Callahan's Fate

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  A single crimson leaf fluttered to the ground from the tree nearby, enough to remind Callahan it would be Halloween in a few days. On the heels of trick-or-treat came All Saints Day, a day to remember the dead in his Catholic faith, so the season seemed perfect for his pilgrimage to the cemetery. It was a time for remembrance and reflection. He shut his eyes and recalled that fatal day.

  It’d been spring, not fall, a hot May afternoon when he surprised Anthony with a pair of tickets to the Yankees game. His brother had planned to take his wife and kids on a picnic somewhere, but Callahan persuaded him to change his plans. They headed to the stadium, both in high spirits, and their team won. Maybe they’d drank a little too much beer, but damn it to hell, they had a blast.

  If they had gone home after the game or went their separate ways, things might have been different. But he suggested they run by his place, not where he lived now in Midtown, but a crappier apartment on the Lower East Side. He wanted to grab some money so they could go out for burgers or steaks or something. Callahan hadn’t wanted the time together to end so soon, so he’d been a selfish bastard.

  They ate steaks, drank another beer or two, listened to some killer music. Anthony enjoyed it, but around eleven o’clock, he got antsy. He drummed his fingers on the table and made noise about needing to go home. Callahan agreed and they left. At the Grand Street Station, blocks from Cal’s dinky apartment, they started down the stairs to the platform when a guy jumped them. He acted crazy, hopped up on drugs with wild eyes and shaky hands. The .357 magnum pistol in his hands wobbled as he demanded money in a high-pitched voice. Sores around the perpetrator’s mouth indicated his heavy habit, probably on meth.

  Anthony reached for his wallet, but Callahan put out his hand. “Don’t give this piece of trash any money,” he’d said. He had to be the big law enforcement officer, had to show off to impress his big brother one more time. Off-duty, he hadn’t had a weapon, but he had his badge and he pulled it.

  “Police,” he shouted. “Put down the gun, and get your hands above your head.”

  He had thought he would be the hero and had wanted to see admiration in his brother’s eyes. But everything went wrong with such speed it became a blur. The gunman didn’t put down the pistol. Instead, he pointed it at Anthony’s head. Then he plucked the wallet from Anthony’s hand and pulled out the wad of cash.

  Callahan made his big mistake then. He went for the gun, thinking he could snatch it while the robber was distracted. An accomplice stepped from the shadows and whacked him over the head. It wasn’t hard enough to knock him out, but the blow took him down. As he scrambled to his feet, he heard Anthony yell, then the blast from the .357 roared in his ears.

  Although he’d leapt to his feet in seconds, there wasn’t anything he could have done. Anthony tottered, rocking on his feet with a huge hole in his belly. Blood poured from it, and Callahan watched with horror as his brother toppled like a felled tree. He knelt down beside Anthony, tried to staunch the bleeding, but he couldn’t and his brother knew it. Cal read the terrible realization in Anthony’s eyes and clutched his brother’s hand for the last seconds of his life. Anthony whispered something, words he couldn’t quite catch, then went still and died.

  Grief caught him hard, but he had also been enraged. Callahan had jumped up, grabbed the gun, and dispatched the man who had shot his brother with a single shot to the head. He whirled around to nail the other perp if he could, but he hesitated. Shit, the other one was a kid, probably still in high school. He lifted his arms in slow motion and said, “Don’t shoot me like you did Dante, man, please.”

  He hadn’t. By then, officers from the closest precinct had arrived and took control. Callahan sat with his brother’s body, weeping silent tears, already eaten up with remorse, regret, and guilt for what happened. If he hadn’t had the tickets or invited his brother, Anthony would be alive.

  But now, he remembered those few whispered words and made sense of them.

  “Don’t blame yourself, kid,” he had told him. “Ain’t your fault. Shit happens.”

  Callahan came back to the present with a jerk. His cheeks were wet with tears he hadn’t realized he’d shed. The terrible pain of his loss smote him hard. He would never get over Anthony’s death or Aidan’s that had followed, but he let go of the guilt. Anthony had absolved him with more power than any priest at confession. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slow.

