A Time to Gather (17 page)

Bobby stood and shook his hand. “Thanks, Lou.”

“Sure.” He patted Rosie’s shoulder on his way out the door. “See you.”

She had no response but to continue biting her lip.

As Davis left the office, Bobby leaned back against the desk and looked at her. “They oughta outlaw that toy he used. It’s too realistic. Anybody who knows guns could mistake it for a Glock at first glance.”

“Don’t go there. Just don’t go there.” She leaned forward, squishing her palms against her eyes.

Bobby sighed. “Do you want company or do you want to be alone?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“It wasn’t my temper.” She looked at him.

“Rosie.” He crossed his arms. “We just talked through this at least sixteen times with something like sixteen different people.”

“Not all of it.” She hesitated.

“What do you mean, not all of it?”

“I mean . . .” She bit her lip again. With those other people he mentioned—all of them related to law enforcement, most of them men—she had held back.

Bobby sighed again, more a sound of settling in for the duration rather than impatience. “I was there with you, remember? What’d I miss?”

“The lapses.” She sat up, holding a shrug and her breath. “I don’t remember yelling ‘Drop it.’ I don’t remember seeing a gun.” There. She’d said it. She let her shoulders relax.

“It’ll come back to you.” He slid up onto the corner of the desk. “This is your first shooting. In spite of the training, you can’t get around the fact that it’s traumatic. It all happened in a split second. But I was there too. I distinctly saw the gun coming our way and heard you yell. The other guys coming in heard you. And I distinctly remember kneeling behind you thinking, if she doesn’t take this guy out, I’m in deep yogurt and so is Brett Abbott because Beaumont’s shot will most likely miss you and hit us.”

She shook her head. “I still can’t believe you recognized a baseball player in the middle of all that.”

“That was the easy part. The tough part was deciding whether or not I should throw myself in front of him and take a bullet for the Pads.” He smiled. “He had a decent season last year.”

“It’s not funny.”

He stopped smiling. “No, it’s not. It’s how I deal with it. You know this incident has a fairly happy ending only because you’re a crack shot. Nine out of ten couldn’t have hit him like you did. He would have been in the morgue.”

“I made tea with his mother!”

“Huh?”

“I know him! I know his family!”

“Come on, Rosie, don’t go irrational on me.”

“I already did! That’s what I’m saying. It was a totally irrational thing.”

“It feels like that now, but give it time—”

“Bobby, listen. Something happened to me in there. When I saw him. When I saw Beaumont with his arm raised, I felt.”

“Felt what?”

“I
felt
. Cops don’t feel.”

“Well—”

“We don’t. But I did.” She rubbed her hands together, trying to knead away the tingle left in them since the gun had gone off hours and hours ago. “Remember we talked about Ryan Taylor?”

“The old boyfriend, the one your dad calls evil.”

“Yeah. It all came back to me, the ugly thing I didn’t want to tell you about before. Seeing Beaumont.” She shut her eyes. “Wham. All of a sudden he was Taylor and I was the one on the bed screaming.”

There was only the sound of her ragged breathing, the ticking of a wall clock.

Bobby said, “Did he . . . did he hurt you?”

“He beat me and he raped me.” She opened her eyes and watched the emotions play across a face trained to not reveal them. Compassion. Anger. Back to compassion. On to the inveterate neutral. Disgust never showed up.

“How old were you?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Is he behind bars?”

“No. Not one day.”

“Oh, Rosie.”

She gave him half a nod. “I swore I would not let that happen to another woman if I could stop it. For a long time, whenever I practiced at the shooting range, I aimed at Taylor’s face.”

“Probably why you’re so good at it.”

“But it wasn’t right. I finally got around to asking God to help me forgive him. Good-looking rich white guys still tick me off, so there’s a grudge lingering somewhere inside of me. I thought it was all taken care of.”

“It’s not a grudge. It’s your halo slipping while you give a quick nod to your human side. It never lasts long.”

“Tonight scared me, Bobby. They should never give me back my gun. I should quit. I’m not cut out for this.”

“Hey.” He slid off the desk and sat in the chair beside her, leaning close to her, his eyes intent on hers. “You did not lose control. You did everything you were supposed to, by the book. It was automatic. You even aimed well, impossibly well under the circumstances. You could not have done anything better. You got that?”

