Internal Affair (21 page)

“She saved my life,” Patrick replied simply. There was no doubt in his mind that if she hadn’t shot the gun out of Foster’s hand, he would have been dead right now.

Taking a breath, he pulled himself together and filled in his sister and Maggi’s father as best he could about what had happened in the warehouse, ending with Foster’s arrest and Maggi being taken into surgery. Reynolds had gone to the morgue in a body bag.

Matthew listened to it all in solemn silence. When Patrick finished, he nodded.

“I had a feeling all along that something wasn’t right, but I had no way of proving it and I didn’t want to let Maggi in on my suspicions. I knew she’d try to do something like this. Stubborn as all get-out, that girl. Thinks she’s Joan of Arc the way she carries on about doing the right thing. I was afraid she’d take this into her own hands,” Matthew McKenna said.

He didn’t know, Patrick realized as he looked at Maggi’s father. Matthew McKenna had no idea that his daughter worked for IA. She’d kept it from him.

“She’s headstrong that way,” Patrick agreed, not adding that it was also part of her job. Her being part of IA wasn’t his secret to tell.

They heard several voices coming from around the bend. The next moment, Patrick saw his uncles Andrew and Brian heading toward them. He looked at Patience.

“I called them after you called me.” She looked at Maggi’s father. “Patrick told me that you know my uncles. I thought maybe you might need some company right now.”

Matthew felt as if he’d aged ten years since he’d received the call from Patrick. He was grateful for Patience’s thoughtfulness. He couldn’t be distracted, but being around old comrades helped keep some of the demons at bay.

“Thank you.”

Patience nodded. She glanced at her brother. If only there was someone she could call for him.

Patrick stood apart from the others, although it wasn’t easy. The corridor had become crammed with people who knew Maggi, family friends and veterans of the force who had watched her grow up from a golden haired toddler into the woman she was, as well as people she worked with now. Carving out a space for himself was difficult, especially when everyone was trying to bolster each other.

He didn’t care about other people’s stories of miraculous recoveries or statistics that tipped the scales in her favor. None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was what was going on behind the closed doors of the ground-floor operating room.

He felt as though he were standing in a time warp, holding his breath, vacillating between anger and fear.

When the blue-gowned internal surgeon finally made his way among them and asked, “Who’s here for Maggi McKenna?” everyone replied in the affirmative and crowded around the physician.

Matthew pushed his way into the center. “I’m Maggi’s father.”

“How is she?” Patrick demanded, cutting the man off. He’d been the one the surgeon had briefed as quickly as he could about Maggi’s situation. The surgeon wouldn’t have even done that except that Patrick had rushed alongside of him as Maggi was being hurried into the operating room.

The surgeon looked close to exhaustion.

“She’s one hell of a lucky girl. Half an inch closer and the wound would have been fatal.” He seemed as relieved as the people crowded around him. “But we got the bullet out and she’s going to be just fine, although she needs a lot of rest.”

Patrick knew how receptive Maggi would be to that. The instant she started getting better, she would want to be back in active duty. “Don’t worry, I’ll sit on her if I have to.”

“I wouldn’t advise that if I were you.” The surgeon smiled weakly, removing the surgical mask from around his neck. “At least not on her stomach.”

There was something in the other man’s voice that made Patrick wary. “Her stomach?”

“I’m sorry, little joke to ease the tension on my part. That’s just my way of saying that the baby’s fine, too.”

“Baby?” Patrick echoed incredulously. For the second time that day, he felt as if he’d been punched straight in the gut. Taking the man’s arm, he drew him over to the side. “She’s pregnant?”

“Yes. Just barely.” The surgeon’s eyes searched Patrick’s face. He must have made the assumption that Patrick was his patient’s husband. “I’m sorry, did I just spoil the surprise?”

Feeling shaken and hardly aware of what he was doing, Patrick clapped the surgeon on the shoulder. “No, you did just fine, Doc. Just fine.”

He left his hand there a moment longer before withdrawing it. Balance became a matter of intense concentration. Patrick felt as if someone had just taken away the ground from beneath his feet.

