You spend all your time waiting
For that second chance.
For a break that will make it OK.
There's always some reason
To feel not good enough,
And it's hard at the end of the day.
I need some distraction.
Oh, beautiful release.
Memory seeps from my veins.
Let me be empty,
Well, weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight.
In the arms of an angel&
May you find some comfort here.
Sarah McLachlan: 'Angel'
From the album: 'Surfacing'
Catherine pushed the right turn indicator on asshe approached the line of cars at curbside meters beside St.Ignatius' hospital. As usual, a parking space was not available.Catching Greg's eye in the side mirror of the nondescript gray vanabout midway up the row of vehicles, she made a 'shoo' gesture.Obligingly, Greg started his van's engine and pulled away. Catherinequickly tucked her brown sedan into the vacated spot. Shutting offthe engine, she reached over for the large take out coffee in the cupholder, settled her coat a bit more tightly against her neck, and satback to watch.
Stake out duty was about as boring as it got. Itwas Thursday night. As per the schedule, Catherine had arrived at6:30 to give Greg his dinner break. Joe would show up as her reliefin a few hours, and stay until about 2 a.m., when Greg would takeover again. Poor Greg. He must really be taking this case personally.By the time this was over the man would be a walking zombie - par forthe course as a New York detective, but still exhausting. Followingstandard procedure, Catherine turned off the car's interior light. Iffor some reason she had to open her door, no light would come on toannounce the fact to an observer. The delicious scents emanating fromthe deli bag on the passenger side floor were then dealt with, asCatherine reached in it to retrieve her dinner. Brother's deli madethe best smoked-meat sandwich in Manhattan, and if she had to sit ina cold car for three hours, she was going to at least enjoy hersupper.
As usual during the last week, when she was notconcentrating on her job, her thoughts strayed Below, to Vincent. Hehad been under sedation since Friday, six days ago. Throughout,Father had been keeping a sharp eye on his condition. It seemed as ifin these last couple of days he had been resting a bit easier, andFather had been able to significantly reduce the level of sedation.When she was near, Catherine was sure she could sense a tentativecalm from him. Physically, he did seem to be recovering. The darkcircles under his eyes had faded. Every night she had gone Below tobe with him, and the longer she spent in his presence the more sureshe became that this was the right thing to do.
'The moment of truth will be tomorrow,'Catherine thought with a touch of dread. Last night, Father hadinformed her he would administer the last sedative injection Fridaymorning. He predicted Vincent would awake sometime Friday evening,when Catherine could be there. Both agreed that one of the firstthings Vincent would want was to ensure that Catherine was unharmed.After that...
Slowly the hours dragged past. The eventual endof visiting hours combined with departing day shift workers freed upseveral of the parking spots to either side of her car. With nothingbut her thoughts for company, Catherine breathed a sigh of reliefwhen, promptly at 9:30, a dark blue station wagon pulled into thespot behind her sedan. Confirming identity in her rear-view mirror,Catherine was surprised to see Greg sitting beside Joe, who wasdriving the vehicle. Catching Greg's eye in the mirror, she raisedher eyebrows inquiringly. Grinning, Greg shrugged his shouldersinnocently, pointed at Joe, and mimed a baby crying. Beside him, Joepunched him in the shoulder
Laughing to herself, Catherine reached for thekeys in the vehicle ignition. Halfway there, her hands stopped. Theblue minivan that had been moving down the street towards her hadturned into the hospital loading dock and delivery area. Lowering herhands back to her lap, Catherine held her breath. Behind her, the twomen in the wagon also gave the van their complete attention.
As the van slowed, it turned and backed up to adelivery dock. The bay doors were lifted as the van stopped. A figurein the driver's seat, dimly seen via the low interior light, turnedand went into the rear of the van. Nothing but vague shadows could bediscerned for several minutes. As Catherine continued to try to makeout what was happening, her eye caught a faint movement along theside of the descending ramp entry. Glancing in the mirror again tosee if Joe and Greg had picked up on this, she saw that the wagon wasempty and the passenger door stood ajar. Turning to refocus on thearea of the movement, a stray light from an overhead streetlightrevealed it to be Greg, inching in a stealthy crouch towards thedelivery area. On the opposite side, Catherine saw Joe creepingbehind one of the large dumpsters for hospital trash.
