Without Compromise (16 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Josie was surprised to arrive in her new room to find flowers already waiting.

              “I hope the last patient didn’t leave these,” she commented, “because they’re beautiful.”

              Doris touched one of the petals, “Who would have thought of sunflowers and roses?”

              Molly pulled out the card and handed it to Josie, “One guess as to who sent them.”

              Josie wished she had a way to hide her blush. She opened the envelope and took out the card. The front of the card had a picture of a man dangling from a frayed rope, bored look on his face. The caption read, ‘Hang in there.’

              Josie laughed softly and opened the card. The inside said, ‘You’ll feel better soon.’

              She read those lines to her family and showed them the picture before reading the personal note from Tag.

I thought you might like a little time with your family, so I’m going to run to the station for a couple hours. I’ll stop in and see you before I head home. Heal fast.

              Josie was disappointed that he hadn’t come back up to say goodbye, but she wasn’t too surprised. If she had to place a bet, she would guess Tag was either lifting weights or pounding the punching bag back at the police station.

              “That was nice,” Sol sat in the window.

              “It was,” she agreed, knowing her father had more to say. And, if she knew her father, she would not have to wait long before he said his piece.

              “I think the boy is searching for a way to fit Jesus into the man he knows he is. It’s an identity issue.”

              Molly laughed, “You always fall back on the identity conflicts, Dad.”

              Sol pointed a finger at his elder daughter, “Only when it is relevant.”

              Josie yawned. Her sister and father could debate psychology theories for hour.

              “Okay,” Doris piped up. “Time for us to let the invalid convalesce.”

              Sol and Molly didn’t argue; they just picked up their things and followed Doris from the room, informing Josie they would be back later.

              Josie fell asleep but not before she gave instructions to the nurse that she was to be wakened if Tag showed up. She was not thrilled to wake three hours later to the nurse’s ministrations.

              “Hi, Josephine,” this one was a little too chipper for the surgical wing. “I’m  Sunny.”

             
Of course.

              “I’ll be your nurse this evening.”

              “Hi, Sunny,” Josie sat the bed up a little further. “I’m going to go use the bathroom.”

              Sunny’s smiled didn’t falter, “How about I bring you a bedpan instead?”

              Josie threw the blanket off her legs, “How about I use the bathroom, and we forget the bedpan. We’ll all be a little happier then.”

              Sunny cheerfully moved the side table out of the way and stood beside Josie as the patient hobbled to the small room.

              “I’ll take it from here,” Josie pulled the iv pole in after herself.

              She was prepared to use her iv pole as a weapon should the nurse attempt to join her in the small room, but Sunny simply pulled the door closed.

              Josie emerged from the bathroom minutes later to find Sunny had not abandoned her. She was standing midway between the bathroom and the bed. She didn’t offer to help Josie, but she did watch her patient with a judicious eye. Josie washed her hand to the best of her ability and went back to the bed.

              “I suppose you need to do some poking and prodding,” Josie perched on the edge of her bed, not yet ready to lie down again.

              “Not much. I mostly came to ask you if you need any pain medication.”

              Josie took stock of her injuries and pain, “No. I don’t think so. I’ve had some pretty scary drugs floating through my body the last couple days, and they’re planning on doing it to me again tomorrow to fix my ACL. I think I’ll just hold off.”

              Sunny typed that into the computer, “I was surprised when I found out they were going to repair your ACL so soon after your accident.”

              Josie wondered if that was disapproval she heard in the nurse’s voice.

              “I’m here anyway. May as well kill two birds with one stone.”

              Sunny glanced up from the computer and made eye contact with Josie, “I assume they discussed the danger of having the surgery so soon.”

              “Yes, but he also discussed the danger of letting the injury go untended,” Josie took a sip of water, “I can’t afford to be off my feet too long, and, as far as waiting or doing it now, it seemed like six of one and half a dozen of the other.”

              Sunny didn’t respond to that.

              A knock sounded on the door. Josie grabbed at the back of her gown to ensure it was closed.

              Sunny, who had a clear view of the door, looked up. Her eyes widened as she looked back at Josie.

              “It’s the cops,” she leaned in and whispered the words.

              Josie pulled her legs up into the bed, “Tag?”

              “Sorry,” Jeremy came into view, followed by Harry. “Just us.”

              Josie couldn’t help but be disappointed, but she managed to keep a smile on her face, “Hi, guys. What bring you by here?”

              Jeremy handed her a balloon, “Tag said there was a hostage situation down here, so we came to bust you out.”

              Sunny shook her head, causing her ponytail to bounce, “None of that. Josephine has to stay in bed until after tomorrow’s surgery.”

“Josephine?” Harry took the chair closest to her, beaming with this new information. Jeremy coughed a little, “Does Tag know?”

