Afraid to Lose Her

by Syndi Powell

  “Yes, he does.” The captain put her report on top of Dez’s and crossed his arms. “How are you really doing? If you need some time to recuperate from your injury...”

  “I told you I’m fine. Sore, but nothing I can’t handle.” Her cell phone strapped to her belt buzzed. She saw the number and frowned. “Sorry, Captain, I need to take this. It’s the hospital.” She stepped out of his office and answered her phone. “Lopez here.”

  “Ms. Lopez, I’m Dr. VanGilder from Detroit General. I received your biopsy results, and I was hoping you could set up an appointment to come in and discuss them.”

  She plopped down on the edge of a nearby desk, her legs suddenly losing the ability to stay standing and upright. “So it’s bad news.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “I’d really like to discuss this in person. Does tomorrow afternoon at four work for you?”

  No. More like never worked for her. She didn’t want to meet and discuss anything with this doctor. She wanted to be given a pat on the head, told she was fine then sent back into the world, whole and healthy. “Why not next week?”

  “I’d rather not wait on this, Ms. Lopez.”

  That couldn’t be good. “Then I’ll make tomorrow afternoon work.” She hung up her phone and looked up to see Dez watching her. She shook her head and pushed herself off the desk. Walked into the ladies’ room and leaned over the sink, peering into the mirror above it. Did she look sick? Could she see the cancer that had been hiding in her body? Her eyes burned, and she closed them. Took a few deep breaths then left the restroom.

  Dez waited for her in the hallway. “Bad news?”

  He always knew without her telling him. Was he psychic or something? He had told her before it was more like her thoughts telegraphed onto her face, and he knew how to interpret its messages. “The doctor is going to go over the test results with me tomorrow.”

  Dez ducked his head and stared at the floor. He muttered a curse under his breath. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  “No offense, Dez, but it’s not something I want a guy to overhear about me.” She shook her head. “No, it’s time that I told my mom. I should take her.”

  He looked up at her and put a hand on her shoulder. “If you change your mind, you know I’m here.”

  She was tempted to step into his arms and have him hold her until she could feel close to normal again, but didn’t want to cross that line yet. She might need him later. Instead, she stepped away from Dez and walked down the hall to call her mom. “I’ll be coming over tonight after work, if that’s okay.”

  “You never have to ask for permission.” Her mom paused on the other end. “I tell you what. I make your favorite enchiladas for dinner.”

  “You really don’t need to. I wanted to see you and Dad.” But she knew that telling her mom not to cook was like asking the ocean not to wave. “Thanks, Mama.”

  “Anytime, mija.”

  Sherri hung up the phone and walked back to her desk. Took a seat and stared at her computer monitor. She should do some work. Keep herself distracted from the thoughts in her head that threatened to pull her down into a dark place. One that she feared would spread its cold fingers around her throat and choke her.

  But work had little appeal, and she ended up staring at the screen and watching the clock until she could justify leaving. She waved to Dez and left the office before he could send her any more looks of pity.

  Traffic from the office to the old neighborhood distracted her enough from thinking, and she soon pulled up to her parents’ house and parked on the street. She sat in the driver’s seat and looked up at the home she’d lived in since she was six. Thirty years later, her parents still stayed despite offers from her and her brothers to help them move into a condo or a smaller house that wouldn’t require as much upkeep. They turned them down, assuring them that they weren’t that old yet. Sherri doubted that they’d ever admit when things became too much.

  A rap on the passenger-side window startled her. She pressed the button for it to lower and her baby brother Hugo stuck his head inside. “Mom wants to know if you’re coming in or if you plan on eating your dinner out here.”

  Sarcasm from her little brother? It must be a normal day in the Lopez household. “Ha-ha. I’ll be right in.”

  Hugo peered at her, frowning. “You okay?”

  She nodded and got out on the driver’s side. She looked at him over the roof of her car. “Yep. How’s college?”

  “Don’t remind me right now. Final exams next week. I’ve been studying so much, this is the first time I’ve been outdoors in the last three days.”

  “And graduation a week after that, don’t forget.” She walked around and put her left arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. “We’re so proud of you. Our baby is finally growing up.”

  She ruffled his hair, and he pushed her away. “Knock it off.” He ran the rest of the short walk up to the house and opened the front door. “She’s finally here. Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

  Mama walked into the living room and waved with her spatula to Sherri as she entered the house. “Hi, mija. Can you see if Abuela is ready for dinner? She’s watching her stories in her bedroom.”

  “Sure.” Sherri walked down the hallway to the room that had once belonged to her until she’d moved out at eighteen and joined the army. She knocked softly on the door then opened it. “Abuela, dinner is ready.”

  “Mi joya, you’re home.” Abuela groaned as she pushed off her rocking chair and approached her. She pulled Sherri’s face down to her level and gave her a loud, smacking kiss. “Tu madre tells me you got shot.”

  “It was nothing.” She held up her right arm and showed off the padding under the blouse she wore. “I’ll be healed in no time.”

  Abuela nodded then put her arm through Sherri’s. “If you say it is true, it is. Now tell me more about your young man.”

