Part 33
Harry stood momentarily frozen in horror as he looked down at his beloved Frannie's still form. His heart skipped a beat as he dropped to his knees next to her. "Frannie, honey, open your eyes and talk to me. Show me you're all right, Sweetie." At her lack of response, his voice trembled with fear. "Come on, Frannie, you're scaring the life outta me here. Please, open your eyes for me now."
Her eyelids fluttered and then remained open, but Frannie didn't say a word as she struggled to a sitting position. Harry moved his uninjured arm around her shoulders and felt her first shaky breath since being knocked to the floor. "Frannie, honey, are you hurt? We need to go get you checked out. You stay here while I find somebody to help you."
Frannie grabbed his arm as he started to rise. "No. . .I'm fine. Just got. . .the wind. . .knocked out of. . .me." She held tight to his arm as she struggled to get her breathing under control.
Harry wasn't giving up so easily. "I still think we should have a doctor check. . ."
He stopped mid-sentence as Cassy rounded the corner, gun drawn and searching for the intruder. The captain in him wasted no time in barking out orders. "He took the elevator down. Take the stairs; you can still catch him. Go, go, go!"
Cassy didn't miss a beat as she raced for the door to the stairway and disappeared through it. Harry looked apologetically at his wife, whose breathing was now easier, though not quite back to normal. "I've got to get her some backup," he explained. At Frannie's nod, he raced to the nurses' desk, praying that hospital security would get there in time to aid the pursuing detective.
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Mentally, he screamed at his muscles to move, to do something--anything--to escape his confinement. Tears continued to flow freely down his face as his body remained unresponsive. Unfamiliar faces swam in and out of his field of vision, their voices lost in the noise of the respirator's alarm. Tom struggled to contain the terror and stop the images of his captivity that flashed continuously through his mind. He couldn't seem to focus on anything other than the searing heat enveloping him and the horror that was replaying itself over and over in his head. As he felt his eye grow heavy, a female voice suddenly pierced the noise of the alarm. "You sleep now, Sergeant. You'll feel much better when you wake up." The visions slowed, finally stopping completely as he lost the fight to keep his eye open and slipped quietly into nothingness.
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A dejected and angry Cassandra St. John slowly approached lone pair near the ICU entrance. She had heard Harry Lipschitz's voice the moment she stepped off the elevator. "What the hell do you mean you went to the bathroom? You're on protection detail here, Officer Killian. Rookie or not, you should know better. You don't move from your post until your relief arrives. Never. Ever. Not for anything. You got that?" Cassy paused when she reached them and waited for Harry to finish with the negligent guard.
Instead, he turned his attention to her and frowned at the dejected look she wore. "He got away." Cassy solemnly nodded, but remained silent. Harry closed his eyes and sighed in frustration. As he opened them again, he nodded toward the man standing before him, his gaze never leaving hers. "He went to the bathroom. Can you believe that? Our suspect waltzes on into Tom's room right under our noses. And why? Because the boy-genius here got himself lost on the way back from the damned men's room, where he wasn't supposed to be in the first damn place!" Harry's voice had risen to a dull roar by the time he'd finished speaking. He paused for a deep breath before turning his attention back to the object of his ire. "Where the hell is Donato, anyway? I personally assigned him to this detail for tonight, not you."
The pale and shaken rookie officer trembled as he spoke. "Well, Sir. . .he. . .he asked me to take his shift. He. . .he. . .he said he had a date with this really hot redhead and. . .and something about a. . .a. . .a romantic dinner in her beachfront condo. I thought. . .I mean. . .I didn't think it would. . .the nurse said the Doc was gonna be in there awhile. I figured I'd. . .I'd be back long before he. . .before they. . .finished. I. . .I. . .I didn't mean to be gone so long. I thought. . .I thought it would be okay since. . .since he wasn't going to be alone. Oh God, I'm so very, very sorry, Captain."