              Josie looked up at her nurse with a raised brow, “Do you need anything else, Sunny?”

              That woman shook her head, “Call me if you need anything.”

              “Perky,” Jeremy commented from the window seat.

              “Yeah, a little.”

              “They gonna keep you in here long?” Harry gave her a once over.

              “I tore my ACL, so they’re doing that surgery in the morning. Then it’ll be 24 hours.”

              “Bored yet?” Harry smiled.

              “Completely. Did you happen to bring some cards?”

              “You play poker?” Jeremy stood up.

              “Sure,” she wondered if he really did have cards on him. “Or Old Maid if you’re afraid of that.”

              Jeremy scoffed at that as he left the room.

              “Isn’t it against your religion to play poker?” Harry frowned at her.

              “My religion?” she wondered what exactly it was that Tag had said.

              “Yeah. Gambling and all that.”

              “We can play for tongue depressors,” she arranged her blankets around her folded legs and pulled the table over her lap.

              Jeremy appeared with a deck, “The nurses’ station had a deck.”

              Harry ended up on the foot of Josie’s bed while Jeremy claimed the chair. They played for an hour before a knock on the door alerted them to a newcomer.

              “I see you’re getting plenty of rest,” Ken deadpanned.

              “Ken,” Josie smiled up at him, “these officers came to make sure I didn’t try to leave the hospital.”

              “I’m sure,” he set a balloon bouquet down on the counter. “And you just decided to play a little five card stud while they were guarding you.”

              Harry didn’t budge, but Jeremy stood up and offered his hand, “Jeremy Granger. Who are you?”

              “Ken Barry.”

              Harry kept looking between Ken and Josie, his eyes narrowing every time they lit on the man.

              Josie rolled her eyes at the show of testosterone.

              “Ken, this is Harry Jacobson. He’s Tag’s partner.”

              “Oh,” Ken’s face relaxed a bit. “I should have made the connection.”

              “Ken is my agent. He’s probably in here to make sure his cash cow hasn’t injured herself permanently.”

              “Don’t be ridiculous, Josie,” Ken laughed. “You’re more like a heifer.”

              Harry laughed at that.

              Josie smiled, accustomed to Ken’s strange humor.

              “Don’t worry, Ken. I’ll be back on my feet long before February.”

              Jeremy asked about the significance of February.

              “She has a contract that begins then,” Ken jumped in before Josie could give specifics.

              “Did they find someone to finish the shoot?” Josie knew time was too tight for putting that off.

              “They decided not to do it. They figured if Josie Drake couldn’t manage it, it shouldn’t be done.”

              Josie narrowed her eyes, “Did you watch the footage?”

              He nodded.

              “Then you know it wasn’t me.”

              Ken glanced between the men and back to her, “We can talk about that when you’re back on your feet.”

              “Ken, I don’t want a law suit or even a settlement,” she leaned forward, “but I never want him holding me up again. Frankly, the man shouldn’t even be allowed to do stunts.”

              Ken’s mouth straightened into a firm line, “I’ll take care of it. You just focus on getting better.”

              Ken didn’t stay much longer for which Josie was glad. She was a little unnerved by the mingling of Tag’s world and hers.

              “What was that about?” Harry barely waited for the door to close behind Ken.

              Josie shook her head, “I can’t divulge that right now.”

              They didn’t appear to like that response, but neither argued with her.

              Jeremy grabbed the deck, “I’m dealing this time.”

              “Does Tag know what’s up with the accident?” Harry watched the other officer handle the cards.

              “We haven’t had much time for talking.”

              “But you will, right?”

              Josie shrugged, “It may come up.”

              Jeremy’s chuckle rumbled low in his throat.

              Harry glared at him.

              “Guys,” Josie spoke up, “could you just leave it alone? What’s going on or not going on between Tag and me is between Tag and me. I appreciate your concern. I know how much you love him.”

              They were skeptical. She could understand that, but she needed them to stay out of her business. Jeremy quirked a grin at her, but Harry clearly wanted to argue his position a little further.

              “I love him,” she admitted without shame. “But sometimes that isn’t all it takes. Whether we can work this out or not, we’ll do it all a lot better without meddling.”

              Harry finally nodded and looked at his cards, “I fold.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR             

Tag went to work on Saturday morning with a headache. He rarely suffered from them, but he knew what had caused this one.

              “You have a hot date last night, Madden?” Pahl questioned him as he stood at the coffee pot.

              Tag knew it was a fair question, but it still irked him.

              Burkheimer clapped him on the shoulder, “It’s been a while, Madden. Welcome back to the game.”

              Tag shrugged off the hand and stomped to his locker.

