it away, looking suspiciously up at him.
“It’s okay,” Joe said, tightening his arms around her again. “He’s just going to give you something to calm you down, he won’t hurt you.”
She looked up at him and shook her head, becoming in moments a little girl trying to avoid a sharp needle stick.
“It’s okay,” he repeated. His hand touched her under the chin, keeping her focused on him to distract her. “Just look at me, I’m right here. It won’t hurt you.” He nodded imperceptibly and the doctor got the shot ready. Joe continued to talk to her, her eyes shifted to the doctor again as approached her and Joe felt her tense. “Baby,” he said, making her look at him again. “It’s okay, this will make you sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up, okay? I promise.” His voice was sincere.
The doctor stuck the needle in her arm as she nodded, her eyes flickering at the sharp stick. The doctor left and Rick followed him out. He gave Rick a bottle of pills. “They’re sleeping pills; she looks like she’s going to need them.”
Rick went back into the bedroom, watching Joe, as he stroked Midnight’s hair and talked softly to her. He was glad that he had gone to get Joe, he wasn’t sure if she would have responded to him. Joe and Midnight had been friends for so long; he knew her and he’d known exactly what to say. Rick had been very concerned when he had told her to shoot him. He was half-afraid she would. He had been prepared to grab the pistol away if she really looked like she was going to do it. At this close range, she would more than likely have killed Joe, and he couldn’t let that happen no matter what had happened between them. He watched as Midnight drifted off to sleep. Joe looked up at him, and the look they exchanged was one of mutual concern. Rick walked over and stood by the bed.
“I’m going to have to go into the office in the morning, and take care of some arrangements for Tim’s funeral but I don’t want her alone,” Joe said.
“I’ll stay with her,” Rick said, his eyes on her sleeping form.
“Yeah, that’s what I was hoping,” Joe said, his eyes shifting from Rick’s face to Midnight’s.
He could see the depth of Rick’s feelings for Midnight in his friend’s eyes. And in a way, he was glad; he knew that Midnight was going to need as much support as she could get, and maybe Rick would be able to give her what he himself, obviously, could not.
Rick nodded again, his eyes still on Midnight. Rick and Joe spent the night watching her, and they didn’t talk much. Rick sat in a chair he had pulled over to the bed. Joe continued to lay with Midnight in his arms.
After a few hours, Joe carefully got up. He looked at Rick, and without a word, Rick moved to take his place. Rick sat on the bed and leaned against the headboard. Midnight stirred, her hand reaching out, touching his chest. He put his arm around her and drew her up to him. She didn’t open her eyes, but she settled against him, her head on his chest, her arm resting across his stomach.
Joe watched, as Midnight settled with Rick, and then left the room. He walked out to the living room, pulled open the sliding glass doors, and walked outside. He went to sit on the edge of the hill. The wind blew his hair from his face, as he looked out at the ocean. The impact of the evening’s events started hitting him. He knew that Midnight could have easily killed herself, and he would have been arranging her funeral. No, he corrected himself, I would have killed myself next. He’d spent a lot of time mulling over the incident of a few nights before. He realized now that he had done a lot of damage to their relationship and he cursed himself for it. He’d stepped over that line of trust they’d established, but he knew that there was nothing that he could do now. All he could do was be there for her, now that she needed him, and hope that she’d forgive him later.
Joe stayed outside for almost an hour, thinking about what could have happened, and thinking what an asshole he had been, and how lucky he was that Rick had come to him. Eventually he went back into the house, and back into Midnight’s room. Rick’s eyes shifted to him as he walked in. Joe looked at his lifelong friend, with his partner; they looked good together, Joe decided. He wondered if it would last this time, and he found himself hoping it would. He sat down in the chair beside the bed, making no move to trade places with Rick. It was as if in changing places the first time, Rick had taken his place in Midnight’s life. Joe felt the pull at his heart as the thought came to him.
Early the next morning, Joe showered and made coffee for himself and Rick. They stood in the kitchen drinking it, neither one of them speaking, both lost in their own thoughts.
