Captain's Choice

by VK Powell

  She stepped out into the hall. “How’s my officer?” she asked, still several yards away.

  Kerstin cringed at the anguish on her face and in her dark eyes. She remembered Bennett’s comment about not asking her officers to do something she wouldn’t and wondered if Bennett would take the injured officer’s place if possible.

  “He’s sustained serious injuries, none appear to be life-threatening at this time, but we’ll know more after the X-rays and other tests. Has his family been notified?”

  “His family?” Kerstin’s question was almost a gasp. “You said the injuries weren’t life-threatening.”

  “He’s still unconscious. I’ll need permission for further treatment beyond stabilization,” the doctor explained and looked back at Bennett. “You understand.”

  “Of course. My lieutenant is contacting the family.” The doctor turned to leave, and Bennett added, “Please keep me informed.” She glanced at Kerstin and didn’t seem to register who she was for a moment but finally said, “You really should go. I have to call the chief, visit the accident scene, and I’ll be here until I know my officer is out of danger. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Kerstin nodded.

  “Well, you don’t look it.”

  “So you’ve said. I just don’t like hospitals.”

  “So you’ve said, but not why.” Kerstin avoided her stare, and Bennett looked back toward the waiting officers. “I should brief them. Excuse me.”

  “I’ll wait for you…if that’s all right.”

  “You’re welcome to wait with us.”

  “I don’t want to intrude.” She purposely eased her hand closer to Bennett’s until they touched and then held it momentarily. The connection reminded her of a simpler time when she believed in dreams and the possibility of their fruition. She withdrew so quickly it seemed almost comical. “Go. Your guys need you. We’ll catch up later.” She didn’t wait for a reply before rushing toward the exit, the walls blending into an institutional-beige haze. Why had she touched Bennett when they were both so emotionally vulnerable? Hospitals and emotions, never a good mix.

  Since her mother’s stroke, hospitals reminded her of desperation and pain. Now she could add another feeling to the jumbled mixture. She needed to breathe deeply, to push down the unwanted memories and cravings. Once outside, she ran to Bennett’s car and leaned against the side, pulling for breath.

  “Are you okay, ma’am?” asked a paramedic exiting an ambulance.

  “Needed some air.”

  “Hospitals can have that effect.” The young man walked away, glancing back until the emergency room doors closed behind him.

  Kerstin kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the hood of the car, burying her face in her hands to stop the memories—her mother lying helpless, blue eyes begging to understand what was happening; Kerstin walking the halls every day and curled in a small recliner at night waiting for the results of endless tests; the smells of blood, vomit, and the deodorized scent of cleaning chemicals.

  Her experience today wasn’t as personal, but certainly disturbing. She’d been helpless and unable to reach her mother during those first hours in the hospital because of her condition. And today she couldn’t truly connect with Bennett or help her at all because of their distance.

  Her nerves jangled, a slow unraveling of control. Neither of those situations had been within her power to alter. She let the truth sink in. Slowly her frustration and discomfort from the meeting evaporated in a desire to help, but she had no idea where to start. Bennett’s officers were as stoic as she’d tried to be. She slid off the car and slipped her feet back into her shoes. At least she wouldn’t complicate things any further. She’d talk to Bennett about work another time. Giving her bag that rested on the floorboard a final glance, she walked toward the front of the hospital, texting Bennett on the way: Got a taxi. Bag in your car. See you tomorrow. Good luck.

  Several hours later, Bennett glanced down at Kerstin’s text and tapped in a response.

  Sorry I couldn’t talk. My office at ten?

  Okay.

  She dialed Mama’s number and stepped into the hall. “Are you terribly busy?”

  “I heard about the accident. G-ma and I are whipping up some wraps to bring to the hospital. What else can I do?”

  Bennett slumped against the door frame, relief and gratitude making her weak. “How do you always know exactly what I need?”

