A Woman of Valor, page 29
“Yeah, she’s all right,” a few of them mumbled. Gunner gave her a thumbs-up. Blake’s face darkened, and he crossed his arms. Still, he stayed in the background.
“Let me be clear,” Val said. “I had nothing to do with Gunner’s release. I didn’t know he was out until we saw you earlier tonight.”
Pope chuckled. “You say so.” He stared into the fire. “You going to talk to the Dragons now, keep them on their side of the playground?”
Val sighed. “Care to tell me where to find them?”
“That’ll cost you another five.” Pope laughed. “Nah, I’m only joshing ya. They hang out by the Y in the old mill district. Long as they stay there, we’re cool. Dig?”
“Yeah. Dig.” Val couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She signaled Blake, and they headed toward the cruiser.
“Yo, Copette?”
Val paused, exchanged a glance with Travis, and faced Pope. “Call me Officer Dawes, if you don’t mind.”
Pope, still standing, shrugged. “Yo. I heard what happened to Copsky. I just wanted to say sorry. That sucks.”
The comment caught Val off-guard, and she stammered before replying. “Thanks. I’ll tell him next time I see him.”
Val and Blake returned to the cruiser. Pope’s expression of concern for Gil occupied Val for several minutes, distracting her from Blake’s tight-lipped, tense brooding. After they’d driven a few blocks in silence, she said, “Something on your mind?”
Blake cleared his throat. “Yeah, that business with the five Franklins,” he said. “You’re seriously paying them cash for some leads on a case or something?”
Val’s heart rate quickened, her ears burning. “I offered a reward for information leading to that child rapist, Harkins,” she said. “They gave us the tip that led to the shootout where Gil, er—”
“Holy shit!” Blake wagged his head and exhaled a burst of air, clouding his passenger side window. “I couldn’t think of a worse idea. You know what they do with that money, don’t you?”
“I can imagine,” she said. “It was an impulsive decision.”
“You can’t do it,” he said. “Even if you could afford it, which I doubt, on a rookie’s pay.”
She stared at him. “I have to do it,” she said. “I made a deal.”
“A dumb deal,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air.
“If I go back on my word, they’d never trust me again.”
“Bullshit!” Travis gripped the armrest on the passenger door. “Besides, you haven’t caught Harkins yet. We can’t even be sure he’s the one who shot Gil that night. You’ve got no proof they gave you good information.”
Val considered that and kept her voice calm in response. “Fair point. But we’re ninety percent sure.”
“Even if you were a hundred percent,” he said, his voice rising, “every penny of that money makes our jobs harder. It’s another gun on the street, another needle in a twelve-year-old’s arm. Can you live with that? Do you want to be the one shot by that gun?”
Her arms shook on the wheel, frustration and guilt rising to storm levels inside her. The vision of Gil lying in the hospital, the victim of a thug’s bullet, tore at her insides. Samuels, too, had taken one from a thug. How many others?
But the thug in both cases was Harkins—whom The Disciples were trying to help her catch.
“Besides,” Travis went on in a calmer voice when she didn’t respond, “it strikes me, they owe you. At least for Dog, whatever the hell that’s about. You’re right about Gunner—the prosecutor let him walk because of Pops’s sloppy arrest. But they don’t need to know that. I’d say your accounts are settled for now.”
Val swallowed hard and focused on driving. It was the one thing she could do on the straight and narrow at that moment.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Val found a note pinned to her bedroom door when she trudged in late that morning. Oversized girlish curlicues piqued her interest with the words, “Big news! Lunch at Claytown Café?” A noontime meeting meant getting less than eight hours of sleep. Not good, but she’d neglected her lifelong friend lately, and longed for meaningful conversation with someone she trusted. Besides, some old-fashioned girl talk would cheer her up. She scribbled “YES!” on the back of the note and shoved it under Beth’s door before collapsing into bed.
Val arrived early and nursed a cappuccino to jump-start her waking-up process. Beth, as usual, slid into the booth twenty minutes late, nearly colliding with the pink-haired waitress who’d come by to refill Val’s water glass.
