The Quest: Countdown to Armageddon: Book 6 (17 page)

-36-

     John Castro was seemingly the only person in San Antonio who didn’t know he’d been shot.

     He opened his eyes to find Hannah sleeping peacefully on his chest.

     His head pounded and his whole body ached from lying in bed for almost three weeks.

     “Honey,” he said. “What happened? Why am I in a hospital?”

     At the first sound of John’s voice Hannah’s eyes opened. For a split second she thought she was dreaming.

     Then she looked at John’s face and started to cry.

     It was several seconds before his question even registered in her mind.

     “Oh, baby. You don’t remember? You were shot. Twice.”

     He was dumbfounded.

     “You’re kidding.”

     “No. The doctors said you probably wouldn’t be aware of what happened. The first shot was to your head. It didn’t penetrate your brain, but did some damage nonetheless. You took a second shot to the chest. It just barely missed your heart.”

     “When? Where? Who shot me? And why?”

     “The who and why we don’t know yet. They’re trying to find out. The where was wherever you go to pick flowers for me every day. Apparently whoever shot you knew your habits and waited for you there. When you got there he shot you.”

     John looked puzzled, but didn’t say anything.

     Hannah continued.

     “With God as my witness, John Castro… if you ever bring me flowers again I will beat you senseless.”

     He smiled.

     “Some would say I’m already senseless.”

     “Okay, then. I’ll beat you senselesser.”

     “Senselesser? Is that even a word?”

     “It is if I say so. I’m a worried and pissed off wife. I’m allowed to make up words if I want to.”

     “I hope you’re not pissed off at me.”

     “No, baby. At whoever did this to you. To us. To the girls.”

     “Where are the girls? Are they here?”

     “No. I wouldn’t let them come up here. I didn’t want them to see you like this. You’ve always been their rock. I didn’t know how it would affect them to see you so helpless and frail.”

     “I want to see them.”

     “I’ll have somebody bring them up. They’ll be so happy to hear your voice.”

     At that moment a nurse came into the room to check John’s vitals. She saw that he was awake and talking, and gasped. Then she ran back out of the room.

     John said, “Well that’s it. Our secret is out. Soon the room will be crawling with people. If we’re gonna make love we’d better do it quick.”

     Hannah said, “I’ll settle for just looking into your eyes. I’ve missed them.”

     She noticed him staring at her face, and suddenly realized how she must look.

     “Oh, my goodness. I must be a horrible fright. I haven’t washed my hair, or even had a decent shower, in days. And if I knew you were going to wake up, I’d have put on a little makeup.”

     He smiled.

     “You’ve never been more beautiful than you are right this minute. And as for the makeup, I’ve told you before. Some women don’t need makeup. For some women, all makeup does is cover up their natural beauty.”

     “Yeah, you silver-tongued devil. You’ve told me that before. And I’ve yet to meet even one of those women you’re talking about. But if you keep up the sweet talk, I may just take you up on your offer to make love after all.”

     Then the nurse returned, with two doctors and a second nurse in tow.

     “Oops,” Hannah said. “Too late.”

     John said, “Shucks!” and looked genuinely disappointed.

-37-

     By the time Chief Martinez and Frank Woodard walked in to John’s hospital room, the patient was napping again.

     Hannah stood up to hug Martinez, then shook Frank’s hand.

     “Are you any closer to catching the bastards who did this?”

     “I’m still running down some leads. I guess we were misinformed. We were told he was awake and talking.”

     “He is. I mean he was. He was awake for about twenty minutes, before he wore himself out and nodded off again.”

     “Oh, no…”

     “Oh, it’s okay. The doctor said that it’s a lot of work, physically and mentally, to carry on a twenty minute conversation after being unconscious for nineteen days. It wore him out. The doctor said he’ll come around again when his body rests some more.”

     Martinez was disappointed.

     “We wanted to ask him what he saw before he was shot.”

     “Oh, I can answer that for you. He didn’t see anything. He didn’t even know he’d been shot until I told him. In fact he didn’t even remember going to the field to pick flowers.

     “The doctor said that’s not unusual. That the memories of that day may come back at some point. Or they could be gone forever.”

     Frank was disappointed too. He’d been looking forward to finally meeting the man everyone in the SAPD spoke so highly of. But that would have to wait for another time.

     Hannah said, “Chief, I hate to ask. If it’s an imposition, just say so. But do you think you could have one of your officers pick up my girls and bring them here? They haven’t seen their daddy since he was shot and they’ve been going nuts.”

     “Sure. I’ll make it happen. Anything else?”

     “Would you spread the word to the department that John’s awake? And that he appears to be his old self? I know that a lot of his friends were worrying about possible brain damage. That he wouldn’t be the same after he woke up.”

