To Know A Man

Part 12

Cassy stifled a yawn as she prepared to open the passenger side door and enter the solitude of her home. "So when do you want to meet up again?"

"I'm going to call Sterling and see if he has a time of death on Amanda Jacobs, then I'm going to hit the sack for a couple of hours. I figure the lab will have something on the fingerprints by this evening." Tom glanced down at his watch, "How about 8:00. That'll give us a few hours."

Cassy began exiting the vehicle and then stopped mid-motion, "God, I'm not thinking straight."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to be on your own."

"Oh, come on Cass." Tom frowned.

"The shooter. He could be waiting for you at your place. . .ready to ambush you."

Tom rolled his eyes, "Cass, I'm tellin' you, I don't think whoever has done this is after me. If he wanted to nail me he would have done a lot better job at it the last couple of opportunities he's had."

"I don't think we can take that chance." Cassy glanced at her house and then back at her partner. "Stay here with me. Please. I'd feel better if I knew you were safe."

"No. I want to go to my own home and sleep in my own bed." Tom answered.

"Fine, then we can waste thirty minutes driving to your place and I'll stay with you." Cassy settled into the passenger side and shut the door.

Tom shook his head. "You're joking, right." Cassy didn't answer. Tom started to protest once again, but Cassy turned pleading eyes on him. He could never resist those eyes. . .well, almost never. This was one of those times where resistance was futile. He turned off the engine and opened the driver's side door. "Okay. I suppose there'd be no harm in sticking together. . .at least until we have a few more leads on who's behind this."

Cassy smiled triumphantly, "It'll be like old times."

Tom perked up instantly, "Oh yeah?"

"Uh huh. You know. . .when we were fighting. You'll sleep on the couch and I'll sleep in the bed."

Cassy laughed as she watched her ex-husband's face fall.

**************************

"Blanket, pillow," Cassy inventoried the items she had placed on the couch. "Need anything else?"

"My bed?" Tom said with hope.

"We've been through that already," Cassy scolded.

"Your bed?" Tom grinned.

"We've been through that as well. Not going there again, Ryan." Cassy climbed the staircase to her bedroom. "I'll set the alarm for 7. That should give us time to get ready and get back in to the station."

Tom nodded his agreement. He heard Cassy shutting her bedroom door as he spread the blanket on the couch.

Before he could settle himself in for a few hours of desperately needed sleep, Tom dialed Sterling Morton's number. The phone was answered on the second ring.

"Medical Examiners." Tom instantly recognized Morton's voice.

"It's Tom. What do you have on our DB."

"TOD is set between 2:30 and 2:45. Cause was suffocation. She sustained bruising on the face and neck. She also had a broken rib. She's was definitely roughed up before the death."

"Signs of rape?"

"No. No sign of sexual assault."

"Thanks Morton. Anything on the fingerprints."

"Sorry. Lab's backed up and there were close to 30 usable prints found in the room. It could take a while to get everything run through."

"Great. If anything interesting pops up, let me know. I'm at Cassy's."

"Oh yeah?" Morton's voice teased.

"Trust me. We're both too exhausted to do anything about it, even if we wanted to."

"Have you seen Harry?" Morton changed subjects.

"Yeah, we stopped by a little while ago."

"How's he doing?"

"No change."

"And Frannie?"

"Don't know. Her sister had taken her home earlier. She's supposed to be back there later this evening."

"I'm going to stop by the hospital later. If she's there I'll see if there's anything she needs."

"Thanks Sterling. We just haven't had a chance to do much for her today."

"You're wrong, Tom. Finding who did this to Harry is the most important thing you can be doing for her. No one wants to see him in danger like this again."

"Yeah. . .right." Tom paused. "Thanks. Call if you get anything."

"Will do."

As Tom hung up the phone he collapsed on the couch. He kicked his shoes off and covered a yawn which took him by surprise. Peeling off his coat, he felt the added weight of Harry's journal still in the pocket. Pulling the small book out, he let the jacket fall to the floor. Tom stretched out on the couch, bringing stocking feet to rest on a throw pillow.

He flipped open the journal, fighting a brief twinge of guilt at the private thoughts he was invading. He justified his actions by reminding himself that the shooter turned killer was still on the loose and that the journal could still hold a motive. In all honesty, Tom also knew that he wanted to get to know the man better whom he had chosen to call 'friend'.

