The City PI and the Country Cop
Page 10
“And to thank him,” Keir added.
“That, too.”
Following the directions from a woman at the nurses’ station, they made their way to Hoyt’s room. Teague opened the door slowly and peered into the room, afraid he’d awaken Hoyt if he was sleeping. Hoyt wasn’t, and when he saw Teague he smiled in obvious relief.
“Finally, someone who isn’t wearing scrubs. Well, don’t just stand there. Come in. Come in. I’m dying for human companionship.”
Teague chuckled, crossing to the bed with Keir trailing behind him. “How many drugs do they have you on? You’re way too cheerful for a man with tubes and IVs and enough bandages to make you look like, well as Chief Davis put it, half mummy.”
“Let’s just say I’m feeling no pain,” Hoyt replied, his smile dimming. “How are you doing? The last thing I really remember is that bastard shooting you and trying to strangle Keir.”
“Minor flesh wound is all.”
“And I’m fine now,” Keir put in. “Sore neck but that’s about the size of it.”
Hoyt looked Keir over with a nod before returning his gaze to Teague. “The chief said Will’s somewhere in the hospital, too. Wish I’d killed the damned bastard!”
“He is, and his name’s not Will. It’s Bradley Irwin.”
“Oh, right. Davis told me that when he came by earlier. I was still pretty groggy since they’d just given me my meds. I’m more with it now, so sit and fill me in.”
After pulling up a chair, Teague told Hoyt what they now knew about Irwin. He ended by saying, “Unfortunately, unless Detective Slater is able to find out something about the pastor to prove otherwise, we’ll probably never know for certain if he was the original killer, unless Irwin opens up about it.”
“I suspect that’s highly unlikely,” Hoyt said.
“If it was the pastor, why did he stop after only three murders? From what I know about serial killers, killing is a compulsion that usually intensifies the more they do it.”
“Something else we won’t know unless Irwin’s willing to talk,” Hoyt pointed out. “He certainly had no problems with killing more than once while he was here, unlike the original killer who moved around.”
“And why did the first killer do that?” Keir asked, finally joining the conversation. “Why travel…? Okay, strike that. Probably because he didn’t want to soil his own nest, so to speak.”
Teague nodded, smiling dryly. “I should be writing down all our questions so we remember to ask Irwin if we get a chance.”
“Then you’re sticking around until he’s able to be interrogated?” Hoyt asked, his gaze locked on Teague.
“I…haven’t decided.” If his expression is any indication about why he wants to know, am I willing to deal with it? I wasn’t lying to Keir when I said Hoyt and I are…opposites in so many ways. But I like him. More than I should considering the circumstances. If I stay until after we question Irwin, and things continue to develop with Hoyt the way I think they might, then what? We both get hurt when I go back home.
“When will you decide?” Hoyt asked, breaking into Teague’s thoughts.
“I suppose when I find out how long it’ll be before Irwin’s in any shape to talk. Presuming he does, which is unlikely.”
“The chief said he’s undergoing a second surgery today,” Keir said. “So we should know soon enough when he’ll be awake and aware.”
“I know,” Teague replied, more sharply than he’d intended to.
“Sorry.” Keir stared at Teague for a second. “I’m going to get some coffee. I saw a machine down the hall. Do you want some?”
“No thanks.”
“Okay. I’ll be back in a while.” Turning on his heel, Keir left, closing the door behind him.
“What was that all about?” Hoyt asked.
Teague sighed. “I think he thinks we need some time alone.”
“I see.” Hoyt studied Teague. “To talk about us? If there is an ‘us’.” When Teague nodded, Hoyt said, “Is there?”
“We seemed to be moving in that direction.”
“Past tense,” Hoyt murmured. “Before you say anything more, I will tell you that I like you. Present tense.” He smiled slightly. “I want to get to really know you, now that all of this is over and we have time to be more than two men trying to stop a killer. Yeah, we’ve opened up some but…” He tried to reach for Teague, only to be stopped by the tug of the IV attached to the back of his hand. “Damn it,” he growled.
