Reunited by the Badge

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  “Can I get you anything, Dr. Reilly?” another nurse questioned.

  Paul shook his head. “Thank you. No. I’m good.”

  The two women exchanged quick looks. “The family was moved to the private waiting room outside the surgical area. They’re waiting for you there,” the first nurse said.

  Paul nodded and turned, moving swiftly in that direction.

  * * *

  The Black family were all sitting anxiously. Simone’s father was pacing the floor, Parker trying to get him to calm down and sit.

  The patriarch snapped. “I’ll sit when I know what’s going on with my daughter,” he was saying as Paul moved into the room.

  At the sight of him, they all jumped to their feet, throwing questions in his direction faster than he could catch them. He held up a hand to stall the comments and gestured for them to all take a seat. He moved to the empty chair beside Simone’s mother and took the woman’s hand, squeezing it gently.

  “Simone is still in surgery,” he started, pausing as he felt the emotion bubble in his throat and tears burn hot behind his eyelids. He took a swift inhale to regain his composure. “She was shot twice in the back. One bullet lodged centimeters from her heart and the other exited out of her abdominal area. There is a lot of internal damage. She has a wonderful team supporting her but it’s going to be a while before we know anything. Dr. Dayton is the premier cardiothoracic surgeon here at the hospital and he is working with Dr. Kennedy, who heads our surgical department. I trust them both with my own life, so she’s in the best hands. They’re doing everything they can to save Simone. Right now, she’s stable, but her condition is...is critical,” he said, his voice breaking.

  Judith pressed her free hand against the back of his and squeezed his fingers. Paul lifted his gaze to meet hers evenly. “What about the baby?” she asked.

  “Baby? What baby?” Vaughan snapped, taking a step forward. She shot a look around the room, then glanced back toward Paul.

  Paul looked from one face to the other, as well. Simone had planned to tell the rest of her siblings about the pregnancy at Sunday dinner. She’d been excited about sharing her news and had only hoped Ellington and Mingus—mostly Ellington—wouldn’t spoil the moment for her.

  “Simone is pregnant,” he said. “We were planning on telling you all this weekend. But we won’t know anything for a while. She’s lost a lot of blood and with her injuries and the stress on her body, they’re not sure she’ll be able to maintain the pregnancy.” His voice cracked a second time, hot tears burning against the back of his eyelids. Even as the words had left his mouth, Paul couldn’t begin to fathom what he would do if anything happened to either of them. But he knew it would break them both if they lost the baby.

  “That baby comes from good stock,” Jerome said. “He’s a fighter. He’ll be fine.”

  Paul smiled ever so slightly. Simone had already declared their child a girl so he could just imagine what she would have to say about her father’s proclamation. He welcomed Jerome’s optimism, no matter what the baby’s sex.

  “How long do they think the surgery’s going to take?” Mingus asked.

  Paul shook his head. “It might be a few hours. We just don’t know.”

  Silence filled the space and Paul realized he was struggling not to cry. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Simone’s father fighting back his own tears.

  “We gotcha, son. You can trust that. There’s not a soul here in this room, in this family, who isn’t here to support you. But Simone is going to need you more than she is ever going to need any of us, so have your moment, then pull yourself together. I have never trusted my baby girl with anyone before but I’m trusting her with you. Don’t make me regret that!”

  “Thank you, sir,” Paul said softly. He swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

  Parker stepped forward. “Can you give me a statement, Paul? It won’t take long,” he said. gesturing toward the door with his head.

  Paul nodded, rising from his seat. He followed Parker, Mingus, Armstrong and their father into the hallway.

  Parker paused for a moment as a family of three strolled past, then he turned his attention back to Paul. “What do you remember? We have a few witnesses who say they think the shooter was a woman. The hospital’s security cameras caught a glimpse of the car, but everything happened so quickly, we don’t have many leads.”

  Paul thought back to that moment and what he could recall. He’d been singularly focused on Simone, her hand pressed against his arm, her smile bright. Just the nearness of her had calmed his nerves and then all hell broke loose.

  But he did remember the car that had careened off, a late-model Jaguar, and only because he had looked up just as it sped toward the highway spinning rubber along the way. He hadn’t seen the driver, but he knew enough to give Simone’s brother a name.

  “Vivian Lincoln,” he said. “I’d bet my last dollar that if she didn’t pull the trigger, she knows who did,” he added, filling them in on all that had happened just an hour earlier.

  “Find her and bring her in for questioning,” Jerome commanded, “and call Judge Preen for a warrant to do a search of every place she’s shown her face in the last forty-eight hours. Make it as broad as you think you need it to be to get the job done.”

  Parker nodded. “Yes, sir. The media is also looking for a statement. What do you want me to tell them?”

  “We have no official comment at the moment. I am personally focused on my daughter’s recovery,” Jerome said. He turned toward Mingus, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Call your reporter friend. Leak whatever you think will help us get the most traction about this Lincoln woman and that damn drug company. Put the word out that if they had anything to do with this, I will be coming for them.”

  Mingus gave his father a nod and turned on his heel, disappearing toward the end of the hallway.