  He scrubbed the tears from his face with one hand. His soul seemed lighter, his burdens less, but something else nagged at his brain. What the fuck was it? Something that matters now. Callahan pondered it and nailed it. Dante. The man who had shot Anthony had been named Dante, and in the earlier conversation he’d heard between the Marsh brothers, Snake had blamed Callahan for Dante’s death. He hadn’t got the reference then, but he did now.

  This wasn’t just about sending Snake to jail. It was Old Testament-style payback, retribution for Dante’s death. It upped the stakes and increased the danger, but now, freed of guilt, reminded of his brother’s last benediction, he thought he could handle it. He had everything to live for now, he possessed a future.

  With another sigh, he stood up. “Peace be with you, brother,” he said. “And to you, too, Aidan. I used to think I failed you, too, but I didn’t.”

  ****

  Stronger, freer, and determined, Callahan left the cemetery. His concern for Raine remained but he had gained confidence that he could handle it. He wouldn’t make the same mistake, he vowed, grandstanding or trying to impress anyone. Some of his burdens, he shed there in the quiet Brooklyn graveyard, and the rest of the day stretched out with possibilities. He had plenty of time to find a gift for his lady, and he had a date.

  Hope made his step lighter as he headed back to Manhattan. The future, he thought, begins now. And he promised himself that they would get there, no matter what it took.

  Chapter Ten

  Traveling between one place and another always proved challenging for Raine, but on the perfect late October day, it became almost impossible. She didn’t want to face another classroom, or visit another at-risk student, or talk about A Tree Grows In Brooklyn. Raine wanted to abandon responsibility and duty to be with Callahan but she couldn’t. The deep blue sky above the skyscrapers had never seemed more beautiful, and the autumn chill in the breeze tempted her to run away for the day. She didn’t, though, but struggled through the day, her mind on Callahan, not literature.

  By her last stop, a drug rehab facility in lower Manhattan a few blocks from Church Street, Raine’s steps were dragging. She watched the clock worse than any student, willing it to move faster, and her sense of confinement increased until she could relate to the caged canary birds her grandmother once kept. She remembered the bright little songbirds and how their music often filled the kitchen. But she also could recall how sometimes they beat their wings as if they wanted to escape. More than once as a child, she’d pulled over a chair and attempted to free them without any success. Now, she wished she could fly as much as they must have longed to go.

  If she could have, Raine would have taken her handful of students outside, down to Battery Park if possible or into the tiny courtyard, but their rehab status prevented it. So she muddled through the lessons, and for once, she thought she was as glad as they were when the session ended. She gathered her books and papers into her bag and paused to check her appearance in the restroom mirror.

  The second she hit the street, she searched for Callahan and found him within moments. He stood on the closest corner, out of the way of passing pedestrians, hands behind his back. In his jeans, simple shirt, and denim jacket, she found him incredibly attractive. And he’s mine, she thought. A rush of happiness welled up as she ran to meet him, smiling. As she reached him, he handed her a single red rose. “Hi, baby,” he said.

  “Hi, thank you.” Raine smelled the flower. “It’s lovely.”

  “I’m glad you like it. Did you have a good day with the kids?”

  She
laughed. “It was all right but it seemed so long. How was your shift?”

  Callahan hesitated before he spoke, and she wondered why. “I had a good day,” he said after the pause. “It was a really good day in a lot of ways. I managed to settle some things within myself about Anthony and all that.”

  Raine studied his face. His calm expression and the lack of shadows in his eyes confirmed what he said. “I’m glad. Did you go home already and come back? You must’ve flown.”

  He put an arm around her. “Let’s walk, all right? We’re taking up space.”

  “Okay, sure.”

  Her confusion must be evident because he said, “I didn’t work today, doll.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “Naw, not today.”

  “But when you left, I thought you were heading to your precinct.” Raine cocked her head to look at him, puzzled. “What happened?”

