“This is going to be a really hard few days for everyone, Randy, and we’re going to have to be the strong ones. Do you think you can do it?”
Randy tried to process everything. He was relying on her and she knew that she would be strong through this, for him, because he needed her. She nodded to him and he smiled at her, squeezing her shoulders that he still held.
Two hours later in the office, Joe met with the chief of police. He requested a funeral with honors for Tim. After some consideration, the chief agreed. Joe then had the unfortunate responsibility of calling Tim’s parents in Oceanside. He had their phone number from the paperwork that Tim had filled out only a few short days before. With Randy sitting across from him, her eyes glued to his, Joe dialed their number. A woman answered on the fourth ring, sounding out of breath.
“May I speak to Mrs. Bollings?” Joe asked, his voice calm and clear, but his eyes told Randy a different story. She could tell he was dreading having to tell Tim’s parents. She reached out and took his hand. He looked at her, a smile twitched at his lips. He held her hand in his, and Randy found herself looking at his ring.
“This is Mrs. Bollings,” the woman answered, her voice a little hesitant.
“Mrs. Bollings this is Sergeant Joseph Sinclair, of the San Diego Police Department. Ma’am, I’m sorry to have to inform you that your son has been murdered.”
“Oh my God!” Mrs. Bollings said, crying. Randy saw a look of pain cross Joe’s face. He closed his eyes, and Randy squeezed his hand to remind him she was here for him. “Was it Timothy or David?”
“It was Tim, ma’am,” Joe said.
“When? How? Why?” Mrs. Bollings was asking, her voice bordering on hysteria.
“Ma’am, he was murdered by a gang that he and his brother have been involved with. He was trying to help us take down their leader. They killed him, ma’am, I’m very sorry.”
“That gang! I knew that David was involved, but he promised me that Timothy wouldn’t be part of it. He promised me he was getting out …” Her voice trailed off, as she cried.
“Ma’am, both David and Tim were trying to get out,” Joe said gently. “It’s just not that easy.”
“Did you know my son?” Mrs. Bollings asked then, her voice hopeful.
“Not very well, ma’am. He was mainly working with my partner, Lieutenant Chevalier. She’s the one who found him …” Joe’s voice trailed off, he wasn’t sure if she would want to hear the details.
“Would I be able to speak to her?” Mrs. Bollings asked.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, Midnight—Lieutenant Chevalier, isn’t here today. She’s very upset about your son’s death and I’m afraid she’s not going to be up to talking to anyone for a while.” The sorrow in Joe’s voice conveyed his worry about his partner, and Mrs. Bollings heard it and took solace in the fact that this Lieutenant Chevalier was upset by the loss of her son too.
“I understand,” Mrs. Bollings said.
“Ma’am, we’ve arranged for Tim to be buried with honors. I hope that will be okay.”
“Yes, that would be very nice. Is that really allowed?” Mrs. Bollings asked.
“Yes, ma’am, in special cases. Tim was well thought of here, and we feel that his death is a great loss to us all. If there is anything I or any member of the department can do to help you through this time, I sincerely hope that you will call me.” Joe’s voice held all the sincerity that it possibly could, because he knew what it was to lose a loved one, and he knew how hard it could be.
They talked about the funeral arrangements and after a few minutes they hung up. Joe looked at Randy and she smiled at him. Tears were running down her face and Joe softly brushed them away.
“You okay?” he asked gently.
“Yes,” Randy said, nodding, her eyes on him. “That was very nice. You handled it so well I think you made her feel better.”
“Well, I thought this would get easier to do with experience but it doesn’t. It’s always hard, and it always hurts.”
His eyes took on a faraway look and Randy knew he was thinking of his parents. She sat holding his hand, not saying anything, but just being there with him.
