Wounded Heroes Boxed Set

by Judith Arnold

  Whenever she got the opportunity, she’d rush to open her email and more often than not, find one of his waiting in her inbox. For a while, it had been the highlight of her day. But she’d put him off when he’d asked to meet because she was afraid to get involved with someone as dynamic, outgoing and athletic as the handsome cop. At one time, she’d dated men like him routinely. But now, she avoided his type. She avoided any type, really.

  Once again, she told Craig she wasn’t ready to meet yet, then discreetly ended the connection. For a few moments, she stared out the window. A breeze drifted inside, cool on her bare arms. Lush oak and maple trees swayed gently in the yard and she could hear the chatter of kids down the street. Dana loved this neighborhood, loved living here and appreciated the convenience of a house in the same suburb of Rockland, New York as her dance studio.

  Ruth Cosgrove came rushing into the room. The older woman was a housemate, business partner and all around best friend. "You’ve got to see what’s on TV," she said, already picking up the remote. Ruth switched on the large plasma television in the corner.

  One of the local channels appeared on the screen. A pretty woman stood in the foreground with a microphone in her hand, and behind her was a school building. Breaking News was scrolled across the bottom of the picture.

  "If you’re joining us now for the first time, police have been called to East High on Main Street for an apparent hostage situation." A remote camera panned the area—several cop cars with flashing red lights, fire trucks, and local TV station vans were at the scene. "No word has come out as to…" The woman raised her hand to her ear and listened. "Just in—shots have been fired by the gunman, and a police officer is down. I repeat, shots were fired by the gunman and an officer is down."

  Her hands shaking, Dana set her laptop on an end table next to the chair. "Do you think it’s JoeyD?" she asked Ruth.

  Her friend’s brow was deeply furrowed. "Could be. Didn’t he tell you he was in a special unit that dealt with incidents like school violence?"

  "Yes." Dana’s chest tightened as she watched additional cars pull up within range of the cameras and more cops rush into the school.

  The reporter continued, "We’re waiting on news of what exactly has happened. Meanwhile, we have a police spokesperson here with us." A sober-faced, older man joined her. "Lieutenant Jenkins, can you tell us anything? Which officer is down?"

  "I can’t reveal that information at this time. But I can assure the public that the team called in has had training in these kinds of situations and—" The cop’s cell phone rang and he answered while onscreen. After listening for only moments, he said, "Yes, yes…good. Great." The man’s lined face had relaxed when he clicked off. "The situation’s under control. The gunman has surrendered to the police."

  "What about the cop?" Dana said aloud.

  "What about the cop?" the reporter asked.

  "I don’t know his condition."

  At Dana’s side, Ruth squeezed her shoulder. The show of support was needed because Dana was terrified. Had JoeyD been shot?

  As they watched the coverage, Dana recalled some of Joe’s comments online about his job.… I love being a cop. My dad was one.… Nah, it’s not scary. Life in the department isn’t like they show it in movies. Do you know how infrequently police officers have to draw their guns?… I hated when my football career ended, but I was meant to do this.…

  The channel filled in time by showing photos of other recent school tragedies, interviewing experts on school violence and giving statistics. An excruciating hour passed at the end of which the reporter received more information. "The authorities identified the gunman as Holden Rupert, a seventeen-year-old honor student. No information on the reason for his actions. We do know that he shot through the science-lab window, wounding an officer, then surrendered. Apparently, the gunman was aiming for a teacher, but the policeman at the scene took the bullet himself."

  Dana whispered, "Oh, no."

  More waiting. Ruth got them coffee, then pulled another chair up next to Dana. At one point she said, "Maybe it’s not him. We still don’t know the cop’s identity, or how badly he was hurt."

  Unfortunately, Dana had learned firsthand the possible ramifications of fluke incidents. She’d been the victim of one herself and it had changed her whole life. Irrevocably. The officer was not safe. No one ever really was.

