by Sally John
He groaned and hung his head.
“In the ambulance.” She had ridden with the unconscious Erik to the hospital. “I prayed for him.”
Bobby peered at her from the corner of his eye. “Out loud?”
“Yeah.”
“Medic hear you?”
She nodded.
“There goes your reputation.” He grinned and sat up. “But I still want you riding with me as soon as possible.”
For a long moment she studied his intense cornflower-blue eyes gazing back at her. He meant it. He really meant it.
She whispered, “Thank you.”
Twenty-Nine
Lexi gingerly pushed open the door to Erik’s hospital room. While she slept away most of the day in her apartment, her family had kept watch over him. They were gone for the time being.
Evening had fallen, and the illumination inside the room was dim. Lights flickered from the muted television mounted on the wall.
“Hi, Lexi.”
Lexi hadn’t noticed the woman seated in a chair on the other side of the bed. “Hi. Officer Delgado?”
She stood. “Please, call me Rosie.”
Lexi pushed the door shut and went to Erik’s bedside. Her mother had warned her, but the sight of him made her cringe. He was white as the sheets and almost hidden between all the tubes and monitors and wires and IV bags. Even if he were awake, she wondered if he’d be able to open his eyes in such a swollen face.
She touched his leg. “Oh, Erik.”
“Of course,” the policewoman mumbled, “you might have some other names you’d prefer to call me.”
Lexi glanced over at her. “Why?”
“Um, I should go.” She moved around to the foot of the bed. In blue jeans and a sweater, her wavy hair loose to her shoulders, she looked like any regular person.
“Thank you for helping me last night.”
“I don’t know how much I helped.” She tilted her head toward Erik.
“Erik freaked out. You got to him before things got worse, and you took care of me. The guys you sent parked my car and drove me here to the hospital.”
“Lexi, why did you call and ask for me? Why not just call 911? The dispatcher could have done the same.”
She shrugged. “I freaked out too. It wasn’t exactly an emergency. I mean, it wasn’t like an accident happening right in front of me or a fire. He really hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet. And you know him personally. It was easier to explain it to you. I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry. It’s . . . it’s okay. You’re right. It would have taken longer for you to explain it all to someone else. Then they probably would have gotten there after he—I’m sorry. I’m not supposed to talk about it. Forget I said that. Forget I said anything. Nuts. Forget I was here.”
“Why aren’t you supposed to talk about it?”
“Cockeyed rigamarole. rigamarole.” Rosie placed fingertips at her mouth. “I can’t even tell your family how sorry I am.” Her voice cracked.
“Why not? We know you are. Well, except maybe Jenna, but Miss Drama Queen doesn’t count.”
Rosie just stood there blinking rapidly, pressing her hand against her mouth, as if she was trying to get herself under control.
Suddenly Lexi did not want her to leave. Like the day she’d shown up at Erik’s place, she brought an air of order to the chaos. Order and something else. Kindness? Understanding? Acceptance? She was so easy to talk to.
“Lexi.” Rosie lowered her hand. “When an officer shoots someone, there’s an investigation. I’m suspended until it’s decided whether or not what I did was acceptable under the circumstances. Someone will ask you questions about what happened. If I talk to you or Erik and say something like I should have seen it was a toy gun in his hand and not shot him, and then you all sue me and the police department, and you say that I said . . .” She sighed. “It just gets real complicated. It’s best we don’t talk yet.”
“We wouldn’t sue you.”
“Sometimes it’s not your choice. Insurance companies have different ideas. The media will influence things. They’re going to have a heyday with this. They already are. Five o’clock lead.” She pointed her thumb at the television.
“But we know you wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t have to. For crying out loud, you know him. And Jenna did have one valid point: you made tea with our mom.”
Rosie smiled. “Yes, I did.” She paused, frowned, and then spoke again. “How is everyone?”
“Fine. Well, I mean they’re upset, naturally. But Erik’s okay. Brett’s okay. Felicia’s okay. ”
“Will you tell them I’m sorry, please? So very sorry that it happened.”
