Building Empires (MidKnight Blue Book 1)

by Sherryl Hancock

  Joe nodded, having heard from Midnight what garbage her parents were. Nothing like his parents had been. Midnight’s had been alcoholic drug addicts who apparently overnight forgot they actually had kids. It had been a wonder social services had never stepped in. Joe supposed it was because Midnight had taken care of herself and Thomas. She’d made sure Thomas had something to eat, clothes to wear, and a place to live, such that it was. Midnight had also made sure that Thomas had gone to school, wanting better for him than she’d had. It had all been for naught when he’d been killed.

  Now Jack Chevalier thought he could contact his daughter after all these years and she’d welcome the contact with an open heart. Not likely.

  “What a jerk,” Randy said from behind them.

  Midnight, Joe, and Rick looked over at her and Randy looked chagrined, thinking she’d spoken out of turn. But then she drew up her courage, and walked over to Midnight’s desk.

  “I mean, what kind of parents can abandon their child, especially when she needs them the most. Don’t they care about what you went through? What kind of people are they?” Her voice indicated her distaste for them.

  “Not very nice people,” Joe enjoined.

  “Really,” Rick added.

  Midnight looked at the three of them, gathered around her like a human shield. It felt good to have these people care about her so much that they would stand with her no matter what happened. She smiled and the other three laughed nervously, not sure what to make of her change in moods.

  “Oh, God you guys lighten up!” Midnight said, laughing. “Jesus, I guess old Jack was feeling a little brave. Hopefully he won’t get his courage up again anytime in the near future, I hate bad PR.” She made a face then, and the other three couldn’t help but laugh.

  Chapter 12

  The surveillance started that night. Joe and Rick had the first shift at a house in East San Diego. Nothing turned up, and after five hours, both men were really bored.

  “So, is everything between you and Midnight resolved?” Rick asked, looking over at Joe.

  “Yeah, I think so, although I don’t think our relationship will never be the same as it was. It’s okay though, I think we need to move on, you know?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Rick said.

  “So where’s your head at when it comes to her?” Joe asked.

  “Well,” Rick said, his eyes trailing out the window, “you know, when I met her, she blew me away. She’s so incredible looking, and she’s got some serious fire. But then we got together, and I decided she had too much fire, even for me, so I tried to stand back. But man, she’s damn hard to stay away from, isn’t she?”

  Joe nodded in response, grinning, knowing what Rick was saying; he’d had a hard time with that himself a few times.

  “Anyway,” Rick continued, “then when all that shit happened with you and her, and she needed someone, I knew I had to be there for her. I told myself it was out of loyalty to you, but I found myself feeling very possessive of her. You know me, Joe, I don’t ever care about a girl that much, not to the point of fighting my best friend over her!”

  “And that you did,” Joe said, with no anger in his voice, only irony.

  “Yeah, but I guess what surprised me, was how I felt that night she locked herself in her house. Joe, I didn’t care what I had to do to get to her, and when we got in, and I saw her with that gun, that scared the hell out of me. I guess I knew then that I was falling for her …” Rick’s voice trailed off then, as he looked at Joe for something akin to sympathy.

  Joe shook his head slowly, as if not believing that Rick could be so dumb. “Oh man,” Joe said sighing deeply, “yeah, that’s what I thought. Damn, Rick, I warned you not to start up with her, now you’re stuck.” He shook his head again, looking out the window.

  “And she doesn’t feel the same, does she?” Rick said, his voice very matter of fact, but Joe could see in his eyes that he was begging him to differ.

  Joe looked at his best friend for a long time, then he slowly shook his head. “I tried to warn you, man,” Joe said lamely.

  Rick gave a short laugh. “Yeah, it’s kind of like saying that breathing will kill you. It’s little hard not to, but it will kill you.” Rick shook his head then leaned against the passenger side window. “Shit man, what am I going to do? I can’t stay away from her, and I can’t make her feel something she doesn’t. I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

  “Basically,” Joe said.