  Callahan shrugged. “I didn’t feel so good, so Joe suggested I take the day off, and I did. I came down to the ferry so I could get my head on straight, then I went over to Brooklyn and visited my brothers’ graves.”

  Worry gnawed into her contentment. “Are you sick? If you don’t feel well, we can go back to your place so you can take it easy.”

  “I’m fine now, baby, I swear it.”

  She scrutinized him. He appeared to be in good health, so she relaxed a little. “You were all right when you left me, weren’t you?”

  “Yeah, don’t sweat it. It’s no big deal.”

  “It is to me. Did you get a migraine or something?”

  He removed his arm from her shoulders and took her hand. “Come on, let’s walk down to the ferry terminal and catch a ride.”

  “Callahan?”

  “You ain’t going to let it go, are you?”

  “No, I’m not. I love you…”

  His grin flashed bright. “I like hearing that.”

  Raine refused to let him distract her. “And I’d like to hear why you didn’t feel well.”

  “Aw, my stomach kicked up a little,” he said. “It hurt for a while but it’s good now. I’m hungry. You wanna go eat?”

  “Well, yes, I did…or do. Are you sure you feel okay now?”

  With his free hand, he made an X over the center of his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die, if I don’t.”

  “So what happened?”

  Cal sighed. “This isn’t the best place to talk about it, but you won’t let up, so here goes. After I left your place, I was on my way to the subway until I saw Snake and Bull. I got worried they might be stalking you so I hung around, caught up with them, and listened to their bullshit. I got so tense, my stomach tied into a knot.”

  Her mood dimmed. “Oh, man. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

  “I didn’t want to upset you or make you scared.”

  She snorted. “Well, I’m both. So are they?”

  “What?”

  “Are they stalking me?”

  He tightened his grip on her hand. “Well, yeah, kinda, but mostly it’s me they want, honey. Like I told you, I made the arrest that got Snake sent to Riker’s Island, but he wants payback for a street thug I killed named Dante. He’s the guy who shot my brother.”

  Raine’s head whirled. “I feel like I’ve been knocked off my feet and whacked in the head,” she told him. “None of this is making much sense to me. What are you telling me? Some criminal named Dante shot your brother and you shot him? Which brother? Anthony?”

  “Yeah, Anthony,” he said. “Look, it’s my fault. I’m telling it too fast. There’s a café down the block. Let’s go sit down, order something, and I’ll explain.”

  “All right, please.” She needed to hear it, but this wasn’t the romantic date she’d dreamed about all day. The sooner he got it over with, the better.

  Inside the traditional café, they found a table near the back. Callahan ordered coffee for them both and opened his menu. “What do you think you want, doll?”

  At the moment, she didn’t care. “Explanations,” she told him.

  “I’m having a hot roast beef sandwich,” he said. “It comes with plenty of potatoes and gravy. You want one?”

  She glanced up and melted at his broad grin. I want him. Aloud, she told him, “Sure, it sounds good.”

  A waitress delivered their coffee, and she stirred sugar into her cup, noting Callahan drank his black. Raine cradled the mug between her hands and sighed. “Okay, tell me from the start.”

  “Well, I met this beautiful gal at the Fulton Street Station one day…”

  Raine smacked his hand in a playful gesture. “Be serious, okay? Although you are in a good mood, and I like it.”

  “Awright, awright, so here it comes,” he said. “I left your place, saw the Marsh brothers, and I trailed them. I overhead enough to know Snake’s out for me, mostly because I got him sent to jail, but also on account of this Dante. And they’re after you because you’re with me. Snake means business, too. He’s a mean bastard. After the night we had, baby, and being in love, it upset the hell of out of me. I got worried, and my belly started griping me. I was already late to work by then, and Joe noticed I looked like shit. I played it up a little and took off so I could clear my head. The main thing that matters is keeping you safe, Raine, and I will.”

  She had never doubted it. “I know.”

  “Thing is, I heard them say Snake took out a guy named Juan, an open murder case we’ve been working. Snake Marsh is our top suspect, but there’s no evidence. And, I gotta tell you the truth—when I get uptight, it brings back Anthony’s death and all that shit. It’s just been a year and a half, you know? Still pretty damn fresh, and it still hurts.”