“Yes.” She glanced at her brother. The walls with their sick odors closed in on her. “Could we . . . could we go have coffee or something?”
“I—” Rosie clamped her jaws together. Her forehead wrinkled again. Her wide mouth turned in an upside-down U.
“I promise not to tell anyone,” Lexi said.
Slowly, Rosie smiled. “Do you know what perjury is?”
“It won’t come to that. I need—uh . . .” Need?
The word sounded foreign in Lexi’s ear. She never said need out loud. Probably because the only thing she ever thought about needing was food. But now, with Erik totally out of commission, Zak out of the picture, and Danny and Nana off the deep end ad nauseam over Tuyen, maybe she needed to not be alone.
She took a deep breath. “I need to hang out with somebody who understands last night.”
Rosie studied her for a moment. “Yeah, I do too.”
They sat in a booth tucked away in a corner of the busy hospital cafeteria. Rosie drank coffee. Lexi succumbed to the gnaw in her stomach and filled her tray with a selection from every food group offered.
“Lexi, do you know how he got to Felicia’s? His car wasn’t found in the vicinity.”
“No. He and this other guy ran out the door. Maybe he drove him?”
Rosie shrugged.
“How long will you be suspended?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a week. I’ll still work, but behind a desk.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not all that bad of an idea. I can’t exactly think straight after this. Forget I said that. Anyway, my dad owns a restaurant in Old Town.”
“Really? Which one?”
“Casa del Gusto.”
“I love it.”
“I do too. I like to cook and wait tables. And I like to keep an eye on my dad. He’s got a great manager and staff, but Papi refuses to give up control and he wears himself out doing things other people could do. Now he’s got a crush on a new employee, so he’s spending even more time there. It’s really kind of cute. This woman is almost his age and adores him.”
“Your mom’s not around?”
Rosie shook her head. “I was nineteen when she passed.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” Rosie leaned forward. “Lexi, you don’t have to feel obligated to apologize for everything.”
“Sorry.” She rolled her eyes. “Danny tells me it’s a bad habit. You said ‘passed.’ I’ve only heard my grandmother use the word that way.”
“It totally fits my mom. She was so in love with Jesus. After her second time going through chemo and then getting sick again, all she could talk about was going Home. Capital H. It was like she just went through the veil, passed from this world on to the other one.” Rosie sat back again and sipped her coffee. “In the kitchen at the hacienda I saw your grandmother’s wall of crosses. That’s an incredible collection.”
“Did Mom tell you about them, how they didn’t burn during the Rolando Bluff Fire?”
“She did. She also told me about how you saved the family and those firefighters.”
Lexi felt the flush creep up her neck. It hadn’t been that big of a deal.
“Then I remembered the story. I read about you and your family miraculously making it through that night. You were
a heroine.”
Lexi shrugged a shoulder and pushed aside the thought of Zak. He’d never, ever be absent from the memory of the fire. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”
“Of course it was. Actually I was nearby, working traffic control when Santa Reina was being evacuated. I got far enough up the hill to see the flames. Of course the smoke was everywhere. The wind was horrendous. I can’t imagine how awful that must have been for you being right in the middle of it all. Do you have nightmares?”
The question startled Lexi. How did Rosie know? “Sometimes.”
“Understandable.” Rosie spun the coffee cup around in a nervous gesture. “I’ll probably be having some of my own after this.” She tapped her temple. “I can’t stop seeing your brother with his arm thrust out. Things happened so quickly, it’s a blur. My partner saw the gun, heard me say ‘Drop it,’ saw Erik swing it toward us.” She shook her head. “If only I’d looked at it more closely.”
“But if it had been a real one . . .”
“Yeah.” She shut her eyes briefly. “I am so grateful I did not kill him.”
“The doctor said if he had to get shot, that was the best way for it to happen.”
“It could ruin his tennis game forever.”