****
After Joe left, Rick went back into the bedroom, and stood looking down at Midnight. She was still asleep, her face buried in the crook of her arm. Rick lay down next to her, beginning to feel the sleeplessness of the night. Midnight stirred, as if unconsciously sensing his presence again and she moved closer to him. Rick fell asleep holding her and thinking of how nice it felt. He woke four hours later, lying on his stomach, his arms wrapped around the pillow under his head. He realized, with a start that Midnight was not in bed anymore. He jumped up, strode into the living room, and found her curled up on the couch. The stereo was on, but it was very low. Rick shivered at how cold the room was but she didn’t seem to notice it.
“Babe,” Rick said, reaching for the afghan that lay on her loveseat. “It’s freezing in here,” he said as he draped it over her.
She looked up at him, her eyes were sad, but she didn’t seem as out of it as she had the night before. He touched her cheek as she closed her eyes. He knelt down next to her, looking into her eyes.
“You scared the hell out of us last night.” She just looked at him, her eyes showing no emotion. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft.
She nodded and leaned back against the couch. She looks pale, Rick thought to himself. “I’ll be right back.” He went into her kitchen.
A little while later, he came back carrying a mug. Sitting down, he handed it to her. “Drink this, it’ll make you feel better,” he said.
Midnight looked at the cup. “What is it?” she asked, her voice weak and hoarse.
“Just try it, love,” Rick said. She took a drink and looked at him.
“Is it tea?” she asked, her voice surprised.
Rick laughed. “Yes, it’s tea. It’ll make you feel better, trust me.”
“How’d you find tea here?” she said then, gesturing toward her kitchen.
“Joe must’ve had it here at one point or another. This particular blend has sentimental value.” Rick smiled then, in a melancholy way.
“Why?” Midnight asked, sipping at the tea again, her eyes on him.
“It’s the tea that my mum makes for us whenever we’re not feeling well, mentally or physically. She thinks it cures everything. It does seem to have a calming effect,” he said then, looking at her.
“Is that why the English drink tea?” Midnight asked, almost smiling.
“Probably,” Rick said, smiling down at her.
They sat in companionable silence for a while. Eventually, she leaned against him, and his arm went around her comfortingly.
“Where’s Joe?” she asked. She was still leaning against him but facing away.
“He went to the office. He’s taking care of things there.” Rick’s voice was gentle, not wanting to upset her again.
Midnight nodded, understanding what “things” Joe would be taking care of.
“Are you two … did you …” She didn’t finish as Rick’s arm tightened around her.
He was surprised that with everything she was going through, she was still worried about his and Joe’s friendship.
“Yes everything is okay. You’re more important to us than any argument.” His voice was strong, and she felt stronger because of it.
They spent the day sitting together in her living room. Rick would get up every so often to get Midnight something to eat, or answer the phone. Joe called three times; Rick assured him that Midnight was fine, over and over. Midnight slept off and on during the day. When she slept, she lay against Rick. Rick would lean against the arm and the back of the couch, and Midnight would snuggle against his chest, her hand on his shoulder. It was very comfortable, for both of them, and Rick found that he couldn’t hide his protective feelings for her anymore. He was beginning to realize that he didn’t care if she loved him or not. Just being with her made him feel com
plete, and he wasn’t willing to give that up, even if she never loved him. He’d stay with her as long as she’d let him.
****
When Joe and Randy left the office late that afternoon they were both exhausted. They had worked steadily almost frantically to tie up the loose ends that surrounded Tim’s death. Joe wanted everything wrapped up so that Midnight wouldn’t have to deal with anything painful when she returned to the office.
He sincerely hoped that she would be of a state of mind to return. He wasn’t totally sure of her anymore. Her words of the night before rang in his mind. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” she had said, and even though Joe knew that she had been hysterical, part of him was terrified that she had meant it. He wasn’t sure what he would do if Midnight quit FORS. She would be quitting him because that’s what it really was. The thought ran through his mind a number of times that day. Looking over at her empty office, he had felt a sick feeling deep in his stomach. He was anxious to get back to her house and see how she was. Rick had told him that she seemed fine, but Joe knew that Rick would not worry him on purpose.
When Joe pulled up in front of Randy’s house, he shut the car off, looking over at her. “We did good work today,” he said, smiling over at her.
