Shotgun, Wedding, Bells

by Joanna Campbell Slan

  Anya chimed in. “George Lowenstein was my first dad. Detweiler is my second father. It’s cool that we have more than one, isn’t it? Most kids only get one, and if he’s a loser, that’s tough.” This explanation, plus a big sisterly hug, went a long way toward making Erik feel better. He adores Anya. Although he might not have totally understood what we were trying to say to him, he was mollified. If having two dads was okay by Anya, it was super-duper fine by Erik.

  Then there was Joe, himself. His personality worked to convince Erik that all was well. With or without his clerical collar, Joe radiated a spirituality that set him apart from other people.

  Clancy described it as, “A special glow. It must be where the painters came up with the idea of a halo. He has this aura. You can’t quite see it, but you definitely can feel it.”

  Standing there in the ER waiting room, I was definitely in need of his good vibrations. As he hugged me and murmured a blessing in my ear, a sense of peace descended over me. When he let me go, Laurel wrapped her arms around me. Now I knew I could get through this. I wasn’t alone anymore. My friends had arrived to help.

  “Tell us everything.” Laurel’s nose and cheeks were pink from the cold. She and Joe led me to a clump of chairs. In fits and starts, I tried to reconstruct what had happened. Both asked questions, trying to make sense of my disjointed rendition. When I got to the part about attacking the gunman with a pitchfork, Joe and Laurel smiled at each other.

  “That creep didn’t know who he was tangling with.” The priest nodded his head approvingly.

  “Which of you is Mrs. Detweiler?” A voice interrupted. I popped to my feet as a woman in pink scrubs looked from me to her clipboard and back again. “Detective Detweiler is awake now. You can come say hello to him, but you can't stay long. Your friends can come and wait for you in the family lounge.”

  Laurel and Joe held onto me as I followed the nurse into an elevator. On the next floor, a jerk of the nurse's head indicated the seating area. My friends gave me a quick hug before I followed the woman down the concrete block corridor and into Room #222 at the end of a quiet hallway. My mind moved much faster than my feet. I planned to say, “Honey, you forgot to duck,” which was what Ronald Reagan said to his wife Nancy after the attempt on his life. The quip would sound both cheery and upbeat.

  But when the nurse left me at the door, and I got my first look at the man I loved in a hospital bed, all those cheery thoughts flew right out of my head. I wasn't prepared for seeing Detweiler in such a vulnerable state. I'd grown accustomed to depending on him. His size, his strength, and his personality had always made me feel secure. But the figure in the hospital bed appeared helpless and small. The machines and tubes attached to his body frightened me. They turned him from a man into some sort of an alien.

  All of these impressions were visceral. Cognitively, I knew the tubes and machines were there to help. Detweiler was still Detweiler. He hadn't shrunk in size. Nor was he less vital than before.

  Then there was my pledge. I'd promised to stand by him “for better or worse.” Only a coward would turn tail and run now.

  I was frozen there on the threshold, unable to make my feet move when I saw a glimmer of gold. It was his wedding band, the ring I'd slipped on his finger only hours ago. I hurried to his side. He appeared to be sleeping, but he must have sensed my presence because his eyes flickered open. He mouthed the word, “Hi.” I leaned in to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Woozy. Hadcho?”

  “He's going to be okay. Robbie is trying to get me cleared to visit him.”

  “Who's taking care of you?”

  “Laurel and Joe. Your parents are on the way.”

  He nodded. “Water?”

  I grabbed the plastic cup and straw. Guiding it carefully to his lip, I offered him a sip. I decided not to tell him what I'd learned about Sheila, but for his own sense of well-being, Detweiler needed to know that security precautions were being taken. “Robbie thinks that maybe our shooters are vigilantes dissatisfied with the Keith Oberlin situation.”

  “I'm surprised he told you. We're keeping a really tight lid on everything.” His brow puckered in a frown.

  “I guess he had to, didn't he? Someone was shooting at us. We have no idea who or why. So Robbie ordered a security guard to be posted between Hadcho's room and yours.”

  Even while lying in a hospital bed, Detweiler still thought like a cop. “We'll know more as soon as they ID the man Brawny brought down.”

