To Know A Man

Part 14

While Cassy was getting ready, Tom contacted Chief Larkin about obtaining additional security for Harry and Craig. The Chief was, understandably, skeptical about Tom's theory but, in light of the circumstances, agreed that additional protection was a prudent decision.

Within an hour, the two detectives had returned to the station. Cassy went to personnel to obtain a photo of Detmer. Tom dialed Ellen O'Malley's cell phone number.

"O'Malley," the woman's sharp voice answered.

"Ellen, it's Tom. Where are you two at?"

"We're still an hour out of Jacksonville. Why?"

"We may have a lead at our end."

"What?" the woman sounded startled.

"There's a chance that Kelvin Detmer is behind this."

"Detmer? You mean the guy who was kicked off the force for attacking that nun?"

"Yeah. He made a couple of phone calls to Harry and Craig Alexander within the past week."

"So?" The woman prodded for more information.

"He blamed them for some things that have been going wrong in his life."

"I don't understand."

Tom sighed, "Look, there's no time to go into all the details now. Trust me. There's a good chance that he's the guy we're looking for. While you're in Jacksonville see if you can find any leads about where he might be hanging out in Palm."

"And where do you expect us to find those leads?"

"Well, if my hunch is right, I'll bet you'll find some leads at Amanda Jacobs' place and check the local rehab center. Detmer was getting help there. They might know how to find him."

"And if we come up with something?" Ellen asked, still sounding perplexed.

"Call us. Cassy and I are going to go to his old hangouts and see if anyone has seen him."

"Okay. We'll do this your way, Ryan. But we want a complete explanation later."

"You'll get it." As Tom hung up the phone, Cassy tossed a photo on the desk. It was a picture of Kelvin Detmer taken a few years before.

"Did you know he was awarded the Mayor's citation for bravery?" Cassy asked her partner.

"Yeah. He saved the life of a teller taken hostage in a bank robbery."

"Was this before his wife left him?"

"No, after. Rumor was he was being reckless. . .self-destructive. But the Mayor wanted him recognized for putting his life on the line."

Cassy shook her head. "So where do we start?"

"I want to see if Harry happened to make any other notes about the phone call." Tom rose from his chair and entered Harry's office. The desk was as they had left it earlier.

Tom sat down in Harry's chair and thumbed through the papers and notes on the desk. There was no record of the call. "He may not have taken any notes," Cassy reasoned.

"Harry's always writing notes about phone calls. I can't believe he wouldn't keep some record of this."

"The journal may be it."

"Yeah, I suppose." Tom was silent for a moment. He closed his eyes, lost in thought. Just as Cassy was going to check if he was still awake, his eyes came open, "Maybe he didn't take the call in the office."

"At home?"

"Yeah. If he did, Frannie might have known about it." Tom grabbed the phone and dialed the Lipschitz's home number. On the third ring, the answering machine picked up the call. After listening to Harry's greeting, Tom started speaking, "Frannie, are you there? It's Tom." He waited for a response. A few seconds later, the phone was answered. Frannie's tired voice came over the line, "Tom?"

"Hi Frannie. The hospital said you had gone home. I'm glad I caught you."

"Is something wrong?"

"No. . .no, Frannie. Cassy and I may have a lead on the shooting, though."

He could hear a small gasp on the other end. "You know who did it?"

"Maybe. We're still investigating."

"Is it someone after you two?"

Tom paused for a moment suddenly worried about the impact of the information he would be providing the concerned wife. "No. We think that Harry was the target the whole time. . .as was Craig earlier today."

Frannie's gasp concerned the detective, "Frannie? Are you okay?"

He was greeted with silence, then her quivering voice returned, "Yes. Who would want to hurt Harry, Tom? Who would do this to him?"

"Frannie, listen to me for a moment. I need you to answer a question for me."

"O. . .Okay."

"Did Harry mention receiving a call from Kelvin Detmer recently. . .like within the last week?"

"Kelvin? Is that who did this?" Tom could hear the woman's fury rising.

"Frannie, please. Did Harry mention it to you?"

"Mention it? I was here when he called. It was last Sunday. We were just getting ready to go to bed." Frannie's voice had raised in tone. "He was drunk. He. . .he shouted and cursed at Harry. Then he hung up."