  Rick was silent for a while, then he shrugged. “Well, to hell with it, I’m just going to be with her, if she’ll even let me, and to hell with love.”

  “Now, there’s a healthy attitude,” Joe said, sarcastically, shaking his head, but smiling at Rick’s determination.

  “What choice do I have?”

  Joe shook his head and laughed. “Really, none.”

  They were silent then, each lost in thoughts of the woman they cared about. The rest of the night passed uneventfully.

  ****

  The following night started out much the same. Joe and Rick once again sat in front of the house they were staking out. They had been out there for four hours so far. Many members of the Scorpions had entered the house, but none of them matched the description they had of Robbins. They were talking about other possible directions they could go to get information on Robbins when they heard a scream. It sounded like a young girl, and both Rick and Joe were out of the car in seconds.

  Neither one of the them saw the man that stood twenty yards away, pointing a gun at Joe’s head. Joe didn’t hear the shot, nor did he feel the bullet as it hit him in the back. Rick heard it and skidded to a stop, turning in time to see Joe fall. “Joe!” he yelled, as he ran back to his friend. He fell to his knees, feeling for a pulse on Joe’s neck. He felt a slight one.

  “Son of a bitch!” he yelled, but Joe was unconscious.

  With tears of frustration and rage starting in his eyes, Rick looked up and saw the man standing there, with an evil smile on his face. He was now pointing the gun at Rick, and Rick waited, sure he was going to die in the next instant. But as the man pulled the trigger, nothing happened. The man looked down at the weapon, and saw that the slide was locked halfway, the gun had jammed. He threw the gun aside in frustration.

  Rick was watching him to see if he had some sort of backup weapon, so he didn’t notice the man stealing up behind him with a switchblade in his hand. Rick felt a searing pain as the blade sliced through his shoulder. Moving with lightning speed, he jumped to his feet, putting himself between his assailant and Joe. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that the man with the gun had disappeared. Rick was mad now. These bastards had set him and Joe up and they had tried to kill him and may have already killed his best friend. With strength born of blinding rage, Rick lunged at the knife wielder. The guy never had a chance, but he put up a valiant fight, cutting Rick a number of times in his efforts. Rick didn’t feel anything, the adrenaline running through his body keeping him moving.

  He beat the knife wielder into unconsciousness then turned to Joe. He knelt next to him, again checking for a pulse. As his own pulse slowed, Rick started to feel the searing pain in his shoulder, and from the other assorted cuts he’d sustained. He was feeling a little light-headed from his blood loss, but his main concern was Joe, who was still unconscious. Keeping a close eye on his surroundings to make sure that none of the Scorpions came out to finish him or Joe off, Rick moved to Joe’s car.

  He reached inside and grabbed the portable radio.

  He moved back to kneel by Joe, then spoke into the radio. “I need help,” he said, knowing he wasn’t using the right terms. “I need an ambulance at 2244 Home Avenue!”

  “Identify yourself,” the dispatcher replied.

  “I’m Rick Debenshire, Sergeant Sinclair has been shot, hurry the fuck up and get an ambulance here!”

  He put the radio down so he could keep his hand on Joe, hoping the contact would keep Joe with him. There was a cold hard knot in his stomach;
he knew that Joe could be dying as he waited for the ambulance. He didn’t have the strength to move Joe, and doing so would possibly do more damage. Rick reached over and pulled Joe’s gun out of his shoulder holster. Leaning back against the front bumper of Joe’s Porsche, he rested his uninjured arm on his knees, watching watched for anyone approaching, the gun in his hand with his finger on the trigger. The light-headed feeling and now nausea was getting worse, but he was determined to stay conscious until the police arrived. He was almost unconscious when the police car and ambulance came skidding around the corner. Seeing them, he closed his eyes, leaning his head on his arm and blacked out. He didn’t see the paramedics examine Joe; he didn’t hear the exclamations about how much blood Joe had lost or about how much damage it had done. He didn’t hear that Joe’s pulse was thready or when they lost Joe’s pulse altogether and had to initiate emergency resuscitation procedures.

