Fly With Fire (34 page)

“Some,” Mo knew so little.
“He said you were opposed to the engagement.”

“I was very angry about it
though it wasn’t unexpected.” Tyler contemplated his manicure.

“You didn’t like Zack?” Mo
asked absently looking out the window hoping for the hospital to come into
view. She didn’t care what the Mayor thought.

“Actually, I liked Zack just
fine. But I didn’t want my daughter to marry a cop. I didn’t want her to ever
have to deal with…the possibilities. I told him to think about what it would
mean for Patricia. They were young. She had just graduated high school. Zachary
was in his second year of college. He’d wanted to wait ‘til he was out of
college. That on top of the rest of it. He broke off the engagement. I know he
thought it was for her own good. And it was.”

“Did he decide for your
daughter? Don’t you think she had a right to decide for herself?” Mo asked
heatedly.

“At the time all I could
think of was my daughter’s happiness. Zack wouldn’t budge on becoming a cop. He
was twenty. He was persuaded that it was the right thing. She wanted to get
married right away. She didn’t even want to wait for him to graduate. He knew
they were too young. He had to make a decision for himself. It took Patty a
couple a years to get over it. She hated Zack.” Tyler pulled at the knot of his
tie. “Of course I had to take her side.”

“Why did you have him put in
your office during the investigation?” Mo had always been curious about the
steps that had led him into her life. Hearing the mayor say he had actually
liked Zack took the edge off her derision.

“Because I assured him if
they did get married, though I was opposed, doors would open. I was DA, running
for mayor. I knew I was pretty much stepping into the job being the first Mayor
Tyler’s son. He’d be on easy street. Sounds counter intuitive, I know. I
assured him that he would go through the ranks no problem. Just make Patty
happy.”

Mo gave him a quizzical look
brows raised. “And that was supposed to stop him?”

“I watched Zack grow up.
Known him a long time. I saw the look on his face when I told him that and knew
I’d won. No way was he going to pick the free ride. It tipped the scale. When
he was put on suspension, I knew he wasn’t guilty of anything. So I intervened
and had him put on my detail where I could keep an eye on him. I was afraid
he’d take to drink like his old man if he wasn’t busy. Or meddle where he
didn’t belong. I was probably wrong about the drinking but the meddling…” Tyler
held up his hand with a so/so wobble. I just wanted to keep a friendly eye out
though he would never believe that. I also wanted to show faith in the force.
Funny how things turn out.”

“I’d laugh but I don’t have
it in me right now. He doesn’t say so but I think he wasn’t exactly happy
working for you.” Mo looked anxiously out the window. How much further?

“Almost there. Of course he
wasn’t. He’s a cop. It’s his life. He’s come a long way as a detective. He made
detective young by the way. He’ll be a great one someday. And he will have
worked for it. I think he’d shrivel up and die if he couldn’t be a cop. “He
annoyed the shit out of me because though he was professional, I could tell he
hated being on my detail. Too bad ‘cause I’d trust him with my life. I’d love
to have him stick. Pull up to the door, Mickey. Hurry along; I gotta deal with
the fucking press.”

Mo evaded the press with
Tyler’s help and ran to the front desk of the emergency room and enquired about
Zack. The clerk had seen Mo and Tyler get out of the limo. He braced for demands.
“They took him up to surgery, I have no other information.”

“Where’s surgery?” Then she
saw Al Simpson. The hair stood up on the back of her neck at the sight of him.
She curled her fists, digging her nails into the palm of her hands. He’d gotten
Zack into this. Crazy mother… “Detective Simpson, can you tell me about Zack?”

“Ms. Whitman. I don’t know
anything. He was shot. Twice. One in the shoulder and one in the side. There
working on him. Lost a lot of blood. Don’t worry, he’s tough. Let’s get coffee
and go on up.

Mo stared vacantly at the
blood all over his shirt and pants as he got two coffees out of a machine. She
felt as if she were in a dream. She couldn’t fly away in this one.

“He whined about coffee all
morning. Okay maybe just once. Follow me.” He held out a cup of coffee which
she just looked at. He set it down and led her to an elevator. They went up
several stories and exited the elevator just in time to see a surgeon coming
down the corridor pulling off a mask.