"Did he tell Harry where he was?"

"No. . .I don’t think so." Tom's heart sank. There would be no lead to follow if that were the case. "But we have caller i.d.," Frannie continued. She was silent for a moment. "Here. . .here is a number I don't recognize."

"What is it?"

"Mike's Place. What's that?"

"That's it, Frannie!," Tom answered excitedly. "It's a bar downtown. Detmer used to hang out there."

"It'll help?" The older woman asked, matching Tom's tone.

"Yes. That'll help. Take care of Harry. Cassy and I will take care of the rest."

"Tom? You two be careful, Honey. I don't want either of you hurt trying to help Harry."

"We'll be careful. Promise." Tom hung up the phone and turned to Cassy. "We've got him. Let's go."

End Part 14

To Know A Man

Part 15

"What'll you have?" the bartender asked gruffly. Tom and Cassy had to squint to see through the haze of smoke and dim lighting. The room was stuffy and Tom was instantly grateful that he had convinced Cassy against wearing the uncomfortable bulletproof vests any longer. Now that they were relatively sure of the identity of the shooter and his targets, the extra precaution of the vests seemed unnecessary.

"Nothing. We just need some information," Tom said to the heavy-set, balding man. Reaching in his back pocket he removed his badge and identification.

"Sorry, but information doesn't pay the rent," the man turned his back on the detectives and walked to the other end of the bar.

Cassy elbowed Tom. Tom frowned at his blond partner and then in resignation dug in his pocket for his wallet. Pulling out a twenty he pounded his knuckles on the countertop to regain the barman's attention. "It can this time."

The man returned to the couple and grabbed the bill out of Tom's hands before the cop could change his mind. "That'll help."

"Are you Mike?" Tom asked, as he gestured to the 'Mike's Place' neon sign behind the bar.

"Nope. Mike doesn't work shifts anymore."

"We're looking for this man." Cassy held up the photo of Kelvin Detmer. "Have you seen him?"

The barman gave no more than a glance to the picture and then shrugged his shoulders. "Everyone starts to look a like after awhile. I might have seen him. Why?" He tossed the photo back down on the counter.

"Recently?" Tom pressed.

"Maybe. Why?" the bartender repeated.

Cassy handed the man a slip of paper, ignoring his inquiry. "Is this your phone number?" She pointed to the phone at the corner of the bar. The bartender nodded in response. "The man in the photo would have used this phone last Sunday. Now do you remember him?"

"What's he done?"

Tom said nothing for a moment, debating on whether it was prudent to divulge suspicions. Finally he responded, "He might have been involved in the shooting of a police officer last night."

Tom half-expected the bartender to scoff at the information and clam up completely. A lackadaisical attitude about a cop being gunned down was not uncommon. But the information seemed to spark the man. He grabbed the photo from the counter, finally nodding, "Yeah. . .Detmer's been here."

"You know his name?" Tom couldn't contain the surprise in his voice.

"I've known him for years."

"And you didn't instantly recognized him?" Cassy pointed out in frustration.

"I didn't realize he. . ." the man started to explain and then stopped.

"What?"

"You think he was involved in shooting Harry?"

"You know Harry?" Tom asked incredulously.

"From The Billy Club. Used to work there years ago. Detmer used to come in there too."

"When was the last time Detmer was here?" Cassy asked, trying to contain her excitement at the lead.

"Earlier today. He came in for a drink. He made a phone call. . .was really pissed about something."

"When did he leave here," Tom looked at Cassy, knowing that the answer to this question could provide a solution to Amanda Jacobs' death as well as Harry's shooting.

"It must have been sometime before 2:00 or so. He made the phone call, hung up and stormed out. Don’t know what happened."

"You have any idea where we can find him?"

"Nope." The heavy-set man handed the photo back to Cassy.

"Nothing? He didn't happen to mention where he was staying?" Cassy prodded.

The bartender thought for a moment. He then turned to the counter under his cash register and opened the drawer. Thumbing inside he removed a pen and tossed it at the detectives, "He left this here. Maybe it'll help."

Cassy caught the pen and turned it to look at the logo, "The Royal. That's just a couple of blocks from here."