  “I’m a mother, and I’ve had lots of experience with cops. How are you, honey?”

  “Trying to keep the guys’ spirits up until we hear, and you know cops and food. I love you, Mama. See you shortly.” She enjoyed the feeling of being truly known and loved for a few seconds before returning to the tension in the waiting room. The two original assist officers and their supervisor still waited to hear more about their squad mate, after she’d sent the others home or back to their shifts. “I’ve ordered something decent to eat, not canteen food.”

  “Thanks, Cap,” the sergeant answered.

  The officers nodded and continued to pace a pattern around the table and each other. She understood the need to vent nervous energy. She considered a stroll through the parking lot herself but decided on a few laps around the hospital. “I’ll be back in a few, Sergeant. Call me if you hear anything.”

  The sergeant nodded, and Bennett walked down the hall toward the canteen, the farthest distance from their location, taking long, deliberate strides to stretch her muscles. The movement released some of her anxiety but couldn’t relieve the weight of the situation. A police chase resulting in the death of an innocent bystander was a worst-case scenario. Her officer would likely second-guess his decision, relive the incident over and over, and perhaps reconsider his career choice. The grieving family could never be consoled or compensated for their loss. And she couldn’t do anything to help either of them. After three laps around the floor, she slowed her pace. She was on her final pass when she saw a familiar figure slouched forward on a table in the snack area, her head resting on her hands.

  “Emory?”

  Emory Blake turned her head to the side, wiped her face and eyes with a napkin, and raked her fingers through tendrils of auburn hair that had escaped her usually tight French braid. She finally faced Bennett. “Hello, Ben. How are you?”

  “Okay.” Just like Emory to be more concerned about others. She was a social worker with the hospital, and the job fit her nurturing personality perfectly. “May I join you?” When Emory nodded, Bennett pulled a chair closer and placed her hand on Emory’s forearm. “What’s wrong?”

  Emory sniffled and shook her head. “The usual. Child abuse, pretty bad case. How can people hurt children?”

  Bennett’s insides clenched into a hard knot. “No idea. It defies decency and common sense. Want to talk about it?”

  “Not really. Just needed a good cry. I’ll be okay now.”

  “Will you? Will any of us who see these things on a regular basis? I sometimes wonder what it does to our souls, and if we’ll continue to believe in love and kindness.”

  “Bennett Carlyle, you’re starting to sound like an old philosopher.”

  “Nah. Just a realist or maybe a skeptic.”

  “How’s your officer?” Emory asked, slipping into professional mode.

  “So far so good. How did you know about the accident?”

  “Hospital grapevine. How are you holding up?”

  Bennett, focused on feelings other than her own, wasn’t sure she had an honest answer, and Emory was the kind of woman who expected the truth. Bennett’s shoulders ached and a headache pounded at the base of her skull. “I’m devastated for the family who lost a loved one in the accident, worried about my officer’s condition, and I’m contemplating the details that could turn a routine internal-affairs investigation into a nightmare. Under the circumstances, I guess I’m okay. A lot to think about.”

  Emory leaned forward, now the nurturer, and briefly cupped Bennett’s hand. “And none of it is your fault.
You understand, right?”

  The statement caught her off guard, and she simply nodded.

  “Do you really?”

  The intensity of Emory’s green-eyed stare made Bennett wonder how close she and Mama had become through the years working together on hospital social events and fund-raisers. “Intellectually, yes, but sometimes it’s hard to separate professional responsibility from personal accountability.”

  “It is indeed, but for our own sanity, we have to master the art. Just like with my cases.”

  “How did you become so smart?”

  Emory shrugged and offered a quick smile. “Maybe it’s the decade and a half of experience I have on you. How’s your family? Simon and Stephanie? Dylan?”

  “Good. Simon and Stephanie live on the same street in Fisher Park, but you probably already know that. G-ma and Mama want all their children close, even when we fly the nest. Dylan still lives at home for the time being, a financially challenged ER doctor.”