“How is he? What’s happening?
When can I see him?” She rushed the surgeon.

“He? I’m sorry I just did
Mrs. Canaria’s cataracts. Oh, you must mean the cop. Sorry, you family?”

Al flashed his badge. “She’s
family.”

“I don’t know much but they
had to give him a lot of blood. I heard them calling for more. I’m sorry I
can’t tell you anything else. Look, I gotta get lunch before my next surgery.
Go down the hall to the waiting room. I’ll tell the desk on my way that you’re
here. Holy shit its Mayor Tyler!”

 “Well, someone needs to
tell us something, for crying out loud.” Tyler was berating the nurse yet again
in his ‘Don’t you know who I am?’ tone of voice.

“I’m sorry but I don’t have
any information to give you. They’re working on him.”

Mo sat with her knees pulled
up to her chest and rocked in her chair. The nurse had gotten her a blanket
since she was obviously freezing in the air conditioning. They had also gotten
her some surgical booties since it was illegal for her to be in the hospital
without shoes. The mayor and Al had a tacit agreement to forego discussing what
had led them all there. Mo saw them exchange meaningful looks. It induced a
horrible dread in her. Man speak for what do we do with her if… was in their
eyes. Finally Tyler shuffled off to find the hospital administrator to make
demands of.

“So Chicago’s superhero,
retired. I hope you got what you wanted out of all this. Did you catch some bad
guys? Was it worth Zack’s life? He told me he thought you had a screw loose
when it came to drug dealers. How did you wind up in Greendale if you want to
catch dealers in Chicago? If Zack dies because of some fanatical obsession of
yours… It’s not even your jurisdiction is it? What gives you the right to drag
him off to something that’s not even in your jurisdiction? Can you just waltz
into this city and get into shootouts? What if he dies Simpson? It’ll be all
your fault because you had to be a hero. You should be trying to catch Ling’s
murderer instead of chasing drug dealers someplace you don’t even belong.” Mo
finally had to stop and catch a breath. She needed to lash out at someone and
this dislikable man seemed to be the one to blame. “You don’t like Zack, and he
made no secret of the fact that he doesn’t like you.  How do I know you
didn’t set him up?”

Al Simpson stared at the nondescript
shade of green on the wall behind Mo’s head. He seemed to have a range of
emotions rapidly display on his wide dark face. First disbelief, then anger
followed by a laugh that was partially a snort of disgust. He stared pensively
for a moment into his coffee cup. His voice was even. “Ms. Whitman, I know you
feel I was hard on you. I’m not gonna bullshit you, I thought, for a while, you
were the most logical. Yeah, Burnham and I never cared for each other. But then
we never had to work together. Let me tell you something…” he crushed the cup
and zinged it into a trashcan across the room.  “I didn’t drag him
anywhere. We had a common mission and we took action. We caught a killer. He’s
more than likely the one who killed Burnham’s partner. We took a lot of smack
off the street. Maybe we didn’t go entirely by the book, but even your
boyfriend could see we had to do what we did. Maybe you can’t understand that.
I think you have to be a cop to understand a cop. No, we don’t like each other.
But after today I think we respect each other. Can you respect who he is? He’ll
be putting his life on the line everyday once he’s back to work. Where will you
be? Nothing wrong with enjoying your selves but don’t even begin to think you
can understand who he is. What he is. When you’re off being a star again,
Burnham will be here. He’ll still be a cop.”

Mo stood and paced angrily.
Her emotions went from fear to anger and back again. She glared at Al every so
often as he sat expressionless. He sat still for her glares and questions and
insults each time they were renewed. He gave a resigned sigh and leaned back in
his chair. His sigh seemed to say, “Well, I’ve been reasonable.” She turned
toward him and was about to lay into him yet again when the mayor came into the
waiting room with a doctor in surgical scrubs. “How is he? Can I see him?” Mo
rushed to the doctor who looked at her with tired eyes.