"Thanks," Tom said to the bartender and the two detectives turned to leave the dark, smoke-filled building. "We appreciate the help."

"Is Lipschitz going to be okay?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, "Don't know."

Within minutes, Tom and Cassy had parked the car in front of the old Royal Hotel. In its heyday, the Royal served the most affluent of Palm Beach. The passage of time had not been kind, however, and over the years the structure had fallen into disrepair.

Tom held open the lobby door for his partner and followed her to the front desk. There was no one attending it and Tom brought his hand down on the bell to ring for assistance. A few seconds later, an elderly man came out of the back room, newspaper in hand. He eyed the newcomers suspiciously. Before either detective could speak, the man grumbled, "So who you lookin' for and what have they done?"

Tom smiled at the clerk's words. He flashed his badge at the man as Cassy pulled out Detmer's photo and held it up. "Seen him around?"

The man shrugged, "I was paid $50 to keep quiet."

Cassy elbowed Tom. Tom again gave the woman a frustrated look, already suffering from the earlier $20 loss. He begrudgingly pulled $70 out of his wallet. "Will this persuade you to change your mind?"

The man frowned at the offering. Tom scowled, "Let's put it this way. Either this changes your mind or I get a warrant and five patrol cars to do a search of the premises. Your choice."

The man snagged the money and muttered, "400. Fourth floor, end of the hall."

"Is he there?" Tom pressed.

The man shrugged, "Probably. I saw him come in a couple of hours ago. Don't think he's left."

"Any other way out of here?" Cassy asked.

"Only down the fire escape."

Tom handed the car keys to Cassy, "I'll take the front. Move the car to the back and call for backup. Watch the fire escape." Cassy nodded in agreement and made her way to the front door of the hotel, adding on her way out, "Don't jump the gun, Ryan. Give me five minutes to get in place."

Tom nodded and headed for the elevator. Before he could push the button, the clerk growled, "It's out of order. Have to use the stairs."

Tom inwardly groaned at the thought of climbing the four flights of stairs, but having no choice, started up. Each step creaked with age. As he climbed he realized his legs felt like hundred pound weights. He had been up for over 32 hours with no sleep and his body was starting to give out on him. Reminding his tired mind that, with luck, this nightmare could be over soon, he pushed himself to keep going. Thoughts of Harry's still form in the hospital bed gave his efforts purpose.

Reaching the fourth floor, he glanced at his watch. It had taken him over a minute and a half to climb the four floors of stairs. "That's pathetic, Ryan," he mumbled to himself.

Pulling his gun from its holster, the detective walked as quietly as he could down the hallway, passing several darkened rooms. Tom looked at his watch again. He would need to wait at least three more minutes before Cassy was in place.

Tom stopped a few feet from Detmer's room and leaned against the wall, mustering up his strength, praying that adrenaline would carry him through the raid. Taking a deep breath, the detective pushed himself from the wall and prepared to take up position by the door. Before he could make his move, he felt a solid object press into his lower back. "Nice to see you again, Ryan," Kelvin Detmer's voice whispered from behind.

End Part 15

To Know A Man

Part 16

"Drop the gun, Ryan," the familiar voice ordered.

Tom weighed his options. There were none. The gun thudded against the floor. "How did you know?" Tom asked the armed man. The pressure from the gun's muzzle in his back pushed him forward towards Detmer's room. The gun remained in its place as Tom heard the man reach down to pick up Tom's surrendered weapon.

"Greed. I paid the clerk $50 to keep quiet and $100 to let me know if anyone came looking for me." Tom could hear the smugness in the ex-police officer's voice. "Inside."

Tom opened the door and stepped into the small room. There was a small closet on the left, a bathroom on the right. Liquor bottles cluttered the nightstand next to the unmade bed, the stench of their odors filling the room.

Detmer's hand shot out and pushed Tom forward. Tom thought it would be an opportunity to distance himself from the man, but Detmer grabbed on to the back of Tom's jacket collar and held him at arm's length. He pushed Tom over to the window on the opposite side of the room, using the detective's body to shield him as he surveyed the alleyway below. "Where's St. John? I saw her out there. Where'd she go?"