  Sherri wanted to roll her eyes. Her grandmother never gave up on this idea that she should be married. “I don’t have one, Abuela, and you know that. I’m free as a bird.”

  “Even birds make nests with their mates.”

  They slowly walked down the hall and into the living room, where Sherri’s father stared at the television screen. He muttered a curse in Spanish at the baseball players then looked up at Sherri. “Those Tigers are going to put me in an early grave.”

  Sherri laughed and kissed her father on his cheek. “They lose just to annoy you.”

  “Bah.” He flipped the television off with the remote. “Let’s go to the table before your madre chases at me with her spatula.”

  Dinner seemed quieter than their usual family dinners, but without her other two brothers and their families, less than half were present. Or maybe it was because Sherri stayed silent, lost in her thoughts. She looked up several times from her dinner plate to find Mama watching her, and she smiled as if to tell her that everything was okay.

  After dinner Sherri volunteered to wash the dishes with Mama. Thirty years, and they still hadn’t bought a dishwasher. Maybe she’d buy it as a Christmas gift and save her hands from early wrinkles. She thrust her hands into the sudsy water and pulled out a plate then swiped it with a cloth before handing it to Mama.

  “Something on your mind, mija? I figured you wanted to talk to me when you volunteered to wash dishes.”

  Sherri nodded and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Now that she was ready to tell her mother what was going on, the words got stuck and wouldn’t come out. She took a deep breath and washed a glass, wiping it several times before she could turn and face her mother. “Would you come with me to the doctor tomorrow?”

  Mama put the plate in the cupboard. “Of course. Are you sick?”

  “I don’t know.” She dropped her head and let it hang while she tried to say words
without turning them into sobs. “They found a lump, and they tested it, and now this doctor wants to tell me the news in person.” She raised her eyes to her mother’s tearful ones. “I’m scared, Mama. What if he says it’s cancer? What am I gonna do?”

  Mama opened her arms, and Sherri fell into them. She rubbed her back in slow circles as Sherri held on tight. “It’ll be okay, mija. No matter what it is, you’ll be fine.”

  Somehow with her mother saying it, Sherri felt slightly better. Maybe it would be okay.

  * * *

  DEZ PLACED THE cardboard cup of coffee from the diner down the street in front of Sherri, who kept her gaze on her computer monitor. “You look like hell.”

  She glanced up at him then snatched the coffee. “Thanks. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I used my time to look at the drug raid from several angles.” She turned the screen so that he could see her notes. She pointed to a list. “These are the people who knew the details about the raid. One of them had to spill the beans to someone in the drug ring.”

  He noted she’d put their names on the list. “Well, you can scratch us off since I know we didn’t tell anyone. Not even the captain knew the details about the raid until after it was over.”

  “I’m trying to be thorough, so our names stay.” She took a long draw from the cup of coffee and sighed. “We’re missing something. I know it, but I can’t figure out what.”

  “You’re sure this list is inclusive? What about the DEA’s informant? Where did they get their intel from?” He sipped from his own coffee and took a seat on the edge of Sherri’s desk. “How do we know that their source was reliable?”

  “The DEA isn’t talking right now, so we’re in the dark.” She shook her head. “They lost agents in that raid, so they’re holding their cards close to their chests.” She pressed Save on the computer and pushed away from her desk. “Something doesn’t seem right about this whole thing.”

  “You’re thinking a mole?”

  “I don’t know yet for sure, but it does seem like someone wanted them to know we were coming. If we had kept our planned time, they probably wouldn’t have been there. But then the lead agent bumped up our arrival and...”

  “And they had to shoot their way out.” He noticed the dark smudges under her eyes, and something inside him reared its head. He wanted desperately to protect her from whatever this was. To keep her safe. “What time is your doctor appointment?”

  “Four. I came in early to make up my shorter day. I told Mama I’d pick her up at three thirty.”

  She looked so small, so scared. He’d never seen her like this. She was so confident, so assured. But this same woman seemed to have shrunken into herself. He put a hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything...”

  Sherri stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t do that.”

  He looked down at himself and held his arms out. What in the world was she talking about? “I’m just offering my support.”

  “I’m not sick or dying.” But the look on her face told a different story.

  “Didn’t say you were.” He noticed that her eyes filled with tears, and he muttered a soft curse before pulling her in his arms. “Don’t tell me this isn’t appropriate, but you look like you could use a hug.”

  She pushed him away. “That’s what I’m talking about. Don’t hug me or tell me it’s going to be okay. I need you to act normal. Got it?”

  He sure did. His warrior was scared to death about this doctor’s appointment and what it could mean for her future. Their future. A bullet had come close to taking her away from him, and now cancer could be threatening to do the same? He swallowed at the acid at the back of his throat. He couldn’t lose her. His life didn’t make sense without her. He nodded. “Normal. I can do that.”

  “Good.” She picked up her coffee and looked around the office where agents started to trickle in. “Now find us a case or something to occupy our time until I have to leave.”

  “I’ve got just the thing.” He pulled a file from his desk next to hers and plopped it down. “Fake IDs and passports confiscated at the Detroit-Windsor border. Want to find who’s making them?”

