Cause to Fear

by Pierce, Blake

  “Is he trying to wait us out?” Ramirez said. “That doesn’t seem very bright. It’s got to be pretty cold in there, right?”

  This is stupid, Avery thought. She knocked on the door two more times. “Mr. George, don’t make this harder than it has to be. Come out here, please. We just need you to ask a few more questions.”

  There was absolute silence from inside. She shared a baffled look with Ramirez, not quite sure what to do. She supposed if George was truly trying to play a waiting game, she could call the A1 and have someone with special tools come out to take the door off. That, or she could—

  The noise from behind her was so faint that she barely heard it. She turned around at the same moment Ramirez shoved her hard to the left and shouted: “Down!”

  As she fell to her knees, she heard a gunshot. It was so unexpected that it was deafening. Following the sound of it, several things happened in the space of three seconds, making Avery feel dizzy.

  First, Ramirez stumbled backward and fell to his knees. At that same moment, something warm and wet splashed against Avery’s jacket and right hand. As she felt this, she saw Rustin George standing at the opened front door of his studio. He held a gun and there was a look of rage and fear on his face. She wondered how he could have possibly gotten behind them—and then she realized: there must have been a trap door somewhere in that freezer.

  With the sound of George’s gunshot ringing in her ears, she brought her own gun up and fired off two shots. She fired, pivoted, and fired again, taking George in both shoulders.

  George stumbled back against the metal door, his gun dropping to the ground. At the same moment the gun clattered to the floor, Ramirez fell to his backside and then onto his back. Avery saw the blood at once, along his neck and soaking his shirt.

  Her heart broke as she dashed away from him and toward George. She kicked George’s gun away, quickly checked to make sure that neither of her shots had been fatal, and then went back to Ramirez. He was blinking his eyes as they wandered around aimlessly. He coughed and it sounded far too wet.

  “Ramirez…” she said, trying her best not to lose control.

  She placed her own gun on the floor and fumbled for her phone. With trembling hands, she put in the call.

  “Officer and suspect down. Officer potentially in critical condition.”

  She looked back and forth from Rustin George to Ramirez. The place felt thick with approaching death and she could only hope it wasn’t coming for the man that she was cradling in her arms as she sat on the floor in a growing pool of blood.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  Avery had remained with Ramirez for every second that passed between the moment she cradled him against her on the floor of Rustin George’s studio to the moment he was wheeled through the double doors in the hospital, headed for surgery. She’d had no concept of time during the trip from the studio to the apartment. The very events that had occurred in the studio seemed hazy, as if she had been watching them from a faraway television screen.

  However, hearing those double doors close and bend slightly in toward her snapped her out of it. She drew in a heavy shuddering breath and leaned back against the wall. A nurse rushed over to her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

  “Are you okay?” the nurse asked.

  Avery couldn’t even get out a single word. She could only nod.

  “Maybe you should visit the restroom,” the nurse suggested. “You have blood on your clothes, your neck, and your hand.”

  Avery had known this—she had been very aware of it in the back of the ambulance as they had rushed Ramirez to the hospital—but it had somehow not occurred to her to wash it off. Again, she nodded weakly and stumbled off of the wall.

  “Let me help you,” the nurse said. “I’ll grab some wash cloths.”

  Avery did not argue. In a dreamlike state, she let the nurse lead her into the restroom. With the nurse’s help, Avery got the blood off of her neck, chin, and right hand. She watched it swirl in a pale red mess down the sink as the nurse rinsed the cloth out as she thought about what the other officers on the scene had told her. George had escaped into the freezer and taken a flight of stairs at the back of the freezer down to the first floor. He’d then circled back up to them and opened fire.

  “Would you like me to take you to the waiting room?” the nurse asked.

  The water on her face had brought her even further around. Avery was now getting a better grasp of things, the slight shock wearing off. “No, I think I’m good. Thank you for your help, though.”

  The nurse exited the restroom with her and they went their separate ways. “I’ll have a nurse or doctor make sure to come out and notify you the moment there’s any news,” the nurse said as she left.

  Avery gave another of her weak perfunctory nods and headed up the hallway to the waiting room. She could smell coffee brewing somewhere and knew that she’d need some if she planned to make it through the rest of the day. She glanced at her watch and was depressed to find that somehow it was not even noon yet.

  At the waiting room, she saw Finley and O’Malley sitting in two chairs along the far wall. Finley got up right away and came over to her before she had a chance to take a seat. And God bless him, he had a cup of coffee in his hand, offering it out to her. She took it gratefully and wasted no time sipping it. It was bland and flavorless—telltale hospital brew—but she was happy to have it.

  “How is he?” Finley asked as he returned to his seat.

  Avery took the seat next to him and took another sip from the coffee. Finley and O’Malley waited anxiously for her to speak. She was surprised to find that it was hard to form the words to actually say it all out loud.

  “They don’t know yet,” she said. “But the shot…it looked like it took him in the heart. It might have gone a little high but there was too much blood to tell for sure. The medics in the back of the ambulance didn’t look optimistic.”