"She called in for backup, Kelvin. In a few minutes this building is going to be swarming with cops. . .all gunning for you. Give it up and turn yourself in. No one else has to get hurt. . .including you." By the smell of liquor on Kelvin's breath, Tom doubted that the sound advice he was providing would have an impact on the man.

"Yeah. . .right. You don't get, Ryan. It's over. No more," the man mumbled from behind, making sure that his gun never wavered from its spot against his hostage's spine. "I have nothing left to lose. I've lost. . .lost it all. Everything. There's nothing more."

Tom could feel the weight of Harry's journal still in his jacket pocket. He remembered the confusion in Harry's words. . .the lack of understanding at why Kelvin Detmer was so angry. "Why, Kelvin? Why did you do this? Why shoot Harry? He was your friend," Tom stalled, knowing that Cassy would bring the backup to him if he could get her enough time.

"Friend? Harry?" the man scoffed cruelly. "What kind of friend abandons you and then sabotages your attempt to recover? Huh? What kind of friend lies to your face just to watch you fail." Detmer's voice became enraged. "Harry promised to help me. . .promised not to. . .to tell. Instead he. . .he was no better than that bastard Alexander."

Tom felt Detmer's gun leave his back. Slowly the detective turned around so that he could stand face to face with his captor.

"Harry never tried to hurt you Kelvin. He tried to help. In fact, you were the one from the beginning who betrayed him. You betrayed his friendship, his trust. . .hell, you put a damn contract out on his life. You call that friendship?" Tom's words seemed to have some impact on Kelvin. The gun in his captor's hand started to tremble. "And after all of that, he still forgave you. He let you leave the city so that you could start a new life. And you pay back his loyalty. . .his friendship by shooting him?"

"No!" Kelvin shouted, and the gun raised back up in alignment with Tom's chest. "No, he set me up. He said he wouldn't tell. . .that what happened would never go into my file. He lied. They found out. . .I lost everything I cared about."

"And what you didn't lose, you destroyed," Tom muttered.

Detmer frowned at the cop's words. Tom continued, "Amanda Jacobs? You killed her."

"She left me. . .betrayed me."

Tom shook his head, "You did it to yourself, Kelvin. Look at you. . .you are a drunken, pathetic fool. You had every chance in the world for a good life and you blew it. It's no one's fault but your own."

"No. . .," Kelvin denied furious at the other man's words. His hands shook from raw rage. Tom decided then to make his move. Lowering his head, the detective rammed the ex-cop and tackled him to the floor. The gun flew from Detmer's hand. Tom scrambled and grabbed the weapon, preparing to take aim on the murderer. As he turned, weapon raised, Detmer bellowed, "DON'T!"

"Freeze, Kelvin!" Cassy shouted as she flew into the room from the darkened bathroom, gun aimed at the crazed man.

Tom saw Detmer now held his weapon. The aim of the handgun changed directions from Tom to Cassy. Tom raised Detmer's weapon, which he now had in his possession, to take aim on the murderer, "Detmer, drop it!" Detmer ignored the warning and pulled back on the trigger of the gun. Three explosions echoed deafeningly through the small room at one time. The force of Tom and Cassy's bullets hitting Detmer's body threw him into the corner of the room. His lifeless body slid to the floor.

Tom glanced at the man. His eyes were open, but were glazed over. Blood stained his chest and his side. There was no doubt he was dead.

Tom looked towards the spot where Cassy had stood; it was empty. His heart dropped to his stomach, "Cass?" He stood quickly and made his way to the other side of the bed. Cassy, too, was lying on the floor, her back facing towards Tom. Panicked, Tom dropped to the floor next to her, "Cass?" he repeated, slowing rolling her onto her back. Her open eyes made contact with him. A brief smile flashed across her face and then changed to a grimace. Tom could see a red spot of blood growing on her left side. "Damn that smarts," she muttered.

Tom closed his eyes saying a prayer. "Don't scare me like that."

"You're one to talk," she muttered to her partner. "Did we get him?"

Tom nodded, "He's dead." He lifted the bottom of her blouse to examine the wound. "It's not too bad. . .it only creased you."

"Damn. . .I didn't mean to kill him." Cassy whispered as she struggled for a sitting position. Tom thought about pushing her back to the floor, but when Cassy wanted to do something, nothing stood in her way.

