Chapter 2

After starting violently at the ringing of the bedside phone, blinking slowly brought the red numbers of the clock-radio into focus: 1:10 a.m.

Her arm ran over the empty spot in the bed beside her.

"Hello?" she said, cautiously.

"Sandy?"

Her tension eased slightly. "Barb, is that you?"

"Yes, it's me."

Her eyes recoiled as she turned on her bedside light and sat up. "I'm sorry, Barb. When the phone rings at night while Ron's working, I just..."

"I know," Barb interrupted her. "Something's happened."

Her hand floated unbidden to her mouth. "What is it?"

"I don't know if Ron told you ... he recruited Raul to help with a sting operation at the garage."

"He what? No, he didn't tell me that."

In the awkward silence that followed, Sandy could hear sobbing in the background.

"It was tonight ... something went wrong."

"Oh my god, is Raul all right?"

"He was shot." Barbara did her best to keep her voice steady. "He's in the hospital in critical condition."

"Oh, Barbara, I'm so sorry..."

"Sandy."

Her grip tightened on the phone. When Barbara couldn't bring herself to speak, she finally prompted her. "Ron?"

"I'm sorry, Sandy. Ron was shot, too; he's gone."

In Sandy's stunned silence, she could still hear what could only be Sammy's weeping. She looked dazedly around the room.

Her eyes fell on one of Ron's ties, looped over the back of a chair. She liked to tease him about how he hated to wear them. 'Part of the job, ' he always grumbled as he knotted them around his thick neck.

Her gaze drifted to the closet, where one of his sport coats hung. She got up and walked to it, slung her arm around it and pressed her face into the fabric, taking in her man's scent. She pulled it off the hanger, clutched it to her chest, and sank to the floor. Her sniffing deepened, becoming sobs of pain.

Barb listened to her friend grieve. Eventually she said, "Pete Riordan was there." When there was no response she added, "He's okay."

Sandy's emotions surged back and forth. "He's alive and Ron is dead?" she said bitterly.

"I convinced him to let me be the one to call you, after he gave us the news. And he told us where Bobby is."

"Wait, Bobby was there? Is he all right?"

"Yes. Pete said that Bobby might have saved his life. He..."

Barb's voiced cracked, her iron grip on her emotions threatening to break.

"Pete said right as he fired at the last guy, the one that shot Raul, Bobby kicked him ... in the head. Pete said if he hadn't already fired, Bobby's kick probably would have killed the man. But he also told me the kick to the head probably prevented the guy from returning fire." Sandy could hear the pain in her friend's voice. "Pete says Bobby most likely saved his life."

"Oh God, no," Sandy moaned. "How's Bobby handling it?"

"I'm sure it was horrible. Look, Sammy and I are getting ready to go to the hospital. Um, Pete said that's where they took Ron, too. But he said you shouldn't try to see him, Sandy."

Sandy struggled to pull herself together. There were things to do. "Okay; I'll meet you there. How bad is Raul?"

"We don't know much more than he was shot in the back and is in critical condition. But Marines are pretty tough. Do you think you can drive safely?"

"I don't know. I'm pretty ... pretty shook up."

"We'll come get you on our way."

"Where's Bobby?"

"He's at the police station downtown, giving his statement, answering questions."

"Is he in trouble?"

"No. Everyone on the force is upset about ... Ron ... but Pete let them know how Bobby tried to protect him. He's not in trouble, he's a hero. Anyway, Pete will bring him to the hospital when he's done there. I trust Pete."

Sandy snorted. "It's pretty ironic given Pete's history with Bobby, that Bobby turns around and saves Pete's life."

There was a long silence. "We should get to your place in about fifteen minutes," Barb said at last.

"What about you, are you okay to drive?"

"I won't have to - Raul's cousin John is here, he'll take us. I'm so sorry, Sandy."

"And I'm ... I'm sorry about Raul, Barb. He's special to me, too."

"I know he is ... I'm crying on the inside. But I can't let it take over. I've been through this before when I lost John. Right now I have to be strong for my kids. It's not just Bobby this time. I've got Sammy and Gina to take care of now too," she said tiredly.

"But right now I need to go see Raul. Then I'll comfort my son. Then I'll move on to do the next thing I need to do, and then the next, whatever it is."

Al Skelly's shaking hand rose three times before he finally rapped his knuckles on the suite's door. Getting no response he kept knocking, each time louder than the last.

A shamelessly naked girl finally answered; to his eyes she might have been eighteen. Her disheveled bottle-blond hair framed eyes dilated into huge black dots, and her absurdly enhanced breasts bore the marks of recent rough sex. Low on her belly was a tattoo of a cat's face.