The Final Line (42 page)

Corey was surprised when Sean consulted him regarding parts he should take and gigs he should play. Each time Sean accepted work, he’d reply to the deal memo and discuss the expected contracts with his agent. It was an entirely different world from what Corey knew and he found it fascinating. He liked that Sean wanted his input. Not that Sean always did what Corey wanted, but they at least discussed it.

Before Corey could broach the subject of his own professional opportunity, a deputy entered the room to offer them food or drink. Sean needed the men’s room so the deputy escorted him down the hall.

Captain Hirata sighed, closed his laptop and sat back in his chair. “I got an email from Kellan,” he said.

“And how are Mr. Reynolds and Top Carver?” Corey asked.

“Causing trouble as usual,” Hirata replied. “He’s pushing hard for more recognition of PTS, easier access to services, and a little more care in the number of times they rotate you guys through deployment.”

“That sounds like Kellan,” Core said with a snort.

“He said to give you a message. ‘Give ’em hell, Devil Dog’.” Hirata grinned.

With a smile, Corey said, “
That
sounds more like Jonah than Kellan.”

Hirata nodded. “I think the words
are
Jonah’s, but Kellan echoes the sentiment. He asked if you’re ready for Scout Sniper School?”

“I still can’t believe I was accepted after everything that’s gone on,” admitted Corey.

“You passed the quals with flying colors and those of us who wrote letters on your behalf couldn’t make it more clear just how rock-solid you are.”

Corey’s face warmed. “I appreciate that, sir. And yes, I’m ready.”

Sean returned at that moment, forestalling further conversation. Hirata went back to his laptop.

By mid-afternoon, not even Sean could keep Corey from going stir crazy. He paced the room, aware he was beginning to get on Sean’s and the captain’s nerves.

“It won’t be much longer, Corey,” Hirata said soothingly. “If the current witness isn’t going to finish in the next hour, they’ll release you until tomorrow.”

“I’m gonna hit the head.” Corey opened the door and got the attention of a deputy. “The walk down the hall will kill some time,” he said, just as he stepped into the corridor.

Sean quickly chased after him. “I’m coming with.”

“You just went,” Corey said incredulously.

“You’re not the only one getting bored in that room.”

“You’re probably gonna have to do this all again tomorrow,” the deputy said apologetically. “This late in the day, even if the current witness finishes, the judge will likely adjourn.”

“I just wish she’d do it soon,” Corey groused. “I’ve been in this damn suit all day.”

“We should hear something soon.” The deputy stopped outside the door to the men’s room.

“I’ll wait here,” Sean said, leaning against the sill across from the deputy. “I don’t think you need your hand held in the john.”

Corey drew breath to quip about which body part he’d like to have held, then remembered just where they were. He huffed a laugh instead.

No sooner did the door close behind him than Nygaard stumbled out of the second stall. Corey tensed. A quick glance at the stall doors hanging partway open told him there was no deputy or lawyer to keep Nygaard in check. Planting his feet and squaring his shoulders, Corey prepared for the confrontation to turn physical.

Nygaard leaned heavily against the wall at his back. He laughed mirthlessly when his eyes managed to focus on Corey. Nygaard looked and acted drunk. He wore a civilian suit since he’d been convicted at his Court Martial, had been dishonorably discharged and sentenced to life in a military prison.

“Pull yourself together, Nygaard,” Corey snapped. “You’re a fucking disgrace. Your family is standing behind you, and this is how you act in the middle of your murder trial? You don’t deserve their love and support.”

It was a low blow but Corey was so fucking sick of this coward. He wondered if it was too much to hope that someone had realized Nygaard had stepped beyond the wire, and would show up right about now, looking for him.

“You’re right, I don’t,” Nygaard slurred. “I’m all fucked up. The Marine Corps fucked me up and then they set me up to take the fall.”

“I’m not gonna listen to your crap,” growled Corey. “You were a pain in my ass before you saw combat.
You
fucked
me
up, but I didn’t murder innocent women and children. You do realize how much of a coward that makes you, right?” he demanded. “In Afghanistan and back home, you get your jollies murdering women and children.”

Nygaard looked unsteady on his feet. Despite leaning against a solid wall, he swayed slightly.

“It’s so fuckin’ easy for you,” Nygaard muttered, barely intelligible. “Everything’s so fuckin’ easy for you.” He abruptly slid down the wall, landing on his ass with a thump. “Didn’t mean to hurt her. I loved her. She just made me so fuckin’
mad
.”

