Crime & Counterpoint (35 page)

Shelley sat with her head in her hands in one seat of four lined up along the hall. Fortunately, the emergency ward was largely empty. Not that it concerned her whether anyone saw her tear-stained face, or noted the fact that she had maroon staining her cream white gown.

She didn’t want to be sitting here in the sterile white waiting area. But she simply couldn’t be in surgery with him. If he died, how would she ever forgive herself?

The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow.

Then, from around the corner, she picked out a familiar voice amongst the normal hospital drone.
Daddy!
She jumped to her feet and hurried down the corridor towards the sound. She walked smack into her father, still dressed immaculately for the ruined wedding, as he rounded the bend.

“Oh, thank God!” He gathered her in his arms and she burst into sobs against his Giorgio Armani wool coat. His eyes closed in relief that his child was safe and alive. “I was so worried.”

Carter and her brothers came all at once, an armada of law professionals thudding down the hall, but none of them separated father and daughter.

Shelley started weeping in the safe harbor of Henri’s embrace. He held her, whispering soothing words of comfort for her while Carter and his sons looked on in silence.

Finally, she lifted her head and gave her pained confession. “I killed him, Daddy.”

Confused, Henri frowned. “Who? Zach?”

“No, the Russian.” She clutched his coat’s lapels, knuckles whitening. She whispered hoarsely, “I shot him.”

Henri couldn’t believe it. Shelley’s brothers glanced at each other in astonishment.

Erik was the first to speak. “You?!” he blurted. “What the hell–”

James practically backhanded him. “Shut it, Erik.”

The blood had drained from Carter’s face, leaving him pale. “I don’t understand.”

Ben said quietly, his usual laissez-faire, life-on-a-platter demeanor gone, “There’s gotta be an explanation.”

“Was it self-defense?” Cole asked in an undertone. “What if she–”

Henri had no response for them and simply held on to her tighter, afraid to let her go, as if she couldn’t possibly be safe with anyone now except him. He stopped Shelley in the middle of a string of wet apologies. “You can’t blame yourself. This isn’t your fault.”

Something altered in her gaze. “He was willing to die for me!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart,” he protested. “He was serving his own purposes.”

She withdrew from her father though she didn’t physically move. “You mean because of your
deal
?” She released his coat and stepped back.

Henri held his arms out to her, but she kept backing away. “Sweetheart, please.”

“No! If you had just let me be with him, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“Kazanov would’ve killed him. You would’ve been left grieving.”

“I don’t care!”

Fear slipping between the cracks of his usual imperviousness, he cornered his daughter against a row of benches. “Stop it. You’re making a fool of yourself for a man who doesn’t love you back.”

“He does! And I want to die with him,” she exclaimed, sounding hysterical.

Her words carried well through the halls, heard by hospital staff who passed by and tried to pretend that they hadn’t. But certainly Carter couldn’t ignore the passion with which she spoke, and the earnestness in her voice cut him deeply.

“You don’t mean that,” Henri countered. “I forbid you to waste your life on him. I told you he would only bring you pain, and see I was r–”

“STOP IT!” she screamed, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her ears with her hands – an almost childish action except for the agony etched all over her face, made even worse by the welt on her cheek.

Her vehemence shocked Henri into letting go.

She bowed her head nearly to her chest and wept in such a way as to chill the bones of every male present. And for once, Henri didn’t know what to do.

James’ countenance bore indignation. With barely a glance at Carter who made no move to do anything, he strode over. “Dad,” he said quietly, indicating for his father to move aside, “let me.”

Henri’s eyes filled with pain. He’d ruined something very precious – trampled it into the hard ground. He could feel her slipping through his fingers. She wasn’t his little girl anymore. Broken, he trudged away, defeated. He didn’t even acknowledge Carter or his other offspring as he retreated back down the corridor towards the exit.

James rubbed Shelley’s back, gathering her to himself. “It’s gonna be okay.” For her ears only, he whispered, “I’m proud of you.” His statement caused her to choke on another sob, but it brought her arms around him.