“He doesn’t play tennis.”
“Another blessing.”
“Our dad plays. That’s why Erik doesn’t. The thing I don’t get is why Erik was so crazy. I haven’t been around him a whole lot while he’s drinking. Jenna says he always gets more mellow. This wasn’t mellow.”
“No, it wasn’t. Fist-fighting with his friend and threatening others with a toy gun is not mellow. I did see him wasted once—”
“Really?”
“Arrested him for a DUI. That’s how we met the first time, not that he remembered.” She shook her head. “Gracious and charming and witty. I’m not saying that in an admiring way. It was my impression that’s his personality no matter what.”
“It is.”
“Does he ever use drugs?”
“Drugs? I don’t think so. But then, would I know? We’re not all that close.”
“But you were out with him last night, in a bar downtown?”
“I don’t usually do that. I’ve never done it with him. I don’t even drink. But . . .” But Danny had been such a snot. “But . . .” How to explain that one to a stranger?
“That’s okay. We’re not supposed to be talking.” Rosie smiled and her dark eyes twinkled.
Lexi couldn’t help but smile back. It felt so good to talk about things. “But to tell you the truth, Tuyen has disrupted everything. And we were already upset about other stuff. Now Papa’s always scarce. Danny’s on my case about this and that. Erik lost his job—Why did you ask about drugs?”
“Oh, you know, that would explain his bizarre behavior.”
Lexi felt her eyes widen. “It would.”
“On the phone you said some guy was hassling Erik about Felicia?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Did he know him?”
“It’s hard to tell with Erik. Everybody knows him, and he’s one of those people who never meets a stranger.”
“What did this guy say?”
“He called Erik a moron and bought him a drink. People act plain weird in bars. Why they even talked to each other, I have no clue. The guy said everybody knew Felicia Matthews and Brett Abbott were together, had been for ages. They argued. Erik got louder and louder, more and more out of control.”
“Would you recognize this man if you saw him again?”
“Maybe.”
“Where do you think Erik got the gun? Not that it matters, considering it was a stupid toy—”
“That guy gave it to him.”
Rosie stared at her.
“I think he did, anyway. I didn’t hear the whole thing. Something about he could get Erik a gun. They left, I couldn’t keep up with them. I went to get my car.” She blew out a breath. “It was so awful.”
“Lexi, you might have to go through all this again. If Matthews or Abbott file charges, a defense attorney will need to know everything. Writing it down is a good idea while it’s fresh in your mind.”
“All right. They probably won’t send you to question me?”
Rosie smiled. “Probably not.”
“It’s easy talking to you.”
“But we didn’t talk.”
“Oh, yeah. Um, in case I don’t want to talk to you again, can I have your number? Though it’s probably stored in my cell now.”
“I’ll give you all my numbers.” Rosie unsnapped her purse and rummaged in it, noticing the message light on her cell. “Oops. Missed a text.” She handed Lexi a business card while reading her phone display. “It’s from my dad. ‘Where are you?’” Laughing, she stood. “He gave me a curfew and I’m late.”
Lexi shook her hand. “What time is curfew?”
“Six thirty! If I don’t shoot anyone this week, he says he’ll change it to eight o’clock. ’Bye, Lexi. Thanks for the chat we didn’t have. I needed it.”
“Me too. ’Bye.”
“Tell them I’m sorry.”
Lexi nodded and watched her walk away.
She wished she had a dad who gave her a six thirty curfew and sent text messages and made her laugh.
Thirty
Claire watched the policewoman make her way between the vacant patio tables at the Casa del Gusto. Rosie Delgado did not resemble the same woman who had come in her uniform to the hacienda with Tuyen. Nor did she fit what the newspaper described: a record-setting, in-your-face sharpshooter. She wore a flouncy embroidered top and knee-length black skirt, looking like other waitresses in the restaurant.
Like them, except for the distinct expression of sorrow creasing her face.
Lexi, seated beside Claire, pushed back her chair. “Rosie.”
