Treachery Rising (MidKnight Blue Book 4)
Page 8
“That’s not the point,” Rick said, sounding annoyed.
“Not for you, it isn’t,” Angela said. She changed tactics. “You still love her, don’t you?”
“Why?” Rick was feeling beaten up for the second time that day.
“Because I think you should make sure that she knows that.”
“She won’t care,” Rick said confidently.
“I think you’re wrong.” Angela stood, patting him on the arm as she walked toward the door. Rick sat staring at the wall for a long time, not sure what to make of the conversation he had just had with his girlfriend’s mother about his wife.
Chapter 4
Three days later, Randy was fit to be tied. She was lying on the couch with Dick when she received a phone call from one of the sergeants at the academy.
“We have a problem, Cadet Curtis.”
“What is it, sir?” she asked.
“It seems that your request for a unit ride-along was turned down by the unit supervisor,” the sergeant said, his voice indicating that he thought something fishy was going on.
“Did she give a reason, sir?” Randy asked, her stomach starting to churn with anger.
“Oh, yes, and it’s the reason I’m a bit concerned about.” The sergeant paused, giving her a chance to chew on it for a moment. Randy couldn’t imagine Midnight being unprofessional enough to blatantly blackball her from a unit ride-along; she certainly didn’t imagine that Midnight would have actually told them why.
“What reason was that, sir?” Randy asked, trying to keep her voice calm. Dick was watching her now, anger evident on his face as well.
“Well frankly, cadet, she said that she thought your behavior at the academy, as well as that of Cadet Dickerson, was far too aggressive and adversarial, and that she’d prefer that that type of behavior remain outside of her unit. What have you got to say for yourself, cadet?” The sergeant’s voice indicated that he believed what Midnight had told him, and that he was seriously considering whether or not he wanted either her or Sarah at his academy.
“I…” Randy stammered, not sure what to say, her anger full blown now. Fucking bitch! was all her mind kept screaming. “Well…” she began again, fighting valiantly to regain her composure. “I believe that I may have been a little insolent, sir, and I am indeed very sorry for that. I will take it upon myself to go and apologize to her. I hope that I will still be allowed to go on the usual departmental ride-along, sir—I know that it is an important aspect of my training, and I certainly don’t want to miss any of it.” Randy sounded very sincere, and the sergeant couldn’t fault her too severely for a one-time insubordination. He would, however, note it in her file, in case it became a pattern later on.
“That shouldn’t be a problem, cadet, but just watch your step from now on. You can learn a lot from your superiors, you know, and you should try to be more open to that.”
“Oh I will, sir, believe me.” Randy’s eyes were narrowed as she mouthed the appropriate words. Oh yes, she would learn from Midnight’s example, alright.
A half hour later, Randy and Dick sat in front of Midnight’s house.
“I’m going in with you,” Dick said as she moved to get out of the car.
“It’s okay,” Randy said. She wanted to do this for herself.
“I won’t say a word, I’ll just stand there quietly.” He held up his right hand. “I swear.”
Randy laughed. “Okay, but I want to handle this.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Dick saluted her.
Randy walked up to the door and rang the bell.
A few minutes later, Midnight answered, looking tired. Her eyes narrowed when she saw that it was Randy. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice turning to ice.
Randy stepped inside the door, causing Midnight to take a step back. “I want to know why you tried to get me kicked out of the academy.” She was instantly angry.
“Oh,” Midnight said, pretending to be sympathetic. “Problems, dear? Maybe that’ll teach you who to play with.” Her look of disgust flicked behind Randy to Dick. “And who to stay away from.”
“You bitch!” Randy said, her hand balling into a fist. Midnight saw it and looked at her pointedly.
“I don’t think you want to try that.”
“Oh, I don’t think you know what I want to do,” Randy said, surprising Midnight by taking a swing at her. Midnight dodged, but caught her boot heel on the threshold into the living room and fell backward. Randy let her anger drive her after Midnight, trying to take advantage of her downed opponent, but Midnight sprang to her feet. Her eyes reflected the anger that was flooding her veins.