He tried to start at the beginning of the entries so that he could read each one in detail, rather than just skimming them as he had done with Cassy earlier. But reading Harry's thoughts was like reading a mystery novel and he had the overwhelming urge to flip to the end to see 'who dunnit'. But it wasn't the end that attracted him. It was something else. . .

Turning the pages to the last half of the journal, Tom found the page to which he had been drawn. He had skimmed the page earlier, the few words he had seen making an enormous emotional impact on him. However, with Cassy sitting across from him, he could not take the time to absorb the thoughts which were being revealed.

'I think this will be my last entry in this journal. I don't think I can face the pain these words will bring. The doctor's diagnosis has brought the fears back that I thought I had left behind when I made my final entry in the last one. I swore that I would never allow myself to get this close again. Losing one child was bad enough. Losing Chris reopened the wounds. But I've done it again. The pain I feel is the same as before. It's the same pain I felt when Frannie miscarried. The same pain when Chris died. I am losing another child.

'Then I look at her. She turns her pleading eyes on me, wanting desperately for me to fix the problem. . .to take her pain away. She wants me to protect her as a father would any daughter, as a husband does a wife. Those are Frannie's eyes. . .Rita's. But I don't have that power. I can't help. How do I tell them that I am powerless to change the tragedy? I am only a man.

'Cassy tells me of things that she regrets never having told Tom, like I am her father. . .her confessor. She tells me that she loves him, but can't live with him. That she needs him. . .that she is afraid of what life will be without him. I listen quietly, nodding. I know these things already. I've seen the love between them. Yes, there is arguing; yes, there is jealousy and immaturity, but there is more love than anything else. There is nothing that she is saying that wasn't apparent. And, no matter how well Cassy believes she has hidden these feelings, I know that Tom knows them too or at the very least, suspects.

'I read what I have written and have to fight the urge to tear the page away. But I won't. I can't. This, too, is a part of my life. I can't run away from it. But I can close the book on this chapter. It will be my final entry.'

Tom swiped harshly at the tears that had gathered in his eyes. He suddenly regretted having ever read Harry's thoughts. He had seen bits and pieces of the entry earlier. Harry's words had seemed flattering on the surface. He hadn't read all of the words, however. He hadn't digested the pain.

Now, reading each word had made him realize the impact that had been caused by the shooting. Tom knew that Cassy had been scared. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in her touch. But Harry had hidden his emotions. He had remained strong and authoritative. Tom had never suspected that Harry had come so close to giving up hope. . .that so many wounds had been reopened.

Tom flipped the page and smiled. 'I know I said that the previous entry would be my last, but prayers have been answered. Fears have been abated. The battle has been won. I watched as Cassy placed a hand on Tom's face and whispered that he was okay. . .that he was going to be okay and a weight lifted from my chest. If she can believe it. . .I can too. Yes, he is still in a coma, but the doctor has said there are signs that he is beginning to react to outside stimuli. There is hope where there was none before.'

Tom raised a hand to the back of his head. There was still a tender spot where the bullet and its fragments had been removed. His fingers could feel the outline of the scar that remained. The feeling of the scar and the slight pain it held reminded him of the pain Harry was suffering from now. It reminded him of how pale and lifeless his friend had looked. But there is hope. There is always hope. Harry's entries in the journal proved that.

Tom turned to the next page and found short entries about various matters. He mentioned Tom's recovery, Cassy's impatience with her temporary partner, Frannie's mother-henning. It was nice to see that Harry had returned to the friendly bantering about day-to-day life, rather than the gut-wrenching emotions that he had expressed only a few pages before.

As Tom skimmed through the pages, one short entry caught his eye. 'Kel called. He wanted to know why I broke my promise. I don't understand what he is talking about. I tried to calm him down and get him to tell me what was wrong, but it's apparent he's fallen off the wagon. I wish I knew what was bothering him."

Tom knew that 'Kel' had to refer to Kelvin Detmer. The reference to 'falling off the wagon' left little doubt. Why would Kelvin have contacted Harry. . .and what could possibly be the broken promise to which he referred?

End Part 12