  Sherri grinned, and Dez felt like he’d gotten his partner back from her inner turmoil.

  “You really know how to make this girl’s day,” she said.

  * * *

  SHERRI GLANCED AT the swarthy guy who sat in the chair across the table from her, then looked down at the file in front of her. She stood and started to pace around the interrogation room while Dez casually leaned against one wall.

  He’d agreed that she’d take lead in the questioning, so she slammed a fist on the file. The guy rolled his eyes at her, which just ticked her off even more. “This is a serious matter, Giroux. You’re selling fake passports and IDs, which is a felony. But then you’re selling them to people on the Department of Homeland Security’s watch list? Now we’re talking treason.” She leaned over the table. “Much more serious.”

  His eyes flicked to her chest. “Hey! Eyes up here, buddy. Not here.” She pointed to her chest. “But here.” She pointed to her face.

  Dez put a hand on her arm, but she shook it off. “Giroux, you’re not the mastermind behind this. We know it, you know it. So why don’t you tell us who is, and maybe we can see if treason can be a mere five-year stint in prison.”

  Giroux eyed the door. “You got the wrong guy.”

  Dez picked up a box that had been sitting on the floor and dumped its contents on the table. “These look like your handiwork to me.” He grabbed one and put it in front of Giroux. “This one should be familiar. We picked him up on a different charge and he gave us your name.”

  Giroux tossed the passport back to Dez. “You got nothing,” he said and settled back in his chair as if he had all the time in the world. “But I can give you something you want.”

  Aha. They had him. “Now you’re being smart. Who’s behind the counterfeit ring?” she pressed.

  Giroux shook his head. “That’s small potatoes compared to what I have for you.” He leaned in and dropped his voice. “You’re investigating a drug raid gone bad, right? I can give you names of the guys who were there. And more important, who wasn’t.” Sherri tried to keep her surprise off her face, but knew she’d failed when Giroux smirked. “Yeah, you’re interested.”

  “You don’t know what I am,” Sherri barked at him.

  “Agent Lopez.” Dez gestured toward the door. “A word?”

  Sherri gave a curt nod. Once outside the interview room, she punched Dez in the shoulder. “We had him and you call me out here for a conference?”

  “Because you were losing sight of what we’re here to do. And that’s to take down a bunch of counterfeiters trying to bring some scary people across our borders.”

  She frowned at him. She hadn’t forgotten why they were there, but if they could get a lead on the drug raid, too? They couldn’t let that opportunity pass them by. “But what if we could do both?”

  “Giroux is not going to give up both. It’s either or.” Dez paused and then added, “Come on, Sherri, we don’t want to lose this. We’ve come this far. He either gives us the ringleader on the counterfeit ring or he goes down. That’s it. No deals about the raid. No complications. Period.”

  “Let me at least try. We owe it to those agents who didn’t make it. Dez, in your heart you know I’m right. And if I am, then we solve two cases at once.”

  Dez waved her off. “No way. Eyes on the prize, Ace. We’re not going for extra credit here.”

  “Fine. Be like that.” She opened the door and walked into the room to resume the interrogation. “Giroux, you and I both know you have no intention of doing time for your boss. Let him get the heavy sentence while you serve a couple of months in a cushy cell.”

  “I give you his name then I’m dead anyway.”


  His eyes drifted down toward her chest, and Sherri slapped the table and pointed to her eyes. Dez sat on the table on the other side of Giroux. “We can offer you protection before and during the trial, after which you’ll serve a short term in a minimum security prison where you can play tennis and work on your tan.”

  Giroux refused. “You’ve got to give me something better.”

  Dez put his hand on the back of the chair Giroux sat in and leaned his face close to him. “There is no better, but I guarantee you that I’ll give you a lot worse if you don’t cooperate. The fact is, you being hauled in here has already made your boss wonder what you’ve told us. You really think he’ll believe you didn’t spill the beans?” He stood and pulled out his cell phone and threw it at Sherri, who caught it neatly. “We’re not getting anywhere. Call Spinks in the DA’s office and tell him that—”

  “Wait,” Giroux protested. “I’ll tell you.”

  She started to punch the number into the phone just as Dez put his hand on Giroux’s shoulder. “The time for negotiation is over. You had your chance.”

  “No, listen!” Giroux spat and jumped up.

  She glanced at Dez, who gave a short nod. She abandoned the call and handed the phone back to Dez, who pocketed it and stared at Giroux. “Sit down. We’re listening.”

  Giroux slumped into his chair. “I’ll give you his name once you put in writing that you’ll protect me before and after the trial. You don’t cross a guy like this without consequences.”

  Giroux stayed mum until they could get the Attorney General to sign off on a lesser crime with promises of protection by the US Marshal’s office. Sherri took the fax with the details in with her to the interview room. She placed it on the table before Giroux and handed him a pen. “You sign, then you give us the name.”

  She glanced at her watch. Three o’clock approached, and she needed to get this wrapped up so she could go pick up her mom before the doctor’s appointment. Dez saw her point to her watch. “We’re all good here. You go ahead and leave.”