  Another hour crawled by before officials released the cop’s name. "The police have revealed that Sergeant Joseph D. Moretti is the downed officer. His injuries are not life threatening."

  Dana practically wilted. "Oh, thank God."

  After more details were given, Ruth crossed to Dana and stood in front of her. "Now listen to me, Missy. If you’re this upset because that man was in danger, you need to stop being so stubborn and meet him. Tell him the whole story and let him decide what he wants to do."

  "I’m scared, Ruth. Craig would be a better choice. JoeyD has such a presence, even online. He’ll overwhelm me in person."

  "You don’t know that. I haven’t taken a side before, but seeing you now, I’m certain I’m right. You were worried about him. He’s the one you want to date. Dana, sweetie, go after him. Stop being afraid."

  Ruth left her with that thought and Dana stared at the television, watching the aftermath but thinking about her friend’s words, knowing Ruth was right about Dana’s feelings.

  JoeyD had done for Dana what no man had been able to do in the last twelve years. Though they’d never met in person, in their emails, he’d made her feel young, vibrant and hopeful about having a romantic relationship in her life. He’d made her believe all things were possible. He was a realist, of course, any cop would be, but he had a basic optimism that engendered the same emotions in her. For so long, those emotions, that expectation, had been totally missing in Dana’s world view. And if she wanted to keep the wonderful feeling, savor it, she’d have to take the risk of meeting JoeyD. As she’d learned long ago, and now from the incident at the school, no one should put off what she wanted to do.

  ***

  ANNOYED AS HELL, Joe sat propped up in a hospital bed, his shoulder bandaged and needle-like pain radiating from his skull. His daughters were scrutinizing him, so he tried to act as if he was fine. They’d come to the hospital with his mother when Shelly had called her about the incident.

  His mom said, "I think it’s time for these young ladies to go home."

  Kara, eleven, and Kaelyn, seven, protested. Both of them resembled him with dark hair and eyes, though Kae was small and stocky. Kara was tall, slender, with a dancer’s physique. And, whereas Kae was shy, Kara was extroverted. She was the one to push tonight. "I wanna stay with Daddy."

  "Honey, I’m just waiting for my discharge papers. It’s late now and you’ve got your camp tomorrow."

  Kara frowned. "We’ll go home with you. We can take care of you."

  Joe’s older brother, Spence, stood and crossed to the bed. He was used to taking charge. "We’ll do that, Kara."

  Both Spence and Cole, the youngest in Joe’s family, had come rushing to the emergency room right behind the others. The three siblings had different fathers, and there was a wide age span between Joe and Cole, but as adults, they were close. His daughters, mom and brothers were the most important things in Joe’s life.

  Spence slid an arm around each of the girls. "Your dad’s going to need the kind of help you can’t give him. Go on home with Grandma. If you want, I’ll come get you in the morning and bring you back to his house so you can see him before you go on to your camps."

  Reluctantly, the girls agreed.

  "Well, that’s settled." His mother leaned down and kissed Joe’s cheek. "I’ll see you tomorrow, dear. Try to get some rest." The tightness around her mouth told Joe she was upset, too, but trying to conceal her feelings. She’d been the wife of a cop and knew the drill.

  Grasping her hand, he whispered, "Thanks, Mom. I am okay, you know."

  "I can see that."

  When the w
omen left, Joe closed his eyes, leaned back onto his pillows and sighed heavily.

  "How do you really feel?" Spence asked.

  At least he could be honest with his brothers. "My shoulder hurts like a son of a bitch and I’ve got the mother of all headaches."

  "Take the painkillers."

  "When I get home."

  "I’m staying the night with you," Spence added. "I already called Annie."

  Annie Hopkins was Spence’s soon-to-be wife, the woman who’d stolen his heart practically from the first time they met. They’d had a rocky time meshing their lives but worked out the differences and now were classic lovebirds.