  Am I really saying these things right now? she wondered. Is this really happening?

  It hurt to realize that it was…and this was not at all how she had expected such a trauma to go. She was worried and agonizing silently, yet not totally broken.

  What does that say about me?

  “Shit,” O’Malley said. He voice was thin and for a moment, Avery could see the honest and caring man he was when not at work.

  “Look,” O’Malley went on, “the last thing I want you thinking about is work right now, but I figure I should at least key you in to what we found out about this Rustin George creep. He was arrested for aggravated sexual assault of an eighteen-year-old when he was twenty-three. A year and a half later he was arrested for domestic abuse and aggravated sexual assault on his wife. It was believed but never proven that he also beat the shit out of his wife’s daughter—from another marriage, mind you. But the wife never came clean with the story even though doctors said the fractures to the eight-year-old girl’s shoulder and wrist were clearly from having been beaten.”

  Vaguely, Avery could remember some of the nonsense George had been spewing before he escaped into the freezer. “When I beat that woman…I didn’t mean to do the other thing…the thing that…God…her little girl…”

  “What was in the walk-in freezer?” Avery asked.

  “Two ice sculptures in progress,” O’Malley said. “But there was a downstairs to the thing. We found three pictures there…pictures of nude women. But from what we could tell from the pictures and the sculptures, he was just trying to recreate the pictures in the sculptures.”

  “We did look through his contacts on his phone,” Finley said. “We found it odd that he had Carolyn Rodgers as a contact. We’ve got officers speaking with someone right now to see what the link is. Right now it looks like George did some sculptures for an event last year for the Historical Society and that’s about it.”

  “Thanks,” she said. She relaxed back in the chair and tried to ignore the fact that she was trembling.

  “Listen,” O
’Malley said. “One of us can stay here with you if you want. But at least one of us needs to get back out there to grill the shit out of this guy. And if he turns out to not be the guy…”

  He didn’t finish the statement and that was fine with Avery. It was heavy on her mind, but for right now all she could think about was Ramirez. She was shocked to realize that in that moment, she honestly didn’t give a damn about the case.

  “I’m fine here by myself,” she said. “You should both go. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “You sure?” Finley asked.

  “Positive. Thanks for being here at all, though.”

  They both got to their feet and she could tell that Finley didn’t feel right leaving her. With one last awkward look, he started to walk away. “Give me a call if you need anything,” he said.

  She watched them go and when they disappeared around the corner, she tilted her head back against the wall and allowed herself to cry. She kept replaying the scene over and over in her head, wondering what she could have done differently. Had she been too passive in asking George to stop moving? Should she have drawn her gun a little sooner, before he’d even had a chance to distract them with the cloth?

  These and other questions swarmed in her head like hornets. She kept her eyes closed, telling herself that she was only resting her eyes. But if she happened to fall asleep for a quick power nap, that would be fine, too.

  She opened her eyes when she heard footsteps coming toward her. A doctor was coming her way. Avery quickly glanced down at her watch and saw that maybe she had dozed off for a few moments, as it was now 12:20.

  “Detective Black…I’m Doctor Chambers, one of the surgeons that will be working on your partner. An initial check doesn’t offer us much hope, I’m afraid. The fact that he’s still alive is, quite frankly, a little baffling. The bullet did go all the way through, which is good. And it barely missed his heart, which is even better. But on its way out, I’m afraid it did some significant damage. Detective Ramirez has lost a lot of blood and his heart is pumping overtime due to the trauma, which makes it that much worse. He coded for about ten seconds but we got him back. We’re working very hard to save him but please understand that we aren’t out of the woods yet. And I’m afraid we won’t know anything for certain for another hour or so and that’s if he can make it through the surgery to repair the damage.”

  Avery nodded, taking the information in and processing it with her logical detective’s brain. Not out of the woods yet. Coded for ten seconds. Doesn’t offer us much hope.

  Words like those did not make her feel very confident about Ramirez’s chances. Still, she said nothing, remaining quiet as the doctor looked down at her sympathetically.

  “I need to get back to it,” Dr. Chambers said. “But please, let any of the nurses or workers at the guests’ station know if you need anything. I’ll do my very best to keep you updated as often as I can. Do you have any questions?”

  She thought about several, but had none that she could adequately put words to. None that she was brave enough to ask, anyway. Dr. Chambers took his leave, hurrying out of the waiting room. No sooner had he left than a nurse entered the room. She had her hands tucked into the large pockets of her nurse’s scrubs and something about it made her look like a nervous kid.

  “Detective Black, I was one of the nurses that helped prep Detective Ramirez. As you know, his jacket and shirt were removed in the back of the ambulance. We just retrieved those items and…well, we found something else. I don’t know what to do with it, exactly, but since you’re the only one here with him, I thought I should give it to you.”

  “Of course,” Avery said. “What is it?”

  The nurse took her hands out of her pocket and extended her right hand to Avery. She saw the item clearly, but it made no sense to her; her brain was simply not able to make the connection.

  Avery reached out and took it. “Thank you,” she said.

