by V. K. Powell
“Yes, ma’am, assault on an officer. She’s already cuffed.”
“Secure her in a vehicle, have the other officer watch her, and come back inside.”
A few seconds later, Brooks stood at Bennett’s side. “You do realize you’re bleeding, right, Captain?”
“So I’ve been told. He must’ve caught me between the side panel of my vest and my utility belt. Locate the bottle and take some pictures before the scene is disturbed. You’re in charge of security until your supervisor arrives. The place will be crawling with officers shortly. Make sure every officer who comes through that door signs the crime-scene entry log with his name and badge number. Don’t let anybody bully his way in. Understand, Brooks?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Officer Brooks located the bloody beer bottle under a chair a few feet from where Bennett had struggled with the suspect and snapped pictures on her phone. She started toward the door, and Bennett added, “You did good.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
The first person on the porch was Jazz, and she wasn’t happy. “Let me in this damn door, Officer, or I’ll go through you.”
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant Perry, but I can’t let you in without authorization. Captain Carlyle’s orders.”
“Authorization? I’m your lieutenant, and I’m authorizing you to let me in the house.” Jazz’s tone held the high pitch of stress.
“Then sign right here, ma’am.” Brooks held out the log, and Jazz impatiently scribbled the necessary info on the page.
“Let her in now, Brooks.”
Jazz crossed the threshold, made eye contact with Bennett, and immediately came to her side. “Are you all right? You’re pale…and there’s blood everywhere. Is it yours?”
Bennett nodded. “Hand this guy over to one of the officers for processing. He’s charged with assault on a female, two counts of assault on an officer, and resisting arrest.”
Jazz quickly escorted the suspect to the front door, handed him off, and returned to Bennett. “He cut you.” She was staring at the floor where the bottle neck had come to rest, and her tone said what Bennett had been thinking since the sting in her side occurred.
“I didn’t have time to draw my pistol. The suspect was about to lunge, and the officer was like a deer in the headlights. I pushed him aside.”
“You put yourself between a suspect with a weapon and another officer?” Bennett didn’t answer, but Jazz cupped her elbow and guided her toward the door. “Let’s get you to the hospital before you bleed out.”
“The injury isn’t that bad.”
“You might wish you’d bled out once G-ma and Mama hear about your heroics.”
Bennett took a deep breath to combat a sudden bout of dizziness as she stepped out on the front porch. Officer Brooks eyed her and started to reach out, but Bennett squared her shoulders and said, “I’m counting on you to brief the crime-scene tech, file a report, and make sure the proper charges are filed.”
“Yes, ma’am. I won’t let you down.”
“No. I don’t believe you will.”
Bennett walked toward Jazz’s vehicle, and the male officer who was guarding the female suspect said, “Captain Carlyle, I’m sor—”
“Don’t.” Jazz held up her hand to keep him away. “I’ll deal with you later.” She settled Bennett in the passenger seat of her vehicle, grabbed a bandage from her first-aid kit, and handed it to her. “Press this against the wound, hard.” Then she drove toward the hospital, blue lights and sirens activated, without saying another word, her features a solid mask of anguish and her left hand worrying a few strands of white hair into a knot.
They parked at the emergency room ambulance bay, and Bennett said, “Don’t be too hard on the rookie.”
“What? He almost got you killed.”
“He’s new, and in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re bleeding all over my car, and you’re as pale as G-ma’s starched table doilies. Let’s get inside.” She wrapped her arm around Bennett’s waist as the automatic doors swished open into the ER. “Even rookies should be able to keep their wits in an emergency. If not, they don’t need to be in police work. Fear gets people killed.”
“Can we talk about this later?” White spots danced in front of her eyes, and she reached for something to steady herself, missed the check-in desk, and slumped to the floor.
When Bennett opened her eyes again, her family hovered on one side of her bed in the small curtained exam area, anxious expressions on their faces. Dylan and Jen stood on the other side. “Hi, everybody. What’s going on?”