She nodded, and then she reached out and touched the fading bruise on his cheek, her teeth worrying her lower lip. “Is everything okay now, between you and Rick?” she asked, her voice quiet.
Joe considered the question for a moment and then nodded. “Pretty much. There was just a lot of underlying shit going on.”
Randy nodded, taking on a shy look. Joe had come to know that look meant she wanted to ask something, but was afraid to. “What is it Randy?” he asked gently.
She hesitated for a moment, her eyes looking into his. “Are you and Midnight okay?” she asked, and Joe knew what she was asking.
He sighed then. “Randy, I did something that I don’t know if she can ever forgive me for. Right now, though, she needs me, so I guess we’ll deal with the other stuff later.”
Randy looked at him, feeling sad, for whatever rift had been caused between him and Midnight and sincerely hoping that they could work it out.
“It’ll be okay,” Randy said then, trying to make him feel better.
He looked at her, a grin on his face as he shook his head. “Ever the optimist, aren’t you?” he said, but there was no derision in his voice.
“Someone has to be,” Randy said, smiling at him.
“I guess so,” Joe replied, and then he looked up and saw Darrell standing in the driveway, his fists planted firmly on his hips, his feet apart. “Oh, boy,” Joe said, and Randy followed his gaze.
When she saw Darrell she got out of the car, and Joe did the same. Keeping the car between them, Joe leaned against the driver’s door, facing Darrell. Darrell eyed him as Randy came up the driveway.
“Darrell, you’re home early,” Randy said, trying to sound casual.
“Yeah,” Darrell said sarcastically, “so you and your boyfriend boss will have to say goodbye here.”
“Darrell!” Randy said, surprised at his words.
Joe strode around the car, and right up to Darrell. They stood eye to eye.
“Just what is your problem, man?” Joe said angrily.
“Well, Mr. Rich Cop, you’re my problem,” Darrell said, his voice just as angry.
“And just what is it I’ve done to you?”
“You’re screwing with my sister’s head, and don’t think I can’t see it either!”
Joe’s eyes went to Randy. She was standing beside him, looking up at Darrell in surprise. “She looks fine to me,” Joe said, his voice calmer.
“Yeah, well she isn’t fine. She walks around the house depressed half the time, other half she’s moody. It’s all been since she’s been dating you. So I figure that you’re to blame,” Darrell said, his meaning pretty clear.
Joe looked at Randy again, surprised at what Darrell had said. He knew that the timing with them had been bad. He worried now that it had been worse than he realized. Suddenly, he felt like a world-class bastard.
“Randy?” he said, his voice concerned.
Randy looked up at him, clearly upset by what Darrell was saying, but unable to lie to Joe. She nodded slowly. The look in Joe’s eyes was pained, and he shook his head.
“Randy, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. I just … I didn’t think.” He was looking at Randy apologetically.
“Yeah, you don’t think,” Darrell interjected, not liking the way his sister was looking up at this cop. “You’re just some slick bad ass in a Porsche who drops her as soon as he gets bored!”
Neither Joe nor Randy was looking at him; they were looking at each other. But they heard what he was saying.
Randy turned her attention to him and scowled. “That’s not true, Darrell. Joe has been going through a lot lately and he certainly doesn’t have the time to worry about how everyone around him is dealing with something that is really his business!”
Randy’s voice was angrier than Darrell had ever heard before. He looked down at her seeing the fire in her eyes, and he was taken back by it. Why was she defending this man? He was obviously totally self-involved if he couldn’t see how Randy had been feeling lately, so why would she want to defend him? Darrell wasn’t sure, but he knew he didn’t like it. He looked at Joe then, his eyes blazing with his own anger.
“Are you happy now?” Darrell asked. “Now my own baby sister is defending you. Does that make you feel like a man, Sinclair?” His voice took on a derogatory tone.
Joe had to stifle the desire to punch Darrell in the face; he didn’t want to upset Randy further.
After a few tense moments, Joe shook his head, his eyes on Randy again. She was looking at him, tears in her eyes. He could see fear there too, and he assumed that she was afraid that he and Darrell would get into a fight. In actuality, Randy was terrified that Joe would think that she was too unstable to handle the pressures of dating and working for him and would break it off with her to make Darrell happy.