  “I need to stay with your mother, but I want you on this,” the patriarch said to his sons. “We’ll call you as soon as your sister gets out of surgery. Until then, you find who did this. Use whatever resources you need.”

  Armstrong and Parker nodded, both men exchanging a look. Each one extended his hand toward Paul, then bumped shoulders in a one-armed embrace. As he watched them disappear behind Mingus, Paul realized he was suddenly privy to the inner workings of the Chicago police force that few others were privileged to see.

  He recalled a previous conversation with Simone once, when the media and local politicians were in an uproar about their newly minted superintendent. People were in a furor about her father’s stance on police tactics. In a community with a historic distrust of law enforcement, he followed the law as long as the law allowed him to do his job to the best of his ability.

  When necessary, Jerome and company didn’t hesitate to walk a very fine line and the family didn’t always follow the rules of protocol to get the job done. For them, the ends justified the means. And unapologetically, they were determined to do whatever was needed to get justice for Simone. Paul was grateful for them because in that moment all he could focus on was Simone’s recovery.

  Jerome gave Paul a look. “My wife’s a strong woman but she’s having a hard time with this. She feels helpless and she just wants to do something to help Simone get past this. I should be out there looking for the shooter, but I need to stay close. Just in case,” he said.

  Paul nodded his understanding. “I know how she feels,” he said as they moved back through the door.

  Inside the waiting room, Judith sat with her legs crossed, her top one bouncing with nervous energy. “One of the nurses brought us coffee,” she said. pointing to a half-dozen paper cups filled with French roast. “If either of you is hungry, she said someone would gladly go get us something to eat.”

  “I don’t have much of an appetite,” Jerome said.

  “N
one of us do, Daddy,” Vaughan interjected. She rose from her seat to give her father, and then Paul, a hug. “Are you okay?” she questioned, eyeing Paul with visible concern.

  Paul gave her a look. He wasn’t okay. He was nowhere near being okay. He felt lost, and broken, struggling with being on the outside when he wanted to be by Simone’s side, ensuring everyone else was doing their job and doing it well. He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll be better when your sister is back in my arms, safe and sound.”

  Vaughan gave him a smile. “I have faith that will happen sooner than you realize.”

  Paul moved to the seat beside the matriarch. “Is there anything I can do for you, Judge Black?”

  “You can start by calling me Judith. We’re family and family doesn’t stand on formality.” She gently tapped the back of his hand with her palm.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The Blacks chatted casually together, everyone clearly trying to mask their concerns and frustration. Paul appreciated being able to catch up with Simone’s siblings, their discussions giving him something else to focus on. And even with the company to distract him, he still found himself wondering what might happen if surgery didn’t go well. The mere thought of losing Simone kept him on edge and barely able to function.

  It was almost five hours later when the two surgeons, the head of the obstetrical department and the hospital administrator came to speak with them. Everyone’s anxiety rose tenfold, the air so thick in the room it could have been cut with a knife.

  Paul jumped from his seat first, moving forward to meet them. His gaze shifted from one to the other trying to read their expressions. His heart raced, his blood pressure sky high. “How did it go?” he questioned anxiously.

  “How’s my daughter?” Judith asked at the same time, her hands wringing nervously together.

  Paul reached for the matriarch’s hand, tangling his fingers with hers. Judith gave him a slight squeeze, a gesture meant to calm them both. Jerome moved to his wife’s other side, an arm sliding around her waist as they all stood holding each other up.

  “If you don’t mind, why don’t we all take a seat?” Dr. Dayton said. “We’ve been on our feet for a good little while. Now, are you all related to Simone?”

  “We’re her parents,” Jerome answered. “Dr. Reilly is the father of our daughter’s baby and these three are her siblings.” He pointed toward Vaughan, Ellington and Davis who hovered behind them.

  Paul seemed to read the man’s mind. “You can speak freely. I’m sure Simone’s mother, Judge Judith Harmon Black, will confirm they have Simone’s healthcare proxy. And I’ll personally attest that Simone would want you to disclose her information to her family.

  The hospital’s administrator nodded in agreement. “It’s fine,” Dr. Clarke said. “I know them personally and the Black family have been long time supporters of the hospital.”

  As the family moved to sit back down, Dr. Kennedy picked up the conversation. “Simone came through the surgery nicely. She’s still in recovery and we plan to keep her there a little longer before we move her to ICU. There was significant internal damage and bleeding but luckily the bullet in her abdomen didn’t hit any vital organs.”

  “The bullet lodged near her heart was trickier,” Dr. Dayton said. “It was just a millimeter away from puncturing the left chamber. We also didn’t realize until we got in there that she had a third bullet lodged just an inch from her aorta,” he continued. “We successfully removed them both and don’t anticipate any residual complications.”

  “What about the pregnancy?” Paul questioned, his gaze turning to the third physician in the room. Anxiety flooded through him, the nervous energy spilling out of him.