              Harry followed him, “You had a date?”

              Tag almost answered the question but decided it was none of Harry’s business. He changed the subject instead.

              “I heard we have a warrant today.”

              “Yep,” Jeremy came around the corner, far too chipper for Tag’s liking. “We get to go SWAT today.”

              The men rode toward the home that was going to be searched. The team realized they were probably going to be waiting a while. The department typically used SWAT to execute search and arrest warrants only in volatile situations where there was expected to be a violent reaction. On occasion, they were also called in because there was a need to work quickly.

              They weren’t surprised to have the detectives’ captain come to give them a rundown of the situation. They were surprised when Captain Morris told them it would only be fifteen minutes before they were ready to begin the proceedings.

              “Fifteen, ma’am?” Lowell was as confused as his men.

              “Maybe less, Sergeant Lutz,” she leveled a glare at him. “Get ready.”

              Lowell turned to them and pointed his finger in the direction they were to go.

              Prince and Granger were sent to the back of the house. They were quiet, but they looked about as subtle as foxes in a henhouse with their full gear on, rifles at the ready.  Tag and Harry were assigned to the front door, so they followed Detective Harlan to the porch of the traditional middle class house.

              “Let’s pray this goes smoothly,” Harlan spoke quietly as they stood waiting by the front door.

              The captain’s voice sounded through the earpiece, “Now.”

              Harlan rang the doorbell, waited half of a second, and stepped back, “Have at it, guys.”

              Tag shifted slightly to get a better angle in case force should be necessary. He raised an eyebrow to indicate he was ready when Harry was.

              “NYPD,” Harry shouted and tried the knob. “Open the door.”

              No response.

              Tag did not hesitate to plant his heel firmly at the level of the deadbolt. The door splintered, and the men were in.

              Harlan led a sweep of the home before determining the suspects had fled. By the time CSU arrived, the SWAT team was preparing to leave.

              “Not as exciting as I had hoped it would be,” Prince popped a piece of gum into his mouth, “but it beats the beat.”

              Jeremy laughed at the pun.

              Harry and Tag headed for their own vehicle.

              “You ever pray while we’re out there?” Tag asked as they stored their equipment in the back of the SUV.

              Harry rounded the car and climbed into the driver’s seat.

              Tag waited for a response but didn’t get one. He figured Jacobson must think he was nuts.

              Harry drove back toward the station, “I’ve prayed before.”

              Tag leaned away from the other man to get a better look.

              Harry chuckled, “I was just thinking. I heard you.”

              “When have you ever prayed?”

              Harry chewed his lip a minute before answering, “The time I had to shoot that kid – the one on crack. I prayed that the kid would die of the drugs, so I wouldn’t have to shoot a fifteen-year-old while his mother watched.”

              Tag’s stomach clenched at the memory.

              “And when you were shot. I prayed real hard then.”

              “How’d you know how to do it?”

              Harry glanced over at him, “How to pray? Praying is easy. It’s having the faith that anyone is listening that’s so hard.”

              Tag wondered if he was making it out to be harder than it really was.

              “I grew up in church,” Harry continued. “It’s not that I don’t believe in God now – I do – I just have trouble believing he’s in control of everything.”

              Tag wasn’t sure how the whole religion thing worked, but he wondered how God could have the power to take a life or save it but didn’t control everything. If there was a God, but He didn’t control everything, who did?

              “You asking because of what Harlan said or because of Josie?”

              Tag lifted his shoulder in a noncommittal answer, “A little of both, maybe.”

              “You want my opinion?”

              “Sure.”

              Harry stopped at a red light and turned to meet Tag’s eyes, “Everyone knows I’m not a religious guy, but I can see a benefit in having some kind of relationship with the Guy who made me.”

              Tag wondered when they had jumped to the assumption that Tag was willing to put his belief in the creation theory.

              “So you don’t believe in evolution?”

              Harry looked up at the light to see it change. He proceeded through the intersection, “I guess not. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it? I mean – they want us to believe that there were just always these particles of matter out there. Doesn’t it make sense that someone had to make it all?”

              Tag snorted, “How does that make any more sense? Who made God?”

              “I’d sooner believe in a God that always was than in a world that just made itself.”

              Tag wondered how they got on this conversation when they had never touched on it before.

              “Maybe you’re right, but then don’t you think you have to go the whole way?”

              “Whaddya mean?”

              “If you believe that God created the universe, then most of the Bible’s gotta be true.”

              “Sure,” Harry didn’t sound like he was following.

              “That means that God is all-powerful, and He did make those laws.”

              Harry turned into the station parking lot, “That would be a natural assumption.”

              Tag was almost finished, “And that all-powerful God is just sitting around twiddling His big thumbs while we break every single law He ever made?”