  And Joe was jealous as hell of what they had together. Though he appreciated that his brothers were there to look after him, Joe wanted a woman he cared about in his life, too. He hated being single. And now he’d have free time to ponder his failures in that department. Damn the screwed-up kid and the careless teacher.

  "Joey?" Cole asked. "You zoned out."

  "Sorry. Hey, thanks for doing all this."

  "Wish I could stay over, too, bro." A single dad, Cole had a nine-month-old at home he had to get back to.

  "I got it covered." Spence tried for a smile.

  Both of his brothers were solemn. Worried. Joe had already put them through enough when he’d dropped out of college and his whole future had turned around on one aggressive tackle. He’d totally shut down with them, gone into himself and acted like a shit. He’d done the same thing when he was little and his dad had died, and as an adult when he got divorced. Then his partner before Shelly was killed and he’d been forced to go to counseling; the department shrink told him his unconscious mind was protecting him from hurt when he refused to open up about his pain. Spence and then Cole had a hell of a time getting through to him. "This isn’t that serious, you know."

  Cole’s fist bumped on his knee. "I hate the danger you’re in as a cop."

  "Somebody’s got to protect the world, guys. Who knew it would be a teenager with a grudge that took me down. Everybody thought he liked the teacher and she might help get the situation resolved. I knew not to assume anything. I even told the woman to stay back from the goddamned window."

  "He shot out at her because of a book." Cole’s tone was incredulous.

  "Seems he identified with his namesake in the story they were reading. The teacher made some negative comments about the character, and the kid took offense."

  Cole said, "There’s something wrong with him to confuse reality and fiction like that."

  A nurse Joe recognized from upstairs walked by the open door but didn’t see him in the ER cubicle.

  "I just thought of something. Could one of you go up to the pediatric floor and tell them I’ve been hurt. With the hospital grapevine, it’ll get around that I was shot, and I don’t want the nurses to worry. Or the little patients, if they overhear I was down here."

  "I’ll do it when you guys leave." Cole smiled. "It’s a nice thing you do for those kids, Joe."

  On the first day of school in September, the police department threw an indoor picnic at one of the local hospitals for the kids who wouldn’t be returning to school with their friends. That time of year was always hard on those left behind. And the party was a real pick-me-up for the cops. Joe personally felt like he hung the moon when he did his part.

  "Yeah, call me Mr. Nice Guy."

  Joe’s phone buzzed.

  "You’re supposed to have that off," Spence commented.

  "They love cops here. Nobody’ll complain."

  Retrieving his cell from the stand, he looked down at the caller ID. The number was unfamiliar, but he thumbed the talk button anyway. "Moretti."

  "Joey?"

  He didn’t recognize the voice. "Who is this?" Could a reporter have gotten his number? He knew Shelly wouldn’t give it out to the press.

  A pause. "It’s Dana. From online."

  His heartbeat picked up. "Holy cow! I didn’t expect to hear from you."

  That was an understatement. He’d been disappointed as hell that the woman he’d come to like the most from Cole’s online-dating website had been so off-putting. Initially, she’d drawn him in with her insightfulness, sense of humor and sensitivity. Joe had damn near begged her to see him, but she wouldn’t. Not yet, she’d said. He was about ready to give up on her, and now she’d called! Doing a mental victory dance in his head, he kept his cool in front of his brothers. They razzed him about his dating habits. "How’d you get my number?"

  "I contacted the precinct and when I said I was a good friend, they put me through to your partner, Shelly. She didn’t hesitate once I told her how I knew you."

  "A good friend, huh?" He glanced up at the guys. "Hold on a second." He covered the mouthpiece. "Can I have some privacy here?"

  Both of them sat back in their chairs. At least their anxious expressions were replaced by mirth. "Not on your life," Spence told him.

  Cole shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Joey had no choice but to hold this conversation in front of them. "Sorry, my brothers are in the room and won’t leave."

  She laughed. It was a sultry sound, which flowed through Joe like fine pale ale. "Typical of them, from what you told me online. How are you? Your partner said your injury isn’t critical."