Catherine reached into her purse and removed thesmall handgun that she had brought with her. Experience had shownthat such precautions, although unfortunate, were sometimesnecessary. This could be one of those times. She moved to thepassenger side of the car, carefully unlatched the door, and slid outto the pavement. Crouching down, Catherine crept along the side ofthe car to its rear. Using the parked cars as cover, she made her waydown the street away from the hospital. Pausing to listen intentlyand scan the street, she took the gamble that she could crossunnoticed. The overhead street lamps gave plenty of light, and hernight-adapted eyes enabled her to move through the shadows carefullybut confidently. Approaching Joe from behind, she made enough of ascuff with one foot to catch his attention, so she did not startlehim into sudden movement or noise when she approached.
"Joe!" She hissed quietly. "What are you doing?Are you crazy?"
"No, but he is,"Joe whispered back, indicating with a slight tilt of his head Greg'sgeneral direction. Catherine noted the police issue semi-automaticpistol held tightly in Joe's hands. "I told him to stay put, but hecouldn't see a damn thing from the car. He wants a definitive ID."Both sets of eyes tensely monitored Greg's halting progress along theshadowed wall as he slowly crept closer to the dark van.
"He's going to get himself killed!"
Taking a deep breath Joe softly replied, "I'vegot to cover him." Silently, he slipped around the edge and beganmaking his own way along the opposite wall.
"Joe - no!"Catherine softly commanded, to no avail.
Catherine's position did not allow her to trackJoe's progress, and within a few steps Greg was also out of view.Nerves taut as wire, and with a brief prayer that Vincent would beunaware of this situation, she also moved forward. Finding a deepshadow where she could again provide backup for her friends, shechecked their progress. Joe was crouched just a few feet away fromher, focused on the faintly discernable activity behind the van. Greghugged the wall, carefully moving step-by-step closer to hisgoal.
Catherine drew in a breath of alarm only momentsbefore Greg's right foot struck a stray soda can. A woman's shoutfrom behind the van tipped off the fact that someone had heard thenoise and spotted Greg. Breaking his crouch, Greg ran for the coverof a nearby dumpster. Catherine heard a muffled thump and noted asmall flash of light from the van area as Greg was thrown to hishands and knees on the hard cement. They were using a silencer.
"Greg!" Joe shouted. The relative quiet of thenight was shattered as the pistol in Joe's hands barked, sending awild shot in the direction of the van. With a roar, the van's enginecame to life. Tires screamed as the accelerator was floored, and thevehicle lurched forward. The headlights momentarily spotlightedGreg's scrambling form as he desperately hauled himself out of thecenter of the ramp toward Joe and Catherine.
Adrenaline screamed through her system asCatherine ducked, sensing more than hearing the gusts of air asseveral bullets whined overhead, striking the wall behind her.Concrete cracked, sending slivers and small pebbles to strike her inthe back and head, the sound drowned in the roar of the van's engineas it rocketed past.
Hands! Someone grabbed her from behind, pullingher down! Pain, as the hands dug into her still tender back! A redrage of panic and anger flashed through Catherine, fueled by herrecent abduction and near death. Shaking off the bruising grip,reflexively Catherine whirled and struck back. Rising to gain theadvantage of height, using her weight to intensify the blow, shestruck viciously downwards, fingernails scoring against flesh. A wildintense moment of satisfaction rippled across the curtain of rage asshe raised her hands again to repeat the blow.
"Whoa! Cathy! Back off! Easy! It's OK!"
Blinking, Catherine focused on the man on theground before her.
Using her second's hesitation, Joe scrambledbackwards from where Catherine had flung him to the ground. "They'regone, Radcliffe. Relax. We're OK. Everything's OK." His calm soothingtones radiated reassurance as cautiously, not taking his eyes offher, Joe rose to his feet. When Catherine did not move, he turned andhurried over to where Greg lay still on the concrete.
Catherine felt a wave of weakness as the panicrush subsided. Turning, she sagged against the concrete, breathing indeep gusting pants as slowly, one by one, her tense muscles began torelax. Dimly she heard Joe screaming for a doctor. Catherine gaveherself a mental shake and pushed herself away from the wall. Joemight need her help. A heavy iron smell flooded her senses as shelifted her hands to push the hair from her eyes. Pausing for amoment, Catherine turned slightly towards the light. The fingers ofher right hand were tipped with blood.