One by one, the rest of her brothers came and gathered around her. Erik hugged whatever was left of her, kissing the back of her head while Ben and Clint completed the circle. Only Carter stood outside, feeling guilty because he felt no inclination to comfort her. The woman he’d almost married today had killed a man for the sake of his best friend.

And the sickening, painful epiphany blindsided him: Shelley Janine Mitchel was not the girl for him.

Several minutes passed before the doors opened and out stepped a surgeon in a green smock. “Shelley Mitchel?”

Shelley turned from her band of brothers at the sound of the thickly accented voice. “Yes?”

“I’m Doctor Ramesh,” he introduced. He eyed her white dress but concern didn’t enter his eyes. “Detective Ericson is out of surgery. But we almost lost him. And I’m afraid I cannot give you much by the way of good news.”

She drew a sharp breath. James put his hand at her back for support.

“It’s my understanding this is the second time a bullet impacted him in his chest in the last month or so.”

She nodded mutely.

“I don’t think I have to say how extraordinary it is that he’s even alive right now.” He surveyed her white dress again. “Were you marrying him?”

Erik stepped forward and took the reins. “Just tell us when he can get outta here,” he replied like he’d already decided Zach would be fine.

Dr. Ramesh glanced from hard face to hard face of the suited young men who looked like they came from the same gene pool as the tear-stained bride. “I’m afraid that’s not anything I can determine right now. He had extremely low blood pressure by the time he got here, which caused him to experience cerebral hypoxia. Unfortunately, that coupled with the fact he had to be revived…” He let the sentence hang.

Erik frowned. “Just give us the bottom line, please.”

“He’s in a coma. Not a very stable one either.”

Shelley put her hand to her mouth in disbelief.

Carter, paling at the news, asked, “Is he going to be okay?”

The doctor did his best to appear sympathetic. “I wish I could be more reassuring, but it’s hard to say at this point. We can’t know the extent of the damage to his brain without an MRI.” Seeing Erik give him a look, Dr. Ramesh went on to offer some substance-less consolation, “He seems like a very strong man. Taking a bullet at such close range to the chest” – he shook his head and gave a flourish of his hand – “would have finished most anyone.”

Shelley smiled through the tears and nodded her agreement.

“If he gets through the night without incident and
if
he comes out of this coma in a reasonable amount of time, I’m inclined to believe he has a chance of resuming normal functionality. But again, it’s a miracle he’s still alive.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Shelley said, finally able to find her voice.

Dr. Ramesh smiled kindly. “Of course. If he does have any family or close relatives, I suggest contacting them now.”

“Can I see him?”

“Uh…” He looked at his watch. “They’re getting him settled now. I’ll have the nurse come and get you when they’ve finished. If you’ll just wait here. Okay?”

“Thank you.”

Carter remained sullen even after the doctor left. He didn’t know what to do for the moment. Sitting around and waiting was not his style, but having a heart-to-heart with Shelley was as appetizing as a four-course steak dinner right now. But many new arrivals grabbed his attention, saving him from having to think too deeply.

Jared and Carrie showed up then with what looked like a small legion: Abigail, Melissa, Brad, their kids, Ashleigh, Bill, Barbara, and Carol.

Rushing to her daughter, Carol hugged Shelley like a mother bear. “Are you alright,
mi hija
?” And the gushing continued until Shelley felt positively smothered. But she held onto her mother, relieved that Carol said nothing about her ruined dress. Or the canceled wedding.

Bill, gravely concerned, got the summary from James and Carter while Barbara stood with Carol fussing over the crushed, dispirited bride. Melissa, Ashleigh, and Carrie hovered around Abigail who shed grieved tears for her beloved grandson. Jared kissed Carrie and said he was going to go and check in so he could get more information.

Brad kept the kids wrangled though they were solemn enough beneath the weight of their father’s hands and the sight of their “Aunt Shelley” crying.

Little Janine tugged at her father’s sleeve and asked, “Is Aunt Shelley still going to get married?”

