Reckless

Part 8

"I'll be there in an hour," Frannie responded upon hearing the news of the shooting.

"No, Hon, that's okay. There's nothing you can do. We're just waiting. The Ryans should be here soon."

"Hesch, I want to be there. I care about Tom, too. He's like a. . ." her voice caught in her throat. "I'll be there as quickly as I can."

Harry started to protest but realized that his wife needed to be at the hospital. . .needed to believe that she could help in some small way. "Okay, Fran. We'll be waiting for you. We're in the third floor lounge."

Harry hung up the phone and felt a presence behind him. Turning, he found himself facing Officer Barnett.

"Sir, I thought you'd like to know that we have finished up at the crime scenes."

Harry grimly nodded. "Anything else I should know about?"

The officer's face matched the captain's. "No, Sir. There's nothing to change our original conclusions."

"Thanks, Barnett," Harry responded as he began to walk away. "Good work."

Then the officer spoke again. "Sir, there is one oddity."

Harry paused and turned back to the younger man. "What would that be?"

"Well, based on the initial report from Sgt. St. John and the discussion I had with her later, here at the hospital, something appears to be wrong."

Harry could feel his patience wearing thin. "Go ahead, Officer, spit it out."

The man pulled out his notes, which contained a rough sketch of the interior of the warehouse. "Sir, this is where Sgt. Ryan's body was found. This was where Slater's was located when we arrived." The man circled to spots on the paper. "Sgt. St. John was here."

"Yes." Harry had to fight to keep his patience even.

"According to Sgt. St. John, Sgt. Ryan attempted to apprehend Slater right here, Slater's gun went off and Sgt. Ryan was injured. At the same time, Sgt. St. John had fired, missing her target."

Harry could feel the heat building in his face. "Get to it, Officer."

"Well, we found a bullet hole cutting through the crate located right here, right next to where Sgt. Ryan went down. We followed the trajectory and found the bullet imbedded in the crate behind it. The trajectory line was perpendicular from where Sgt. St. John was located."

Harry gave the man a blank stare. "What are you implying, Officer."

The man took a step backwards. "Sir, all I'm saying is that if Sgt. St. John fired her weapon, the bullet would have traveled in a north-south trajectory. This bullet's path went east-west, through the crates."

"So you're saying that the bullet in the crate did not come from St. John's gun, is that it, Officer," Harry emphasized the title.

The man held his ground. "Yes, Sir. That's what I'm saying."

Harry took a step forward and then glared at the man over the rim of his glasses, hands on hips. "Have you ever heard of the concept of 'ricochet', Barnett?"

The man nervously looked down at his feet, unable to maintain eye contact. "Yes, Sir," he mumbled.

"All right. Enough said," Harry responded flatly as he turned to walk away for a second time.

"But, Sir." Barnett's voice stopped him again. "This bullet would have ricocheted at a ninety degree angle. . .and we didn't find any evidence of a ricochet."

"When you've been in this business as long as I have, Barnett, you'll see stranger things. I've seen bullet's ricochet right back at the shooter. Angles are irrelevant. As for evidence, it's a big warehouse. That bullet could of bounced off of anything. . .or lots of anythings." Harry turned away again. "Thank you for your report, Barnett. I appreciate your thoroughness. Now, I need to go check on my detective."

As Harry entered the waiting room, he heard the sound of an unfamiliar female voice. Once in the room, he recognized that it belonged to the floor nurse, Kendra Kemper. Cassy heard Harry enter and waved him over. The woman smiled at the captain. "I was just telling Sgt. St. John that we are moving Tom to CICU. He won't be allowed visitors until after we are sure that he has handled the relocation without any problems. Even then, we will be limiting visitation."

"How's he doing?" Harry asked, concern in his words.

"He's stable, but in pretty rough condition. "We have him on a respirator, so as to give the lung a chance to heal. If all goes well, the doctor thinks we will be able to take him off that by tomorrow morning. We are keeping him heavily sedated. The last thing we need is for him to be moving around and irritating the lung."

"What about the heart?" Cassy followed.

"That appears to be doing fine. His blood pressure is stable as is the heart rate," the woman smiled.

"So the outlook is positive?" Cassy prodded.

"Dr. Neely was reluctant to tell us the prognosis," Harry clarified.

The woman nodded her understanding. "Sgt. Ryan has been through a very traumatic event. Many complications could occur which would adversely affect his recovery. But for now, things are looking good."

The woman left the two police officers behind. Harry turned to Cassy and examined her appearance. Her eyes were red-rimmed. Dark circles encompassed them. He placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Let's go sit. We can move up to the CICU waiting room when Frannie gets here."

"She's coming?" Cassy hopefully asked.

Harry smiled. "Yes, she should be here any minute."

A look of relief passed over her face. Harry knew that the two women were close. Cassy had come to rely on his wife as a substitute mother. Considering the mother that she had been given at birth, it was no wonder Cassy would seek out another.

The two collapsed on the couch again. Harry stifled a yawn and glanced up at the clock. It was almost five o'clock in the morning. The Ryans should be arriving soon.

Cassy wrapped her arms around herself. "It's cold in here."

Harry shook his head. "No, it's low blood sugar. We need to find you something to eat."

"Not hungry," Cassy responded with a quick shake of the head.

"Won't matter. When Frannie gets here, you won't have a choice but to eat." He smiled at the mental image. "Remember, just because she doesn't have a child of her own doesn't mean that she doesn't have the Jewish-mother-routine down to a fine art."

