Hitz

by Sherryl Hancock

  Meanwhile, Nicolette leaned against the door jamb and cleared her throat. Ryan’s head snapped up, and he immediately looked guilty. “Mom! I—”

  “Don’t bother, Ryan,” Nicolette snapped, cutting him off. She looked at Mandy. “As soon as you put yourself back together”—she nodded toward the girl’s open shirt—“I want you out of my house. Ryan, I want you in the living room in ten minutes.” With that she turned and strode back down the hall.

  Jerith stood as she came into the living room, and she surprised him by walking right up to him and into his arms. He hugged her to him, knowing this was a shock for her. It was bad enough for her to know her son was having sex, but for her to catch him in the middle of doing just that was so much worse.

  Mandy walked in a few minutes later. Jerith watched her over Nicolette’s head with narrowed eyes as she went toward the front door. Nicolette heard the door open, and turned. “Mandy,” she said, her tone causing the girl to pause with an actual look of fear in her eyes. “I’m going to expect a phone call from your parents tonight, and if I don’t get it, you’d better expect a visit from me tomorrow. You got that?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Mandy said, looking sufficiently cowed.

  Nicolette nodded, and the girl left. She looked up at Jerith. “I want you to stay out of this, okay?” she said, quietly but firmly. Jerith nodded, knowing what she meant. She appreciated him giving Ryan advice, but this was something different entirely.

  When Ryan walked into the room, Jerith went out into the kitchen. Ryan watched him go, then looked back at his mother, his face very serious.

  “Sit down,” Nicolette said, sounding to Jerith—who could hear everything—like the sergeant he’d just seen at work.

  “Mom, I—”

  “Ryan! Stop. Just tell me this,” Nicolette said, her voice lowering. “When did you lose respect for me?”

  Ryan was silent for a moment, staring back at his mother. “I didn’t, Mom. You’re just overreacting to—”

  “Don’t pull that shit with me, Ryan Jacob. I’m not overreacting. I’m reacting the way any responsible parent would. I know that you and Mandy are on an intimate basis now, and while I don’t like it, I can’t change it either. But I am warning you, if I ever come into my house again and find you screwing some girl, you are so dead it’s not even funny.”

  “That’s not fair,” Ryan said, his eyes flashing with anger. “You and Jerith screw here, and that’s okay.”

  “Ryan…” Nicolette said, her voice trailing off ominously as she tried valiantly to regain control. “I know I don’t need to remind you that Jerith and I are adults and regardless of what you might think, you’re not.”

  Ryan sat silently for a long moment, his arms crossed in front of him, his eyes still showing anger. “It’s bullshit,” he said, standing to walk out of the room.

  “Turn your ass around and sit down,” Nicolette said, her tone deadly.

  Ryan, in his anger, didn’t hear it. He started to leave the room. Nicolette took three steps and grabbed his arm, spinning him around to face her. Ryan brought his hand up, like he was actually going to hit her. Nicolette grabbed his hand and took him to the ground, as she would a criminal.

  Jerith had heard her anger in the last words she’d spoken and had come into the living room to make sure everything was alright. He got there in time to see Ryan’s hand come up and Nicolette drop him to the ground. He stood, stunned, as she knelt with one knee on the ground and the other in the small of Ryan’s back. She leaned down, putting her face close to his. “If you ever go to take a swing at me again, you’re going to find yourself in such a deep hole you won’t know which way is up.” She moved off him, allowing him to get up. She stood as well, her eyes narrowed as she looked up at her son. “Now get the hell out of my sight,” she said, her eyes shooting sparks of green fire.

  Ryan didn’t make a sound. He turned and walked past Jerith, not looking at him as he made his way to his room. His bedroom door closed quietly. Nicolette gave Jerith a measured look, her face still showing the effects of her anger. She too walked past him, into the kitchen and out the back door. He found her an hour later in the backyard, on one of the wrought-iron chairs. She was sitting with her back to him. As he moved to look at her face, he saw that she was staring at a spot on the lawn, but not seeing it. Her eyes flicked to him as he came into view. He sat in the chair across from her, watching her.