  ****

  Midnight was in her office when she heard Rick’s radio call. Her heart stopped. She grabbed her gun, and hit the stairs at a dead run. Once in the parking lot, she jumped into her car, and started it simultaneously. She didn’t notice the dark gray car that fell in behind her as she drove at a frantic pace toward the hospital they’d be taken to. She had no idea that Rick had been hurt too. As she drove, she called dispatch to ask for an update. The dispatcher informed her that both men were down, and that at their last update, they had lost Joe’s pulse.

  “Oh, my God,” Midnight said to herself as she hung up the phone.

  She was speeding down the freeway, her mind going a mile a minute. This couldn’t be happening, she couldn’t lose Joe and Rick, not after everything they had all been through. Remotely she thought she had better call Randy. If the girl really did care about Joe, she may not even get a chance to say goodbye if … Midnight couldn’t finish the thought. She reached over and picked up her phone again to dial Randy’s number. Darrell answered.

  “Darrell, it’s Lieutenant Chevalier, I need to talk to Randy.”

  “Well Lieutenant, my sister is asleep, so you’ll just have to—”

  “Don’t give me shit, Darrell!” Midnight yelled into the phone. “Just put her on the line!”

  Randy came on the line a minute later. “Midnight what is it?”

  “Randy, Joe’s been hurt, and he might be …” Midnight steeled herself to say the word, “dead. I’m headed to Scripps Mercy Hospital. Meet me there as soon as you can.”

  Randy hung up the phone in shock. Darrell was staring at her, having seen her go white when Midnight had told her about Joe. “Randy, what is it?”

  “I’ve got to go, I need the keys to your car,” she said, holding out her hand.

  “Go? Where?” Darrell said looking perplexed, even as he pulled the keys out of his pocket.

  “It’s Joe, he’s been hurt. I’ve got to go, Darrell. Give me the damned keys!” She snatched the keys out of his hand and ran out the car.

  She couldn’t believe that Joe could be dead. It just wouldn’t be fair, Joe was the first man she had ever loved and trusted, and now if he was gone … She didn’t even want to think about it. She jumped into the Camaro and started it with a roar, noting as she did that Darrell had come to the front door. Without looking back at him, she backed out of the driveway and sped off toward the hospital. She frequently had to wipe at the tears that continued to fall. All she knew was that she needed to get to the hospital. Nothing would stop her.

  Midnight’s phone rang a few minutes later. It was Spider calling from the scene. He told her that Joe had been shot with a nine-millimeter caliber pistol and that from what witnesses had said, Joe had never had a chance; the guy shot him in the back. Midnight steeled herself against the mental image of Joe lying dying in the street, like her brother.

  “Midnight!” Spider said, concerned about her mental state, knowing how close she was to Joe.

  “What about Rick?” Midnight asked, her voice a dead whisper. She didn’t want to know if Joe was dead or not, not now, not yet, she had to get to the hospital first.

  “Midnight, Rick’s okay, he received a few nasty cuts, and one real bad one on his shoulder, but he’ll be okay.”

  “Okay, okay,” Midnight said, nodding, her tears starting again. “I’m on my way to Scripps, that’s where they went right?”

  “Yeah,” Spider replied, knowing that she shouldn’t be driving. “Midnight, be careful, okay we don’t need to lose you, too.”

  Midnight let out a sob, at the word “too.” She hung up the phone, putting her foot down hard on the gas pedal, determined to get to the hospital.

  Midnight arrived first, with Randy not too far behind. Midnight jumped out of the car and hit the doors at a dead run, with Randy right behind her. She flashed her badge at the security officers outside the emergency room, barely slowing. They ran down the corridor and, turning a corner, Midnight caught sight of Rick. She skidded to a stop fifteen yards from him, as if not approaching would change the outcome of what he’d tell her. He was leaning against a wall with his arm in a sling. His head was bowed.

  “No!” The single word ripped from Midnight’s throat as she started to run again, toward Rick.