“I’ve only ever been here for breakfast,” Beth said, shivering inside a fluffy winter coat. “How’s the lunch menu here?”
“Like, the best ever,” Pinkie said, hovering nearby. “Bagel sandwiches, frittatas, and, like, a killer omelet, the Freaky-Greeky. Totally vegan, except for the eggs and the feta cheese. You want a cappuccino too?”
“Regular black coffee’s fine,” Beth said, and leaned across the booth to hug Val.
“So, what’s the news?” Val asked when Beth settled back into her seat. “New car? Job? Boyfriend?” Please, she begged the universe, let it be a new boyfriend.
“None of the above.” Beth’s grin burst off her face. “In fact, you might say I’ve lost a boyfriend.” She slid her left hand to the center of the table. It took Val a moment to notice the glistening diamond cluster lighting Beth’s ring finger.
“Beth, I’m so...happy for you!” She hoped that sounded more convincing than it felt. She hugged Beth across the table, shouting congratulations and spilling the salt and pepper shakers. She waved Pinkie back. “This calls for a celebration!”
After a round of mimosas, the two friends settled down to lunch and serious talk. “I didn’t realize the relationship had gotten so serious,” Val said. “A month ago, you weren’t even sure you wanted to keep seeing Josh.”
Beth sipped her drink. “True. But we’ve talked a lot since then, and he is so sweet. He really loves and respects me, and that’s more than I can say about ninety percent of the guys I’ve dated.”
“But do you love him?” Val asked. “Last time we talked, you were only lukewarm on him. All your life you’ve talked about hooking up with an athlete, and, well, Josh is kind of...”
“He’s no Adonis,” Beth said. “But I don’t care. I’ve had my fill of those self-centered guys. A skinny, nerdy guy who wants to raise my children and treats me like a queen beats those empty-headed assholes any day.”
Val forced a wry smile. “I’m glad for you,” she said, trying to mean it. “You look happy, and that’s what counts.”
Beth gushed about her wedding and honeymoon plans for the next half hour. Val tried her best to show enthusiasm, but her heart wasn’t in it, and that only intensified her sense of guilt. She couldn’t decide on the culprit for her dour mood—she had too many options. Jealousy over Beth’s romantic bliss? Unease over Beth settling for the wrong guy? Her guilt over Gil’s condition? Perhaps it was her rising sense of desperation over the dimming prospects for finding Harkins. Or her general sense of frustration with her failures as a cop. She decided on All of the Above.
“What about you, Val?” Beth asked, finally running out of details to share. “Any new guys in your life?”
“No.” Val’s smile turned wry. “I fill my life with other things. Work keeps me busy, and I spend as much time as I can with my niece. Hell, Ali’s doing better than I am. She has a boy interested in her, and she’s only five!”
Beth laughed. “I’m sorry, Val,” she said, “but that’s funny. Well, maybe you can meet someone at my wedding, if you haven’t by then. You’re welcome to bring a date, of course.”
“Well, I doubt I’ll meet anyone by then.” Against her will, her mind flashed to the man she most admired, lying in his hospital bed because of her. “Besides, it’s boring to be the date of a bridesmaid.”
Beth’s expression made Val blush and caused her heart to sink. “Uh, oh.” Heat rose in Val’s cheeks. “I just assumed—I shouldn’t have.”
“I’m sorry,” Beth said. “We’re keeping the wedding party small—just a maid of honor and best man—my sister, his brother. Oh, Val, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“No, no, forget it.” Val faked a sneeze and dabbed her nose and eyes with a napkin. She took a sip of mimosa to help her swallow the lump in her throat. “At least I can’t say, ‘Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.’”
Afterward, Val sank into a deep funk on the bus to the hospital. Until Beth’s announcement at lunch, her lack of a romantic or social life hadn’t bothered her. Suddenly, though, she felt lonely. Beth was her only real friend, and she knew from experience—her growing distance from Chad sprang to mind—that Beth’s engagement and marriage would drive them apart, too. She’d made only one true friend on the force, and look what she’d done to him.