  “You okay?” he said after a few minutes.

  Nicolette didn’t answer for a minute, then she looked at him, her lips pressed together as she sighed deeply. “Guess I just lost mother of the year, huh?” she said, her voice full of self-recrimination.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Nicolette looked at him for a long moment, shaking her head as she snickered. “I don’t even know that he was really going to hit me.”

  “He sure looked like he was gonna try.” Jerith shook his head. He couldn’t even imagine what would have happened to him if he’d ever done that. His father probably would have put him through a wall. “Bet he won’t do that again,” he said, the beginnings of a grin on his face. “In fact, I’ll remember never to make you mad either.”

  Nicolette was grinning now too. “Let that be a lesson, Mr. Michaels,” she said, wagging her finger at him.

  “Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” Jerith said crisply. He glanced behind Nicolette, and his expression changed. Nicolette sat up, looking behind her.

  Ryan was standing there with the phone in his hand. “It’s Thompson,” he said evenly, his face blank.

  Nicolette walked over to the back door. She took the phone gently, nodding to Ryan. “Thank you,” she said, then put the phone up to her ear.

  “Harris.” She listened for a moment. “We did? Already?” Her eyes widened, then she smiled. “Nothing like swift justice, huh? Okay.” She looked at her watch. “I’ll meet you there in an hour. Assemble the unit, okay? Thanks, Thompson.” She listened for a moment, then laughed. “Yes, this makes up for Harlow.” She hung up a short time later.

  “I gotta go,” she told Jerith.

  “Where?”

  “That warrant from today got approved, and we want to do the raid as soon as possible. In an hour, to be exact,” she said, walking into the house. Jerith followed her to her bedroom.

  “You just supervise though, right?”

  She grinned at him as if he were slightly mad. “No, I go in with them, yelling ‘Police! Search warrant!’ and all that good stuff.”

  “But… the other day, last week, you weren’t—I mean, you didn’t… Oh crap, I mean, you didn’t do that last week when I met you, did you? ’Cause you didn’t look dressed for it…”

  Nicolette was laughing now, as she put on jeans and a navy blue T-shirt. She glanced at him as she walked over to her closet and pulled out a pair of black boots that looked like a low version of combat boots. “No, I wasn’t on the raid team that day,” she said as she sat down to put them on. “It was my team, but I did cleanup. I had court before—that’s why I was dressed the way I was.”

  “But tonight, you’re on the raid team?” Jerith asked, stumbling over the words as he tried to use the right terminology.

  “Right,” she said, indicating her clothing. “Tonight, it’s boots, jeans, Kevlar… that kind of stuff.”

  “Kevlar? That’s the bulletproof stuff, right?”

  “Yes, mine’s in my car,” she said, amused. She wasn’t used to having to explain this stuff to people; everyone she knew was law enforcement.

  “And you’ll be, like, at the back, right?” he asked hopefully.

  She looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head slowly. “Sorry, dear, I’m on the entry team this time.”

  “Which means what?”

  “That means I’m with the two other people who give knock and notice then kick the door in. And before you ask,” she said, realizing she’d use another cop term to describe a cop term, “knock and notice is when you identify yourself and t
ell the bad guys you have a warrant.”

  “Thank you,” he said, grinning, because he knew he sounded dumb. This was pretty new to him. He’d seen some of this stuff on TV, but they never fully explained any of it. Plus he wasn’t used to having the woman he was involved with going out on anything like a raid. She’d already been through the most dangerous thing she could as his date, and that had been the concert. This certainly made the atmosphere there pale by comparison. “Okay, so you are on this entry team, but you’re safe, right?”

  She nodded. “Usually.”

  “Not a very reassuring term.”

  Nicolette shrugged as she stood. “Sorry, ’bout the best I can do.”

  Jerith reached out and took her in his arms, kissing her deeply. “Try harder,” he said when the kiss ended.

  She grinned at him, her eyes glittering with humor. “Sorry, babe. Can’t.”

  “I don’t think I like this.”