As Nygaard slid down the wall, Corey darted forward. Nygaard was more than just drunk. “Sean! Sean!” Corey shouted as he eased Nygaard’s limp body to lie supine on the cold, tile floor.

The deputy sheriff was the first to burst through the restroom door, Sean right on his six and struggling to get to Corey.

“Jesus Christ!” Sean blurted. “How the fuck did he get in here?”

“He was already in here when I came in,” Corey replied as he loosened Nygaard’s collar. He checked his pulse and respiration and found it wasn’t good.

“Where the hell are his attorney and his escort?” the deputy demanded.

“No idea, he’s the only one in here,” Corey barked out. “Call an ambulance. His pulse is weak and he’s barely breathing.”

The deputy finally let Sean pass and began to speak into the mic clipped to his shoulder. The outer door opened again and Captain Hirata burst in.

“Corey, are you okay?” he demanded.

“I’m fine, sir,” Corey answered as he searched Nygaard’s pockets. He wasn’t drunk. This was something else altogether.

Hirata took a knee on Nygaard’s other side.

“I’ll make sure everyone stays out until the FD arrives,” the deputy announced and turned toward the door.

Sean stood in the center of the room looking stunned.

“He was in here when I came in,” Corey told Hirata. “At first I thought he was drunk, but he looks like he’s dying.” Even as he spoke, Corey pulled multiple prescription bottles out of the inner pockets of Nygaard’s suit jacket. The bottles were all empty. Corey read the labels. Valium, muscle relaxants, two different narcotic pain killers. “Oh shit, I think he OD’d.”

Nygaard looked unnaturally still. His skin was pale and waxy, his lips beginning to take on a blue tint. Corey pressed two fingers to Nygaard’s throat. Captain Hirata leaned over and used his cheek to test for breath at Nygaard’s mouth and nose.

“I don’t think he’s breathing,” Hirata declared.

“His heart stopped,” Corey announced at the same time. “Nygaard! Michael! Can you hear me? Michael, wake up.” Corey shook Nygaard violently by the shoulders and received no response. “Sergeant Nygaard, wake the fuck up!” He slapped Nygaard sharply on both cheeks several times. There was still no response.

With one hand on Nygaard’s forehead and the other on his chin, Corey tilted Nygaard’s head back and opened his mouth. Pinching Nygaard’s nose closed, Corey covered his mouth with his own and blew hard, watching from the corner of one eye as Nygaard’s chest rose. He blew several times, filling Nygaard’s lungs.

As Corey breathed for Nygaard, Hirata opened Nygaard’s jacket and stripped off his tie. Buttons clacked against the walls and floor when the captain tore open Nygaard’s shirt. Rising up, Corey placed his fingers on Nygaard’s sternum and felt for the end of his breastbone between his last ribs. Measuring upward with two parallel fingers, Corey covered the heel of one hand with the palm of the other and began compressions.

“One, two, three, four, five,” he muttered quietly. On five, Hirata blew air into Nygaard’s lungs. “One, two, three, four, five,” Corey repeated and Hirata once against breathed for their victim.

“Call it when you’re ready to switch,” Hirata said quietly.

Corey acknowledged with a single nod as he rocked on his knees, elbows and shoulders locked, and compressed Nygaard’s chest. He counted out his five compressions breathlessly. The heat of his body built up in his uniform and Corey started to sweat. He ignored it.

The deputy re-entered the restroom and spoke into his shoulder mic. “CPR is in progress,” he said. “Vic has been down about ten minutes.”

Corey forgot Sean was there until he felt someone kneel behind him. Confident fingers unfastened the belt of his uniform coat and pushed the buttons through their holes. This time when Corey reached his five-count, Sean tugged his uniform coat over his shoulders and down his arms. As Corey placed his hands back on Nygaard’s chest, Sean pulled his tie from around his collar.

Immediately, Corey was cooler and it easier to move. He’d have to remember to thank Sean for his cleverness.

When Hirata completed his next rescue breath, Sean quickly helped him out of his uniform coat. They easily fell back into their rhythm. Corey couldn’t help thinking this wasn’t going to end well.

Long minutes later, Corey was fatigued. His arms and knees ached. He was flushed, sweat beading on his face and rolling freely down his temples and neck, into his uniform shirt.