“I don’t know, baby,” Brad answered quietly. He passed his hand over her blonde head. “That’s up to her.”

Nurses seemed to flock room 107 though in actuality there was only one RN. But several nurse technologists and aides floated in and out, making sure their newest patient was completely accommodated and set for a potentially long stay.

Shelley was afraid to get her first look at Zach post-surgery, but at the same time, she was desperate to be close to him. Abigail and Carrie had gone in first, and out of deference to their familial connection, Shelley gave them privacy. So with her mother, she stood outside the open door, not in the way, and waited. Bill and Barbara had each hugged her warmly and taken their leave along with their daughters, Brad, and grandkids. Jared hadn’t yet come around, likely consulting with the surgeon on the gravity of Zach’s condition.

Carol laid a tender hand on Shelley’s shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I shouldn’t have left that church.”

“And why did you,
mi hija
?” Carol asked, concern softening her voice. “It was your idea, Carter said, to have the wedding so soon. If you weren’t ready–”

“It’s not that,” Shelley said, weakly. She dropped her gaze, catching sight of the now brown spots on the folds of satin. “I don’t love him. At least not the way I–” She caught herself.

“The way you love Zach,” Carolina completed. Her mouth tipped out of empathy. “You know, your father was not grandpa’s choice.”

Shelley blinked back hot moisture but kept her focus on her hands.

“But you see, I was not a good girl like you. And I had too much already. Grandpa said Henri was trouble and would only make me unhappy. But I threatened to never speak to my father again and well.” She shrugged.

At this, Shelley looked at her mother. “You did?”

“Oh yes. My mother, Grandma, was hard on me too.” She touched Shelley’s curls. “But on this, she backed me up. She liked your father even though he was
nothing
when we first met.” She flicked her hand to emphasize how much of a “nothing” Henri had been. “But now look at him.” A smile of pride and love spread her Latina features. “I had dreams of either marrying someone very lofty or not marrying at all. After all, I really didn’t think I needed anyone. I had my music.” Her eyes shadowed but then brightened as she spoke of Henri. “But your father was… different. He understood my passion and just wanted to share it. And from the first day, I knew I couldn’t live without him.” She smiled and took Shelley’s chin. “If you feel that way about Zach, then I am happy for you.” She hugged Shelley and held on for a while, saying, “I’ll talk to your father, but even if he doesn’t come around, you must fight for the one you love.”

Shelley’s eyes stung, and she blinked, striving to hold back the tide, so weary of crying. Her head ached badly, and she hugged her mother back, scared of losing everything she cared about.

Carol let Shelley go and touched her daughter’s cheek. “Stay with him. I’ll bring you some clothes and things.”

Her lip quivered. “Thank you, Mom.”

“I love you,” Carol said with a smile. “Be brave.” And then she took her leave.

Abigail sat with Carrie by Zach’s bed, eyes dry now but her heart brimming with unbridled sorrow. It wasn’t right for a grandmother to outlive her grandchildren. And yet, the possibility that she might lose her eldest grandson was very real.

Carrie was just as distressed, her cherry nose red and dripping. She looked over her shoulder and saw her husband enter. She got up right away, going into his embrace. “Please tell me he’s going to be okay.”

Jared’s face was grim. “I don’t know. Dr. Ramesh consulted with a few other physicians and the general consensus is we’ll just have to wait.”

“So he could stay in a coma forever?”

“That would be a good scenario in his case,” he replied, his tone attempting to ease the blow.

Abigail drew a slow breath and took Zach’s hand. “Why is he so cold, Jared?”

“His body’s trying to keep the important parts warm right now, limiting circulation to help the overall healing process.” Jared shook his head. “But that’s not necessarily going to do any good.”

Sighing, Abigail lifted the blanket and covered Zach’s arm, smoothing the sheet over him and then stroking back the forelock of his hair. It broke her heart to see him like this. She couldn’t stay with him. “Carrie, dear, I’m rather tired. When you’re ready, could you drop me at my flat?”

