Reckless

Part 20

Cassy flipped the visor mirror down and examined her appearance. Her mom had been right, she looked terrible. But in her haste to get to the hospital and see Tom, she had failed to bring her purse.

"I have some powder and lipstick in my purse if you want to use it." Without taking her attention from her driving, Frannie reached down and grabbed her handbag from the floorboard. She handed it to Cassy. "They're in the side pocket."

Cassy gave the woman a sweet smile. "Thanks. . .for everything."

Frannie laughed. "Sorry I had to play so rough. You were being right down difficult."

"Guess I have more of my mother in me than I thought."

Frannie's laugh stopped and her eyes widened in shock. "Honey, don't you ever say that. You have nothing of your mother in you."

Cassy was silent for a moment then she shrugged. "Sometimes I'm not so sure about that."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, you were the one to mention self-pity," Cassy tried to make the words light, but the pain in her face betrayed her.

Frannie glanced at the woman and then turned her eyes back to the road. "There is a huge difference between what you were doing and your mother. You were caught up in an emotional upheaval. . .an upheaval you couldn't forgive yourself for. However, you had the strength to see past it and focus on others. Your mother. . .well. . .," Frannie paused.

"She'll never change," Cassy completed.

"It's more than that, Cassy. Your mother doesn't want to change. In her mind all of her problems are because of someone else's betrayal, not because of her own actions."

Cassy nodded in agreement, but said nothing.

Frannie guided Cassy to the side entrance of the hospital. She had seen several local television station vans parked in the front lot and knew there was only one reason for their presence. Cassy couldn't handle a confrontation with the press, not after everything else that had happened.

They made it safely past the reporters and to ICU. Frannie could feel the tension building in Cassy as they drew closer to the waiting room for that floor.

Suddenly the younger woman stopped. "I can't," she whispered.

Frannie, surprised to find Cassy no longer at her side, stopped and turned. "Honey, I know this will be difficult, but you need to do this."

"I. . .I don't think I can face them."

Frannie drew herself to her full height. "Cassandra, you have no choice. You owe it to them. You owe it to Tom."

Cassy absorbed the words and then nodded her head. "I can do this," she committed.

Frannie took her by the hand and led her into the room. Lyam and Margaret were sitting on the couch. Lyam was reading a sports magazine, Margaret, a large novel.

Upon hearing the footsteps of new arrivals, both looked up. Cassy was dreading the look of disappointment she halfway expected to see. Instead, she saw a flash of surprise and then. . .

"Cassy, honey. I'm so glad you're here," Margaret said as she rose from the couch, breaking into Cassy's thoughts.

Tom's mother pulled her into a hug. Cassy tensed and then relaxed in the woman's arms. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I'm sorry I ran out on you this morning. . .that I wasn't here last night."

Lyam was now standing behind his wife. He placed a caring hand on Cassy's shoulder. "It's okay. We know how difficult this must be for you."

Cassy couldn't help the sigh which passed her lips. It represented a mixture of relief and disbelief. "I should be saying that to you. I should have been here for you. . .I should have been here for Tom."

"You're here now. That's all that matters, Kiddo," Lyam smiled.

Cassy nodded and smiled, finding herself warmed by the love from Tom's parents.

Frannie Lipschitz stood back, looking on with satisfaction.

Harry sat in his car, unable to believe the brief confrontation he had just experienced with Evelyn St. John.

Only minutes before he had pulled in front of Cassy's house. He saw Evelyn walking down the front sidewalk, a suitcase in hand.

"Harry," the woman said flatly.

"I'm looking for Cassy," Harry responded, dispensing with the niceties.

"She's not here." Evelyn walked past the man and opened the door to the back seat of her car. She flung her suitcase inside and slammed the door closed.

"Do you mind telling me where she went?" Harry asked, trying to remain calm despite the woman's irritating behavior.

Evelyn didn't answer his question for a moment. Instead she moved to the driver's side door. "Ask your wife," the woman finally stated as she climbed inside the vehicle.

"Frannie? Where did they go?"

Evelyn started the engine and put the car into reverse.

"Where are you going?" the Captain asked.

"It's obvious my daughter doesn’t need me around while she has your wife." Evelyn couldn't hide the bitter tone in her voice.

She backed down the driveway. The glare in her eyes told Harry that there would be no answers for his questions.

So now he was alone in his car in front of Cassy's house. If Frannie had taken Cassy with her, then there was no doubt she had taken the detective to the hospital. Frannie would have no more patience for Cassy's behavior than he. Smiling to himself, he pointed his car in the direction of the hospital.

The sound of the heart monitor echoed through the room, beating a slow, steady rhythm. She had heard that sound before. It was comforting and terrifying at the same time. Every beat meant Tom lived. And every beat might be the last.

She shook off the fear and approached her partner's bedside. His eyes were closed, but the lids fluttered slightly, indicating some thought pattern was playing through his subconscious mind.