  “I see her occasionally passing in the halls. She’s quite impressive.” Emory broke eye contact and brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “And…Jasmine?”

  “Jazz is great. Made lieutenant a few days ago and is settling in like a pro. You haven’t seen Jazz in years, have you? I mean since we graduated? She went away to college for a few years.”

  Emory shook her head. “Strange too. You’d think our paths would cross at some point, professionally, I mean. I see you and Dylan, so…” A light blush colored her cheeks.

  “Maybe we should make a proper introduction some time, off the job.”

  “Oh, I’m not—”

  “Captain?” One of Bennett’s officers stood at the canteen entrance. “A nice lady dropped off the food, if you’re hungry.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be right there.” The officer walked away, and Bennett turned back to Emory. She wanted to continue their conversation, but Emory grabbed her bag and headed toward the door. “Want to join us for something to eat?”

  “No thanks. I need to get home. Early day tomorrow.”

  Bennett smiled. “Hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

  “Not at all.” Emory gave Bennett a hug and discreetly whispered in her ear, “And don’t worry about the substation either. You’ll work it out.”

  “What?”

  “Delays and old friends complicating life. It’ll work itself out. You’ll see.”

  “How do you know about—”

  “Hospital gossip. Nothing is sacred on the grapevine. Good night, Bennett.” Emory gave her arm a final squeeze before leaving.

  On her way back to join the officers, Bennett thought about Emory’s comment regarding the substation. Definitely not good that people were talking about her personal challenges with Kerstin, even worse that the project was a subject of rumors and speculation. She hoped the chief wouldn’t hear any of it.

  Chapter Ten

  Jazz’s soft voice cut through Bennett’s sleepy haze “Ben? Ben?” She raised her head from the table, and Jazz stood over her with two cups of coffee. “Have you been here all night?”

  Bennett looked around, getting her bearings, momentarily unsure of where here was. Uncomfortable hospital waiting room. “More or less. Went to the scene for a quick look-see.”

  “Sleep much?”

  “Must’ve dozed off. I wanted to know about the surgery. What’s the time?”

  “Almost ten.” Jazz placed the coffee on the table and joined her.

  “Great commander I am, right?” She took a long sip and prayed for a swift jolt of caffeine to clear her head.

  “As a matter of fact, you are. I stopped by the nurses’ station on my way in. Jen said the procedure to repair the compound fracture of the officer’s femur went well. He’ll be out of commission from four to six months, but he will recover.”

  Bennett let out a long sigh and relaxed slightly. “That’s great. I’ll let the guys know when I get to the station.”

  “I briefed the morning sergeant and asked him to notify oncoming shifts.”

  “You’re one hell of a 2IC, Jazz Perry.”

  “Of course. You wouldn’t let any jackleg be your second-in-command. We make a good team, which brings me to the next item of business. You need to rest, Ben, and I’m not channeling G-ma and Mama. You’ve been up all night and look like hell. I checked by the station, and you don’t have anything urgent on your calendar, unless you didn’t tell me.”

  “Did you say it’s almost ten o’clock?” Bennett pushed back from the table and stood too quickly. Her vision blurred and the room spun. She grabbed the arm of the chair for support. “Crap. I’ve got a meeting with Kerstin.”

  “Hold on.” Jazz guided her back toward her seat, but she pulled away.

  “I’m serious, Jazz. We had a disagreement during our last meeting and didn’t have a chance to talk before the accident. I can’t blow her off.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to do anything important until you’ve rested.”

  Bennett finished her coffee and started toward the door. “I appreciate your concern, sis, but this really can’t wait. Thanks for the coffee…and for being the voice of reason even if I don’t follow your advice.”

  “I figured you’d barrel through, so I’ve got you a clean uniform in my car.” She tossed a key to Bennett. “Leave it under the mat. I have a spare.”