“Hi.” Rosie greeted Lexi with a hug and then turned to Claire. “Mrs. Beaumont.”
“I’m Claire, remember?” She stood on legs still shaky days after the shooting and stepped around the table.
Rosie pressed her lips together.
“Oh, honey.” Claire hugged the young woman. “It’s all right.”
“I am so, so sorry.”
“I forgive you. We all forgive you.” She squeezed Rosie and, over her shoulder, returned Lexi’s smile.
“Thank you.”
Claire stepped back. “Can you talk a few minutes?”
Rosie smiled at Lexi. “Yes and no. Please, let’s sit.” As they all settled in around the table, she said, “How is he?”
“Great,” Lexi replied. “He’s going home Thursday.”
“And his friend?”
“Brett got out Saturday, but he’s been to see Erik every day since then. I guess they’re working through things.”
“He must be filing charges.”
Lexi shrugged. “Not that we know of. They go way back, best friends through thick and thin since they were about ten.”
“How about Felicia?”
“We heard she’s out of town. She got a temporary restraining order against Erik, but she didn’t file charges either. Don’t ask me why. I never took her as the forgiving type.”
“Happens all the time.” Rosie’s eyes closed briefly, as if she was weary.
Claire said, “How are you?”
“I’m . . .” She blew out a breath. “I’m okay. They’ve got me seeing a counselor, and I’ve talked with my priest. And the department’s attorney. I’m on desk duty until next week. The investigation cleared me. Which means what I did was acceptable.” Her face scrunched up again. “Which I cannot fathom.”
Lexi said, “So they’ll let you go back to your old job?”
“The counselor says I have to fathom it first. I mean, this is part of a cop’s life. This happens. If I can’t live with that—Is Erik really all right?”
Compassion for this hurting woman filled Claire. She and Max figured Rosie would have a rough go of it. When Lexi told Claire about the rest
aurant where she worked sometimes with her father, they thought it might be the place to unofficially contact her.
“Rosie, why don’t you come and see for yourself how he’s doing? I twisted his arm until he agreed to spend at least his first few days out of the hospital at the hacienda. Will you join us for dinner Thursday?”
“Uh, well, I want to apologize to him and everyone, but . . . Dinner? I don’t know if that’s appropriate.”
“Max and I see things differently. We believe Erik put himself into that situation, you were just doing your job. Rosie, the point is we want to show some token of our appreciation. You took care of our kids Friday night.”
“I shot your son.”
Claire saw the pain in the sparkly eyes. “You facilitated a desperately needed wake-up call.”
Rosie blinked. “That’s creative. You want to talk to my lawyer? Maybe he could use it as defense strategy.”
“Do you need one?”
“So far, technically, no.”
Claire smiled. “Please come.”
“What does Erik think about it all?”
She felt her smile fade. “He doesn’t remember anything.”
Rosie nodded as if she knew.
Claire figured she probably did know but hastened to explain. “They say there were hallucinogenic drugs in his system. Erik swears he doesn’t do drugs. Well, not counting alcohol. He also says he doesn’t own a gun, toy or otherwise. I know he hardly ever played with them when he was a child. The police are trying to find that guy Lexi said was in the bar with them.”
Lexi said, “Erik is horrified at what he did. For the record, he’s joined our club.” She paused, her lips dancing in a little smile.
“And which club is that?” Rosie asked.
“The ‘I Can’t Believe She Shot Him!’ club.”
Rosie groaned and put a hand to her forehead.
Claire exchanged another smile with her daughter. A familiar verse from the book of Romans sprang to mind, the one about loving God and then being able to see good come from even the most awful situations. Positives had already emerged from Erik’s fiasco. He couldn’t drink while he was in the hospital, and Lexi, too distraught to work, wanted to spend time with Claire.
“Seriously, Rosie,” Claire said, “the Beaumonts owe you. Tuyen is eager to see you as well. How about Thursday?”