Chapter 21

M
aggi’s surgeon finally allowed Matthew and Patrick in to see her once she was out of recovery and safely in her room.

“But only for a few minutes,” he cautioned before opening the door for them. “She’s conscious but she’s still very weak.”

Matthew nodded solemnly as he passed the physician. The moment he saw his daughter, clear colored tubes running through her arms, his heart constricted. Positioning himself on one side of her, he took Maggi’s hand in his, lightly kissed her forehead and said, “You’re getting off the force.”

Maggi smiled at her father. Her eyes flickered over Patrick. He was here. She hadn’t imagined it. And he was all right. He and her baby were all right. That was all that mattered.

“Hi, Dad.” Her voice sounded raspy and distant to her own ear. “Didn’t the doctor tell you not to get me upset?”

His grip tightened slightly around her hand. “I’m older. I’m not supposed to be upset first.” Tears sprang to his eyes as he thought of what could have been. “Oh Mag-pie…” Unable to finish without cracking, his voice trailed off.

All the emotions she’d felt when she’d first gone to see him in the hospital returned. She wished she could have spared him this. “I know, Dad. I was standing on the other side of the railing not that long ago, remember?”

He nodded. “I like better being the one to get shot. You don’t worry as much.” He bent over and kissed her cheek. This wasn’t over, but right now, she needed her rest. He glanced toward Patrick. The young man was restless. It was easy to see he wanted some time alone with her. “We’ll talk later,” Matthew promised.

“Won’t do any good,” she warned. A smattering of the sparkle had returned to her eyes and Matthew took heart in that.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Feeling a rock had been lifted from his heart, Matthew slipped out and left Patrick alone with his daughter.

The words erupted out of Patrick the second the door was closed. “What the hell were you thinking, flying in like some goddamned superhero?”

“Probably the same thing you were when you went in.” She was weak and it was costing her to talk. But things had to get said. “Y’know, a person shouldn’t be afraid or be too proud to accept help, especially when there are guns pointed at him.”

“You could have been killed,” Patrick said.

“So could you,” she countered though with far less energy than she would have wanted to. “And if you had been, it would have been my fault. I couldn’t have that on my conscience.”

“Why would it be your fault?”

She took a deep breath, fighting against the desire to close her eyes and drift off. “Because you weren’t thinking straight after you walked out of Halliday’s office. Anyone could see that.”

Patrick struggled against the urge to shake her. To grab her and hold her close to him, never letting her go. Instead, he forced himself to remain where he was and just look at her. “Can you blame me?”

“Yeah, I can. You know how the job works.”

“And you were only doing your job, right?” He didn’t want to be having this same argument again. It led nowhere. And besides, she was right. “Sorry. It’s behind us now and yes, I do know how the job works.” He hadn’t realized until this moment just how shaky he felt, as if his insides were one huge mass of undulating Jell-O. “And better someone fair and impartial like you than someone on the take and under Reynolds’s thumb.”

She took in a deep breath, trying to tack her words onto it. “Does it stop with Reynolds?”

To take his mind off her surgery, Patrick reported the matter to Brian, who, as chief of detectives, promised to take it from there.

“Too soon to tell, but it’s a lot dirtier than we thought.”

Bits and pieces of thoughts floated through her head. She thought of Alicia and her children. “What about Ramirez’s wife?”

“I think I can keep her clean.” Unless something drastic came to light to change the picture, the woman was safe. He paused. He didn’t want to talk about the case or other people. Not when there was something so much bigger before them. “Doctor said you were going to be fine.”

She smiled weakly. She’d never had a doubt. Not about herself. She supposed that was vain in a way, but her own mortality had never occurred to her. “I’m tough, like my dad.”

“Baby’s going to be fine, too.” Each word had been measured out. He looked at her intently. “Is it mine?”

Her heart felt as if it had been pricked. Did he doubt her? The other deceptions didn’t matter. This he should have known. “Do you have to ask?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She didn’t look away. “Again, do you have to ask?” Maggi tried to read his expression and couldn’t. A sinking feeling took hold, trespassing on the physical pain. If Patrick was happy about the situation, she would have known it, felt it. He obviously wanted nothing to do with her baby or her.

