by Shawn Wilson
“Yes. I’ve got her number and Eric’s.”
“Then let’s go with those rather than wasting time with a landline. We need to get him talking.”
Ron reached into his pocket and retrieved Brick’s phone. He handed it to Lieutenant Hughes.
“Here goes.” She took a deep breath. She used her forefinger to enter a number, then stopped. “Wait a minute.” She turned toward Brick. “He probably thinks you’re in the hospital or dead so hearing your voice might catch him off guard. Can you handle it?”
Brick thought about Lily and didn’t hesitate. “I can—with your help and Ron’s. Give me a thumbs-up or down so I’ll know how I’m doing.”
“All right, then.” Hughes passed the phone over to Brick. “Once you make contact, put your phone on speaker.”
Brick’s vision was still blurry. He could make out the green phone app but he needed Ron’s help to find Eric’s number on his contact list. Brick held the phone up to his ear and prayed Eric would answer. On the third ring, someone did.
Brick listened closely. In the background, he could hear the faint rumble of the refrigerator as it cycled on. He waited for a voice but there was no response. He couldn’t wait any longer.
“Eric, it’s Brick.” He put his phone on speaker and set it down.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eric broke into a high-pitched laugh that made the hair on the back of Brick’s neck stand on end. “Thought I finished the job, but I guess I was wrong.”
Brick exchanged eye contact with Lieutenant Hughes. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve got one mother of a headache.” It took everything he had to keep his voice calm.
Eric laughed again, but this time it didn’t sound as maniacal. “You’re not the only one.”
“You, too? We can get you some medication.”
“Not me, Lily. Wait a minute, what do you mean we. Where the fuck are you?”
“I’m right across the street in the Command Center van with Lieutenant Hughes from the Third District and my old partner, Ron. Go ahead, look out the window.”
“Sure, so a sniper can pick me off.”
“C’mon, Eric, you’ve been in law enforcement long enough to know that’s not how it works. Everybody here wants this to end peacefully.” Brick took a sip of water from a bottle Hughes handed to him.
“I’m in kind of deep. Don’t see how that can happen.”
“Step by step, Eric. Step by step.” Brick deliberately paused to give him a chance to think about the possibility of a solution. “First step, let Lily go.”
“No can do. But she’s okay.”
“You said she has a headache, probably a migraine. She tends to get those.”
“Guess you would know. Why’d you lie to me about her?”
Brick didn’t have to fake confusion. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yeah, you do. You made it sound like she was perfect.”
“We both know no one is perfect, but she’s pretty close.”
Another laugh from Eric, but unlike the last time, this was just a quick snorting sound. “The only way you could say that is if you don’t know about the scars.”
Eric’s comment rocked Brick to his core. At the moment, he didn’t know if Lily was alive or dead or if she had been raped, but knowing Eric had seen her scars infuriated him. It was an unforgiveable violation. Still, he knew he needed to get his emotions under control.
“Oh, the scars.” Brick felt his heart pounding in his chest. “I know about them, but that doesn’t change anything. Lily’s been through a lot, Eric. Not just today, but most of her life.” Brick glanced over at Lieutenant Hughes. She gave him a thumbs-up sign. “Do the right thing and let her go.” Brick waited for a response, and for a minute, feared the conversation might end. He didn’t want that to happen. “Eric?”
“She’s just like the others.” Brick heard an edginess building in Eric’s voice. It worried him. “Every one of them—they’re all the same.”
“Who, Eric? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb with me. You’re smart, Brick. Maybe too smart for your own good.”
“I don’t know about that. You had me fooled. After finding the taser, I thought Rory had killed Jose and Maria.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. I got to hand it to you, Eric, pretending to go out for a smoke, but using the time to slip into Eamonn’s office—that was very clever.”
“You really think so?”
“Absolutely. You just need to do the smart thing now—let Lily go.”
“Why? So she can go out and deceive someone else? It’s got to stop, Brick. I’m telling you, for them, it’s just a game, and they’ll keep playing and playing and playing.”