  The nurse gave a nod and left the waiting room, leaving Avery to look at the item that had been retrieved from Ramirez’s coat.

  It was a small black box. The exterior was soft to the touch, almost like velvet. When she opened it, the top opened on a hinge from the back of the box.

  She stared at the engagement ring inside for quite some time, not even aware that she had started crying again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Avery was replying to texts from Finley while Ramirez was in surgery. It helped to distance her from the turmoil she was going through. Finley gave her constant updates concerning Rustin George while she also fielded texts from Rose, who was insisting that she come to the hospital to keep Avery company.

  She was in mid-text with Rose when Dr. Chambers approached. She tried reading his face but it was quite difficult. She supposed being a doctor was another profession where you had to watch your expression at all times.

  “The surgery went as well as it could,” he said. “He’s being taken to ICU. Give us five minutes to get him situated and you can see him.”

  “Thank you.” She pocketed the phone and did her very best to bite back the tears that badly wanted to be spilled.

  She waited until she was given the go-ahead and rushed directly to his room. In that moment, Finley and Rustin George may as well have been on another planet. Even thoughts of Rose went dim for a moment when she saw Ramirez. Seeing the state of him after surgery for the first time was the equivalent of a punch to the stomach. The man she had constantly seen as a source of strength and charisma pretty much since the first time she had met him was now lying in a hospital bed with several machines attached to him. He was unconscious and looked impossibly frail. As she took this in, the Dr. Chambers stood behind her, filling her in with his somber voice.

  “The surgery was textbook and went well,” Chambers said, stepping into the room behind her. “Our concern now is that he lost a lot of blood, but we managed to get him leveled back out. His chances of survival look better than they did two hours ago, but there’s still no guarantees. The next few hours could be touch and go.”

  “Thanks,” Avery said, her voice shallow. She walked to the chair by the bedside and sat down slowly. She wanted very badly to take her eyes away from Ramirez’s current condition but could not. Her fingers reached into her jacket pocket and felt the shape of the ring box. Her heart ached at the feel of it.

  How long has he had this? she wondered. Was he planning to ask me today? Or has he been carrying it on him, waiting until the time was right? Is this why he shared that personal story about his first engagement?

  She reached out and took his hand.

  “Let me know if you have any questions,” Dr. Chambers said. “I’ll be back now and then to check on him.”

  He left the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Avery alone with the mechanical hum of the machines that were currently keeping Ramirez alive.

  ***

  Sometime later, she was nudged awake. Before even looking to the face of the person who had come into the room and stirred her awake (but when the hell did I fall asleep? she wondered), she checked her watch and saw that it was 3:12. She then looked up and saw Rose standing there. She looked timid and uncertain, obviously uncomfortable.

  “Rose, what are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Trying to be a good daughter.” She looked over at Ramirez and frowned. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “The doctors aren’t making any guarantees just yet. But I think the fact he’s made it this long is a good sign.”

  “God, Mom…were you with him when it happened?”

  Avery nodded. “Right behind him.”

  “So…it could have been you? A few feet was all that separated you from being shot?”

  Probably just a single foot, Avery thought but did not dare say it. “Rose, you didn’t have to come here.”

  “I wanted to,” she said. “I dig him, too…you know?”

  “Thanks for coming, sweetie. I really do appreciate it.”

 
; “Did they get the guy that did it?”

  Avery sat up and slowly started to tell Rose everything she knew about what had happened to Rustin George after she had shot him twice. She then backed up and told Rose about her morning. Speaking it all out loud actually seemed to ground her. It made it seem more real and it also made Ramirez seem almost heroic. When George had started to get sketchy, Ramirez had stepped forward…not just as her partner, but as her protector.

  When she was done ten minutes later, Rose started to absently play with her mother’s hair—kneading it and running it through her fingers in a comforting sort of gesture. Avery’s heart warmed; it was probably the most emotional moment the two had shared since Rose had been eight or nine years old.

  “Can I do anything for you?” Rose asked.

  “No, you don’t have to—”

  “Shut it, Mom. What do you need?”

  Avery chuckled. Her daughter sounded just like her. God, it was getting creepy. “I could use a bite to eat. And maybe a soda.”

  “I’m on it. Text me if you think of anything else.”

  Rose left the room, leaving Avery with the humming of the machines again. She estimated that she had dozed off for roughly an hour this time—long enough for her mouth to taste stale and her neck to go stiff. She saw two missed texts from Finley, keeping her up to date on matters with Rustin George. The first read: He’s been crying for the last twenty minutes. Confessed to beating the ex-wife’s kid. Another came twenty minutes later. Connection to Carolyn Rodgers confirmed but not ill intent. Probably not our guy. Call me.

  She placed a call to Finley. Something about hearing the phone ring while also seeing Ramirez’s motionless body in the hospital bed, all wires and a hospital gown, was surreal. Finley answered on the second ring. There was the noise of a slight commotion on the other end of the line.

  “I just got your texts,” Avery said. “So it looks like George isn’t our guy?”