Teague took Hoyt’s hand, holding it carefully. “I want to get to know you, too,” Teague admitted. “If things were different, we might find out we could make a go of being more than just friends. I think that’s what we both are hoping. But…”
Hoyt looked down at their clasped hands, then back up at Teague, saying wistfully, “Could we at least try?”
Against his better judgment, Teague nodded. “I can stick around for a few more days, whether I get to talk to Irwin or not.” He gently squeezed Hoyt’s hand, chuckling softly. “What happened to the grouchy cop I met only a few days ago who would have given his left nut to get me out of town and out of his hair?”
“Oh, he’s still in here somewhere,” Hoyt retorted with a slow grin. “He’s just in hiding because now he doesn’t want to scare you away.”
“It hasn’t happened yet, so I doubt it will.” For a second, Teague was tempted to kiss Hoyt, but knew it wouldn’t be the best idea he’d ever had. After all, they were nowhere near that level of intimacy yet, and might never get there. Instead he asked, “Do you know when they’re going to release you?”
“The doc said something about tomorrow, barring complications. Then I get to recuperate at home, start physical therapy…” Hoyt frowned deeply. “And pray that I can get full use my arm again. I’m worthless if I can’t.”
Teague shook his head. “Not true.”
“Yeah it is. I’m a cop. That’s all I ever wanted to be. If I’m handicapped that goes by the boards.”
“You’re a detective,” Teague replied. “Half—no, most of being one is up here.” He tapped Hoyt’s forehead. “Besides, if you don’t regain full use of your arm, you’ll learn to compensate.”
“I’m fucking right-handed.”
“So you train yourself to use your left hand. Other people have. Don’t go giving up on yourself. You’re worth more than that.”
“I…” Hoyt nodded. “If you have faith in me, I guess I should, too.”
“You better believe it!” Teague heard the door open and turned to see who was there, expecting it to be Keir. Instead it was a nurse.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but it’s time for you to take your medicines, Mr. Newman, and the doctor will be here in a few minutes to examine you.”
“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Teague said, getting up. “I’ll be back later, I promise.”
“I sure hope so. As nice as Miss…” Hoyt glanced at the nurse’s name tag. “As nice as I’m sure Miss Johnson is, I much prefer your company.”
“That’s good to know,” Teague replied with a smile. “Behave, take your meds like a good boy and maybe, with luck, they’ll spring you tomorrow.”
“I plan on it happening. Trust me on that.”
Teague grinned at him and left the room. Keir was in the hallway, leaning against the wall while sipping his coffee.
“This stuff…” Keir shuddered, joining Teague as he walked toward the elevator. “So, did the two of you work something out?”
Teague cocked an eyebrow. “Such as?”
“Are you sticking around for at least a while?”
“A few days anyway. You, on the other hand, have to go home. I can’t in good conscience keep you away from your job, as much as I like your company. The agency needs you back there.”
“Not what you said a while ago. But I get the message.” Keir smirked. “You’ll be spending all your time with Hoyt.”
“While I’m here, I suspect so.”
Keir turn
ed serious. “You are going to try to figure out how to make things work.”
“I’m not certain it’s possible, but yes, I’ll try. Besides,” Teague shrugged, “we might find out we’re not as interested in each other as we think, now that the stress of capturing Irwin is past.”
“But you might find out you are.”
“True, we might.” And therein lies the problem. With a shake of his head, Teague pushed the elevator button. Seconds later it appeared and he and Keir rode down in silence.
Three hours later, Keir had rented another car to get to the airport. As Teague watched him drive away, he wondered if he shouldn’t be going with him. It would hurt, walking away from Hoyt without even saying goodbye. But in the long run it might be the best thing I could do for both of us. In his mind, he knew that was exactly what he should do. His heart firmly disagreed. When did I let my emotions start ruling my life? He knew the answer to that question. First when I decided I had to find a conclusion to Chris’s story. And then when I realized that Hoyt was more than just a stepping stone to doing that. He chuckled softly. I wonder if straight people have the same problems when it comes to…being attracted to someone. He knew the answer to that as well. Of course they do. It’s a human condition no matter how you look at it.