“I’m not going to ask you for anything except maybe input on the baby’s name when the time comes.” The scowl didn’t leave his face. Her spirits sank a little lower. “You don’t even have to do that if you don’t want to.”

He felt like the last man standing after a day-long blitzkrieg. So many emotions bounced around inside of him he couldn’t begin to sort them out or even make heads or tails out of the mess. He was unaccustomed to having any emotions at all, much less a conflicting squadron. It had been one hell of a day. The woman he loved wasn’t who he’d thought she was. On top of that, she had almost died saving his life. And then to discover that she was carrying his baby, well, it was just too much for him to handle. At least, right away.

“Baby’s name is up to you,” he told her, his voice distant, detached. “Seeing as how you’ve been calling all the shots so far.”

“Not all the shots.” She pulled her courage together, knowing she would never get another chance to be so nakedly honest, and knowing she had everything to lose. But she had to say it, had to tell him, no matter what the consequences. “I didn’t plan on falling in love with you. I didn’t even plan on liking you.”

Love. He tried to absorb the word but couldn’t, not when he felt so numbed.

“Yeah, well, plans don’t always work out, do they?” He needed distance, time and distance, to be fair to her. To be fair to himself. He nodded toward the door. “The hall’s full of people who want to see you. I’ve probably gone over my time limit.” His voice was flat. “I’ll see you later.”

With that, he walked out of the room.

Maggi forced her tears back.

Patrick didn’t remember walking out of the hospital. Didn’t remember driving around in his car or where he and the next two hours eventually went.

His thoughts were all tied up in knots, much the way his gut was whenever he began to think of what might have happened to Maggi in the warehouse and how the scenario in the operating room might have turned out.

He could have lost her.

And lost himself.

Like a homing pigeon relying completely on programming and instinct, Patrick found himself returning to the precinct. Parking, he yanked up the hand brake. All the frustration he’d endured these past few hours came to a head, threatening to explode within him. Explode out of him.

Getting out of his car, he walked into the building and made his way up the stairwell until he reached the floor that housed IA.

Without sparing her a glance, he strode past Halliday’s secretary.

About to go home, the woman looked up, taken completely by surprise. Belatedly she realized where he was going. “Wait, you can’t go in there.”

“Shoot me,” Patrick snapped, leaving the woman utterly speechless.

John Halliday was on the phone when the door to his office was abruptly thrown open. The man in the doorway looked as if he was loaded for bear.

“Speak of the devil,” Halliday murmured into the receiver. “He just walked in. I’ll talk to you later.” Hanging up, he rose from his chair. “Cavanaugh, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Patrick curbed the urge to shout at the man, to let loose with a string of expletives. That would hardly release the fury he was experiencing. Instead, he measured out his words as evenly as he could.

“Maybe if I’d been here to begin with, you could have saved everyone a hell of a lot of time and effort.” He stood toe-to-toe with the man, their eyes level. “You should have asked me directly. I would have cooperated with any investigation.”

Halliday surprised him by laughing. “You don’t exactly have the best reputation for working and playing well with others, Detective. Instead of answering questions, we figured you’d storm off, forewarned. We weren’t sure if you really were in on it, the way the informant claimed, or how deep all of this went. Having someone on the inside was the best way to go. You know, sometimes things have to be done according to someone else’s rules, not yours.

“By the way, you might be interested to know that the informant turned out to be Foster. He confessed half an hour ago. He’s ready to flip on everyone, as long as we can guarantee that he’ll stay alive.”

But Halliday could see that Cavanaugh’s reputation was the last thing on the man’s mind. Halliday indicated the telephone. “That was her on the phone—McKenna—filing her last report. Woman’s amazing. Flat on her back and she’s still thinking about the job. I’m going to hate to lose her.”

Patrick became alert. “Lose her?”