  "It isn’t. My shoulder took the bullet, but it went right through, so I didn’t need surgery. I passed out because I hit my head, hard. I’m being discharged ASAP."

  A sigh of relief. "I was worried."

  "Yeah? This change your mind about meeting me?"

  A hesitation. "Maybe."

  "Glory Hallelujah! Come over to my place tonight. Nurse me back to health. We could get to know each other real well."

  No laughter this time, only silence from her end. Finally, she said, "I wish I could. But that’s impossible."

  Though he’d been half-joking about the visit, her answer struck him as odd. "Why?"

  "Long story. Which I don’t want to discuss over the phone."

  "But you’ll go out with me?"

  "I will. When you recover, I’ll meet you in a public place."

  "Hey, that’s not necessary. I’d never hurt you."

  "It’s necessary for me. I have my reasons."

  His gut told him not to push, and as a cop, he liked her sense of self-protection. The police were aware that predators stalked these sites. "We have to email until then."

  "Can you type?"

  "I will if it kills me."

  A chuckle this time, which was cute, too. "I’ll hang up now. Let you rest. I’m…glad you’re all right, Joey."

  "Thanks for calling, Dana. It means a lot to me."

  Joe disconnected, and suddenly his shoulder didn’t hurt so much anymore. Instead, talking to her had filled him with an edgy kind of need. Hell, he had a near concussion and a hole in his shoulder and was thinking of her like that. She was one special woman.

  "So?" Spence asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Since his brothers knew Dana had given him the runaround, and they’d overheard his half of the conversation, he told them about this newest development.

  Cole snorted. "You only had to get shot to land a date with her."

  "Screw you," he said, pleased that the guys were joking about his injury now. He glanced at his phone. And even more pleased his little dancer had changed her mind! Getting shot was worth it if he got a real chance with Dana.

  Chapter 2

  * * *

  ELLISON WICKHAM MORETTI MATHESON,, Joe’s mother, set a mug of coffee on the night table for Joe and sat on a chair opposite the bed. She took his hand like she used to when he was little and she had bad news. "You, my darling boy, are a terrible patient."

  At her words, Joe was transported back thirty-some years. He’d been standing in the hall outside his father’s bedroom where his parents couldn’t see him, but he had a clear view of his mother sitting on the edge of the mattress. She was talking to his dad, then, not him, and saying prett
y much the opposite to Joe Sr.

  You don’t have to be so brave, Joe. You have a right to complain, get angry, even throw things.

  His father still had control of his arm muscles then. His hands had fisted in the sheet. I can’t. Because of the boys. Joey, especially, is taking this hard.

  "Honey, where’d you go?" his mother asked.

  Joe shook off the memory. These sudden, vivid images of his dad always chilled him, though they came infrequently now. When Joe Sr. was thirty-five, he’d begun to show symptoms of Lou Gehrig’s disease. From then on, his dad’s life—and his family’s—had become a nightmare. "I was thinking about Dad."

  "I know how hard his illness was on you. How it still haunts you. You should talk about him more and get out some of those resentments."

  "He was so brave, Mom." His dad had gone through humiliating weeks, months, years, once the ALS had sunk its deadly teeth into him. "How’d he do it? Tolerate this kind of inactivity, losing his bodily functions?"

  "He was stunned at first. The disease came on so suddenly." Ellison stared out Joe’s bedroom window, her face poignantly sad. "He was such a robust man. So physical."

  Joe had clear memories of wrestling on the living room floor with his father, riding on his shoulders, playing touch football and Joe Sr.’s incredible speed. At the time, Joe thought his dad could leap buildings at a single bound.

  "I don’t remember how it started. I was so little, those details are fuzzy."

  "Limb onset." She shivered involuntarily. "The muscle weakness was first noticeable in his legs when he fell chasing a drug addict down an alley. And he was mortified when the twitching began."