Carrie looked at Jared imploringly; he gave a ready and imperceptible nod. She went to her grandmother’s side, crouching by her chair. “Why don’t you stay with us for a few days, Grandma? That way I can bring you over whenever you want. Okay?”

Abigail turned to her middle granddaughter, somewhat surprised. She offered a smile. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“No way. I think Shelley’s going to stay, and anyway, Jared’s starting his shift, and I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Abigail looked to Jared for verification and then consented.

Minutes later, Carrie and Abigail headed out and Jared ushered Shelley into the room, staying only long enough to make sure she was okay.

“I’ll be around,” he said. “Just have the nurse page me, okay?”

Shelley nodded mutely. The door closed as Jared left, and she stopped clutching the folds of her dress, finally looking at the bed, her fragile heart dangling by a string.

He was a shadow. She could barely detect the rise and fall of his chest. Pain strangled her until she couldn’t swallow. She squeezed her eyes shut and bowed her head, fighting the wellspring of turmoil. Blinking rapidly, she cleared her hazy vision and looked to the heart rate and blood pressure monitor for assurance that he was, in fact, breathing. The graph that scrolled across the screen told her he had a pulse.

Sitting down, she took his cold hand and stroked the back of it with her thumb. The door opened again, and she withdrew, looking behind her. A nurse shuffled in with a laundry bag. “Sorry, hon, I just came to bring the items he had plus whatever clothes we could salvage.”

She wanted to speak but refrained knowing she would start crying again. However, she managed a “thank you”.

“You’re welcome, dear. Will you be staying tonight?”

She hadn’t actually decided until that moment, but then knew she couldn’t leave him. “Yes, if that’s okay.”

“Of course. I’ll get you put into the system so you can come and go without problems.”

Shelley smiled her thanks.

“And I’ll bring you some blankets and a pillow.” The nurse pointed to the couch. “That’s a sleeper sofa. If you like I can help you set it up.” She looked at Shelley again. “Is someone bringing you a change of clothes?”

Self-consciously, Shelley nodded and grimaced with her now-throbbing head. “I think so.”

The nurse smiled sympathetically. “Are you hungry, sweetie?”

“No, I just have a headache.”

“Well,” she said, starting away, “I’ll get you some ibuprofen. My own personal stash. And animal crackers too. I’m guessing you never got to cut the cake.”

Shelley gave a shuddering sigh at the mention. “Thank you.” The door stayed open this time, and she remained stiff, listening to seconds drag by. No noise. No music. Nothing to drown the voices swirling inside her head.

For a moment she actually felt angry with him. Why had he come when it was the FBI’s job to capture Kazanov? How had he even known where to find her? Why couldn’t he just abide by the rules?

The nurse returned with meds, blankets, two pillows, and lots of snack food choices for whom she assumed was the patient’s fiancée. Shelley was touched by the woman’s kindness and care. A short while later, James and Erik, changed out of their wedding best, came by with clothes, toiletries, and books for her. Erik pulled out a giant bar of Cadbury with hazelnuts and caramel, a big pink bow around it. “My ex swore by these,” he said with a cheesy smirk. His eyes were solemn however.

“Mom wants us to get your dress,” James told her. “So she can clean it right away.”

Understanding, Shelley complied and changed in the small bathroom into jeans, a white tank, and a burgundy cable-knit sweater. She cinched the tie at the waist and balled up her dress, glad and yet depressed to be rid of it. A waste.

Erik was looking at Zach when she came out. “So,” he said, “you think you might actually marry this one?”

James scowled at him.

“No. I’m serious.” Erik turned to Shelley. “Third time’s a charm. Right?”

Shelley’s features contorted as she stuffed the dress into a laundry bag. “Are you trying to make me feel worse?”

James wanted to hit Erik upside the head as he went to comfort his sister. But Erik shoved him away and hugged her himself. Tightly. “Listen,” he told her, speaking in earnest, “I was never a huge fan of Zach’s, but if he really took a bullet for my sister, then he beats Jared, he beats Carter, he beats the whole damn world.” He grinned. “Hell, if you don’t marry him, I think I might have to.”