“No.”

“Well, you better get it because I need my best partner working with me.”

She tried to smile.

“You want to come over for breakfast? Elise’s waffles.”

“There’s one other thing.”

He groaned and hung his head.

“In the ambulance.” She had ridden with the unconscious Erik to the hospital. “I prayed for him.”

Bobby peered at her from the corner of his eye. “Out loud?”

“Yeah.”

“Medic hear you?”

She nodded.

“There goes your reputation.” He grinned and sat up. “But I still want you riding with me as soon as possible.”

For a long moment she studied his intense cornflower-blue eyes gazing back at her. He meant it. He really meant it.

She whispered, “Thank you.”

  
Twenty-Nine

L
exi gingerly pushed open the door to Erik’s hospital room. While she slept away most of the day in her apartment, her family had kept watch over him. They were gone for the time being.

Evening had fallen, and the illumination inside the room was dim. Lights flickered from the muted television mounted on the wall.

“Hi, Lexi.”

Lexi hadn’t noticed the woman seated in a chair on the other side of the bed. “Hi. Officer Delgado?”

She stood. “Please, call me Rosie.”

Lexi pushed the door shut and went to Erik’s bedside. Her mother had warned her, but the sight of him made her cringe. He was white as the sheets and almost hidden between all the tubes and monitors and wires and IV bags. Even if he were awake, she wondered if he’d be able to open his eyes in such a swollen face.

She touched his leg. “Oh, Erik.”

“Of course,” the policewoman mumbled, “you might have some other names you’d prefer to call me.”

Lexi glanced over at her. “Why?”

“Um, I should go.” She moved around to the foot of the bed. In blue jeans and a sweater, her wavy hair loose to her shoulders, she looked like any regular person.

“Thank you for helping me last night.”

“I don’t know how much I helped.” She tilted her head toward Erik.

“Erik freaked out. You got to him before things got worse, and you took care of me. The guys you sent parked my car and drove me here to the hospital.”

“Lexi, why did you call and ask for me? Why not just call 911? The dispatcher could have done the same.”

She shrugged. “I freaked out too. It wasn’t exactly an emergency. I mean, it wasn’t like an accident happening right in front of me or a fire. He really hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet. And you know him personally. It was easier to explain it to you. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. It’s . . . it’s okay. You’re right. It would have taken longer for you to explain it all to someone else. Then they probably would have gotten there after he—I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to talk about it. Forget I said that. Forget I said anything. Nuts. Forget I was here.”

“Why aren’t you supposed to talk about it?”

“Cockeyed rigamarole. rigamarole.” Rosie placed fingertips at her mouth. “I can’t even tell your family how sorry I am.” Her voice cracked.

“Why not? We know you are. Well, except maybe Jenna, but Miss Drama Queen doesn’t count.”

Rosie just stood there blinking rapidly, pressing her hand against her mouth, as if she was trying to get herself under control.

Suddenly Lexi did not want her to leave. Like the day she’d shown up at Erik’s place, she brought an air of order to the chaos. Order and something else. Kindness? Understanding? Acceptance? She was so easy to talk to.

“Lexi.” Rosie lowered her hand. “When an officer shoots someone, there’s an investigation. I’m suspended until it’s decided whether or not what I did was acceptable under the circumstances. Someone will ask you questions about what happened. If I talk to you or Erik and say something like I should have seen it was a toy gun in his hand and not shot him, and then you all sue me and the police department, and you say that I said . . .” She sighed. “It just gets real complicated. It’s best we don’t talk yet.”

“We wouldn’t sue you.”

“Sometimes it’s not your choice. Insurance companies have different ideas. The media will influence things. They’re going to have a heyday with this. They already are. Five o’clock lead.” She pointed her thumb at the television.

“But we know you wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t have to. For crying out loud, you know him. And Jenna did have one valid point: you made tea with our mom.”

Rosie smiled. “Yes, I did.” She paused, frowned, and then spoke again. “How is everyone?”

“Fine. Well, I mean they’re upset, naturally. But Erik’s okay. Brett’s okay. Felicia’s okay. ”

“Will you tell them I’m sorry, please? So very sorry that it happened.”