"He brought it on himself, Cass." Tom quieted her as he propped her back against the wall. The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway.

"We're about to have company," Tom smiled. "I'd better go tell them things are under control."

Cassy nodded and bit her lip, pushing down the burning pain in her side. Tom opened the door and found himself facing three uniformed officers with guns drawn. He immediately recognized all three. "It's okay. We're clear. We need an ambulance and the M.E." Patterson, the officer furthest behind, nodded and pulled out his radio. The other two, DeMarco and Pierce, stepped into the room, saw Cassy sitting quietly against the wall, holding a hand over her bleeding wound. They then saw the still form of Kelvin Detmer lying on the opposite side of the bed.

"You got him?"

Tom nodded, "Yeah. . .it's over."

Tom motioned to his gun lying on the floor next to Detmer's body. "His prints are on my gun. I shot him in the side with his." He handed over Detmer's weapon. He then pointed to Cassy's gun. "She shot him in the chest."

The officers nodded and began taking notes and searching the room. Tom turned to Cassy and found her still sitting against the wall with her eyes now closed. Her body had listed slightly sideways. Moving to sit next to her on her right side, he propped her up with his own body, allowing her to rest against him. Bringing his arm protectively around her, avoiding the injury, he whispered in her ear, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she whispered back, opening her eyes again.

"How did you know?"

"I saw Detmer start out the window to the fire escape. He saw me and then climbed back into the room. I figured he'd been tipped off by the clerk and was heading out the front towards you. I knew I couldn't warn you in time, so I decided to come into the room through the fire escape. Thank God he didn't have the presence of mind to lock the window behind him." She grimaced as the pain flared up again.

Tom pulled her closer to his side, wishing he could do more to ease her suffering.

"You okay?"

Cassy nodded, "Yeah."

"The ambulance will be here soon," Patterson commented. As if cued, the sound of a siren could be heard approaching. A whistle came from DeMarco, who was searching the closet. With a gloved hand he pulled out a rifle. A laser-sighted scope was attached. "Nice piece," he commented.

"I think we'll find that weapon was used to gun down Captain Lipschitz last night and was used in the shooting at the station this afternoon," Tom commented. The officer nodded and placed the weapon on the bed next to the others.

Trying to take her mind off her discomfort, Cassy continued with the story, "When I got to the room I could see Detmer wasn't here. So I climbed in and decided to go out into the hall. I thought we might be able to trap him between us. I wasn't fast enough. I heard the door start to open. . .and I heard your voice. I knew he got the drop on you."

"So you hid in the bathroom," Tom completed.

Cassy nodded. More footsteps could be heard coming from the hallway and two paramedics entered the room. One went to Detmer's body, the other approached Cassy. Tom climbed from the floor to give the man room to work on his partner.

The detective listened as the medic examined Cassy, questioning her about the injury and the pain it was causing. His eyes drifted around the room, wandering from the unmade bed, to the empty liquor bottles on the table, to the weapons which had been gathered and were now lying on the bed, to the motionless body of the man who had started this horror story. "What a waste," he muttered to himself, sitting heavily on the bed. Dropping his head down into his hands, he closed his eyes. "What a damn waste."

End Part 16

To Know A Man

To Know A Man

Part 17

Tom road with Cassy in the ambulance. He told her it was because he was too tired to drive the car back to the hospital. In reality, he didn't want to leave her side. DeMarco offered to bring their car to the hospital later.

The woman was strapped to a gurney and grimaced slightly every time the ambulance hit a bump or made a turn. The paramedic on the opposite side of her monitored her condition to make sure she was stable. Tom reached out and took her hand in his, grasping it, trying to give her extra strength, and taking reassurance in the fact that she was alive.

"You know, this is your fault," Cassy muttered. The blond woman snorted at the look of sudden guilt crossing her partner's face. "Not only do I get shot trying to save your butt, but I get shot while I'm not wearing my vest. And why did I take it off?"

Tom's look of guilt turned to one of confusion. He was certain that Cassy's complaint was referring to how Tom allowed Detmer to take him captive in the hallway. Then the confusion left his face and was replaced by indignation, "Excuse me, but the decision not to wear the vest was yours and yours alone. You're a big girl."