The noise of an onrushing medical team caughther attention and, raising her eyes, she saw several people clusteredaround Greg's prone form. Carefully they maneuvered him onto astretcher and began to carry him towards the hospital. Joe stoodseveral feet away, not interfering with the medical personnel. Almostwithout volition, her eyes were drawn to Joe's neck, where four neatparallel scratch marks seeped red into the spreading stain on hisshirtfront.
"Thought you might want some fresh stuff." Joe'swarm voice settled over Catherine as she lifted her head from hercontemplation of the Styrofoam cup of coffee held between her hands.Once Greg and Joe had been taken off for medical attention, she hadheaded to the hospital cafeteria, stopping only to cleanse her handsin the ladies room. She had been waiting here for news for almost anhour. Reaching to pluck the cup from her hands, Joe eased a new hotcup into its spot. Setting his own down, he nabbed an extra chairfrom the next table and settled in across from her.
Catherine's gaze dropped to Joe's neck as arenewed wave of shame swept over her. The cuts had stopped bleeding,and a bit of discoloration around them indicated that the obligingmedical staff had probably disinfected them. Not raising her eyes,Catherine quietly spoke. "I'm sorry, Joe." Dipping her head andrefocusing on the steaming cup, she shook her head slightly. "Ididn't mean to..." Taking a deep breath, she attempted to refocus."Have you heard anything yet? About Greg?"
"They're not saying much." Worry lined Joe'sface as he contemplated his friend's condition. "He's been shot inthe abdomen. They're operating on him now. Since he was able toreceive medical attention so quickly, they are prettyoptimistic."
Catherine winced at that phrase. "Cautiouslyoptimistic," had been used to describe her father's condition. "Well,I suppose we should be grateful. I mean, if he had
Joe chuckled at Catherine's comment. "Yeah, I'llhave to figure out a way to rib him about that. Listen, in thescramble we haven't taken the time to think about this as a case.Good instincts, by the way, in picking this up. Did you see anything?Get the license number of the van? I couldn't see a thing, it waspretty dark back there."
Casting her mind back, Catherine rememberednoting the plate number and recited it to Joe. "Hey, good eyes," hecommented as he scribbled the number down on one of the paper napkinsfrom the container on the table. "Did you see any of the peopleenough for a description."
Catherine shook her head. "No. I did see whenthey shot Greg. They must have had a silencer on the gun; I thought Iheard a light thump. I think I saw the muzzle-flash too."
Joe mumbled a low comment about the probableancestry of the shooter. Excusing himself briefly, he made a quickcall to begin the license number trace. Returning, he slowly easedinto his seat. "I'll say one thing for you, you're a lot tougher thanyou look. Those self-defense lessons are worth every penny you paidfor them."
"You're sure you're OK?" Catherine slowly asked,as her eyes once again were drawn to the eerily familiar marks onJoe's neck.
"It's alright, I'll live," Joe saidreassuringly, with a smile. "I've got a bruise on the butt and a fewscratches. I've gotten worse trying to fix my car." Joe examinedCatherine carefully as her eyes dropped guiltily. "Can you tell mesomething? Why do I have the feeling this is bothering you a lot morethan me? Do you want to talk about what happened back there?"
"I.... don't know. I was scared, and you grabbedme... It brought everything back. All the times that I've beenattacked came to the surface. I guess I just lost it. I panicked, andjust& reacted."
Joe reached forward and took Catherine's handcomfortingly. "Hey, buddy, cut yourself some slack. You've beenthrough a lot lately. You can't tell me the problem with that nutcasewho tried to drown you in his car doesn't have some bearing on thiseither." At the quicksilver flash of remembered terror cut across hisfriend's face, he tried to lighten the moment with some humor. "Hey,are you sure that after you got out of the trunk of that car youdidn't take after him like you did me?" he teased lightly, indicatingthe marks on his throat.