  “Of course it does,” she said. “But you’re talking about it so that’s progress, right?”

  “Damn straight,” Callahan replied. “I told you I’d tell you what happened and I will, in just a minute. So I left the precinct, went home, then knew where I could clear my head. I rode the ferry and realized I had to deal with all my baggage. So I headed over to Green Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn and went over what happened to Anthony. God, it hurt, but I realized something. It wasn’t my fault, Raine, and he died telling me so. My brother didn’t blame me.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t. From everything you’ve told me, he loved you.”

  “Yeah, no doubt about that,” he said. “You wanna hear what happened?”

  “Yes, I do, very much.”

  Callahan sketched the story, and she could imagine it all with such clarity it could have been a movie she watched. Raine listened as he told about the Saturday afternoon, the Yankees game, the steaks, and the camaraderie with his brother. She sipped coffee as he spoke and before he finished, their order arrived at the table. They paused for a simple blessing, then ate as Cal continued. When he reached the last of it, the holdup, and how Anthony died, she wept a few silent tears of compassion.

  “So, that’s how it went down,” he concluded. “The other thing I figured out after all this time is that the guy who robbed my brother, the one I shot, was Dante. Must’ve been one of Snake’s buddies because he’s out for revenge. I’m the target.”

  The way he said it straight out, Raine knew Callahan lacked fear. He sounded tough, like he believed he could be invincible. “That terrifies me,” she told him. “I’m more worried about you than I am about myself. Can’t you arrest him or something?”

  He laughed without mirth. “I can’t without a reason,” he told her. “I’m a lot of things, but a dirty cop’s not one of them.”

  “I never thought you were, honey. As awful as all of this is, I’m glad you found some closure. Are you dealing with your other brother’s death, too? What happened to him? That night on the phone, you told me you were responsible for both of your brothers passing away.”

  His dark eyes met hers, and some of the lines deepened in his face. “A few months after Anthony, hell, just a little over a year ago now, Aidan overdosed on tranquilizers. He took Anthony’s death really h
ard, same as me, but he’d battled addiction issues for years. Plus, he’d been drinking. No one really knows if he meant to kill himself or if it was an accident. You’re right, I took the blame for that, too, thought I should’ve been there for him more. I thought if I’d been paying attention, I would’ve known and could’ve prevented his death.”

  “And now?”

  Callahan shrugged. “Now I think I did what I could when he was alive. I tried to get him into rehab, to get help. So I’m not beating myself up over it so much. When I realized what happened to Anthony was tragic, but not my fault, when I remembered what he said with his last breath, I let go. I’m always gonna mourn them and miss my brothers, but I can move on now. I kinda think they’d want me to, doll.”

  “So what happens now? What do we do?”

  With deft motions, he forked the last of the roast beef and ate it. “Hell if I know,” he said. “But we’ll manage, together. I’ll figure it out. I always do. Try not to worry, all right? It’ll work out and we’ll be good.”

  Raine wanted to believe it and she tried. “I hope so. Are we going to ride the ferry now or what?”

  The planned outing no longer seemed as romantic or fun. She wanted to hunker down behind locked doors and hide. As if he knew her thoughts, Callahan shook his head. “No, not unless it’s what you want. If it is, then we will.”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t think I want to go, not now.”

  “Okay. So here’s my first idea. We go to your place, you pack a bag, take some clothes and whatever you need, and you come stay all night with me. That way, I know you’ll be safe and don’t have to eat my guts out worrying. I think they know where you live, but I doubt they have any idea where my apartment is. What do you think?”

  Relief tasted sweeter than the last of her hot sandwich. “It sounds like a plan. I don’t think I want to be alone right now.”

  “Good,” he said. “’Cause I thought maybe you should move in with me anyway.”

  Surprised, she considered it and realized she’d like it. “Callahan, I’d love it. Are you sure you don’t mind?”