Lieutenant Hughes gave a hand signal Brick interpreted to mean “keep him talking.” He acknowledged with a nod but felt as though the walls of the Command Center were closing in on him.
“You mean the women who disappointed you?” The question got another thumbs-up from Hughes, but Brick was more interested in Eric’s reaction.
“Yeah, Einstein.” Eric’s voice rose a couple of decibels. “The ones that look so good, so perfect in their come-fuck-me photos, and then, in person, they’re tattooed or have a big ugly birthmark—”
Brick hunched over the table anticipating Eric would continue his tirade, but the next sound they all heard was a tremendous shattering of glass. Lieutenant Hughes grabbed her radio and leapt from her chair.
“GO … GO … GO …” she shouted into the radio as she flung open the door of the van. Ron trailed on her heels. As much as Brick wanted to follow, he knew he’d only be in the way. He sat there dripping in sweat and shivering. No longer able to fight off the exhaustion, he laid his throbbing head down on his hands and closed his eyes.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“BRICK?”
At the sound of Ron’s voice, Brick managed to open his eyes and raise his head. He didn’t know how much time had passed—minutes, maybe hours—he had no idea. And his confusion wasn’t limited to time. He looked around at his surroundings. It took a minute for him to realize he was still in the Command Center van. Slowly, he started to recall the events that had transpired prior to him passing out.
“It’s over, partner.” Ron pulled up a chair and sat down next to Brick.
“Lily … is Lily okay?”
“She’s on her way to the hospital.”
“Where are they taking her?”
“Georgetown.”
“But is she going to be okay?”
“I’m not sure. Uh …” Ron cleared his throat before continuing. “The paramedics think she may have suffered a stroke.”
“A stroke? That doesn’t even make sense.” Brick rubbed the back of his neck. “What about Eric?”
“He’s dead. Apparently, after he smashed the table, he stabbed himself in the throat with a piece of glass. From all the blood, looks like he hit his carotid artery.”
“Jesus Christ.” Brick tried to stand up but his legs wouldn’t support him. “Nothing makes sense or maybe everything makes sense.” He slumped back into his chair. “At this point, I just don’t know.”
Ron put his hand on Brick’s shoulder. “It’s okay, man; we’ve got time to sort it out. But for now, there’s another ambulance waiting outside to take you back to the hospital.”
“I don’t need a hospital. I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.” A reassuring smile crossed Ron’s lips. “And besides, you got to return those scrubs I stole.”
Brick knew Ron was right. He wasn’t okay, far from it. He wanted to thank his former partner, but words stuck in his throat as tears ran down his face. He reached up and squeezed the hand resting on his shoulder.
Ron would get the message. Of that, Brick was sure.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Two Weeks Later
“I FIGURED I might find you here, just didn’t think it would be on that s
ide of the bar.”
As far back as Brick could recall, he had never seen Travis Allen here in Boland’s. It wasn’t the kind of pickup bar he bragged about frequenting. “It’s temporary. Rory needed to pick up Eamonn at BWI, and the regular bartender is stuck in traffic on the Beltway. He’ll take over as soon as he gets here.”
No good deed goes unpunished, Brick thought as he watched Allen climb onto a barstool. Of all the ones that were vacant, he took the barstool Brick usually occupied. He already felt as though Allen was trespassing just by walking in the door; this made it worse. Brick stepped over to the beer taps, anticipating Allen’s order, but Travis shook his head.
“I’ll have a club soda.”
Brick figured Allen must still be working. He filled a glass with ice and soda and set it on a coaster in front of him. “Thought you were off-duty.”
“I am … and I’m on the wagon.” Allen raised the glass and took a drink. “Look, I owe you an apology. That whole thing that happened at the FOP, I was out of line and it wasn’t the first time. It’d be easy to say I was celebrating and drank too much, but the truth is I’ve lost control when it comes to alcohol. Didn’t think I’d ever do it, but I started going to AA. In fact, I’m headed to a meeting when I leave here.”