"Yeah right. Did you really think I was going to take the time to put on a vest after the fuss you put up?" She smiled and winked at the man.

Tom shook his head and leaned back against the side panel of the ambulance, "You are unbelievable, Cass. You never listen to me any other time, why would your start now?"

Within minutes, the ambulance had pulled into the hospital and the patient was delivered to the emergency room. Tom completed the admission papers and then made his way back to the treatment room. His mind wandered to the previous night when he, Cassy and Frannie were waiting for word on Harry. It was hard to believe that those events had been less than twenty-four hours ago. He started to enter the room, but was met at the doorway by a nurse, "I'm sorry, Sir, but the doctor is still with her."

"She's my partner," he commented.

Cassy heard his voice and pushed the doctor to the side so she could make eye contact. "Tom, go find out about Harry, please. I want to know that he's still okay."

Tom nodded, fighting the urge to stay by his ex-wife's side. Turning, he exited the room and made his way to ICU.

Leaving the elevator, Tom glanced in the waiting room. It was empty. He proceeded to the nurses' station. The nurse at the counter recognized him from his visit a few hours before and motioned to Harry's room. "Mrs. Lipschitz is with her husband."

Two uniformed officers now guarded Harry's door. As they saw Tom approach they smiled. The dark haired one commented, "Heard you nailed Detmer." His name badge said Roth.

Tom nodded, saddened by the turn of events. "He didn't leave us any choice."

Frannie heard the young man's voice and left her husband's side, "Tom. . .you're okay. I heard. . .I heard that Kelvin's dead. . .and that an officer was down." Tom nodded and the woman closed her eyes. Then her eyes opened suddenly, realizing that the man was without his partner. "Oh God, no. . .Cassy?"

"Cassy was shot. . .but she's okay. She's in the emergency room right now. I don't think it's too serious."

Frannie breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed against the young detective. Tom brought his arms around her, "It's over, Frannie. Detmer can't hurt Harry any more."

The petite woman couldn't contain her emotions any longer, wet tears slid down her face, soaking Tom's shirt. "But it's not over Tom. . .not for Harry."

Tom glanced into the room, watching his captain's lifeless features. The only motion from his body was the subtle rise and fall of his chest as the respirator pumped air into his lungs. He held Harry's wife close to him, "I know, Frannie. I know."

Tom returned to the emergency room to check on Cassy. He had spent the past hour with Frannie. During that time Dr. Klinger had met with them. He had confirmed that Harry's surgery was still scheduled for early the next morning. Harry's life signs had stabilized and the probability for success was good.

Tom tried to convince Frannie to go back home and get a good night's rest, but to no avail. The woman insisted upon staying by her husband's side. So instead, Tom decided it was time to start fighting the battle waiting for him in the ER. He was certain that Cassy would want to stay at the hospital through the night until Harry's surgery was completed in the morning, but he also knew that she needed her rest, especially after her own injury. Tom sighed. He needed rest as well. He was dead on his feet, halfway afraid that if he stayed in one place for too long he would drop off to sleep and not awaken again until morning. He knew that he must have looked bad when Frannie warned Tom that she didn't want to see either detective back at the hospital until the next morning.

Pushing himself, he entered the treatment room and found Cassy sitting up. The doctor was handing her two prescriptions. "So how are we doing in here?" Tom asked.

"I'm fine," Cassy responded quickly. "How's Harry?"

"She's going to be fine," the doctor interrupted, "after she gets about twelve hours of sleep. She fell asleep while I was putting the stitches in. When I asked her about it, she said she'd been awake for over a day and a half. She needs rest. Take her home. I've given her a prescription for the pain and an antibiotic. Make sure she takes both." He approached Tom and peered into the detective's hazel eyes. "Damn, you look as bad as she does. Get some sleep yourself. . .doctor's orders." The doctor shook his head and left the room.

Cassy moved to slide herself off of the treatment table. Tom reached out to steady her. Once he was certain she was safely balanced, he pulled his jacket off and slid it over her shoulders. "Let's get you out of here."

"No, I want to see Harry."

"Nope. . .not this time, St. John. I'm under orders to get you home and I'm not going to disobey them."