“I guess I’ll get going,” Joe said finally. Rick nodded. “You call me if you need me here, okay?” Joe said, his voice stern because of his concern for Midnight.
“I will,” Rick said, then he looked pointedly at Joe. “Is she going to be okay?” he asked, seeking reassurance from the man that knew her best.
Joe sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know, man, I really don’t know. It’s a lot like when her brother was killed.” Rick looked at Joe for a long time, wishing he had been more positive, but he knew that Joe was just as concerned about Midnight as he was, and that Joe was just telling the truth.
“I’ll keep a close eye on her,” Rick said. He saw a pained look cross Joe’s face.
“You’ve cleaned up after me a lot lately, haven’t you?” Joe said, his voice self-depreciating.
“Some,” Rick answered honestly, “but we’ve all been through a lot of shit lately.”
Joe didn’t answer for a minute and then he slowly extended his hand to Rick. Rick regarded his outstretched hand for a few moments, but Joe did not pull it back. Joe watched Rick, and after a few tense moments Rick’s hand came out to clasp Joe’s. They both smiled as they shook hands and in that moment their friendship was healed, a little different, but healed.
After checking on Midnight, and kissing her tenderly on the cheek, Joe left the house. He stopped at Randy’s house. Darrell answered the door, his look instantly wary.
“We’ve never formally met,” Joe said as he extended his hand to Darrell. “Joe Sinclair.” His voice was matter of fact and in no way apologetic.
Darrell reluctantly extended his hand and the two men shook hands. Darrell glared at Joe the whole time, evidently challenging him. Joe was almost amused, silently daring him to say something. Randy approached them and broke the ice.
“Joe?” she said, very surprised to see him. He looked very haggard and tired.
“Randy, we have to talk. Can we go somewhere?” he asked, looking at Darrell and then back to her.
“Sure,” Randy said, taking his arm, “we can go in the living room.”
She led Joe to the small living room. Joe looked around, taking in the old, but well-kept furniture, and the faded curtains. Randy sat on the couch, and looked up at him. She seemed even more fragile here, in this place, like a waif that needed a shining knight to take her out of all this. Something pulled at Joe’s heart at the sight of her. They needed to talk about what had happened a few nights before, but now was not the time.
He sat down on the couch next to her and took her hands in his. He was clearly hesitant to
say what he needed to and Randy knew that something bad had happened.
“Joe?” Randy said, her voice a mere whisper. Her eyes were wide with fear for what he was going to say.
Joe swallowed, his eyes not leaving hers. “Randy, look, a lot has happened and I’m going to need your help so you’re going to have to try to hold it together for me. Will you try?” His eyes pleaded with her. He didn’t know how she was going to take Tim’s death, or Midnight’s subsequent state. He knew it was going to be shock for her. She nodded, her eyes still wide.
“Randy, Tim’s been killed.” His voice was soft, but Randy still felt the impact of what he had said.
She sucked in her breath in a ragged gasp, tears coming to her eyes immediately. Joe pulled her to him, hugging her. After a few moments, she sat back and looked up at him, waiting. She had the feeling that there was more.
“Midnight found him, Randy, and she’s in a bad way right now, so I’m going to need you, now more than ever.” He watched her closely, checking her reaction. He needed to know that she could handle what was going on. She nodded numbly.
“Is she okay?” Randy asked sounding scared.
“I wish I knew …” He hesitated. He wasn’t sure how much he should tell her. She was going to be important in helping him in the next few days. She deserved to know everything. “When Rick and I found her, she was curled up with her gun, and her finger was on the trigger.”
“Oh God,” Randy said, realizing the severity of what he had said. Randy couldn’t believe that someone who seemed so strong, as Midnight always did, could in the blink of an eye become unstable.
It made the impact of Tim’s death seem even harder. When Randy looked up at Joe, her eyes told him that she trusted him to get them all through this. After all the turmoil of the last week, her unwavering trust in him buoyed his failing spirit. He hugged her to him again, drawing some strength from her faith in him.
Building Empires (MidKnight Blue Book 1) Page 23