G-ma play slapped her leg. “What’s going on? You almost scared the daylights out of us, that’s what.”
“I’m fine.”
“She keeps saying that,” Jazz said.
Mama stepped closer and placed her hand on Bennett’s forehead. “I’m so happy to see your pretty brown eyes again. You had us worried.”
“But I just got here, right?”
“Afraid not.” Dylan checked her pupils and adjusted an IV drip. “You’ve been out for several hours, long enough for us to stitch you back together and for two coffee runs and a doughnut-retrieval operation across town. Simon needed an injection of breaded sugar.”
“Of course he did.” Bennett laughed, but a sharp pain in her side cut it short.
“Easy.” Dylan pointed to her right side. “You’re very lucky. You’ve got a jagged laceration to your side, which required deep stitches.”
“Hurts like hell, so what’s the lucky part?”
“The suspect wasn’t using a longer piece of glass or a knife. He lacerated the skin and fatty tissue, nicked the external oblique muscle before glancing off your rib cage and fortunately missing your liver. Like I said, lucky.”
“Does that mean I can go home now?”
Mama shook her head like a bobble toy on steroids. “I don’t think so, young lady.”
Dylan placed her hands on her hips in a stance so much like Mama that Bennett had to smile. “That’s probably not a good idea. Why don’t we admit you for observation overnight, as a precaution.”
“No thanks. I want to go home to my bed. And I want to go back to work, soon.”
“I’m afraid the work part isn’t happening as soon as you’d like. The skin will heal relatively quickly, but the muscles, which you need for twisting and turning, will take longer. If I know you, you won’t stay behind a desk.”
“So, what about going home then?” Being confined, unable to be in the field or even at her desk, made Bennett anxious and jittery.
“Come on, Ben, be reasonable,” Jazz said. “We’re not about to let you check out and go home alone. If you leave, you’ll stay at the house so we can keep an eye on you.”
“Listen to your sister,” G-ma said. “She’s making a lot more sense than you are right now.”
“Could be the pain meds.” Bennett glanced at her little sister and begged.
Dylan’s expression softened as her resistance dissolved. “The only way I’ll discharge you tonight is if you have around-the-clock care for the next twenty-four hours, either at your place or at home. I don’t care which. Can you promise?”
“Of course.” Bennett started to get up, but the pain again stopped her abruptly. “A little help, guys?” She scanned the faces gathered around her bed, but no one moved. She looked at Jen, and she winked.
“If it’s all right with the family,” Jen said, “I’m getting off in thirty minutes and would be glad to look after the grumpy invalid.”
The family exchanged a few glances before G-ma and Mama reluctantly nodded. “At least she’ll be close by,” Mama said.
“It’s settled then. Thanks, Jen.” Bennett could tell by the look on Mama’s face she wasn’t happy about the arrangement but didn’t want to create a scene in the hospital. “I’ll be fine, Mama. Jen is an excellent nurse. Isn’t she, Dylan?”
“Absolutely.” Dylan leaned close to Bennett’
s ear and whispered, “You owe me so big-time for this one. I’ll collect very soon.”
Chapter Sixteen
Four days in New York would normally be a good thing, but on the last day Kerstin paced, her shoulders tense and her emotions totally out of sorts. She’d come back early for her mother’s birthday and snuck out the past two nights after she’d gone to bed for a little recreational activity. The city provided ample distractions, but even her sexual rendezvous hadn’t tamed her unease. Every time she touched another woman, she remembered Bennett’s smooth skin, how responsive she’d been, and how desperately she wanted to caress her again. Kerstin’s nerves were on edge, and she ached for a connection she’d never known. To make matters worse, Valerie and her mother were sneaking around, whispering, and laughing behind Kerstin’s back, which didn’t help her disposition.
“Yo, Kerstin,” Valerie said. “Hell—o.”
“What? Yes. I’m here.”
“Doesn’t seem like you’re here this weekend.” Valerie put her fingers to her lips and inclined her head toward Elizabeth’s room. “Let’s go for a walk before she wakes up.”