Catherine tensed. Once Joe had reassured himselfthat she was OK, a few days later she had had to face a room full ofquestioners regarding that incident. The body of her stalker had beenfound in the lake the next day, with his throat slashed open.Truthfully, she hadn't had to lie to them very much. She reallyhadn't seen the man beingkilled. When asked about her rescuer, she simply said that she wasunconscious until shortly before the police came. Joe had rememberedthe blanket she had been wrapped in, but she told them she had thrownit away that night because it brought up such horrible memories. Inregards to the stalker's death, drowning had been ruled out. A largeblood smear had been discovered on shore near the car. Furtherchecking had shown that the majority of blood had soaked into theearth, and the volume indicating the victim had probably bled todeath before being dumped. The investigators had reached a dead endfairly quickly. Truth be told, Catherine enjoyed a large volume ofrespect from the law enforcement community. Discovering the identityof the killer, who had most probably been her rescuer, was not givena very high priority. Oh, surely this wouldn't dredge up thatincident again?
"Hey!"
Catherine snapped out of her reverie at Joe'sloud exclamation. Suddenly, she realized that the table was drippingwet. The Styrofoam cup was clenched, crumpled, in her fist. Hotcoffee dripped off Joe's hands as he grabbed some napkins from thedispenser and began trying to mop up the spreading liquid. HurriedlyCatherine released the cup, grabbed some napkins herself to help, andshortly nothing but a pile of sodden brownish paper remained of themess.
Joe watched Catherine closely as she swept thesoaked napkins onto a tray and carried them to the trash receptacleacross the room. Tension was in her every step, her usual naturalgrace sublimated. 'Maybe it was too soon to put her back intoinvestigations after all,' he mused silently. The stress must bepretty severe if it was enough to make her unconsciously crush a cup,let alone attack a friend in blind panic. If he didn't know better,Joe would give credence to thinking he heard a faint growl from hisfriend on both occasions.
Catherine disposed of the trash and, leaving thetray on top of the receptacle, began to make her way to the table. Asshe approached however, she noted a young nurse standing in thedoorway of the coffee shop. Several seated persons all seemed tocollectively hold their breath as the nurse examined faces, obviouslylooking for someone. Spying Joe, the nurse made her way purposefullytowards him. Around the room, others who awaited word of friends orfamily realized they were not the ones being sought, and resignedlyresumed their various activities. Catherine increased her pace, toarrive at the table with the nurse.
"Mr. Maxwell?"
Joe nodded quickly in confirmation, and rose tohis feet.
"Dr. Morneau would like to speak to youregarding Mr. Hughs' condition. Would you come with me, please?" Thenurse turned and led Joe and Catherine to a nearby small meetingarea, where a dark skinned man in a white lab coat waited.
"Dr. Morneau?" Joe inquired. At the doctor'sconfirmation, he blurted out "How's Greg? Will he be all right?"
"Yes, from all indications he's going to befine. The bullet missed most of the major organs, and we've been ableto repair what was damaged fairly well. He won't be up and around fora while though. This kind of internal damage is the kind that takeslongest to heal. But, barring complications, he should be as good asnew in a couple of months." Joe sat back with a sigh of relief. Aftera few more questions, they thanked the doctor for his efforts.Catherine checked her watch as they left the hospital. Twelveforty-five a.m.
"Radcliffe, I don't want to even see your facein the office tomorrow until 10 o'clock. And that's just going to beto sign some papers regarding this incident. Then you'll take therest of the day off."
Catherine drew in a breath and turned toJoe.
"Don't you dare!" He spoke softly, looking herright in the eye. "Don't you dare tell me that it's not necessary. Itis
Catherine released the objection she had beenabout to voice. In all honesty, regardless of feeling she shouldobject, this would be a welcome break after the tension of the lastfew hours. Besides, having the afternoon off would make it easier tobe there for Vincent when he woke up.
"OK."
"OK? That's it? No objections?" The astonishmentin Joe's voice was obvious.
"No objections."
Joe stood looking flummoxed for a few moments."OK then. Well... I guess I'll see you tomorrow." Standing beside hercar he waited for her to get in and lock the doors. As Catherinepulled away, he returned to his station wagon, shaking his head.'Just when you think you have a woman figured out...'
For a moment Catherine thought Father's chamberwas empty. In reality, this shouldn't surprise her. By the time shehad returned to her apartment and headed below, it was after halfpast one in the morning. Still, it had always seemed that, whateverthe time, Father was always present in this room. Just as she wasabout to turn and go she heard a grinding noise. Directing herattention to the desk in the corner, she saw Father dozing over alarge book. A definite snore issued from his bent head. Catherinecouldn't help but smile to herself. Undoubtedly Father was appalledat the very idea that he snored; it was not at all dignified.