  Very carefully, I propped myself up on the side of his bed, resting one hip on the mattress. “I think I need to take knife-throwing lessons from her. She's really something.”

  “Uh-huh. Are you sure the baby is all right?”

  “Harry insisted that the ER docs check us out. We're both fine. In fact, this little guy is practicing his field goal kicks. I am more worried about you. What if the gunman comes back?”

  “I'm not sure I'm the one they were after.”

  My stomach did a free fall. “W-w-what?”

  The nurse stuck her head into the room. “Time's up. That's it for now. Sorry.”

  “Sure.” I acted like I was leaving by getting off the bed and grabbing my purse. But that was a ruse because I needed to hear what Detweiler was thinking. Instead of hurrying out, I moved as slowly as I could.

  He watched me with an expression of concern. “Be careful, love. Those men might have been aiming at you.”

  CHAPTER 25

  “What?” I sounded like a broken record. But before I could get an answer, the nurse stepped between my husband and me.

  “Time to go.” She scowled and glanced up at the clock.

  Out in the hall, I marched straight to the nurses' station. “I know that security is on the way, but in the meantime, someone needs to be protecting Detectives Detweiler and Hadcho. They are in danger.”

  An older woman in lavender scrubs stared up at me from a pair of bifocals. “We've been told that a uniformed officer is on the way.”

  “That's not good enough. These creeps came after me and my children. That means all of you are at risk, too. Don't you have security in this hospital? Someone who can sit outside their rooms as a deterrent?”

  Her frown depended. The expression on her face suggested she was too tired to care. So I threw another log on the fire. “What if someone shows up here and starts shooting? You'd make easy targets. You don't want a bloodbath on your hands, do you?”

  The ugly picture I'd painted shocked her into action. Picking up the phone, she talked to someone about getting a guard on the floor, temporarily. When she hung up, I said, “Thank you. I wasn't being an alarmist. I really am concerned.”

  “Got it.” She went back to her paperwork.

  Laurel guided me to a sofa in the visitors' lounge. After I staggered to a seated position, she grabbed my hand. “Joe and I will stay with you tonight. We've called the house. Brawny will switch off with us in the morning.”

  “How's Detweiler?” asked Joe.

  “Guys, I have something to tell you,” I began, hesitantly. “Detweiler thinks the gunmen were shooting at me.”

  Laurel and Joe exchanged long looks. Finally, he said, “Kiki, do you really think that Detweiler is in any shape to make such a judgment? Respectfully, he's pretty doped up right now. I thought that it took a ballistics expert to judge the trajectory of bullets. But he didn't get the chance to review the crime scene, did he? From what Brawny just told us on the phone, one minute you were saying your vows, and the next minute mayhem broke out. When would he have found the time to think through the angles at which the shots were fired?”

  His logic was straightforward. It also made sense. I took a shuddering breath, as I agreed. “Maybe he's being overly protective.”

  “Mrs. Detweiler?” A uniformed county officer joined us. “I'm Luke Pinscher. Police Chief Holmes assigned me to the task of safeguarding Detectives Hadcho and Detweiler's rooms.”

&
nbsp; The nursing supervisor was staring at me.

  I gave her a tiny wave.

  So I'd hassled the woman for no good reason. I wanted to sink down into the sofa and bury my head under the cushions. Maybe I could find a loose quarter or two. As Officer Pinscher walked down the hall, I turned to my friends. “If Robbie Holmes is worried about Hadcho and Detweiler, then he must not think the gunmen were after me.”

  “When did you last eat?” Laurel stood up.

  “Um, around two? What time is it?”

  “Half past six. I'm going to run downstairs and grab some food for us.”

  “You might as well get comfortable, Kiki.” Joe hailed a passing orderly and followed the man to a supply closet to bring us blankets and pillows.

  I was sitting there by my lonesome when a hysterical Thelma Detweiler burst into the family lounge.

  CHAPTER 26

  “Calm down, calm down,” I said, as she threw herself at me. Thelma's winter coat smelled of wet wool and stale perfume. Her hands were bare and snowflakes dotted her hair. Louis was a few steps behind her.

