Vendetta

Part 11

Cassy wheeled her partner to the lobby of the hospital, but stopped before triggering the automatic doors. "What are we waiting for," Tom asked impatiently.

"Michaels is getting the car," Cassy replied simply.

"Then let's wait for him outside. I've been cooped up in this hospital for so long I've forgotten what fresh air smells like. I need sunshine, Cassy. Give me sunshine," he pleaded.

Cassy shook her head stubbornly, "Nope. Can't let you. It's too dangerous."

Tom's heart sank, "What? Look Cass. Nothing has happened since the shooting. The guys who did this are long gone. There not gonna stick around here just to get a pot shot off at me. It's too risky."

"No," she pressed, "Too risky would be standing outside and giving them an opportunity to get a 'pot shot' off at you. You know as well as I do that the only reason they haven't tried anything so far is because you were in the hospital. . .in a controlled environment."

"Cassy, come on. You don't know that. And I'm not going to live like some prisoner waiting for you to catch these guys." Tom started to push himself out of the wheelchair, determined to go outside.

Cassy stepped in front of him and pushed him back down, "Actually, I'm not going to be catching these guys. I'm going to let Harry handle that."

"What?" Tom asked, suddenly suspicious of his partner's motives.

"You guessed it, Partner. I'm gonna be your new roomy for awhile," Cassy grinned.

"No. . .No way!" Tom protested. "We tried this already, Cass. We about killed each other."

"That was different. We were married. This time, we're partners. . .friends."

"No, we can't do this. Besides. . .I don't have enough room in my apartment for the both of us," Tom argued.

"You know, I've been giving some thought to that too. I've decided we're going to go to my place, at least for a couple of days. I have the downstairs bedroom that you can stay in, and I'll stay in my room," Cassy looked quite satisfied with herself.

Tom closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest, "But Cass. . .I wanna go home. Please. . .let me go home. It'll be okay."

Cassy shook her head, "Nope. Besides, I went to your apartment. It's like an oven in there."

Tom's hand flew up and slapped his forehead, "Damn it. I forgot. The air conditioner's broken."

"See? You can't go home. We're going to my place. It has all the things we need. . .safety, room and air." Cassy grinned. She looked out the glass and saw that Michaels had pulled the unmarked police sedan in front of the building. She saw the officer exit the car. "It's time to go, Thomas."

"What? No Boxter?" Tom asked.

"There's not enough room for all three of us in there."

"Three?" Tom's suspicions were renewed.

"Yeah. You, me and Michaels," she answered.

"So whose bed is he sleeping in? Must be yours, I snore." Tom's words were filled with sarcasm.

"Funny guy," Cassy snorted. "Michaels and Tate are going to be watching the outside of my place while I take care of you."

Michaels entered the hospital, smiling at the two detectives. "Ready?"

"Yeah, let's go," Cassy answered for the both of them. Tom said nothing, he was too busy sulking in silence.

Cassy wheeled Tom out the sliding doors of the hospital and into the sunlight. Michaels took a position next to the chair, hand on his gun. His eyes were scanning the surrounding grounds, making sure that nothing was out of place. Cassy opened the back door of the sedan and helped Tom to his feet and into the car. She heard a quiet groan escape his lips and knew that the movement had caused him pain. It just proved to her that he was still weak and would be in need of her assistance. . .and her protection.

Cassy climbed into the back seat with Tom and Michaels took position behind the wheel. He slowly pulled the car from the hospital's patient loading zone and onto the main street to begin the drive to Cassy's beach house. Michaels glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure that they were not being followed. As far as he could tell, they were in the clear. For a while he thought that a dark blue Grand Prix was following the police sedan, but after a couple of miles, it turned off the road. Michaels directed his attention to the road in front of him, while Cassy gave directions to her home.

Thirty minutes later, the three pulled in front of Cassy's house. Her Porsche was parked in the street. Cassy fumbled in her purse for the garage door opener so that Michael's could pull the sedan into her garage and the safety of the house. The garage door then shut behind the car.

"Okay, let's get inside and out of this heat," Cassy commented. Michaels got out of the car and held the door open for Tom.

"You need some help getting out, Sergeant?" he asked.

"No, thanks, I can do it." Tom answered, still sounding miffed about being at Cassy's and not in his own home.

"Don't let him fool you, Randy. He needs help." Cassy mothered.

"I thought he might," the officer smiled.

"Okay, fine. . .I need help," Tom muttered.

Michaels and Cassy slowly maneuvered Tom from the vehicle and into a standing position. He wobbled back and forth for a moment before he was able to regain his balance. Cassy looked into his expressive eyes and could see that pain had resulted from the movement, once again. They made their way to the back entrance of the beach house. The door opened and a wave of cool, air- conditioned air rushed out.