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  Jazz stared at the floor, a sheepish look on her face. “I’ll be along.”

  “Interesting nurse on your radar, sis?”

  “Go, nosey.”

  “On the subject, I saw somebody last night I’d like to introduce you to, or I should say reintroduce you to,” Bennett said.

  “No thanks. I don’t need your help getting a date. Ever again.”

  Bennett raised her hands and backed away. “Have it your way, but I expect details.”

  Jazz laughed. “Not likely.”

  Ten minutes later, Bennett dropped Kerstin’s tote in her office chair on the way to the shower. She peeled her wrinkled uniform and undergarments off, dropped them on the floor, and stepped under the cold water. She gritted her teeth as the icy spray brought her fully awake, her first clear thought of Kerstin. She’d been really upset after their meeting yesterday, but Bennett couldn’t quite pin down the reason. They’d resolve things this morning.

  After an invigorating scrub and a rinse with hot water, Bennett toweled off and reached for her uniform. She unbuttoned the shirt, and a small plastic bag hung from the hanger. Jazz remembered everything. Bennett pulled on her boy-cut briefs and sports bra, feeling almost human again. As she reached for her trousers, the door burst open and Kerstin glared at her. The stare was as potent as her tender touch last night at the hospital. Bennett’s knees trembled.

  “Oh…the officer out front said you were…I didn’t realize you’d be…” She scanned Bennett’s body slowly, her gaze a lingering caress. “I’ll wait for you out—”

  “No need.” Bennett forced her voice to remain calm in spite of her quivering insides. “I can dress while you talk. Might as well get this over with.”

  “In…inappropriate,” Kerstin said.

  “Kerst, you’ve seen me practically naked before.”

  “Seventeen years ago…in gym class. You were nothing…like…this.” She waved toward Bennett. “I’ll wait in your office.” Before Bennett could respond, Kerstin was gone.

  Arousal dampened the inside of Bennett’s thighs, and she shivered. Heat tingled her skin and left her sticky. Kerstin’s words were clearly meant to distance, but she couldn’t hide the longing in her eyes. The desire was mutual, but what could she do? Jazz told her to be patient, let Kerstin take the lead. What if Kerstin continued to deny her feelings?

  Bennett finished dressing and walked toward her office, pausing outside the door to put on her game face. She hated pretense, but she’d have to ease into a conversation about feelings. Adjusting her utility belt, she stalled and prayed for divine
intervention. She stepped into her office, and Kerstin was rummaging through her bag, effectively avoiding eye contact.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “Thanks for bringing my bag. How is your officer?”

  “He’ll be fine. Thanks for asking.”

  “When did you leave the hospital?”

  “About ten minutes before you found me in the locker room.” They were both stalling.

  “Are you sure you want to do this now? You must be tired.”

  Kerstin’s words warmed her because she wanted Kerstin to be concerned about her. “I’m good, but thanks for asking.”

  “Who was the nurse you were talking to? Jen something? You seemed very friendly.”

  Kerstin’s tone held a hint of irritation, and Bennett caught a glimmer of something fiery in her eyes before she looked away. Bennett almost laughed, deciding to play it out. “A friend.”

  “A good friend, I’d say, by the way she clung to you.”

  “We went out a few times. She’s a good nurse and a—”

  “Stop.” Kerstin raised her hand. “Sorry. I don’t really have the right to ask about your personal or dating life.”

  “True, but you have my permission to ask anything you want.” She was jealous, and Bennett took great pleasure in the knowledge, which affirmed the next thing she needed to say.

  “Bennett, I—”

  “Kerstin, can—” They spoke at the same time. “You first.”

  “No, you, please.”

  Bennett motioned for her to sit and then pulled another chair closer. She tried to gauge Kerstin’s mood by the set of her jaw or the shade of her blue eyes, but nothing provided a clue. “We need to talk about the past, our feelings. They’re getting in the way of…of everything.”