On the other hand, her limited dating experience was almost universally bad. Not all as bad as Josh’s Neanderthal friend Brent, but close.
She choked when she realized that Brent would probably be at the damned wedding. Oh, great, she chided herself. Way to ruin even that with negative thinking.
Val tried, and failed, to remember the last time a decent guy had asked her out. She rarely even drew a second glance from men, other than the leers from creeps like Pops. Being a cop didn’t help. But then again, she didn’t even try to attract men. She kept her hair short, rarely applied more than a trace of makeup, and when not in uniform, she dressed casually—Beth would say “frumpy,” and sometimes, “like a tomboy.” But she was not unattractive. Due to regular workouts, her body stayed fit and thin—okay, perhaps too thin. Her breasts could be bigger, and maybe she should invest in something other than an unflattering sports bra one of these days. Guys sometimes checked out her butt, thinking she hadn’t noticed. Guys other than Pops. Like that cute-ish guy in the second row of the bus...who got off on the very next stop. With his wife or girlfriend.
The problem wasn’t looks. Hell, Beth was no looker, but she fought the boys off with sticks. But Beth was interested in meeting men and showed it. Val wasn’t, and didn’t. Guys could tell before asking she would say no.
“And why is that?” she asked aloud to the nearly empty bus.
Stupid question. She knew the answer. She slouched down in her seat, covering her face with the lapels of her overcoat.
Thanks a lot, Milt. Thanks a whole fucking lot.
***
Hospital staff welcomed Val with good news upon her arrival. The doctors had upgraded Gil’s condition to stable and lowered his morphine dose so he could more or less function again. A more puzzling revelation greeted her at the door to his private room: the return of Pops standing guard.
“Surprised to see me?” Pops said. “You shouldn’t be. You’re the reason I’m here.”
Val tried to hide her elation. “Believe it or not, your own behavior might have had something to do with it,” she said. “On the plus side, Gil’s getting better, so you’ll be back on donut duty soon. Hopefully with a new partner.”
“Stuff it, Dawes.” Pops sneered at her, blocking the door. “Or would you rather I exercise my discretion and not let you in? It’s up to me, you know.”
“Why?” she said in an innocent tone. “Do you suspect I’m packing an illegal .22 somewhere?” She adopted a wide stance and held her arms out, daring him to frisk her. Please, please, she said with her eyes. Give me an excuse to level you.
Pops glared at her, lips curled, and stood aside. “Get in there before I change my mind,” he said.
Upon entering, Val found Gil awake and watching a sports talk show on TV. He’d lost the ghostly pallor, but dark circles remained under his eyes. When he spotted her, though, a huge grin spread across his face. “Hey, partner,” he said in a tired voice. After muting the TV, he held out his hand. Without thinking, she grasped it in both of hers. She noticed how clammy her hands were, and queasiness rose in her gut. She tried to let go, but he held on, drawing her closer.
“N-no Jessica today?” she asked.
Gil shook his head. “She went back to New Haven for a few days,” he said. “Sit, stay a while.” He nodded toward a guest chair.
Relieved to have an excuse to escape his grip, she pulled the chair close and rested her hands on her lap. “Jessica‘s great, Gil. You’re lucky to have her.”
“Yeah, she’s—wait.” Gil fixed her with a puzzled frown. “What do you mean, ‘have’ her?”
Val’s mouth stopped working for a moment. Or her brain did. In any event, words wouldn’t come. She coughed and patted her chest to buy time. “Uh, you know. As a fiancée.”
“As a what?” Gil’s frown deepened from puzzlement to pure confusion. “Did she tell you that?”
“Uh...yeah...she said you two had gotten back together.” Val’s ears burned, and guilty feelings swelled in her chest. “Don’t you remember?”
Disgust replaced confusion on Gil's face. “Oh, Lord. Jessica’s telling her damned stories again.” He blew out a gush of air, closed his eyes a moment, then opened them and faced Val again. “Jess and I were engaged—ten years ago. And I did call her a few days before, uh, all this happened.” He lowered his eyes and looked away. “I was lonely, I guess. Hearing her voice cheered me up, but we did not ‘get back together’. At least, not in my mind.”