Cassy stifled a chuckle. "You know, Harry, you're very lucky to have her."

He nodded and wrapped a caring arm around Cassy's shoulders, drawing her close, attempting to provide additional warmth. The woman didn't fight the contact. Instead, she settled in closer. "And she's pretty lucky to have you too," Cassy completed.

Harry said nothing, but he couldn't help the small smile which lit his face.

Frannie Lipschitz entered the waiting room. Taking one look at her husband and his detective brought a smile. Harry had a protective arm wrapped around the petite woman. The scene looked very much like a father holding his child. Both were asleep.

She tiptoed into the room and sat a sack carefully on the floor, trying not to wake the two.

Instinctively, Harry recognized the presence of his wife in the room. Opening one eye, he saw her leaning over and placing a bag on the floor. "Hi," he whispered, trying not to wake the sleeping woman next to him.

Frannie smiled at her husband, leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. She glanced at the blond woman. "How's she doing?"

"She's tired and scared, but she's a survivor."

"And Tom?" Frannie's face showed her fear.

"He's holding his own. He's been moved up to CICU."

"Have you seen him?" the woman asked.

Harry shook his head. He then glanced down at the bag. "What's in there?"

"Clothes for the two of you. I figured that you would probably need something to change into. We could be here for awhile," she whispered.

Harry felt a flood of emotion overwhelm him. He didn't understand why something so insignificant as his wife bringing him clothing made such an impact on him. Perhaps it was because she cared enough to make sure that he and his people were comfortable. He reached out a hand and gently touched her cheek. "God, I love you, Fran."

The woman smiled and nodded. She leaned forward and kissed him again, this time letting it last longer. The kiss said everything. There was no need for words.

The movement, however, did wake the sleeping woman leaning against Harry. Looking suddenly embarrassed at having used her boss as a pillow for a second time that night, Cassy righted herself immediately. "Frannie, hi," she responded.

"Hi, Honey. How are you doing?" Frannie smiled affectionately at the woman.

Cassy realized that Frannie was not disturbed by the contact between her and Harry and mentally kicked herself for not realizing that in the first place. "I'm okay. I'm glad you're here."

Frannie stood and handed the woman a stack of clothes out of the bag. "I brought you some sweats to change into. I hope they fit you okay. They were all I had."

Cassy looked appreciatively at the woman. "Anything would be better than these." She pointed at the scrubs. She leaned forward, gave Frannie a quick hug, and then grabbed the clothes and headed for the women's room.

Frannie reached into the bag and grabbed a stack of clothes for Harry. "I brought you casual slacks and a shirt. I figured if you went back into the office you would want to go home and shower first."

Harry nodded, glad that his wife knew him so well.

By six o'clock in the morning, both police officers had changed clothes and the three had moved to the CICU waiting room. Various police officers from the department had trickled in on their way to their shifts to check on the status of the fallen detective. Several times, Harry had to ask reporters to leave the waiting room, repeating over and over that any statements about the shooting would be released by the Public Relations Department.

It was while in the process of escorting another reporter out of the CICU ward that Harry met Lyam and Margaret Ryan as they were exiting the elevator. They caught sight of the captain and immediately rushed towards him. "Harry!" Lyam said anxiously. Lipschitz smiled at the new arrivals. He grasped Lyam's hand in welcome. "How's Tommy?" the man asked immediately.

"He's okay. He's holding his own. He was moved to CICU about an hour ago," Harry answered calmly.

The parents sighed in relief, each offering their own silent thanks to God. "Can we see him?" Margaret Ryan asked without hesitation.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "We haven't been allowed in yet. But you're family. Perhaps you'll be permitted. Come with me to the waiting room and I'll go find the nurse and see whether it's okay."

Lyam and Margaret nodded and followed the captain to the waiting room. They saw Cassy and Frannie standing at the window overlooking the hospital grounds, watching the sun creep up over the horizon.

"Cassy, Honey?" Margaret said upon entering the room. Cassy spun around and rushed to Tom's mother, bringing the woman into a hug.

"I'm sorry that you're having to go through this again," Cassy whispered.

Margaret nodded. "Yes, sometimes I really regret that Tommy didn't decide to stick with his music. He'd probably be waiting tables as a profession, but. . ." The woman's weak attempt at humor did bring a smile to Cassy's face.

Cassy released her and then brought Lyam into a hug. "Are you okay, Kiddo," Lyam asked his ex-daughter-in-law."

"Yeah. Thanks," she answered.

Frannie stepped forward to the couple, taking Margaret by the hand. "I'm sorry we have to meet under these conditions again."

Margaret nodded and sniffed. "Thanks for being here. I know how much Tom cares about you and Harry.

"Mr. and Mrs. Ryan?" The parents turned to face the nurse standing in the doorway. She smiled at them. "Hi, I'm Kendra. I'm working with your son. Captain Lipschitz said you would like to see him. We are trying to limit the visitors since his condition is very serious at this time, but I certainly think it's okay for you two to go in for a little while."

Lyam and Margaret nodded gratefully and followed the young woman out the door, leaving Cassy, Harry and Frannie in the room. Cassy closed her eyes and mumbled. "Damn it. They shouldn't have to go through this again."

Harry nodded his agreement. Frannie's hand found a spot on Cassy's shoulder. "But at least you made sure that the man who hurt Tom will never hurt anyone else again."

Cassy nodded, knowing she could take some comfort in that thought.

End Part 8

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