“You dumb fucking kid, didn’t you learn anything last time?” She moved deftly as Randy charged her, ending up standing behind the girl. She had mistakenly turned her back on Dick Dickerson though, and he grabbed her, pinning her arms behind her. Midnight didn’t fight his hold. Instead, she remained calm until he stepped down the single stair into the living room, then she jammed her booted foot down on top of his. He cried out in pain and released her. She wheeled on him, jamming her shoulder into his chest and shoving him back into the entryway, but he surprised her by grabbing ahold of her as he fell.
Midnight struggled to get up and away from him, but Dick was fast, used to dealing with hookers trying to make a break for it. He grabbed her leg and yanked it out from under her. She fell heavily to the floor, but she launched a kick at his face with her other foot, catching him in the cheek.
“You fucking bitch!” he snarled, grabbing her foot and dragging her over to him. Midnight braced her other foot against his chest, pushing herself away and rolling to stand. But Dickerson jumped up right behind her and again grabbed her from behind. When she struggled and kicked him in the shins, he howled. Utilizing his powerful build, he threw the much smaller police officer against the wall. Midnight sank to the floor, unconscious. Randy had watched the entire scene, horrified. She’d never seen Dick so violent, and she was terrified that she had instigated the fight in the first place.
“My God!” she said, staring at Midnight’s motionless form, then at Dick, who was breathing heavily. He had a nasty bruise starting on his cheek already. He didn’t look the least bit upset; in fact, Randy reflected, he looked proud of himself. He walked over to the leader of FORS and bent down, feeling for a pulse. Randy felt like she was going to throw up, the idea that Midnight could be dead far too much for her to take.
Dick looked up and saw how pale she was. “She’s alive,” he said, his voice unemotional. “But we’d better get out of here—wouldn’t look good, you know.” He grabbed Randy by the hand and dragged her out as she looked back at Midnight.
“Shouldn’t we make sure she’s okay?” Randy knew she was letting things carry her away.
“She’s fine, she’ll probably just have a bad headache later. No biggy, serves the bitch right for trying to end your career before it even starts. Probably doesn’t want you around Joe so she can keep fucking him.” He had said the right words, and Randy walked away with him. They got into the car and drove off.
It was almost forty-five minutes later when Midnight woke up. She noted the blood first; her head was bleeding from her contact with the wall. Her body ached everywhere. When she stood up, she grew very dizzy and had to run to get to the bathroom before throwing up. Afterwards, her stomach ached from the violent retching. She looked in the mirror, noting that she looked pretty bad. She had a dark bruise that had started on her cheek, reaching up to her eye. Her head pounded mercilessly.
She looked at her watch and realized that she had about six hours till Rick dropped Mikeyla off. She had taken the afternoon off to try and straighten up and get prepared for a weekend with her daughter. She’d only been home a few minutes when Randy and the wrecking ball had shown up. Reaching into the medicine cabinet, she grabbed a bottle of aspirin. It was the kind that made you sleep; she was hoping that if she could rest a little bit she’d feel better. She took the aspirin and proceeded t
o throw them right back up. By the time she was done retching, her whole body ached again and her head felt like it was going to come off. She took some more pills, managing to keep from gagging this time. She went into her room and lay down on the bed, kicking off her boots to try and get more comfortable. Within minutes she was asleep.
Rick stopped the car near the door, noting that Midnight’s Corvette was parked further up the driveway. He got out of the car, helped Mikeyla out of her seat, and then walked her to the door. He unlocked it and opened it for her. “You go on in, baby.” He didn’t want to get into another fight with Midnight at the moment. He kissed the top of his daughter’s head.
“Bye, Daddy!” Mikeyla said as she ran inside.
Right as he drove up to the Theland house, Rick’s cellular phone rang. He picked it up as he got out of the car and walked up the steps.
“Hello?” He closed the front door behind him.
“Daddy!” It was Mikeyla, and Rick could tell she was crying. What did you say this time, Midnight?