  Dr. Mabel Tripodi smiled, the gesture consoling. “Only time will tell. But you’ve got a strong little guy there and his mother is even stronger. We are going to treat her pregnancy as a high risk for now. You need to understand that Simone’s body has been through major trauma. And it’s also still very early in this pregnancy. Right now, I’m concerned about her blood pressure. It’s been a little sketchy and that doesn’t help. If it becomes too much on Simone and the baby, with everything they’ve both been through, there is always the risk her body will spontaneously abort, and she’ll miscarry.”

  There was a collective gasp as that news settled in. Paul took a deep breath, his knees beginning to shake and the muscles across his back tightening. The news wasn’t anything he hadn’t expected, but hearing it stated out loud wreaked havoc on his already shaky nerves and he struggled to maintain his composure. He had questions, many of them, but he wanted to be respectful of her parents and the concerns he knew they had.

  “When can we see her?” Jerome questioned.

  “It’ll probably be at least another hour and only two of you at a time for a few short minutes. The ICU nurses are a tough bunch, so don’t be offended if they throw you out at any time,” Dr. Kennedy said.

  Dr. Clarke interjected. “Superintendent Black, Judge Black, I want you to know that your daughter is receiving the best medical care. I’m sure Dr. Reilly will attest to the fact that she has the best team rooting for her recovery. And if there is anything at all that I or my office can do for you, please do not hesitate to contact me. We hate that this happened. And Superintendent, I’m sure you know better than any of us how much we all wish we could do more to combat the tragic shootings that occur daily here in Chicago.”

  Jerome nodded. “I appreciate you and your staff cooperating with my men. We definitely want to get as many guns off our streets as we can.”

  Paul stood up, about to burst out of his skin. “I’d like to check on Simone, please.”

  “She’s still in recovery,” Dr. Dayton said. “That’s really not...”

  “I know the protocols,” Paul replied firmly.

  Simone’s physicians exchanged a quick look with the administrator.

  “That should be fine,” Dr. Clarke said. “As long as you have no objections, Superintendent? Judge Black?”

  “None at all,” Judith answered. “Dr. Reilly is the father of our daughter’s baby and one of her emergency contacts. She trusts him explicitly and he is privy to all her medical concerns. He has our permission to advocate for her health however he sees fit.”

  “Thank you,” Paul said.

  “I’ll walk with you,” Dr. Tripodi said. She shook hands with everyone in the room and she and Paul made their exit.

  When they were out of earshot, the family behind them, Paul asked, “Colleague to colleague, Mabel, what’s her prognosis? Are we going to lose this baby?”

  “Paul, you know better than any of us that I can’t answer that with any certainty. Simone has a long recovery ahead of her. This pregnancy isn’t going to make that easy. Only God knows for certain what will happen from here. Friend to friend, I will do everything in my medical power to help you both see this pregnancy to term. But if I were you and you believe in a higher power, I’d start praying.”

  Paul nodded his head slowly. “Praying is the only thing I’ve been able to do.”

  Chapter 17

  Hours after surgery ended, Paul was back in his hospital office when the Black brothers came strolling in. It was well after midnight and Paul had been there most of the day. He’d spoken to his brother twice, Oliver promising to be there on the next flight headed out of Atlanta. Simone was resting comfortably in the intensive care unit and they had specific instructions to contact him immediately if there was any change to her condition. Her mother had refused to leave, and the last time Paul had gone down to check on her, they had made Judith comfortable in a reclining chair in the corner of the room.

  The brothers all found a seat, making themselves at home. It didn’t take rocket science for Paul to figure out they were there about the case and he was eager to hear what they had learned.

  “Have you seen the news?” Ellington ques
tioned.

  Paul shook his head. “No. Why?”

  “You need to,” Davis responded. He reached for the remote control on the small television in the corner of the office and turned the device to the local news station.

  The evening newscaster was standing on the steps of the hospital, a microphone in hand. The hospital signage was just over his left shoulder, the angle just so to capitalize on the location and put him screen center. The lights from the emergency entrance illuminated the shot.

  “This is Wesley Wallace and I am here at Northwestern Memorial Hospital where a thirty-four-year-old attorney and former state prosecutor is in critical condition, suffering from gunshot wounds and struggling to survive!”

  The camera transitioned to a shot of the hospital steps where the offense occurred; multiple police officers stood around assessing the scene. The reporter continued. “Right now, a community is sending up prayers for the daughter of the Chicago police Superintendent, Jerome Black. His daughter, Simone Black, was critically wounded by gunfire in a drive-by shooting this afternoon. Friends and family posted these images of Ms. Black, a local attorney now in private practice, on social media. Her parents and family are by her side in the hospital tonight and are asking for prayers.”

  The camera spotlighted two nurses, capturing their comments in quick sound bites.

  “My heart goes out to the family. I can’t begin to imagine what they must be feeling.”

  “This was such a senseless crime!”

  There were more shots of the crime scene and the police as the reporter continued to narrate the story.

  “Police say Ms. Black was preparing for a press conference to announce a class-action lawsuit against drug giant Lender Pharmaceuticals and the hospital’s decision to pull the drug Halphedrone-B and two other blood-pressure medications pending the results of an FDA investigation into contamination allegations. Right now, police are looking to see if cameras picked up the assault and images of the shooter who is still out there. They are not saying whether or not Ms. Black was targeted.”