  “I-I-I want to see my son!” Her face was contorted with grief, and her eyes wet with tears. Although she tried to wrestle herself away, I held on tightly.

  Louis looked as if he'd aged a dozen years.

  “Chad is resting. I spoke to him. We have to let him sleep. Thelma? Be strong. We have to do what's best for him!”

  The urgency in my voice acted like a slap to her face. She stopped mid-sob. Her body relaxed. Louis put his arm around her shoulder. Repeating my words, she said, “Best for him.”

  “That's right. He's been through a lot, but he's fine now. You can talk to the nurse.” I gestured toward the supervisor. To her credit, she stood and gave the Detweilers a calm smile.

  “You promised me you'd hold it together.” Louis chided his wife.

  This was a turn-around, a reversal of their roles. I'd always seen Thelma as the calm person in the household. But it was Louis who seemed in charge of his emotions, although one glance at his shaking hands suggested he was working hard to stay in control.

  A pile of blankets and pillows walked toward us. After he'd dumped them, I introduced the Detweilers to Joe Tinsley. “Actually, it's Father Joe, but that was confusing to the kids, so we simply call him Joe.”

  “A priest,” murmured Thelma.

  The Detweilers worshiped in a Methodist church not far from their home. With a pang, I realized that seeing a man in a clerical collar might be unsettling.

  “Joe's a good man and a friend. He's Laurel's boyfriend. She ran down to get food for us. Have you eaten?”

  “I'm not hungry.” Thelma turned bleary eyes on Joe. “A priest.”

  I wasn't sure whether she was merely stunned or unhappy, so rather than jump to defend Joe, I kept my mouth shut.

  Thelma sniffled. “I'm glad you're here, Father. I've been praying up a storm. Kiki, you certainly know how to bring people together. I swear, you have more friends than anybody I know.”

  The “old” Thelma returned. I gave her a quick squeeze. “They came as soon as I called. Luckily for me, their street had just been cleared. What about you? Did you have trouble getting here?”

  Louis sank down into one of the overstuffed chairs. “We were lucky. By the time we got your call, they'd made one pass with the snowplow. The highways are clear. At least for now. The biggest problem is the number of cars off the side of the road.”

  Laurel arrived with a bag full of sandwiches and chips. After greeting the Detweilers, she reached into the paper sack. “I brought a dozen sandwiches of different types. Chips, too. How about if I go and get coffee? Or colas? What would everybody like?”

  Once she had our drink orders, Laurel and Joe headed back down the hall together. Although I thought I couldn't eat a bite, the tuna fish salad on whole wheat proved irresistible. Gulping it down, I realized I was actually starving.

  “Who's with the kids?” Louis picked up a turkey and cheddar sandwich on whole wheat.

  “Brawny. Their Aunt Lori and Leighton are there, too.”

  “Are they okay? They didn't see Chad get shot, did they?” Thelma was sniffing at a ham and Gouda on sourdough bread.

  Taking a deep breath, I explained about the intruder in the shed.

  Thelma stared at me. “Good grief. You fought him off? The kids must be traumatized.”

  “Erik wet his pants. Anya's sort of weird. She recently decided she wants to be a cop like Det—Chad—and Robbie Holmes, so I think she secretly was thrilled. But I have a feeling that they're actually in shock. We'll have to deal with it later. Remember, Brawny's had all sorts of training in child psychology. Of all the people who could be there with the children, she's the best prepared to help.”

  Louis frowned and set down his sandwich. “But are the kids safe?”

  I explained about Brawny taking out one of the creeps with her knife. “Leighton has a handgun. Gracie and Paolo are both there, and those dogs are formidable. Frankly, the kids are safer now than they were when all this went down. By the way, there's also an officer positioned between Chad and Hadcho's rooms. Really, we have every eventuality covered.”

  That was a little white lie. Who knew what we were dealing with? All I could hope was that we'd taken adequate precautions. There didn't seem to be any good reason for worrying the Detweilers.

  A new face walked by with a clipboard. “How's my husband?” I asked.