Kerstin nodded and grabbed a light coat on the way to the elevator. An unusually warm spell had brought some of the flowers out prematurely in the park, and they dotted the path around the perimeter, their fragrance a welcome respite from dead, decaying leaves. “So, what are you and Mother up to this weekend? You’re skulking around, obviously up to no good.”
“We have a surprise for you when she wakes up.”
Kerstin stopped, and a jogger almost slammed into her. “You know I hate surprises.”
“You’ll like ours. Promise.” She nudged Kerstin forward. “Keep walking before somebody runs you over.”
“Give me a hint?”
“You first.”
Kerstin’s attention shifted to a tall, lean woman stretching in the park. Her hair had the same rich color and wavy texture as Bennett’s. “Sorry?”
“My point exactly. What have you been thinking about for the past three days? Bennett Carlyle perhaps?”
At the mention of Bennett’s name, Kerstin stopped again, and this time Valerie pulled her off the path in time to avoid a collision. “Talk to me, Kerstin.”
“It’s annoying that you read me so well.” She stopped to admire a few sprigs of goldenrod, but Valerie nudged her. “If you must know, the substation project is a big mess, and I’m not sure I can salvage it. Gil totally screwed up the plans, and the changes are going to put us over budget. Whizzing back and forth between two places every week and living out of a suitcase while trying to have a life isn’t as easy or as much fun as I remember. And Greensboro is nothing like New York.”
“In a good or bad way?” Valerie pointed to an empty bench.
Kerstin’s feelings poured out without preparation. “Both, I guess. There’s the obvious difference in social activities, ethnic restaurants, and sheer body mass. The people seem friendlier and operate at a much slower pace. Greensboro lives up to its name with lots of trees, flowers, green spaces, and parks and would probably be a great place to start my firm, especially with the emphasis on sustainable housing and an easier market to break into as well.”
Valerie eyed her hard. “So far I’m not hearing anything good about the city.”
“New York has significantly more entertainment, especially of the intimate variety. I was so desperate I actually…”
“You what?”
“Never mind.”
“You’re about to dish something real juicy.”
“I shouldn’t.”
Valerie raised her hands. “Have you and Bennett at least had a conversation?”
“Sort of, partially, not really. We…I mean, I…” Her face flushed.
Valerie’s expression indicated she knew exactly why Kerstin was stammering. “You had sex with her.”
“Keep your voice down, please.”
“Seriously? In New York City? I’m sure people are having sex right now, in this park, in broad daylight. Tell me everything.”
Kerstin put her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands, unable to meet her aunt’s questioning stare. Seconds ticked by as she gathered courage. “I did my usual thing.” Valerie didn’t have an immediate comeback, so Kerstin looked up.
Valerie shrugged. “I have no idea what that means. Without getting too specific, because I’m not sure I want the details of my niece’s sex life, what are you saying exactly?”
“Yes, we had sex and I basically treated her like an escort—wham, bam, but without the thank you, ma’am. I tiptoed out in the middle of the night. Not my proudest moment.”
Valerie stared at her for a few seconds. “That’s only problematic if she wants more. Does she? Is she the fling type or the white-picket-fences forever type?”
“I have no idea. She seemed fine the next day, very cool and casual.”
“And since?”
“Haven’t seen her again, not even at work.”
“But you’ve talked on the phone?”
Kerstin shook her head. When she said everything aloud, she sounded like a scoundrel. If a woman treated her the way she’d treated Bennett, she wouldn’t speak to her again. Maybe that was why she hadn’t heard from Bennett. Kerstin was very clear that she only wanted a fling, but maybe she and Bennett hadn’t actually had the conversation. Damn.
“I should’ve known better, especially with a coworker. Always a bad idea.” She glanced at Valerie, her eyes soft and sympathetic. “I’ve really messed up, haven’t I?”