  His head snapped up at the sound of her voice, and she could see the cuts on his face as she approached. She ran straight to him, and into his arms. Rick held her against him as best he could.

  “He can’t be, he can’t be,” Midnight said, over and over.

  Then she looked up at him, her eyes begging him to tell her different.

  “Night, he’s not dead, but they said it doesn’t look good,” Rick told her.

  “Oh God, no!” Midnight said.

  She turned to Randy who had gone white, and was shaking her head in denial.

  “No, he can’t die, Midnight. No!” Randy leaned against the opposite wall, with her arms crossed in front of her as if she was trying to literally hold herself together.

  Rick slid to a squatting position, his head on his arm, his sorrow increased seeing Randy’s reaction to the news. Midnight knelt next to him, trying desperately to hold on to her control. Her hand stroked his hair.

  “I tried, Midnight, but there was nothing I could do. The bastards shot him in the back, sons a bitches.” Sobs racked his body then, and Midnight took him in her arms.

  He leaned against her, holding her with his good arm. Midnight was crying now too, and looking at Randy. Pulling Rick with her, Midnight moved to a couch nearby. She nodded to Randy to come sit with them. Midnight held Rick against her with one arm and with the other hand reached out to touch Randy’s hand. Randy took Midnight’s hand and held it tightly. They stayed that way for two hours, waiting for the doctor to come out and tell them if Joe would live. When he finally came out, it was Midnight who stood. Rick and Randy looked up with haunted, terrified eyes. The doctor looked at all of them, his eyes cool and businesslike.

  “How is he?” Midnight asked, her thumb rubbing the palm her hand in agitation.

  “He’s alive, for now. There was a great deal of damage. He was shot with a large caliber weapon and it did a number on his insides. He’s lost a lot of blood, but we’ve tried to stabilize that. His condition is still critical. I wish I had better news.”

  Midnight just stared up at the doctor, watching his mouth move, and wishing she wasn’t hearing what he was saying, knowing that Joe’s chances were almost nil. Suddenly, the doctor’s face became unfocused. She tried hard to focus, but then everything went black. Rick saw Midnight starting to waver and jumped up, catching her before she fell. He laid her on the couch. She had passed out cold. The doctor called for a nurse, checked her pulse, and told the nurse to get some smelling salts. Midnight woke to find Rick holding her hand, and Randy standing by with a worried look on her face. She jerked her head away from the smelling salts the nurse was putting under her nose.

  “Midnight, are you okay?” Rick asked.

  She nodded, absently, then she remembered why she was here and what the doctor had said abou
t Joe. She started to shake, her breathing came in short gasps. Rick held her, trying to calm her down. The doctor suggested a sedative for her, and Rick nodded without letting Midnight go.

  Randy watched the scene feeling like she was far above it all, like she was watching a movie. This couldn’t be happening, no, she was just a normal person, and this type of thing didn’t happen to normal people. They didn’t fall in love with their boss, who then got shot and died. This just couldn’t be happening. She was terrified when Midnight blacked out, she couldn’t believe what the doctor had said. Joe made it through surgery, but he could still die, that wasn’t right. If people made it through surgery, they were supposed to be okay. Randy wished that things would just stop, so she could change them around to the way she wanted them to be. She wanted to keep that doctor from saying “I wish I had better news.” He had said he wished it was better news, but Randy found that hard to believe. How could this doctor be sorry, he didn’t know Joseph Michael Sinclair, he didn’t know all of the terrible things that his patient had been through over the course of his life. To have Joe die now, would be like a cruel joke, and Randy just couldn’t believe that it could happen so easily. She watched as the doctor gave Midnight a shot to calm her down. Midnight didn’t seem to notice. After a few minutes though, she became noticeably calmer.

  “Mr. Sinclair will be in recovery for a number of hours, so there’s really no point in keeping her here,” the doctor said, gesturing to a shell-shocked Midnight. “Why don’t you take her home and we’ll notify you of any change in his condition.”