“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?” Rick said, leaning against the bannister. Angela appeared, surprised at seeing him on his cellular phone.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Mikeyla was screaming, and Rick could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“Mikeyla!” Rick yelled, trying to get her to talk to him. “Tell me what’s wrong, baby. I can’t do anything if I don’t know. Is it Mommy?” he asked, thinking that Midnight had gotten mad at the child and yelled at her.
“She won’t wake up, Daddy. She won’t wake up!”
Rick’s blood ran cold. “What do you mean, baby? She’s asleep?”
“Yes, and there’s all this red stuff everywhere.”
Rick’s knees buckled and he almost dropped the phone. Angela rushed to him, helping him to the stairs. Seeing that all the blood had left his face, she knew something awful was happening. She took the phone from him and put it up to her ear.
“Mikeyla, sweetie,” Angela said soothingly. “Honey, I need you to calm down for me. What’s happening?”
Mikeyla sniffled, still crying. “My mommy won’t wake up. She’s asleep and there’s all this red stuff.” Angela closed her eyes; she knew what had made Rick weak in the knees.
“Okay, honey,” she said, not letting any of her panic show in her voice. “I want you to hang up the phone and then dial 911. Do you remember what those numbers look like?” she asked, hoping Mikeyla would listen to her.
“Yes,” Mikeyla said, brightening a little.
“Okay, do that now, honey, and tell them what you told me. Your daddy and I will be there in just a few minutes. You’ve got to be brave for your mommy, okay?”
“Okay,” Mikeyla said, obviously buoyed by the idea that she could help. “Will she be okay?” she asked, needing reassurance.
“Sure she will, honey, she’s just sick,” Angela assured her, not sure if Midnight was even alive. “Now you call, honey.” She heard Mikeyla hang up the phone, and then did the same.
She called out for the butler and ordered him to have the car brought around immediately. “Is there a problem, ma’am?” the butler asked, seeing Rick’s face.
“Yes, now go—and hurry!”
She turned to Rick, who looked deathly pale. There were tears in his eyes. “Now you,” she said, pointing at him, “try to pull yourself together. Your daughter can’t see you like this, or she’ll panic too.” Rick nodded, still feeling quite sick.
A few minutes later, when they were in the car, Angela dialed Midnight’s number; the line was busy. She hoped Mikeyla was on the phone with the emergency operator. When they got to the house there was no ambulance, but that wasn’t surprising considering it had only taken them ten minutes; Angela had instructed the driver to break every law he had to in order to get them there quickly.
Rick jumped out of the car before it even came to a complete stop. He hit the front door at a dead run and continued his headlong course toward the bedroom. He skidded to a stop in the doorway. Midnight lay on the bed, a dark bruise on the side of her face. He moved closer, and that was when he saw the blood. Mikeyla was right—it was all over the bed.
“No!” Rick fell to his knees. “Midnight! Oh God, please!” He was crying and yelling at the same time.
Angela had located Mikeyla in the kitchen, still talking to the 911 operator; she took the phone from the girl and began answering what questions she could. The operator indicated that an ambulance should be there at any moment. Angela told Mikeyla to go out and tell the chauffer to help flag the ambulance down. Mikeyla was happy to help—she could hear her father’s voice calling her mother’s name over and over, but she was afraid to go back into the bedroom. When Angela heard the sirens she told the operator that the ambulance had arrived. The operator indicated it was okay to hang up, telling Angela that her granddaughter had been very brave. Angela didn’t bother to tell the woman that she wasn’t Mikeyla’s grandmother, but she thanked her all the same. She walked toward the bedroom. She could hear Rick’s cries and knew that she was probably about to see something she really didn’t want to. She walked into the room and almost fainted at the sight she beheld.
“Oh lord,” was all she said. The young woman who had seemed so powerful only days before looked very small and very frail, lying on the bed in what looked like a huge pool of blood.