"You're going to let the doctor tell you what to do?"

"Not the doctor, Cass. . .Frannie. She ordered me to take you home and not show back up to the hospital until tomorrow morning. She'll call us if anything happens with Harry tonight."

"But. . ."

"No. . .no buts, Partner. You are under orders. . .so am I."

Tom helped Cassy up the stairs to her bedroom. He assisted her removing what was left of her blood-stained blouse and her slacks. With the injury to her side trying to undress herself was difficult and she was grateful for her ex-husband's assistance. When she was undressed, he helped slip a nightgown over her head, being careful to avoid contact with the stitches on her side, just above her pelvis. Then he held the covers back and allowed her to slip under the sheets. Gingerly, she settled her head against the pillow.

Tom left the room and returned within minutes with a glass of water and two tablets. "Take these."

Cassy sat up slightly and downed the medication. Collapsing back down against the pillow, she smiled at her partner, "Thanks."

"No problem. It's the least I could do."

He rose from the bed and made his way to the door. "Get some sleep. I'll be down on the couch if you need me." He started to close the door behind him.

"Tom wait," Cassy's voice stopped him. "Don't go." Tom turned, his tired hazel eyes wide with surprise. Cassy motioned to the other side of her bed, "You can sleep up here."

"That's okay, Cass. . ."

"No, please. I want you to stay," she smiled. "It'll be like old times. . ."

Tom looked at her skeptically, but he made his way to the opposite side of the bed, kicked off his shoes, pulled up the sheet and moved underneath of it. He felt Cassy's warm body next to him. He brought his arm around her.

"Old times, huh?" Tom muttered.

"Yeah. . .after we fought. . .and after we made up." Cassy whispered. Tom chuckled and closed his eyes, enjoying the nearness of the woman he used to call his wife. Within seconds, the ex-lovers had fallen into slumber.

End Part 17

To Know A Man

Conclusion

The harsh ringing of the phone roused Tom. Disoriented, he opened his eyes to blinding sunlight. Cassy stirred beside him. Fighting down a moment of confusion and panic at the thought of sharing a bed with the woman, he remembered the circumstances which had led to this point.

The phone rang again. Tom reached out to the bedside table and answered it, "St. John residence."

"Tom? It's Frannie." Tom's eyes widened in horror upon hearing the woman's voice. "What? Frannie? Has something happened to Harry?"

"He's out of surgery, Tom. I just wanted to let you know that the doctor said everything was okay. . .he's going to be okay."

Tom could hear the tears of joy in the woman's words, "Out of surgery?" Tom's mind was confused once again. "What time is it?" As he asked the question as he tried to focus his eyes on his watch. "

"It's 10:30, Tom."

"In the morning?"

"Yes, Honey."

"Oh, Frannie, I'm so sorry. We fell asleep and didn't set the alarm. We didn't realize how late it was."

"It's okay, Tom. Really, it's okay. I figured that's what happened. It was more important that you two get some rest. There was nothing you could do here."

"We could have been with you."

"My sister was here with me. It's okay."

"I'll be down in a little bit."

"You don't have to, Tom."

"I want to, Frannie. Thanks for calling. See you in a little while."

Tom hung up the phone and climbed out of bed, trying not to disturb Cassy. The effort was in vain. "Harry's okay?" Cassy's voice was filled with exhaustion.

"Yeah. . .He's out of surgery."

"We missed it?"

Tom nodded, eyes full of regret, "Yeah. . .slept right through it."

Cassy started to sit up, then groaned in pain, "Oh God, it's sore."

Tom went to her side, "I'll get you a pain pill."

"No. . .it'll make me too drowsy. I want to go see Harry."

Tom shook his head, "No. You stay here. Get some rest. I'm going to run home, change clothes and then I'll go to the hospital and make sure he and Frannie are doing okay. I'll come back here and tell you how things are going when I'm done.

Cassy started to protest, but her partner's finger came to rest across her lips, silencing her, "No Cassy. Stay here."

Cassy fell back against the pillow in exhaustion. "Okay. . .I'll stay. But you promise to come back here and tell me how Harry's doing."

"I promise," Tom placed a light kiss on her forehead and tucked the sheet back up around her.