"Feels pretty good, huh?" Cassy commented.

Tom nodded, realizing that she was right. His apartment would have been miserably hot. "Okay, you were right. Now, point me to a beer and the couch and I will be forever in your debt."

"The couch I can give you. But, sorry, no can do on the beer. Pain pills, remember?" Cassy warned.

"Come on, Cass. Just one," Tom tried the Bassett hound eyes, but Cassy wasn't buying it.

"Sorry, Thomas. Not gonna budge on that one."

Tom gave up and dropped his shoulders in defeat. "Okay. . .how about an iced tea?"

"That I can do. Can I get you something, Randy?"

The young officer shook his head, "No thank you, Sergeant. I think I'd better find my position outside. Can you handle Sgt. Ryan from here?"

"Yeah, thanks Randy. I think we have it under control."

Tom looked at the young officer and it suddenly dawned on him that the kid was willingly putting his life on the line for him. "Hey, Randy."

The young officer turned obediently. "Thanks for everything. I mean it. I really appreciate everything you're doing for me."

"You're welcome Sergeant. I'm glad I can help. If you need anything, let me know." Randy smiled and reached for the door handle.

"Same goes for you," Tom responded. If you need anything, let us know."

Michaels tipped his head in thanks at Tom. "By the way, Steve Tate will be taking over for me at 7:30. He'll be here through the night."

"Okay. Thanks." Tom watched the man walk out the front door of the house.

Cassy walked out of the kitchen with two iced teas. "He's a good kid. He's gonna make a great cop, don't you think?"

"How long has he been with the force?" Tom asked.

"I'm not sure, but I think it's been less than a year. He asked for this duty."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope. He said that protecting a fellow officer made him feel like he was really helping." Tom shook his head, slowly lowering himself down to the couch. Cassy watched, observing his confusion, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I guess. I just hate thinking that I'm endangering others. . .like him. . .and you," Tom's face turned to one of worry.

"Hey, wait a sec." She sat down next to him, placing a hand on his leg, "Like you said earlier, this may all be for nothing. I don't want you worrying about what might happen. . .Besides, that's my job," she grinned and then leaned over giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Tom looked at her with surprise. She laughed, "What can I say? I'm just glad you're okay."

She retrieved some extra pillows and placed them behind Tom's back and then she helped him raise his legs so that he could stretch out the length of his body comfortably on the couch. "Does that feel better?"

"Much. Thanks Cass."

The phone rang and Cassy reached over to the end table to retrieve the handset. "Hello."

"Cassy, it's Harry. I take it you are settled in with Tom?"

"Sure are. He's laying down on the couch while we speak. What's up?"

"I'm coming over. We just received copies of surveillance photos from Narcotics in Miami. I think we've found our men. Two of the men in the photos look like our John Does. The other descriptions Tom provided are an exact match to the hired help of. . .uh. . .Emmanuel Martinez. I want to bring these photos over and see if Tom makes a positive ID."

"Okay, Harry. We'll be here." Cassy hung up the phone.

"What'd did Harry want?" Tom asked with curiosity.

"He's coming over to show you pictures from surveillance done on the new drug dealer that moved into Miami, " Cassy answered. "If these are the guys that shot you and Fred then we'll be able to wrap up this case."

"That'd be a relief," Tom sighed.

"Yeah. Jeremy would be satisfied, too." Cassy added.

"You've seen him? How is he?" Tom was still frustrated that he had been unable to see the kid. . .and that Jeremy seemed unwilling to visit him.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about this. We may have a problem. He was following me this morning. He interfered in the pursuit of a suspect. . .well not a suspect, really, but a lead. Tom, you should have seen him. He threatened the guy. . .assaulted him. He had his hands wrapped around the guy's throat. Then later, he said he wanted the men who murdered Fred to be dead."

"Jeremy did that?" Tom said with disbelief.

Cassy nodded, "Yeah. He was so angry. I'm afraid for him Tom. He's a loose canon and I'm afraid that he's going to get himself hurt."

"I need to talk with him," Tom started to rise from the couch.

"Let's not go through this again, Thomas. You aren't leaving this couch, unless it's to go to bed. Understand?"

"Well, then, you need to get him here. I need to talk to him. Please, help me find him."

"Okay, when Harry gets here, I'll see if I can locate him, then I'll try to talk some sense into him and get him to see you. Satisfied?" Cassy tilted her head, waiting for a response.

Tom nodded his approval, "Satisfied. Thanks."

End Part 11

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