“Come on, baby,” Rick was saying, tears streaming down his face. Midnight had not moved or made a sound. He had felt for a pulse and hadn’t been able to find one. His hands were shaking so badly he prayed that he had just missed it. She felt very cold, and there was no color in her face or her hands.
When the paramedics came into the room they instructed Rick to move away from her so they could work. Rick stood staring down at the woman he loved, not even sure she was still alive. Angela put a supportive hand on his arm. Mikeyla ran into the room, her eyes darting from Rick to her mother. She ran to her father, and he picked her up. She buried her face against his shoulder, her copper-blond hair mingling with his light brown curls, which fell past his shoulders. Rick held his daughter close, praying that he wasn’t watching her mother slip away from them. He couldn’t control the tears that continued to flow, which made it more poignant when Mikeyla reached up and touched her finger to his wet cheek. She was dealing with this the only way she could, by distracting herself with things like the feel of her father’s cheek when he cried. She knew something very bad was happening, and she knew that it had to do with her mother, but she had no idea that the paramedics weren’t the magic cure for whatever ailed Midnight. She figured that because they had come, everything would be fine and her mother would sit up in a few moments and hold her too.
Her mother didn’t sit up. She lay motionless on the bed as the paramedics worked on her. They had detected the merest pulse and had looked at each other, almost sure that this one wasn’t going to make it. It looked like a good portion of the woman’s blood was soaked into the bed she lay on. Her blood pressure was alarmingly low. They could see that they needed to get her out of there and into the ambulance; the pressure of the family, including the beautiful child who had hailed them excitedly minutes before, watching them, waiting for them to tell them that she’d be okay, was too much. They didn’t want to be there when her pulse stopped all together; they didn’t want to hear the child’s cries when she realized the woman that was very obviously her mother wasn’t coming back, or hear the devastated screams of the man that was obviously the child’s father when he lost what was apparently someone he cared for very deeply.
“Okay,” Jim Olson said. “Let’s move her.” They exchanged a look, each knowing what the other was thinking.
“Okay,” Tamara Keating replied, her face grave. She hadn’t lost a patient yet, and she was beginning to understand what Jim had been trying to tell her in the last year that they’d been partners. She had tried to tell him that he just needed to toughen up, but he had always shaken his head, telling her that she’d understand wh
en it happened to her. Now she was beginning to. She thought about her daughter and husband, and the idea of her daughter growing up without her made her want to cry.
The paramedics moved Midnight to the ambulance. Rick had decided it would be better for Mikeyla if he stayed with her, and they followed in the Thelands’ car. Mikeyla’s hold on his neck had tightened uncomfortably when the paramedics took Midnight out. Rick was dying inside. He knew that if they didn’t tell him anything, they didn’t think she was going to make it—paramedics were trained not to give false hope to the family.
The ride to the hospital was excruciatingly long. Rick kept praying that it was a nightmare and he’d wake up soon. Standing at the counter inside, it hit him again that Midnight might well be dead. That he’d never get to hold her again, never have the chance to tell her how much he loved her. He had to hold on to the counter to keep from crumbling. Angela saw the state he was in and made a point of taking Mikeyla off to show her the pretty pictures nearby.
Rick waited for what seemed like forever. Finally, he went up to the front desk and told them that if they didn’t find out where his wife was, he was going to go looking for her himself. The nurse could tell by the look on his face that he meant it. “I’ll get on it right now, sir,” she said, moving his paperwork to the top of her stack. She made some phone calls and found out that Midnight Chevalier was in a critical condition. She had lost an extreme amount of blood, and they had actually lost her pulse a number of times. The nurse did not want to be the one to tell Rick. She called a doctor over and told him what was happening, aware that both the woman in emergency and the man waiting to hear were local police officers. The doctor nodded, understanding why the nurse was unwilling to be the one to give the man the news.
The doctor, Tom Duhane, walked over to where Rick stood staring unseeing out the window. Dr. Duhane saw an older woman sitting not too far away engaged in a conversation with a child of about two years old. The nurse had indicated that the child was theirs.