Brick was taken aback and unsure what to say. “Well, thanks.” That seemed like a reasonable way to start. He thought for a moment. “I’m not going to pretend I ever liked working with you because we both know differently and as far as the Delgado case—there’s plenty of blame to go around, but I appreciate you apologizing. And I wish you well on staying sober. It’s good you realized it and decided to do something before you hit bottom like a lot of guys.”
Allen shifted his weight and leaned his elbows on the bar. “Actually, as attorneys often say, in the interest of full disclosure, I did hit bottom. Karen took the boys and left.”
Brick had to give the devil his due. He knew Allen loved his sons. He might not have been a great husband, but he at least made an effort to be a good father. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
Allen sighed. “Well, it’s not as bad as it was. She gave me a choice—get and stay sober, stop the womanizing—yeah, she knew about that, too—or get a divorce lawyer ’cause that’s what she was going to do. I know she’d get custody of the boys. And I’d be lost without my kids.” Allen took another drink. “But it’s more than that; it’s like that old saying about not knowing what you’ve got till it’s gone. That’s kind of how I feel about Karen. I’m lucky she’s giving me a second chance.”
Once again, Brick was at a loss for words. He noticed Allen’s glass was empty. “Want a refill?” Brick asked.
Allen shook his head. “No, I need to get going.” He stood up and reached in his pocket. He pulled out a couple of ones and was about to leave them on the bar. Brick waived him off.
“I think you have a future as a designated driver so get used to free drinks, goes with the territory.”
“Thanks.” Allen shook hands with Brick before heading to the door. He walked out without looking back.
Don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. Those words resonated with Brick, but right now, it was too painful to think about. Instead he thought about Allen. Was it possible for an asshole like him to clean up his act? Maybe. Was it possible for Roberto Morales to stop abusing his wife? Maybe. One thing those two had in common was alcohol, and if they both managed to stay clean and sober, they might start acting like decent human beings. Brick wouldn’t bet the rent on either being successful, but in both cases, for the sake of the women who loved them for whatever reason and their kids, he hoped the guys would beat the odds. And he had to admit, it took balls for Allen to do what he did just then, not knowing what kind of reaction he would receive. Maybe at one of his AA meetings they talked about making amends and that may have been his motivation. Still, it’s a lot easier to talk the talk than to actually carry through. At least for today, Travis Allen had earned his respect.
Brick was refilling the ice bin when he heard a knock at the back door. He glanced up at the clock on his way down the hall. He hoped it was Patrick, ready to start his shift, but Brick was in for another surprise. He looked out the peephole before opening the door. On the other side was Eamonn. Beside him, Rory stood with his arm around Kelly. Brick quickly unlocked the door and let them in.
Eamonn looked tired and a little thinner, but he also looked relaxed. He smiled when he saw Brick. “It’s good to be home. How are you, lad?”
It was such a simple question, but coming from Eamonn, it brought a lump to Brick’s throat. He swallowed hard. “I’ve been better.”
Eamonn nodded. “I know. We’ll talk soon. For now, I need to lay this tired old body down.”
Kelly stepped around Rory and took Eamonn by the arm. “C’mon, Elvis is upstairs waiting to see you.”
“I’ll take his bag upstairs and be right back,” Rory said.
Brick went back to the bar and poured himself an orange juice while he waited for Rory. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Definite advantage to living over the bar—you don’t get stuck on the Beltway.”
“Just another day in paradise.” Brick reached under the bar for a bag he had left. “If my services are no longer needed …”
“Hey, thanks a lot for bailing me out. I didn’t want Eamonn to take a cab from the airport. Gotta tell you, I’m so relieved to see he’s doing okay. Tired, but that’s normal. Kelly’s fixing him some soup, then I expect he’ll sleep for a while. Feckin’ jet lag, always takes me a couple of days to recover.”