Shelley gave a small smile.

Erik planted a kiss on her hair, something he never did if the surprised pleasure on her face was any indication. “You’ll get through this. Alright? You’re a Mitchel. We’re not prey. We’re predators.”

She cocked her brow and nodded slowly. “Uh huh.”

“What? That’s the exact pep talk Dad gives the firm every week.” Erik looked at James for corroboration. “Right?”

James shrugged. “More or less.”

Erik became serious then and returned his focus to Shelley. “Anyway. If you need anything, call me.” He made the universal call sign. “I’m just a couple blocks away.”

“Thanks, Erik,” she said and gave his cheek a peck.

James took his turn embracing his sister. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

“Okay. How’s Daddy?” she asked, biting her lip like she was afraid to know. “Is he mad at me?”

“I don’t know. Mom says he hasn’t talked to her yet.”

She grimaced and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “What if he never talks to me again?”

“Hey. Don’t forget what you told him earlier.” James gently yanked on a lock of her hair. “You can’t back down. He’s not gonna cave if you go crying ‘Daddy, I’m sorry’ as I’m sure he expects you to.”

“But I can’t stand him being upset with me,” she moaned, distressed.

Erik spoke up again. “God, Shelley! Dad’s not the end all be all. You don’t need his constant approval. If you really think doing what you want for once is going to push him away forever, then you don’t have a clue how much he loves you – how much power you have.” He stared pointedly at her. “Just be quiet, stay with your boy” – he stabbed a finger at Zach’s form – “and he’ll come around.” He checked his watch and said jokingly, “Alright, and so ends your free consultation. After this? Two hundred bucks an hour.”

Her jaw slackened. “Two
hundred
?”

“More with that attitude,” Erik ribbed, purposely laying on thick his version of Bronx. “But I’ll tell you what, kid.” He draped an arm around her. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll throw in the chocolate. And maybe some peanut brittle. Ya like peanuts?”

His delivery was so spot-on, Shelley couldn’t help but laugh. James just rolled his eyes at Erik’s antics but he was happy to see his sister smile.

“Oh yeah,” James said, reaching into his pocket, “I brought you your car. It’s parked in the garage.” He gave her the keys and parking ticket. “No more walking around, understand? It’s got a full tank. And here’s five hundred. Just don’t like leave the state or anything.”

She dropped her gaze, slightly embarrassed that the thought had occurred to her more than once today already.

James smirked to soften his words and then grew serious again. “I’d rather not bring this up now, but Kazanov? Fed’s believe Zach did it, and I think it’s simpler just to let them. It was his gun; he won’t get in any trouble. You, on the other hand… We’d have a lot of explaining to do. And a special investigations prosecutor won’t go easy on you.”

Her gaze shifted to Erik. “But Detective Valentino knows the truth.”

“It was Rick’s idea to just let it be,” Erik returned. “He’s going to back up the story in his report, and that’ll be the end of it. He said he wanted to do this for you.”

She bit her lip and glanced back at Zach sorrowfully. “Are you sure he won’t get in trouble?”

“Not at all. He was trying to save you.”

Her eyes flooded easily at the mention. “You’ve almost got me believing it.”

James rubbed her back. “As you should because it’s the truth. That’s why the FBI bought it so easily; Bennet knows how many guys Zach’s killed to keep you alive.”

Her heart squeezed, and she shut her eyes. “What if he dies?” she asked hoarsely.

“Don’t think about it,” Erik advised. “We’ll cross the next bridge when we come to it.”

Though reluctant to leave her, James and Erik departed shortly after with her wedding dress in a bag, passing by the police officer who’d been posted outside Zach’s room. And before she knew it, she was alone again, the fleeting moment of levity earlier vanished like footprints in the sand.

She returned to his side and resumed her seat in the dimly lit room. Now that she was alone with him, she allowed the tears to trickle down her face unchecked, and she realized with clarity that life would never be the same for either of them again.