* * * *
Chapter 11
Teague checked in with Captain Davis the first thing Saturday morning to find out Bradley Irwin’s condition.
“He made it through the second surgery but, according to the doctor I spoke with, he’ll be in intensive care for at least the next two days before they can move him to a private room. In both cases, he’ll be secured to the bed, and under constant surveillance by one or two of my men.”
“That’s good to know, although I doubt he’ll be in any condition to try to escape for a while at least.”
“True, but we’re not taking any chances.”
An hour later, just as he was about to leave for the hospital to visit Hoyt, Teague got a call from Detective Slater.
“I’ve already let Chief Davis know I’m on my way to Faircrest. I have information on Pastor Corwin Irwin that I thought I should tell both of you in person. I’ll be arriving at the county airport at twelve-fifteen. The chief is sending an officer to pick me up.”
“Thanks for the heads-up. Let me know when you’re here and I’ll meet you at his office.”
With that, Teague took off for the hospital. When he got to Hoyt’s room, he found the detective had graduated from lying prone to sitting up. He was wearing what at first glance looked like a piece of medieval armor, only blue. It covered Hoyt’s shoulder, ran across his chest, and incorporated a sling for his arm.
“That’s definitely an interesting look,” Teague commented.
“I’d go more for strange, but it works. They’ve already had me up and walking while wearing it. This—” he tapped the part that acted as a sling, “—opens so I can move my lower arm. Thank goodness.”
“How long do you have to wear it?”
“Full-time for the next day or two. Then I start taking it off for an hour, give or take. The PT will be more specific about that once I start working with her. The doc says it will probably take around four months for total recovery, if I behave and work with the therapist.”
“Then that’s what you’re going to do,” Teague said sternly.
“Yes, boss.” Hoyt rolled his eyes. “I know. I plan on it. I want to get back to work as soon as possible.”
“At least, from the sound of it, you won’t lose mobility in your shoulder.”
“Significant mobility is how he termed it. I just have to take it easy, follow the therapist’s orders and…” Hoyt grimaced. “Pray a lot, I guess.”
“Most of all,” Teague said, taking Hoyt’s free hand, “you have to believe you will get back to normal.”
“I’m trying to, Teague. But right now it’s hard. I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You’re hardly old. Hell, you’re younger than me.”
“By what? Two or three years?”
“Three. So,” Teague winked at him, “you’re in your prime.”
“If you say so.” Hoyt finally smiled. “If I am, at forty-two, does that mean you’re already over the hill at forty-five?”
“Excuse me?” Teague pressed a hand to his chest. “You wound me deeply.” He was happy when Hoyt laughed, hoping it meant he’d brought the detective out the funk he’d been in. “Now the big question. When are they kicking you out of here?”
“With luck, after the doctor comes by to check this one more time.” Holt tapped his injured shoulder. “That should be early this afternoon.”
“Good. I’ll come back after my meeting with Detective Slater and the chief to give you a ride home.”
Hoyt’s eyes narrowed. “What meeting?”
“Slater called. He has information about Pastor Irwin. He’s flying in to tell us personally and should be at the police department around one, if his flight’s on time.”
“I’m going to be there, too, damn it.” Hoyt shifted to press the call-button for the nurse. When she arrived a minute later he said, “Where did they put my clothes? I’m leaving.”
“You can’t. Not until the doctor releases you.”
“Bet me,” Hoyt growled. “Where’s my stuff.” When his glance lit on a closet at the side of the room, he started to ease his legs off the bed.
Teague shook his head, putting his hand on Hoyt’s shoulder. “First off, I doubt they saved your shirt and jacket, considering they were blood soaked. Maybe your jeans and shoes survived.”
“That’s better than nothing.” Hoyt eyed Teague. “I’ll wear your jacket.”
By then the nurse had apparently alerted the main desk because a doctor appeared in the doorway. “Trying to run out on us, Hoyt?”
“Yeah. Kick me lose, doc. I have to go with him.” Hoyt stabbed a finger toward Teague.