Val covered her broad smile with her hands and pretended to cough again. Not engaged! She should feel sorry for him. And for Jessica. But she didn’t. No matter how inappropriate her feelings were for her partner, they would not go away. “You two need to chat,” she said after an eternity.
“We will. Damn, I don’t look forward to that conversation.” He chuckled. “I’d rather face Harkins again. He doesn’t scare me half as much as her.”
Val laughed. “Well, your sense of humor is back.” In a more serious tone, she continued, “I’m glad to see your condition has improved. You had us worried there.”
Gil waved that sentiment away. “I ain’t going anywhere. Not as long as I have these fancy accommodations.” He gazed around the room and his face lit up with another tired smile.
“You’ve got quite the armed guard outside your door,” she said. “Clayton’s finest.”
“Yeah, that’s weird,” he said. “I seriously doubt Harkins is showing up here. Besides, I thought Gibson assigned Pops to you?”
“We, uh, didn’t work out too well.” Val heaved a deep sigh. “You’re a tough act to follow.”
He turned toward her, still smiling. “I miss working with you.”
His directness caught her off guard. “I, uh, miss you too,” she said. “Working with you, and...everything.” Sweat collected on her scalp, and she could hear her heartbeat. She‘d never told anyone that, other than her brother. What was it about Gil that made her blurt out such things?
“Speaking of work,” he said. “Any new developments on Harkins?”
“He apparently stole a Jeep from one of the strippers,” she said, happy to switch gears in the conversation. “I’m supposed to meet with Jalen Marshall to follow up. Has he been by?”
“Jalen’s supposed to visit today. I actually expected him when you showed up.” Gil adjusted his position in the bed and grunted. “I’m going to have wicked bedsores before I get out of here.”
Seeing his pain and hearing his complaints, guilt washed over her again. “I’m so sorry I did this to you. I feel so awful.”
“Don’t!” Gil reached out again. After several moments of pretending not to notice, she pressed her hand into his again, and he enclosed it in a firm grip, sending a tingling sensation up her arm. “Listen to me, Dawes. You didn’t do this. Harkins did. Nobody else. And it’s my fault for being careless, not yours.”
“You took my bullet,” she said. “I—”
“Bullshit!”
“I’m the one fixated on this case—this guy,” Val said. “It’s my fault we chased him, and that led to the standoff. And you were trying to protect me that night, and instead—”
“Instead I fell on my ass and he shot me,” Gil said. “None of that is your fault.”
Val drew a deep, unsteady breath. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.”
“We do agree on one thing,” Gil said. “You’re obsessed with finding him—understandably so. It makes sense given the type of cop you are, and your personal history. And because the guy’s a damned feral animal. But it’s important to me, too, Val. To the whole department—hell, the whole city. Or should be.”
“Yes, but it’s not worth losing y—uh, good cops like you over.” Her lip trembled, and tears welled up in her eyes.
“You haven’t lost me yet.” He glanced at the heart monitor behind him. “At least, last time I checked.”
She laughed, and tension flowed out of her. “You need to check the machines to be sure?”
Gil laughed too, then winced again. He squeezed her hand harder. To her amazement, no more tingling ran up her arm, and the clamminess had disappeared.
She had one more thing to say to Gil, but the words stuck inside her. She owed him more details about what had happened with Uncle Milt, and she’d waited long enough. Gil may no longer have been her partner, but he was still a friend—besides Beth, her closest friend. She couldn’t wait for another close call, or worse. She cleared her throat and composed her message in her mind—
A knock on the door interrupted. A moment later, Jalen Marshall entered, carrying a sheet of plastic rolled up in his hand.
“Kryz, you old dog!” Jalen bopped the metal rail at the end of the bed with the plastic roll. “How many women you got coming to hold your hand every day?” He laughed and slapped Val on the back. She pulled her hand from Gil’s grip, reddening.
“I’ll give you two some time,” she said, moving toward the door. “Jalen, can we catch up when you’re done?”
“Meet me and Ben in the cafeteria in twenty minutes. But first, stay for the ceremony.”