“Not necessarily, but it all comes back to the same point—knowing what you want and telling her.” Valerie urged her to her feet. “Let’s head back. Elizabeth is probably awake, and you could use the surprise I promised.”
The elevator pinged at her mother’s penthouse, and Valerie dashed down the hall toward Elizabeth’s bedroom. Kerstin heard mumbled conversation and shuffling around for half an hour before they emerged.
Valerie peeped around the corner of the hallway and motioned toward the kitchen. “Move over to the kitchen island.”
“What are you two playing at?”
“Get over there, please.”
“Listen to your aunt, Kerstin Anthony,” her mother called from farther down the hall.
“All right, I’m going.” She grabbed her cell phone and perched on a stool at the large granite island. “In position.” A sliver of anxiety crept up her spine as she waited for the big surprise.
Valerie cleared her throat and thrust her arms apart. “I give you Mrs. Elizabeth Grayson Anthony, high priestess of the order of independent women.” She bowed and brushed her hands forward as if presenting the Queen.
Elizabeth walked down the hallway without her walker or cane and barely a detectable limp. Dressed in form-fitting black slacks and jacket with a bright-red blouse, her blond hair twisted into a tidy braid, she was the image of stately perfection. Her eyes rested on Kerstin as she moved, pleased but expectant.
“Mother, you’re walking, without assistance. You’re absolutely fabulous.”
“Yes, I am.”
“When…I mean…how?”
“Stop babbling, dear. It’s unattractive.” Her mother grinned, pride evident on her face.
“How long have you two been planning this little event?”
Valerie smiled but allowed Elizabeth the spotlight. “Since the day this dreadful thing happened. I’ve worked poor Valerie rather hard and been quite demanding.”
“It was totally worth the effort,” Valerie said, coming to her side. “Isn’t this the best?”
“I couldn’t imagine anything better.” Kerstin slid off her stool.
Elizabeth held up her hand. “Wait. I want to come to you. And I do have one other little surprise for the day, if you’ll indulge me.”
“Anything,” Kerstin said. “Today you’ve earned whatever you want.” Tears slid down her cheeks, tears of pride and admiration at her mother’s accomplishment. She’d once feare
d Elizabeth might not walk unassisted again or regain functional use of her left arm, but she’d underestimated her mother.
“I’ve taken the liberty of making a reservation for brunch at Peacock Alley. We can celebrate my newfound independence and have a nice meal before you head out of town again.”
“The ritzy place in the Waldorf Astoria?” Kerstin groaned internally. The last time they’d gone there, her mother had set her up with the son of a lawyer friend.
“Yes, and I promise it’ll be only the three of us. My treat.”
Valerie, always within a couple of feet of Elizabeth’s side, winked at Kerstin. “Well, who can resist a free meal?”
“Absolutely. Give me fifteen minutes.” She stopped on the way to her bedroom and gave her mother a huge hug. Elizabeth squeezed her with both arms, and Kerstin’s tears fell freely.
Kerstin dressed for their outing and wondered what decisions her mother would make about her future now. Where would she want to live? Would Kerstin figure into those deliberations at all? Should she? The benevolent and loving part of her was elated with her mother’s progress, but the selfish and controlling part that wanted everything to remain the same was terrified.
Chapter Seventeen
Kerstin hit the equal key on her calculator and drew a red circle around the total of the column of figures on the page. She dropped her pen and faced the setting sun, enjoying its warmth and the gentle breeze through nearby oak trees. She loved working surrounded by nature at the picnic table behind the substation. If she had questions, she ran inside, and if the contractor had issues, he knew where to find her. The memory of her first real conversation with Bennett in this spot still lingered and brought her a sense of peace and cautious hope.
“Ma’am?” A uniformed officer stood offering her a sandwich and a Coke. “Mrs. Carlyle asked me to bring this over. Sorry I’m a bit late. I had an emergency call.”
“Mrs. Carlyle?”
“The Ma Rolls lady.”
“Yes. Thank you.” She accepted the offering, pulled some money from her bag, and stood to offer it to him.