The doctor sighed, looking toward the ceiling. “Why me? Why do I always get the difficult ones?” Coming to the bed, he said, “I’ll examine you and we’ll go from there.”
“Go is right. As soon as you’re finished, I’m going.”
“Not if I say otherwise, Hoyt.”
Teague decided things might go a bit easier if he left the room, which he did, closing the door behind him. Crossing the hall, he leaned against the wall, waiting for the doctor to make a decision. Not that Hoyt will listen if the doc tells him he can’t go home yet. He’ll sign himself out and leave in just his jeans and shoes, knowing him. Stubborn man. Teague smiled. One of the reasons I like him. He rarely takes shit from anyone as far as I can tell.
The door opened a few minutes later and the doctor beckoned to Teague. When Teague went back into the room, the first thing he noted was that Hoyt was smiling as if he’d won a victory.
According to the doctor, it was just that. “I’m releasing him, against my better judgment. He could do with another night here but…”
“But he’d leave the second you walk out the door so why force it,” Teague said with a small grin.
“Exactly. Nurse Johnson, please get Mr. Hoyt’s clothes and possessions while I fill out the paperwork and set it up for a night-nurse for him.”
“I don’t need some babysitter,” Hoyt growled.
“You do until you learn how to take care of things like dressing, cooking, and the other necessities by yourself without re-injuring your shoulder.”
The nurse went a long way toward proving the doctor’s words after handing Hoyt what remained of his clothes: a pair of jeans with a few bloodstains, shoes, and socks. With the nurse’s help, Hoyt got them on before looking at Teague. “Can I borrow your jacket? Please?”
Teague nodded, giving it to the nurse while wondering how Hoyt could wear it over the shoulder support. Hoyt’s free arm went into one sleeve, then the nurse pulled the jacket around, telling Hoyt, “You can’t put the rest of it on, obviously. I suggest for the near future you wear zip-up sweatshirts. They’ll
accommodate the brace and I’ll give you a separate sling to keep your arm at the correct angle. Put it on over your immobilized arm first.” She laughed when Hoyt said, “Well, duh.”
By the time Hoyt was ready to leave, the doctor returned with the paperwork. Then it was just a case of using a wheelchair to get Hoyt out of the hospital to Teague’s Crosstrek.
“Now to figure out how to make the seatbelt work,” Teague said once Hoyt was settled in the front seat.
Hoyt solved that problem by saying, “I won’t use it. We’re going ten blocks. If you can’t make it there without having an accident, you need your license revoked.”
With a shake of his head, Teague started the car and five minutes later he parked it in the lot behind the police department.
* * * *
“Good afternoon, Teague,” Chief Davis said before apparently realizing Teague wasn’t alone. “What are you doing here?” he asked Hoyt, worry shading his words and his expression.
“I work here?” Hoyt replied with a brief smile. He walked slowly to the nearest chair and sat with obvious relief.
“Why aren’t you at the hospital, or home in bed, or…something?”
“Because Teague told me Detective Slater was here and had information about Pastor Irwin.” Hoyt looked at the fourth man in the office. “That would be you, I presume. I’m Detective Hoyt Newman.”
“I figured as much,” Slater replied with chuckle. “It’s nice to meet you face-to-face. Although from the look of you, I agree with the chief. You should be home in bed.” He smiled at Teague, saying, “Good to see you again.”
“You as well,” Teague replied, taking the last remaining chair. “And before you yell at me, Chief, my letting Hoyt know was inadvertent. However, he has been involved with this since Bradley Irwin made his first kill, so he has a right to hear what Slater is going to tell us.”
“Of course he does,” the chief said, “but one of us could have relayed the information to him later.” The chief shook his head in resignation. “I guess what’s done is done. Please begin, Detective Slater.”
Slater nodded. “I’ll preface this by saying that Pastor Irwin was a good man with a dark secret not of his own making. One he kept close to his heart until the day he died. It would be another year before it was revealed to anyone other than his wife. Even then only to two people would know what it was.”