Well, she couldn't just leave him there. Hemight be sleeping soundly, but morning would find him most likelyunable to straighten up after spending the night in that posture.Quietly she crossed the room. Placing her hand on his shoulder, shegently shook him. "Father. Father, wake up." With a snort Fatherstraightened. Momentarily he was unsure of his surroundings, butreality arrived in a couple of seconds. Catherine stood beside him,smiling softly. "Oh! There you are. I was waiting. You're awfullylate, aren't you?" Pushing his spectacles further up his nose, Fatherturned to glance at the large clock beside the desk "My good heavens!It's almost two o'clock in the morning! What the devil were you...?Never mind. I don't think I want to know." Father reached out to pickup his cane and came to his feet. "Have you checked on Vincentyet?"
"No, I wanted to talk to you first. How was hetoday?"
"As well as can be expected. Strangely, heseemed to become very agitated around nine thirty this evening, butonly for a minute or two." Pausing, he lifted his eyebrowquestioningly at the lovely young woman before him. Father thought hecaught a look of guilt before she bent her head, hiding her facebehind her fall of soft brown hair. 'Humph. Wonder where she pickedup that particular trick,' Father thought ironically. "Other thanthat, no change. I'll give him his last injection in a few hours.Now, you look dead on your feet. Run along to bed."
Catherine lifted her head, a spark of mischiefin her eyes. Turning to leave, she cast over a parting comment. "Onlyif you do the same. You're much too dignified to snore in your officechair."
Watching Catherine walk up the three stairs tothe chamber exit, Father almost sagged in relief. Better she wasrelaxed enough to tease him than brittle with apprehension. "Icertainly do not
Catherine chuckled quietly as she overheardFather's rebuttal. It wasn't very nice, but she just couldn't resista little teasing poke now and then. It was good for him, kept himfrom getting too pompous. Entering Vincent's chamber, dark except forthe faint glow of the constantly burning candle behind the stainedglass window, she shed her clothes quickly. No matter how manybraziers burned in the high ceilinged chamber, it always seemed cold.Tugging on her warm tunnel gown, she crawled into bed.
Although she knew she was exhausted, Catherinewas reluctant to sleep. Shifting onto her left side, she curledagainst Vincent's sleeping form. He lay on his back, covers displacedfrom her movement. Tenderly, she reached up and re-tucked the quiltsaround his neck. Temptation beckoned, and with only a token thoughtto resistance she gave in. Her fingers itched to explore his relaxedfeatures. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a black thought surfacedthat this might be the last time she ever had the chance to doso.
How she loved the fur on his nose! GentlyCatherine ruffled it back and forth with the tips of her fingers. Itwas soft and silky to her touch, just like that on his ears. Vincentsnorted softly, wrinkling his nose in unconscious response, bringinga gentle smile of amusement to her lips. Rising up on her elbows, shebent over to place a light kiss on the tip of that nose. Her fingerswandered to his lips. On either side of the cleft, the protrudingmuzzle-like pads hid the thin smooth upper lip beneath. His lower lipwas much fuller and soft as well. Using her hands to turn his faceslightly, she pressed a warm, open-mouthed kiss to them. "Good night,my love," she said softly. Settling against his warmth, slowly shedrifted off.
Catherine awakened abruptly. All was still. Thepipes were silent, it was still night. Puzzled, she peered about thechamber to see what had disturbed her, but all seemed completelynormal. Settling back down, her eyes popped open again. That was it!Through the bond she could feel the strangest sensation. An almostphysical warmth, like sunlight. Concentrating fiercely, she narrowedher focus, blocking out all senses but those directed inward. Throughthe warmth she felt a slow, rhythmic thumping.
Catherine's eyes opened slowly as realizationdawned, bringing a bright smile of delight to her face. Vincent hadtold her once that he had a sense of her own heartbeat. In truth,Catherine had felt their bond growing stronger in her the closer sheand Vincent became, but to feel this! Inexplicably, a sense of hopedawned in her heart. If the bond was continuing to strengthen, maybethere was a purpose to it. Perhaps all was not lost after all.
Snuggling back into the curve of Vincent's arm,which had somehow during sleep moved to hold her against him, sheeventually drifted off. And in that sweet sleep, unnoticed, theregular, rhythmic beat Catherine's heart had maintained for overthirty years gradually began to slow, as if seeking to match exactlythe rhythm of its counterpart.