  “Are you Mrs. Chad Detweiler? I'm Elva, the night nurse. I'm going to check on him right now. If he's up to it, he can speak to family. For a very short visit.”

  Elva had thoughtful eyes and a sweet smile. All of us followed the nurse with our eyes as she walked away. As much as I wanted to see my husband, I knew that Thelma should visit him next. That was her baby boy in that hospital room.

  “Mrs. Chad Detweiler. That has a nice ring to it.” Thelma seemed to know I'd been thinking about her, as she gave me a hug.

  “I didn't get to kiss the bride,” said Louis, planting a respectful peck on my check.

  “That's right; we're legal now,” I said, grinning.

  “Tell us all about it.” Thelma handed her coat to Louis and snuggled beside me on the sofa. Laurel and Joe arrived with hot beverages. Tea never tasted so good to me. I'd grown accustomed to drinking it instead of coffee.

  “What did you wear?” Thelma gratefully accepted a cup of coffee.

  “You'll never believe it, but I had a gorgeous gown. Anya insisted that I have a white dress. As you know, everything was totally last minute. Brawny said she could whip something up, if she had material. Leighton volunteered his mother's damask tablecloths. Turns out, there was a trunk full of them in the attic. I don't know how Brawny managed to whip up a wedding dress, but she did. She even made me a hooded cape out of the same fabric.”

  I hesitated. I didn't want to tell everyone how close that first bullet had come. Nor did I want to explain that I'd given the EMTs the cape to staunch Detweiler's bleeding.

  “So the rabbi made it after all?” Louis was happily munching on pretzels.

  “No.” I explained about Lorraine. “I wish all of you could have been there.”

  “I bet it was beautiful. Even the commons around our apartment seemed magical with the ice coating all the bushes,” said Laurel.

  I sighed. “It was like a fairy tale. Sparkling, quiet, and other-worldly. Then the shooting started. Maybe we're jinxed. Maybe we should have been satisfied with what we had.”

  Joe had been standing to one side, listening quietly. “Jinxed? You don't really believe that, do you, Kiki? You are all alive, despite the gunshots. We're here to support you. I realize you've been through the wringer today, but I see a woman who's been blessed abundantly. How about if I say a prayer? Maybe that will help you chase away those negative thoughts.”

  “I'd appreciate that,” said Louis.

  Thelma nodded, and I added, “Please.”

  We all bowed our heads.

 
; “Father, protect your servant Chad Detweiler. Guide the hands of those who deliver care to him. Fill his body with strength and the will to return to health. Meanwhile, watch over his wife and his children and his family.”

  As we said, “Amen,” Elva came racing out of Detweiler's room. Her face was creased with worry.

  “What's up?” I asked, jumping to my feet.

  “Something is wrong. Really wrong.”

  CHAPTER 27

  I could only make out portions of her conversation as Elva pressed a button at her desk. “Send up an orderly. Call the surgeon. Prep the operating room. We need to get this man into surgery stat.”

  “What's happening?” I asked, but she didn't take time to answer.

  Instead Elva went racing away, running past the officer stationed in the hall. Throwing the door open, the nurse ran into Detweiler's room. I stood there on the threshold, staring after her until an orderly shoved me out of the way. With practiced utility, Elva and the young man moved in tandem, unhooking various monitors, gathering up tubing, and making an adjustment to the bed.

  “Out of the way!” She shouted at me, as they started pushing Detweiler's bed toward the door.

  And then I heard him groan.

  My knees turned to gelatin. His pain came from a place deep inside him. The sound he made was hollow with misery, as it signaled an almost animalistic struggle to survive.

  I ran along beside them. Out of the corner of my eye, I realized that the Detweilers, Laurel, and Joe were on their feet, watching us. “What's happening?”

  “I think he's bleeding internally.” Elva didn't miss a step as she led the way to the elevator. Her face had closed down, her eyes were narrow with determination and her mouth had thinned out. Wordlessly, the orderly punched the down button. The light above the elevator car clicked from one floor to the next, a slow-moving countdown.

  As I took Detweiler's hand, he moaned in pain. “Kiki?”

  The elevator had stopped on another floor. There was nothing we could do but wait.