"You're sorry?" Harry stared incredulously at the remorseful officer in front of him. Slowly, he turned to look at Cassy, his expression unchanged. "He's sorry. He didn't think. Did you hear that? He's sorry, so that makes it all nice again." Harry shook his head in disbelief and turned his attention back to the rookie. "Killian, you're a rookie; you aren't supposed to think. That's what The Book is for. Your 'thinking' allowed a suspect to get into the room alone with his victim-- who can't move a muscle to defend himself! You don't seem to get the fact that Tom Ryan could easily be dead now if Leonard had wanted it. Sorry doesn't cut it here, Mister. Not by a long shot."
As a look of absolute horror crossed the young officer's face, Harry paused a moment to let his words be fully absorbed before continuing. "I want a report from you on my desk within the hour. Then you go home and think about how close you came here tonight to allowing a fellow officer to die because of your negligence. Think about it long and hard over the next two days, Officer. I'll see you in my office Monday morning and we'll talk again. Until then, you're on suspension."
With a meek "Yes, sir," the young rookie turned to leave. He'd gone only a few steps before turning back to the captain. "Captain Lipschitz, sir? Could you please. . .I mean, would you please tell Sergeant Ryan that. . .that I'm sorry?"
Harry softened slightly at the genuine regret in the young man's face. "Yeah, sure. I'll tell him for you. But I think you owe him an apology in person as soon as he's well enough."
Killian's eyes inspected the floor as he responded. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Never looking up, the young officer turned and slowly walked to the elevators. Harry watched him briefly before he turned his full attention to Cassy.
"So what happened? How did he get away?" Harry wasted no time in demanding answers.
"He was already out the front doors by the time I got to the lobby. I tried to catch up, but he spotted me and hopped onto a bus. By the time I got there, it had already pulled out into traffic." The anger and disgust in her voice were replaced by determination. "I got the number and called it in. Dispatch sent a unit to intercept. Maybe we finally got a break and they already have him in custody." Her eyes searched the Captain's face for some spark of the hope that she was trying hard to feel.
Harry nodded, but looked unconvinced. "I'll call in and check it before I go talk to Tom's doctor. You go see if the nurse who was in Tom's room has calmed down enough to give a coherent statement by now. She was pretty hysterical right after it happened and we couldn't get anything out of her."
Cassy paused a moment before following Harry as he turned toward the nurses' station. "Harry, how's Frannie? Is she really okay?"
Harry smiled at the concern shown by his detective. "Yeah, she just got the wind knocked out of her. The doctor says she's gonna be a little sore and probably have a few bruises, but she's okay. She 's staying with Tom until the Ryans get back. I don't know how you managed to talk them into getting some rest, but I'm glad you did." His face clouded with fury as he again spoke. "If that piece of slime had hurt her, too. . ." The rest of the threat remained unspoken as they reached the nurses' station.
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"I understand that you wanted to see me, Captain." Dr. Morris extended his hand in greeting to the man before him.
"Yes, I did" came the reply as Harry reached out to shake the offered hand. "I have a. . .a question. About Tom." Harry's voice died in his throat as the doctor waited for him to continue. After clearing his throat the captain continued. "I wanted to know if. . .if he. . ." He attempted to force the rest of the question out, but was unsuccessful.
Dr. Morris ventured to guess what was being asked. "We had to sedate him again after the incident. He was too upset to allow the vent to breathe for him. There were no signs of further injury, if that's what you're asking."
Harry shook his head as he responded. "I'm glad to hear it, but that's not what I need to ask," he nervously explained. "The intruder--Dr. Gordon Leonard--served time in prison for aggravated sexual battery. I was wondering if...if there were any signs of. . .of. . ."
The doctor frowned as he finished the thought for Harry. "Rape?" Harry nodded, relieved to finally have his suspicion out in the open. "We did a thorough examination when he was brought in. There was no bruising on the thighs, buttocks, or genitals, and nothing to indicate penetration had taken place. Of course, you know as well as I do that this doesn't necessarily mean that an assault hasn't occurred," he cautioned Harry.
A deep sigh escaped the captain as he answered. "Yeah, I do know that. But at least it gives us reason for hope." The nervousness had disappeared as he asked his next question. "So how is he doing, aside from the effects of the incident?"
Harry was startled as the voice with a distinctive Boston accent sounded behind him. "Yes, Doctor. We'd like to hear the answer to that one, too."
End Part 33
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To Part 34