  “What part? Me being a cop, me being unreassuring, or me being in danger?”

  “All of the above,” he replied, looking serious.

  “Jerith…” she said, starting to look worried.

  “I know, I know, it’s your job,” he said, curling his lips in distaste.

  “Hey! I went to your concert and put up with nasty looks from every female in the place. You can do this.”

  “I’m being a man, aren’t I?”

  She sighed. “Yes, you are.”

  “Habit.”

  “I understand.”

  He kissed her again and held her close to him. He was surprised by the tight knot in his stomach. He hadn’t ever felt this kind of worry for anyone but Billy, and his anxiety there was career-related as well as personal. This was strictly personal.

  A little while later, Nicolette walked out of the room with Jerith trailing behind her. They found Ryan sitting in the living room. He looked up from the couch when they walked in.

  “Raid?” Ryan asked, taking in Nicolette’s clothing.

  She nodded.

  “You’re on entry?” Ryan said. He looked surprised. Jerith felt a little more stupid; Ryan obviously knew his cop vocabulary.

  “My case,” Nicolette said.

  Ryan nodded, understanding. “’Kay. Be careful,” he added quietly.

  “I will be,” she said, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. “I love you, you know.”

  Ryan nodded. He still felt a little put out by the earlier argument so didn’t return the declaration.

  Nicolette straightened up, looking at Jerith questioningly. “What kind of trouble are you going to get into tonight without me around?”

  Jerith shrugged. “I think I’ll go hang out at the hotel, order room service, check on Billy and all that,” he said, aware that he may not be welcome to stay at Nicolette’s.

  “You could hang out here if you want,” Ryan put in, looking up at him.

  “Or I could hang out here,” Jerith said, as if that had been part of his original statement.

  Nicolette nodded, then reached up to kiss him. He touched her face gently as they kissed. It seemed almost poignant, and that bothered Nicolette. She didn’t like this kind of feeling before going into a raid. When the kiss ended, she whispered to him, “Lighten up, will ya. You’re giving me the willies.”

  “Sorry,” Jerith said, looking contrite. “I’m an amateur at this, remember.”

  She grinned. “I remember.”

  Nicolette drove downtown to the office. She met her team in the back parking lot. Many of them were suited up already in their black raid gear. She stood at the trunk of her car, putting on her body armor and her police jersey. She checked her ammunition magazines as well as her weapon.

  “You got the plans?” she asked Thompson.

  “Yep, right here.” Thompson held up a rolled-up sheaf of papers.

  They unrolled the plans on the hood of one of the police cars and discussed how the raid would be carried out. Twenty minutes later, they got into their respective vehicles and headed to the raid site, seven miles away in South Sacramento.

  At the house, Nicolette and her two crew members made their way to the front door. She motioned for three other members of the unit to go around the back. She caught movement inside the house.

  “They know we’re here!” she said, then yanked her radio off her belt. “Hit ’em now!” Immediately, she banged on the door and yelled, “Police! Search warrant!”

  She stepped back, letting her crew members hit the door with the handheld battering ram. She heard a simultaneous crash from the back and knew the other entry team was in. Nicolette’s crew moved inside and started searching the house.

  Nicolette caught movement upstairs and, grabbing one of her team by the shoulder, she motioned with her weapon toward the upper level. The man, Rick Lyons—a newer member of the team—nodded and followed her up the stairs. They both stuck close to the wall, watching for any movement downstairs as well. As she reached the top, she heard movements in a nearby room and someone shouting, then a scream from a child. Nicolette motioned in the direction of the room to the right, and said in a harsh whisper, “Hit it—go!”

  Lyons hesitated. He had a shotgun and was therefore a point man, but he waited a moment too long to bring the weapon up. The door to the room was thrown open and a man came striding out, with a thirty-eight-caliber pistol pointed right at Lyons.