“Mr. Burnham lost a lot of
blood.” His hand scratched bristles that looked a couple of days in the making.
“We removed a part of his clavicle where a bullet hit it after entering from
the outer back portion of his shoulder. Shattered that part. Just missed an
artery. He’s a very lucky man. Dr. Guiterrez, an orthopedic surgeon was just
about to leave. He put a plate and some screws in to support the clavicle but
Mr. Burnham may need more surgery when he’s recovered from the blood loss.
We’ll just have to see how it goes. This is going to take a while. The blood
loss was primarily from a deep flesh wound that ran up his side with the bullet
apparently ricocheting from his highest rib. The rib is fractured but not
shattered. The bullet was not found… Ms.…”

“Whitman,” Al put in. He had
come up behind Mo to listen.

“Ms. Whitman. It was a nasty
bleeder and needed a lot of stitches but he’s going to be fine. He’ll need some
physical therapy for that shoulder. Sorry to say there’s a good chance of
permanent nerve damage. A specialist is coming in later to take a look at him
but it’s hard to tell when his arm has been immobilized.

“Can I see him? Please let me
see him.” Mo was frantically looking over his shoulder as if Zack might
materialize there.

“He’s in recovery. Just a few
minutes. He’s not awake yet. He won’t be entirely lucid when he is. He needs
rest.”

“Thank you,” was all Mo could
manage before she zipped around him.

“Are you available to make a
statement to the press?” Tyler asked the doctor.  Al rolled his eyes and
watched Mo hurry toward recovery. “I’ll be talking to you, Simpson. There’s
some things we have to sort out.” Tyler called over his shoulder as he went in
the opposite direction.

Zack lay on the hospital bed
in recovery hooked up to various monitors. A sheet was pulled up to his waist.
Mo could see his entire torso was wrapped in bandages. His right arm, shoulder and
neck were elaborately bandaged together. Most of his upper body looked like he
was being costumed for a bad mummy movie. He lay still with his eyes closed.
His chest rose and fell. The monitors beeped. She approached his bed and looked
down at him while a nurse checked connections. He looked at her and said, “He’s
doing great. Lost a lot of blood but he talked and knows what’s going on. He’s
was asking for Mo.”

“I’m Mo. Is he unconscious
now?” Her eyes were large with fright.

“No, just sleeping. He’ll do
a lot of that until the drugs wear off. No vomiting. That’s good. It would hurt
like hell.” He finished his business and brought Mo a chair. He put the rail
down on her side of the bed. “Let me know when you’re going so I can put the
rail up.”

“Thanks.” She sat and took
Zack’s left hand. She wished she could lay with him or hold him or something.
Water filled her eyes as she looked at him. His skin was pale, almost gray. He
had a large bruise on his cheek and a large bandage on his temple. She looked down
at the hand she held. His knuckles were scraped. A bandage was wrapped around
the upper part of his thumb. “Jesus…What the hell happened to you.” She leaned
over and lightly kissed the top of his hand being careful of the scrapes. “I
think I love you, Zack,” she whispered. Tears rolled down her cheeks but she
forced herself to cry in silence.

Al Simpson watched Mo through
the glass doors. He could see Zack was indeed breathing. Tough son of a
bitch’ll be okay. I got work to do. He took a last look. This is the least of
Burnham’s troubles he thought looking at Mo, with what for him was a smile.

Mo sat quietly and since she
bothered no one and Zack was sleeping, no one bothered her. After some time her
eyes got heavy. Emotional exhaustion was taking its toll. Her head dropped. She
dreamed she walked high over a rushing river. She walked the thin edge of a red
silk banner that disappeared into the distance. She breathed in a deep cool
breathe that bolstered her self assurance. She could see sharp rocks in the river
far below. The sky was gray and drops began to fall on her face and shoulders.
Soon the rain fell hard and the wind blew. The banner swayed with the wind. The
banner became saturated and started to sag. It became harder to keep her
balance. She felt panic start to set in. She noticed the red dye running from
the banner. It ran as if bleeding and she realized it was bleeding. It was
turning to red liquid faster as it rained harder.  Somehow she was still
managing to stay astride the banner holding with her feet. Now the banner
sagged so low she could not go forward or go back. She knew she could hold on
only so long before she smashed onto the rocks. Her body would be swept down
the river, broken. She saw a spot that seemed clear of rocks. It seemed like a
pretty and calm spot where no red drops fell. She had no way of knowing how
deep it was. Would she die? Would it save her? She looked one way then the
other. She threw out her arms and sailed through the air.