Halliday nodded. “She asked for a transfer. Said she didn’t like dealing in lies anymore, even for a good cause.”

Patrick told himself he didn’t care. He knew he was lying. “Where does she want a transfer to?”

“She said she’d get back to me about that. Had to think about what to do with the rest of her life.” Halliday looked at him pointedly. “You might like to help her with that.”

“Me?”

Halliday snorted. “Give me a little credit here, Cavanaugh. All that emotion exploding out of you like lava from Mount Saint Helens isn’t just because you think your honor’s been impugned. I’m not saying anything else here, except that I don’t think, off the record, that McKenna’s the kind of woman any man in his right mind should allow to get away—provided she was interested in him in the first place.”

Halliday took his coat from the rack and slipped it on.

“Now, if there’s nothing else, I’d like to go home to my wife and tell her I love her. I can’t remember the last time I said that to her and she deserves to hear it. G’night, Cavanaugh.”

Patrick walked out in front of him.

He drove home. To try to be alone with his thoughts. To try to pick up pieces of the life he’d had until McKenna had walked into it, messing everything up.

The first thing he saw when he let himself into his condo and turned on the light was the Christmas tree in the center of the living room.

The one that she had brought him.

It sagged like a little old man, its branches weighed down by the decorations she’d insisted he’d take. He’d been so wrapped up in his work, he’d forgotten to get rid of it.

Pine needles were scattered on the carpet like pale green dandruff. He hadn’t remembered to water it, either. Nothing but a pain in the neck, that’s what it was.

He remembered opening the door and seeing Maggi peering around it.

He touched a branch and was surprised to find that it wasn’t as brittle as he’d thought it would be.

Having Maggi in his life meant always being surprised. If she wasn’t in it anymore…

Turning on his heel, Patrick shut off the light and went back out.

Daylight tried to push its way through the white curtains her father had drawn shut before he’d left for the night.

Maggi stirred.

The slight motion brought an army of pain marching through her with huge combat boots. She felt worse today than yesterday.

Except for her heart.

That was as bad as ever. She expected it would be for a very long time to come.

Resisting the temptation of falling back into blessed oblivion, Maggi forced herself to open her eyes.

She wasn’t alone in the room.

Startled, Maggi automatically reached for the weapon that wasn’t there and cried out in pain from the effort before she could bite it back.

Patrick immediately stumbled out of the chair where he’d spent the night, remnants of sleep fleeing from his eyes.

“You want me to call the nurse? The doctor? What?”

Her head felt as if it were filled with cotton. Was this just another dream? She’d had several already, tiny vignettes in which Patrick had the dominant role. Sometimes he told her he loved her, sometimes he cursed her out. She was too exhausted, too emotionally drained to endure another go-around.

“Are you a dream?”

Her voice was strong. He could feel relief slipping through him. “Most people refer to me as a nightmare.”

He saw her reach toward him and he took her hand in his as he sank back down in the chair he’d dragged over to her bedside.

Maggi swallowed. Someone had filleted her throat while she was asleep. Every word seemed to be scraping along raw skin.

“What are you doing here?”

“Getting a really bad backache.”

He’d been in her room since one in the morning, having slipped in past security. The one nurse who had come in to check on Maggi’s condition had been persuaded to allow him to stay. He figured she felt sorry for him. He was hoping Maggi would, too.

“Why are you here? Did you forget to get something else off your chest?” Maggi was too leery to allow herself to be happy that he’d come back. Not after the way he’d reacted to hearing about the baby.

“Yeah, I did. The cobwebs.”

Maybe this was a dream. She could have sworn he was talking about cobwebs. “Excuse me?”

“The cobwebs from around my heart,” he explained. He was doing his best to be romantic, but in his mouth, the words came out all wrong. “I’ve never used it very much except clinically. You know, for pumping blood through my veins and all. I never knew I could use it to feel with.” He gave up the effort, knowing he’d made a mess of it. “Until you started putting me through hell.”

Her mouth curved slightly. “You’re not very good at this, are you?”

Still holding her hand, afraid to let it go, he blew out a breath. “The worst.”