              Harry parked the car and looked at Tag.

              “I see where you’re going with this, Madden. You want to know how a loving God could possibly let people do what they do?”

              Tag shook his head, “No. Who’s talking about a loving God? I’m just wondering what God is doing – letting us live – when he could decimate us. I mean, if I was God, I’d rid the earth of this batch of humans and try again.”

              Harry laughed, “Nice picture, Tag. I kinda remember something about this from when I was a kid, but the old memory’s not what it used to be.”

              They got out of the car and headed inside.

              “You know who could probably help you out,” Harry suggested as they were stashing their gear.

              Tag looked at him.

              “Josie,” Harry checked his rifle.

              Tag didn’t have any good answers, but he was pretty sure asking Josie was a bad idea. She would think he was only doing it to get her to date him. He knew he had started looking into the religious matters because of her, but he was finding now that he needed to know himself.

              The men were soon back out on patrol.

              “I bought a Bible,” Tag admitted to Harry as they drove through their assigned neighborhood.

              “You going to read it?”

              “I read some last night.”

              Harry glanced over, “On your date?”

              Tag glowered, giving Harry a reason to laugh at him.

              “I should have known you weren’t out trying to forget Josie.”

              “Forget Josie?” Tag’s frowned deepened. “Why – how could I do that?”

              “With a date. You were up reading all night – not out on a hot date.”

              Tag shook his head. He knew he was going to sound nuts to Harry, but he opted for the truth.

              “I know she isn’t committing to me, but that’d feel like cheating.”

              Harry looked like he was about to respond, but a call came over the radio telling them to get to the scene of a mugging. The conversation would have to wait.

              Tag finished his shift and changed into street clothes. He wondered if he should bring Josie more flowers as an apology for not coming back or calling. He decided against it and opted to walk to the hospital to get rid of some of his nerves.

              The walk didn’t help. By the time he arrived on her floor, Tag was more unsettled than before. He vacillated between telling her nothing about his questions and opening the passages he had been reading to beg for an explanation.

              He bypassed the elevators in favor of the stairs and ran to the fourth floor.

              Grateful that Harry had informed him she was out of intensive care, he made it to the right room. He stood outside her door long enough that a nurse approached him.

              “May I help you, sir?”

              He looked down at her, “No, ah,” he kept his voice down, “I was just thinking that maybe I should’ve called her before I came. I mean, she could be sleeping.”

              The nurse smiled, “I was just in there five minutes ago. I don’t think she’s sleeping.”

              Tag shifted his feet, “I’m not sure she wants . . .company.”

              Actually, he was just not sure she wanted to see him.

              The nurse knocked on the door, “I’ll check and see.”

              “You’d better tell her who it is,” he cringed as he spoke after her retreating back.

              “You have company, but he wanted me to check and make sure you were up to it.”

              “Sure,” Josie sounded chipper.

              “He said I’d better tell you who it is, but I didn’t catch a name.”

              Tag cursed his stupidity.

              The nurse glanced at him, “Um. A little taller than average.”

              Josie must have asked for a description.

              “Blue eyes, blond, good-looking. Seems kinda nervous.”

              He heard Josie huff before she spoke again – this time loudly enough for him to hear clearly, “Is he bearing gifts and wearing an expression of complete remorse for abandoning me?”

              Tag leaned his head against the door frame, “No, to the first, but I’d be happy to go buy out the gift shop – or max out my credit card down there – if you’d just give me a chance to apologize.”

              The nurse laughed as she sidled past him, “She’s smiling, so I assume that means you should go in.”

              He came in holding his hands in a pose of surrender.

              She was sitting up in bed, and they had taken the bandage off her head, “You look beautiful.”

              Josie blushed, “Molly came over and did my hair and makeup for me. She thought she was going to have to cut some of the tangles out, but she managed to save it all.”

              He sat in the chair, “I’m sorry, Josie. I was a bit overwhelmed.”

              Her brows gathered just slightly.

              “I know that isn’t an excuse,” he hurried to assure her. “I know I should have manned up and come back.”

              “Tag,” she reached out and touched his arm, “you don’t owe me. You don’t owe me an explanation or your time.”

              He grasped her fingers, “I want to.”

              “Tag, I can’t keep relying on you. We both know this relationship can’t go any further.”

              Tag felt sick. She had told him this before, but something in her tone struck a nerve.

              “Jo,” he stopped her before he could go further, “can you tell me why it makes such a big difference – what I believe, I mean?”

              “Please don’t get mad, Tag,” she pleaded with him, tears beginning to form a trail down her cheek. “I’m going to tell you, but I don’t want you to get mad and blame God.”

              He didn’t know how to do anything but nod dumbly.