Three hours later, Tom sat in Harry's office, the journal resting on the desk in front of him. He had spent the past two hours with Frannie. The woman was tired, but visibly relieved by her husband's progress.

Dr. Klinger had reassured her that the bullet had been removed, damage to the area near the heart had been repaired, and the injured man was now on his way to making a complete recovery. Frannie had been the only person allowed to visit Harry in Recovery. Later, he would be moved to ICU. Frannie wanted to stay until her husband had been settled in, but the doctor had ordered Tom to take the woman and her sister home so that they could catch up on much needed sleep.

After leaving Frannie at her home in the care of her sister, Tom sat in the car, unable to decide where to go first. He knew he should check on Cassy, but his hand had made contact with the journal he was still carrying in his jacket. Pulling out his cell phone he made a quick phone call to his injured partner, updating her on Harry's post-operative condition. He also confirmed to his satisfaction that the woman was doing fine on her own. Taking a deep breath he now knew that he had to return the journal to its proper place before going back to his partner. Putting the car into gear, he turned it in the direction of the precinct.

Only Cassy knew that Tom had been carrying the book for the past twenty four hours. . .that he had been privy to his captain's deepest thoughts. Tom took a deep breath and opened the bottom right hand drawer of the desk and slipped the journal back inside. He shut the drawer and brought his elbows to rest on top of the desk, cupping his chin in his hands.

Closing his eyes, he thought about all he had learned of the man whom he called captain and friend. Harry Lipschitz was a complex, emotional man. His words were a reflection of feelings that he kept hidden from the outside world and Tom had become a confidant to them, without Harry's consent. There had been no choice. The invasion of those thoughts had led to saving the lives of two men.

The words in the journal had touched his soul. Harry's confessions of pain had hit the younger man hard. He had never suspected that the captain had held such depth of emotion for him and he was certain that this was something that he was never supposed to know. However, Tom would never forget what he read. He couldn't. But what he could do was ensure that Harry's thoughts would remain private. He would never divulge them to another. He would never let Harry know what he had seen.

A knock on Harry's door startled him. Ellen O'Malley and Vic Gibson waited for him to motion them into the office. Opening the door they entered and plopped down in the visitors' chairs across from Tom. Ellen smiled at the tired detective, "Well, we said we wanted a full explanation, but I guess it's a little late now."

Tom nodded, "Yeah, I guess so."

"Is Cassy okay?" Vic asked.

Tom nodded, "Yeah. She's at home resting. I'm going to go check on her after I leave here."

"We heard that Harry's out of surgery and he's going to be okay," Ellen smiled.

Tom nodded again, "Yeah. I think it's over."

"We saw Alexander this morning. He sends his thanks," Vic added.

Tom leaned back in the chair and stretched, "What did you find out in Jacksonville?"

Ellen spoke first. "Detmer had been living with Jacobs for the past year. She was a nurse at the rehab center. We talked to a friend of hers at the clinic. She said that Amanda had grown suspicious that Detmer was drinking again. She had mentioned to the friend that he had become angry and violent. We think that's why she took off."

"Why to Palm Beach?" Tom asked curiously.

"I think she came here to warn Harry and Craig about Kelvin," Vic guessed.

"How'd Kelvin find her?"

Ellen shook her head. "You won't believe it. There was a message on the answering machine from her credit card company. Apparently Kelvin had notified them that Amanda's card might have been stolen and that if it was used the company should call for verification of the purchase. Amanda used the card to pay for the hotel room. The company called Amanda's house and left the name of the hotel where it was used on the answering machine. We think Detmer retrieved the message and knew exactly where Amanda was staying."

"Then that was the call he made from the bar yesterday," Tom concluded.

Vic frowned, "I just can't believe that the man went off the deep-end like that. I mean he was a cop for Godsake."

Tom was silent for a long time, "The one thing this case has taught me is that no matter how well you think you know a man you never truly know who he is. . .what he is thinking. . .or feeling." He stood up from the desk and made his way to the door. Vic and Ellen followed him out. Tom reached behind, turned off the office light and shut the door. "And you know what?" Vic and Ellen turned, waiting for Tom, "Maybe it's better that way."

The End