“Switch,” Corey gasped as he started his next set of five compressions.

Hirata completed the rescue breath and knelt up to shift positions. He measured the right spot on Nygaard’s sternum and took over compressions. When he reached five, Corey inhaled and blew a rescue breath into Nygaard’s lungs.

Chaos erupted as the restroom door burst open and paramedics dressed in blue BDUs entered, heavily laden with equipment.

They were taught not to stop CPR until they could hand off the victim to a doctor, but Corey and Hirata were exhausted and let the paramedics take over. When Nygaard’s pulse didn’t resume after they used the defibrillator, Corey was convinced this was the end.

Together, Sean and Hirata pushed and pulled Corey out of the men’s room. He couldn’t stop staring at Nygaard as the paramedics continued to work on him. Corey was fucking pissed. The coward Nygaard had found a way to avoid punishment for all of his crimes. Corey should have seen it coming.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. Sean helped Corey back into his uniform, hiding the sweat stains on his shirt. He felt disgusting and wanted a shower badly. The paramedics transported Nygaard to the hospital. Corey answered questions for the deputies. Hirata demanded to know how Nygaard had slipped his escort and his attorneys. He was outraged on Corey’s behalf.

Sean never left Corey’s side. He gave his own statement but he hadn’t seen much. He simply stood beside Corey, quietly reassuring him, touching his hand from time to time. Sean made sure Corey drank water and offered to bring him food. Corey couldn’t eat, though.

When they got word that Nygaard had died, Corey snorted derisively. “Fucking coward, took the easy way out,” he said angrily. “Couldn’t face the consequences of his actions.”

Hirata called a halt to everything and announced that he was taking Corey home. The homicide detectives tried to protest, but Corey was only a witness and he’d been cooperative. The captain told them to contact him to schedule a time for follow up questions, and with that, the three of them left.

Corey didn’t remember the drive home. He followed Sean up the stairs and through the front door.

“Corey, you’re scaring me,” Sean said as he pulled off his own tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. “Are you okay?”

Corey focused on him. He didn’t like the concerned expression on Sean’s face. “Yeah, I am. Don’t worry. I’m just trying to absorb the fact that it’s over. It’s all over. Finally.”

Sean crossed to him and drew Corey into his arms. “Yeah, baby, it is. Finally.”

Corey pressed a kiss to Sean’s temple. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Maybe I’ll start dinner while you’re doing that.” Sean looked around the room, seeming lost, his expression almost confused.

Corey supposed that Sean was still processing the unexpected turn of events from that day. “Just something simple. Don’t go to a lot of trouble, I’m seriously not very hungry,” Corey told him, heading for the bedroom.

“Are you sure?” There was something hesitant in Sean’s voice.

Corey turned back. “It’s because they fed us so well at the courthouse today, that’s all.” He tried to reassure Sean with a smile.

“All right,” Sean said dubiously.

It surprised Corey how easily they settled into their evening routine, despite the horror of the day. It was comforting. He showered quickly and slid on nothing but a pair of well-worn jeans. He replayed the day’s events over and over, waiting to feel something. It had been an awful experience, but he’d been through worse. Corey kept thinking he should be having a stronger reaction than he was.

As he quietly padded through Sean’s condo on his way to the kitchen, it struck him; Corey felt extraordinary sadness for Nygaard’s family. His father and his brother loved him unconditionally. He’d seen their faces when they had thanked Corey and Hirata for trying to save Nygaard, in spite of everything. Corey was saddened by the destruction that Nygaard had left in his wake, including the waste of his own life and family.

As soon as Corey realized what it was he was feeling and that it was, for once, completely appropriate to the situation, he relaxed and just let it go.

Sean moved around the kitchen barefoot, dressed only in jeans and a tank top. He assembled simple sandwiches for them both. Afterward, Corey helped clean up.

They lay entwined on the couch catching up on television shows they had DVR’d. Corey stretched out on the sofa, settling Sean between his legs and back against him. At some point, the skin of his arms wasn’t enough and Corey stripped off Sean’s shirt so his naked back was warm against the flesh of Corey’s chest and stomach. He ran his hands idly over Sean’s body, in no hurry to take things further quite yet. They had all night and that thought settled peacefully over Corey. Still, each time he skimmed his fingertips just below the waist of Sean’s jeans, he felt the burgeoning hardness.