Her hand drifted to his cheek. It felt cool to the touch. She said a silent prayer of thanks, knowing by the contact that the fever had broken. She slid the bedside chair closer and sat down. Leaning forward, she let her hand touch his, being careful to avoid contact with IV needle which pierced his wrist.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here for you last night," she whispered. "I. . .I had some things I needed to figure out." She sat silently for a moment and then felt regret build from her words. "That's a lie," she confessed. "I was afraid. I was afraid to face your parents. . .I was afraid to face you. . .To see what I've done. . .the pain I've caused." Saying the words seemed to absolve some of the guilt. . .but not all of it, certainly not all.

"I should have listened to you. You told me to wait. I didn't listen. I never listen." She pushed herself from the chair and walked to the end of the bed. Her eyes focused on the unresponsive face before her. Turning away, she crossed her arms as if she could block out the pain of seeing her best friend, her former lover, helpless.

"Jane Wayne," she muttered. "You were the one to call me that first. You remember? The Saunders case, wasn't it? Yeah. . .that was it. We butted heads over and over again. Actually, I have a feeling that was the nicest thing you called me during that investigation. You kept saying that I was acting like I had something to prove. I accused you of being a closet chauvinist. I never thought either of use would live to take on another case together. . .let alone get married." She let a small laugh escape. "Of course we all know what happened there." She turned back to her ex-husband. "It may have been a fiasco, but you have been the best partner I've ever had."

There was no response to her words. She moved to his bedside. "I suppose you wouldn't be able to say that about me." Her hand drifted to Tom's injured left side. She allowed her fingers to make contact with the blanket. With a feather light touch she outlined the bandage which covered the bullet wound. Collapsing back into the chair she couldn't fight the feeling of exhaustion which overwhelmed her. "You know, you were right. I did feel I had something to prove. I've always felt that way. I had to make sure that I was never the weak one. . .that if an investigation failed it wouldn't be my fault." She stopped and considered her next words. "And you let me. You were always willing to step back and let me lead. It was like you knew that I needed to be the one in control." A tear ran down her cheek. "And see what happens? I hurt you." Another tear followed. She brought her elbows onto the edge of the bed and clasped her hands together, letting her forehead lean on them. "I'm so sorry, Tom. I never meant for this to happen." She sobbed. "If you'll wake up. . .please wake up, I promise things will be different." Another sob followed the first.

"He doesn't blame you, Cassy," a quiet voice said from the doorway of the ICU room. Cassy heard the footsteps of her Captain approach her side. She felt his strong hand on her shoulder. "You know that."

Cassy never looked up. She only nodded and wiped away the tears. "That's what hurts so bad. He should blame me. It's my fault."

"You made a mistake. We all do. It wasn't the first and it certainly won't be the last. The important thing is that you learn from it."

She looked up at the older man, her eyes saddened. "I have, Harry. God, I have. My ego did this to him. My pride brought pain to my best friend." Her gaze drifted down onto the face of her partner. "But not again. Never again. Things will be different. I'll make it up to him."

Harry nodded his agreement. Then he saw his detective suddenly flinch. "What am I saying? It won't matter," she whispered. "I won't have the chance to make it up to him."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

Cassy shook her head. "I don't think I stand much of a chance of keeping my badge after this. You've seen the reports."

"Don't jump to conclusions, St. John. Nothing has been decided. You're a good cop. They know that."

Cassy grimly smiled, stood and leaned over to give her partner a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back in a little while," she whispered. She then turned to the man standing behind her. "I'm going to go get some coffee. You want anything?"

Harry shook his head. He watched Cassy exit the room. He breathed a sigh of relief. At least the woman was not going to run away this time. Whatever Frannie had said to motivate the woman to come to the hospital had worked. That was all he could ask for.

A soft moan broke through his thoughts. Startled, he looked at Tom. The injured man's eyebrows furrowed and his head moved slightly back and forth. The heart monitor's previous slow and steady beat became slightly faster. Harry came forward and placed a hand on Tom's shoulder. "Ryan?"

Another moan followed. Harry felt his hope rise. "Thomas?"

The eyelids fluttered, opened, then closed again. "Come on, Tom, wake up," Harry encouraged. The hazel eyes opened again, and this time they stayed open. Harry grinned when his detective turned his head slightly and their eyes made contact. Initially, there was no sign of recognition, but that didn't matter. "Thomas, my boy, it's good to see you awake."

The eyes became clearer and Tom opened his mouth, fighting to say the words which were beginning to form in his mind. "Harry?" he whispered, his voice rough from disuse. "What. . .?"

"Shhhh," Harry quickly silenced. "Don't say anything. . .not yet. Save your strength. I'm going to get the doctor."

"She's already on her way," a dark-haired woman said from the doorway. "I see our patient is waking up," the nurse commented cheerfully as she approached Tom's bedside. She glanced at Harry. "Could you excuse us? We'll need to examine Mr. Ryan."

Harry happily nodded. The younger man frowned, obviously confused by his surroundings. The Captain patted Tom on the leg. "I'm going to get your parents and Cassy. You've just answered a lot of prayers." He left the room, his body feeling much lighter than it had in days.

End Part 20

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