  “Lyons!” Nicolette screamed, only a foot away from the younger officer. She shoved him back and down the stairs, thereby putting herself in the line of fire. She was surprised when she heard the concussion of the thirty-eight going off. She was even more surprised when she felt the impact of the bullet, but she turned and fired, catching the man in the chest, as she herself fell down the stairs. She bounced a few times, hitting her head on the wrought-iron railing. The rest of her tumble was cut short as she was grabbed by two strong hands. She looked up hazily, seeing Lyons’ face; he had a cut on his forehead, and he was dragging her hastily down the stairs, yelling for a paramedic.

  Once outside, Nicolette found herself surrounded by people. There were paramedics, there were police officers in uniform; she even caught the lights of a TV news crew. She lay in the grass, feeling very dazed. She was having difficulty breathing. All she could think of was that she’d been shot, and what did that mean? She thought of Ryan, and wondered if he would hear on the news that she’d been shot before one of her crew called him. She tried to tell someone to call her kid, but she couldn’t yell—her head was aching too badly.

  ****

  It was 10:30 at night, an hour and a half after the raid had taken place, when the phone rang at the Harris home. Ryan answered. He and Jerith were still sitting on the couch, watching a movie. Jerith looked over as Ryan picked up the phone, expecting it to be Nicolette calling to tell them she’d be home soon.

  “Hello?” Ryan said. “Yes, this is—She’s what!” He’d gone very pale. Jerith sat up, his eyes taking on an alarmed look at the expression on Ryan’s face. “Is she—she’s—” Ryan was stammering, not thinking straight. He nodded a few times, closing his eyes at one point. “Okay, thank you,” he said finally, and hung up.

  “What happened?”

  Ryan sat for a second, gathering his thoughts. “Mom’s been shot,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm. “They said she’s okay, that she should be home in an hour or two.”

  “Are they nuts?” Jerith asked, his voice full of disbelief. “She’s been shot and she’ll be home soon? What kind of hospitals do you people have here?”

  “Jerith,” Ryan said, holding up his hand. “You don’t know my mom. She hates hospitals with a passion. She has ever since I was born. She said my birth was so traumatic she can’t walk into a hospital without feeling sick to her stomach. She won’t stay overnight in one unless she’s out cold.”

  “But, she’s—I mean, if she was shot…”

  “Her vest stopped the bullet. Fuller said she’s got a nasty bruise, a couple of cracked ribs, and a really bad at
titude.”

  Jerith shook his head, his face reflecting his lack of comprehension. This seemed major to him, but Ryan seemed to be taking it in his stride.

  “This happen often?” Jerith asked finally.

  Ryan shrugged. “No, not often, but there’s been lots of bruises, cuts, and the like, and lots of close calls. I guess I’m used to it.” He looked chagrined then. “I did freak out a little bit when they said she’d been shot. All I could think of was this afternoon.”

  Jerith nodded. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

  An hour later, they were both surprised when Nicolette walked in. She was wearing her police jacket, and she had a nasty-looking bruise on her cheek and a cut on her forehead.

  Jerith and Ryan stood in unison, moving to her side. She held up a hand to stop them. “I’m okay, guys.” She went past them and into her bedroom. Jerith found her a few minutes later, getting into the shower.

  “Is that a good idea?” he said, not sure how badly hurt she was.

  “It’s not a bad one,” she said, closing the shower door behind her. Jerith sat on the bed to wait for her to finish. When he heard the shower turn off, he walked into the bathroom and held up a towel for her to step into. He took a good look at her as she got out, and his eyes went immediately to the dark bruise on the left side of her torso.

  “Jesus…” he breathed. “I hope the other guy looks worse.”

  Nicolette didn’t smile; she simply shrugged. “You’d have to ask the coroner. He’s dead,” she said evenly.

  His eyes widened in surprise. “What? Nicky…” he said then, as a look of concern crossed his face.

  Again, Nicolette held up her hand in abeyance. “Don’t. I’m fine. It was him or me, and he drew first blood.” She glanced down at the darkening bruise, shrugging. “So to speak.” With that said, she walked back into her bedroom and pulled on a bathrobe. She left the room, and Jerith followed, still stunned by her revelation as well as her cavalier attitude. He didn’t fault her for what she’d done, but he considered it pretty major—yet she seemed so nonchalant about it.