“Yes.” She glanced at her brother. The walls with their sick odors closed in on her. “Could we . . . could we go have coffee or something?”

“I—” Rosie clamped her jaws together. Her forehead wrinkled again. Her wide mouth turned in an upside-down
U
.

“I promise not to tell anyone,” Lexi said.

Slowly, Rosie smiled. “Do you know what perjury is?”

“It won’t come to that. I need—uh . . .”
Need?

The word sounded foreign in Lexi’s ear. She never said
need
out loud. Probably because the only thing she ever thought about needing was food. But now, with Erik totally out of commission, Zak out of the picture, and Danny and Nana off the deep end ad nauseam over Tuyen, maybe she needed to not be alone.

She took a deep breath. “I need to hang out with somebody who understands last night.”

Rosie studied her for a moment. “Yeah, I do too.”

T
hey sat in a booth tucked away in a corner of the busy hospital cafeteria. Rosie drank coffee. Lexi succumbed to the gnaw in her stomach and filled her tray with a selection from every food group offered.

“Lexi, do you know how he got to Felicia’s? His car wasn’t found in the vicinity.”

“No. He and this other guy ran out the door. Maybe he drove him?”

Rosie shrugged.

“How long will you be suspended?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a week. I’ll still work, but behind a desk.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not all that bad of an idea. I can’t exactly think straight after this. Forget I said that. Anyway, my dad owns a restaurant in Old Town.”

“Really? Which one?”

“Casa del Gusto.”

“I love it.”

“I do too. I like to cook and wait tables. And I like to keep an eye on my dad. He’s got a great manager and staff, but Papi refuses to give up control and he wears himself out doing things other people could do. Now he’s got a crush on a new employee, so he’s spending even more time there. It’s really kind of cute. This woman is almost his age and adores him.”

“Your
mom’s not around?”

Rosie shook her head. “I was nineteen when she passed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Rosie leaned forward. “Lexi, you don’t have to feel obligated to apologize for everything.”

“Sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “Danny tells me it’s a bad habit. You said ‘passed.’ I’ve only heard my grandmother use the word that way.”

“It totally fits my mom. She was so in love with Jesus. After her second time going through chemo and then getting sick again, all she could talk about was going Home. Capital
H
. It was like she just went through the veil, passed from this world on to the other one.” Rosie sat back again and sipped her coffee. “In the kitchen at the hacienda I saw your grandmother’s wall of crosses. That’s an incredible collection.”

“Did Mom tell you about them, how they didn’t burn during the Rolando Bluff Fire?”

“She did. She also told me about how you saved the family and those firefighters.”

Lexi felt the flush creep up her neck. It hadn’t been that big of a deal.

“Then I remembered the story. I read about you and your family miraculously making it through that night. You were a heroine.”

Lexi shrugged a shoulder and pushed aside the thought of Zak. He’d never, ever be absent from the memory of the fire. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”

“Of course it was. Actually I was nearby, working traffic control when Santa Reina was being evacuated. I got far enough up the hill to see the flames. Of course the smoke was everywhere. The wind was horrendous. I can’t imagine how awful that must have been for you being right in the middle of it all. Do you have nightmares?”

The question startled Lexi. How did Rosie know? “Sometimes.”

“Understandable.” Rosie spun the coffee cup around in a nervous gesture. “I’ll probably be having some of my own after this.” She tapped her temple. “I can’t stop seeing your brother with his arm thrust out. Things happened so quickly, it’s a blur. My partner saw the gun, heard me say ‘Drop it,’ saw Erik swing it toward us.” She shook her head. “If only I’d looked at it more closely.”

“But if it had been a real one . . .”

“Yeah.” She shut her eyes briefly. “I am so grateful I did not kill him.”

“The doctor said if he had to get shot, that was the best way for it to happen.”

“It could ruin his tennis game forever.”

“He doesn’t play tennis.”

“Another blessing.”

“Our dad plays. That’s why Erik doesn’t. The thing I don’t get is why Erik was so crazy. I haven’t been around him a whole lot while he’s drinking. Jenna says he always gets more mellow. This wasn’t mellow.”