Brick nodded. “Speaking of recovering—what’s up with you and Kelly?”
“We’re doing okay.”
“Good to hear. She’s a sweet girl.”
“Yeah, she is.” The freckles on Rory’s face faded temporarily as he blushed, turning his cheeks a deep shade of red. “But she’s also tough. Let’s just say, I’m on a very short leash.”
Brick laughed. “Leash or laptop. Remember what I said, Rory, it’s all about choices.”
* * *
If Brick had ever been on this tree-lined street of single-family houses in Northeast D.C. before, he didn’t remember. The homes were modest but well kept. He didn’t need to check the address; he knew he was at the right place by the double-stroller parked on the screened-in porch. He rang the doorbell and waited. A minute or so later, Jasmine opened the door. Brick handed her a bouquet of spring flowers and a small gift bag.
“They’re lovely, thanks so much.” Jasmine stepped aside. “Come on in. Ron’s out back getting the grill ready, and the twins are asleep. Enjoy the quiet, it won’t last.” Jasmine set the flowers down on a table in the hallway. “Can I look in the bag?”
“Of course.”
Jasmine reached into the bag, and Brick heard the rustle of tissue paper. “They’re so cute!” She held up two infant bodysuits—one blue, the other red. On both were the words “Washington Nationals” separated by their trademark curly W. “These kids better be sports fans or Ron will be convinced we brought home the wrong babies.”
“Maybe by the time they go to their first football game, there will be a new stadium in the District.”
“Oh, please don’t get him started on that.” Jasmine picked up the bouquet of flowers. “I need to put these in water. There’s beer and soda in the fridge. Grab yourself something to drink and go check on the Iron Chef.”
Brick hadn’t taken any pain medication in a couple of days but still passed on a beer. He picked up a can of Coke Zero and headed outside.
“Good timing, my man. Think the coals are ready. Hope you’re hungry.”
“I am.”
“How do you like your steak?”
“Medium rare.”
“That can be arranged.” Ron threw a couple of large steaks on the grill and stood back. The meat sizzled as it hit the hot grill. “Shouldn’t take too long. How are you doing?”
“So, so.” Brick was relieved to be ta
lking to Ron. “Physically, pretty good but still some trouble sleeping.”
“Par for the course. I tell Jasmine, it’s okay, I’ll get up when the babies cry, but the truth is, I’m usually awake before them anyway. It’s going to take time, man, for both of us.”
“You’re right.” Brick pulled back the tab on his can of soda and took a drink. “You’ll never guess who I talked to this morning … Travis Allen.”
Ron almost dropped the bottle of beer he was holding. “No way. What, did he call you?”
“No.” Brick explained the unexpected encounter. “And it’s like I told him, as far as the Delgado case, there’s enough blame to go around. I’m sure he’ll share that with Blancato, which is what I intended.”
“Do you think Blancato feels responsible?”
“No. but it doesn’t matter. Enough people know his role in the clusterfuck.”
“That’s for sure. I don’t think there will be another joint task force with ICE anytime soon.” Ron used a fork to lift a corner of one steak. “Looking good. Have you talked to Kyle Thibodeaux?”
“He called once to see how I was doing, but that was it. Why?”
“Seems that big investigation he’s working on has to do with abuse of power by several ICE agents.”
Brick almost choked on a mouthful of soda. “Really?”
“All those files and crap in his office—he’s had to go through every case in which ICE was involved since 2003.”
“Wow. That explains a lot.”
“Yeah, I ran into him on his way to the grand jury, and as he put it, Eric Monroe may be just the tip of the—”
“Let me guess, ICE-berg.” Brick shook his head. “That sounds exactly like something Thibodeaux would say.”
“He also said, stay tuned ’cause heads are going to roll.” Ron checked the steak again. This time he flipped it then turned back in Brick’s direction. “I’m sorry I couldn’t attend Lily’s memorial service, but that was the same day Jasmine came home from the hospital.”
“I understand.”
“How’d it go?”