     “Sure. I’ll be glad to take care of that too. And how about you? Do you want to finally go home and get some sleep now that you know he’s okay?”

     “Nope. As soon as you guys are gone I’m going to the vacant room next door and I’m going to shower and fix my hair. Then I’m going to put on some makeup and crawl into bed with my husband until he wakes up again. After nineteen days, he owes me some snuggle time.”

-38-

     As they walked through the parking lot on the way back to Chief Martinez’ car Frank asked him, “She doesn’t know that the man who shot her husband may be a cop?”

     “Nope. And we’re not gonna tell her, either. Not until we’re damn sure.”

     Back in the car and headed back to the police station, a thought suddenly came to Martinez’ mind.

     “Hey, do you want to hear my
second
favorite John Castro story?”

     Frank rolled his eyes, but there wasn’t much else to talk about. So he said, “Sure.”

     “When he graduated from the Police Academy, at the head of his class, I got a call from a Colonel Winsted from the United States Marine Corps. He said he was John’s commanding officer in Iraq when John lost his leg. He asked if he could come to the graduation.

     “So I reserved a seat for him at the head table, across from me, and we had a long talk at the pre-graduation dinner.

     “It turned out that Colonel Winsted was the first one who got the word when Congress approved the Medal of Honor for John’s heroics in Fallujah. The Hummer he was in was hit by an IED, and then he and his crew were pinned down by fire from insurgents.

     “Their radio was destroyed in the blast, and his handheld wasn’t working very well either. So it was some time before he could call in for close air support and evac.

     “Anyway, he was the only one who was still able to return fire, and his lower leg was gone. There were some stone buildings nearby, but he and his comrades were pretty much out in the open. So with half a leg gone, he returned fire, while dragging his buddies to the safety of the buildings. All the while trying to keep his tourniquet tight so he wouldn’t bleed to death.

     “Even when he was a Marine, they loved this guy.

     “Anyway, Winsted told John he was invited to the White House so the President could put the Medal of Honor around his neck.

     “But John had just been fitted with his prosthetic leg and was undergoing physical and occupational therapy. So Winsted told him it was up to him.

     “So John being John said that going would be a pain in the ass, and he didn’t particularly like the President. But he said he’d go if he could take the surviving members of his fire team to D.C. for a couple of days of sightseeing.

     “And that, my friend, sums up John Castro in a nutshell.”

     “Yeah, yeah. So he’s a nice guy. I just wish he saw the man who shot him and could give us a good description.”

     “Yeah. I was hoping that myself. Where do you go from here?”

     “I’m gonna put my rusty ballistics skills to good use and hope for the best. How much do you know about this Officer Benton?”

     “Good officer. Not great, but better than average. He was the subject of one internal affairs investigation about five years ago. A biker he busted showed up at booking beat all to hell. Claimed Benton pistol whipped him. The charge was deemed to be unfounded after the guy’s own gang told IA he’d been in a drunken bar fight.”

     “Is that all the paper you’ve got on him?”

     “Oh, the usual beefs. Citizen complaints claiming he wrote them speeding tickets when they weren’t speeding. Drunks saying he treated them too rough or falsified field sobriety tests because he had it in for them. In one case a man claimed Benton ‘disrespected’ him because he didn’t call him ‘sir.’ That kind of stuff. But every beat cop has to put up with that kind of crap. His file is no worse than anyone else’s.”

     “What do the other officers think of him?”

     “They generally like him. He’s not the life of the party, and some consider him rather aloof. But being a loner isn’t a crime.”

     “No. But attempted murder is.”

     “That, my good friend, is why you’re on the case. If Benton is guilty of attempted murder, I want you to prove it. And if he’s not, I want you to lay off of him. He is, after all, one of my officers.”

     They pulled into the parking garage of the SAPD and the chief parked in his reserved spot.

     As Frank opened the door and stepped out, Martinez said, “Hey, do you want to hear my
third
favorite John Castro story?”

     Frank quickened his pace and walked away, calling over his shoulder, “Definitely not.”

-39-

     Ranger Randy Maloney had accepted Tom’s invitation to join them on their last day’s ride to Castroville.

     When they reached the town’s outskirts, though, he asked them to hold up.

     “I’m afraid this is where we’re going to have to part ways, at least for a time.”

     But Tom and Sara had taken a liking to the young lawman.

     Sara said, “But why?”

     “I don’t want you to be associated with me. If I take one of their ringleaders and word got around that we rode into town together, they might retaliate by going after you. I don’t want either of y’all to get caught up in my business. And I don’t want to get distracted by having to stop what I’m doing and coming to rescue you if you get taken as a hostage for trade.”

     “Don’t worry,” she said. “Tom would never let me be taken hostage.”