Darrell stood tense and ready for a fight; he was shocked when Sinclair put his hands up, in a surrendering gesture. “I’m not going to fight you Darrell,” Joe said, sounding defeated. Randy swallowed hard, afraid of what he was going to say next. “But by the same token, I’m not letting your sister go either. She means a lot to me and, regardless of how things have been lately, she continues to mean a lot to me. I’m sorry if it’s causing you problems but I’m not giving her up.” Joe’s voice was sure and calm. Randy watched him with a smile on her face.
Darrell looked back at Joe for a long time, not saying anything, realizing that he had no answer to what Joe had said.
“Fine, then,” Darrell said, his face a mask of anger. He gave Joe one more measured look, and then turned on his heel and walked back up the driveway. Randy watched him go, a sad look on her face.
“Randy, why didn’t you talk to me?” Joe said, putting his hand on her arm. She looked at him and shrugged. “Well, I guess I’ve been a little out of touch lately,” Joe said, his voice self-depreciating. Then he looked at her, his eyes holding hers. “But from now on, I want you to talk to me, do you understand?”
Randy nodded, her eyes very serious. Joe hugged her and kissed the top of her head.
“When this all blows over, we’ll talk, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
“Okay,” Randy said, smiling up at him.
Joe walked back over to his car, and before getting in he flipped her a casual salute, to which she laughed. He got into his car and drove off. Randy hugged herself, glad that he had cared about how she was feeling. She knew that Darrell would probably be harder to deal with now, but she didn’t care, because she knew that Joseph Michael Sinclair cared about her.
When he got to Midnight’s house, he used his key to unlock the door. He found Midnight and Rick on the couch in the living room. Midnight was asleep, and Rick was holding her. Rick looked up as Joe entered th
e room.
“Hey man,” he said.
“Hey,” Joe replied, sitting down across from where Rick and Midnight were. “She okay?” he asked.
“She’s a lot better today. How did things go at the office?” Rick asked, taking in Joe’s haggard look.
He knew that this wasn’t going easy on Joe either, but Joe was hanging on, and Rick was amazed once again at Joe’s tenacity.
Joe scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Okay, I guess. His mother took it pretty well. She wanted to talk to Night though.”
“Did you tell her that Midnight is a little indisposed at this time?” Rick asked, worried about Midnight having to deal with a hysterical mother.
“Yeah, and I think it made her feel a little better. You know, that we’re upset about his death too …” Joe’s voice trailed off, as Midnight stirred. She opened her eyes, and looked at him.
“I thought I heard your voice,” she said, her own voice quiet.
Joe smiled at her. “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay,” Midnight said, sitting up.
Her hair was tousled and she looked very young, but the sorrow in her eyes told a different story.
“Midnight,” Joe said, looking at her seriously, “are you okay?”
She nodded, tears coming to her eyes.
Joe shook his head, grinning at her. “Yeah, I can tell.” He stood, moving to kneel in front of her, his eyes pained. “Night I’m sorry about everything.” The sorrow in his voice made the tears in her eyes spill over. She reached out to him and he hugged her to him.
Rick watched the exchange with a lump in his throat. He was glad that they were friends again. He hated the idea that their relationship had been destroyed because of something as uncontrollable as unchecked anger and emotion.
Midnight reveled in Joe’s embrace. Between Rick and Joe, she felt cocooned in security, like nothing could intrude and hurt her anymore. She knew that she was going to have to deal with her feelings about Tim’s death, and would have to attend yet another funeral for a boy who died way before his time. She took comfort in knowing that Joe and Rick would be there to support her through all of it. She also knew that soon she would have to deal with her feelings for Rick, but she didn’t want to do that just now. She was too sensitized to everything right now. The last thing she wanted to tackle were feelings that were absolutely foreign to her. For now, she was happy to have the security of these two Englishmen and their gallant ways.
Building Empires (MidKnight Blue Book 1) Page 24
