Survivors shared a common ground. Their connection was rare and unique, sometimes misinterpreted and misunderstood, but almost always unexplainable to those who hadn't encountered identical fears.
Tiel had taken so long to answer that Doc repeated his question. "Why'd you come back?"
"For Sabra," she replied. "I was the only woman left. I thought she might need me. And…"
He raised his knees, propped his forearms on them and looked at her, waiting patiently for her to complete her thought.
"And I hate to start something and not finish it. I was here when it started, so I figured I should stick around until it's over."
It wasn't quite as simple as that. Her reason for returning was more complex, but she was at a loss to explain her multilayered motivation to Doc when even to her it was unclear. Why wasn't she out there doing a live remote, taking advantage of the extraordinary insight she had on this story? Why wasn't she recording a voice track to couple with the dramatic images Kip was getting on video?
"What were you doing out here?"
Doc's question roused her from her musings. "In Rojo Flats?" She laughed. "I was on vacation." She explained how she was en route to New Mexico when she heard of the so-called kidnaping on her car radio. "I called Gully, who assigned me to interview Cole Davison. On my way to
Hera I got lost. I stopped here to use the rest room and call Gully for directions."
"That's who you were talking to when I came in?"
Tiel's gaze sharpened on him, her expression inquisitive.
He raised his shoulder in a slight shrug. "I noticed you back there on the pay phone."
"You did? Oh." Their eyes connected and held, and it was an effort for her to break that stare. "Anyway, I concluded my call and was buying snacks for the road when… who should walk in but Ronnie and Sabra."
"That's a story in itself."
"I couldn't believe my good fortune." She smiled wryly.
"Be careful what you wish for."
"I am." After a beat of five, he added quietly, "Now."
This time it was she who waited him out, giving him the opportunity either to expound on his thought or to let the subject drop. He must have felt the same implied pressure from her silence that she had felt from him earlier, because he rolled his shoulders as though his burdensome reflections were resting on them.
"After I found out about Shari's affair, I wanted her to…" He faltered, began again. "I was so pissed, I wanted her to…"
"Suffer."
"Yeah."
The long sigh he released around the word evinced his relief over finally getting the confession off his chest. Confidences wouldn't come easily to a man like him who had dealt in life-and-death situations on a daily basis. To have the courage and tenacity to battle such a seemingly omnipotent enemy as cancer, there was surely a generous degree of the god complex in Bradley Stanwick's makeup.
Vulnerability, any sign of weakness, was incompatible with that personality trait. No, beyond incompatible. Intolerable.
Tiel was flattered that he had confessed a weakness, had revealed to her even a glimpse of this all-too-human aspect of himself. She supposed traumatic situations were good for that, too. Like a deathbed confession, he might be thinking this was the last chance he would have to unburden himself of the guilt he had carried over his wife's terminal illness.
"Her cancer wasn't punishment for her adultery," she argued gently. "It certainly wasn't your revenge."
"I know. Rationally and reasonably I know that. But when she was going through the worst of it-and, believe me, it was sheer hell-that's what I thought about. That I had subconsciously wished it on her."
"So now you're punishing yourself with this self-imposed banishment from your profession."
He fired back, "And you're not?"
"What?"
"Punishing yourself because your husband got killed.
You're doing the work of two people to make up for the industry loss created when he died."
"That's ridiculous!"
"Is it?"
"Yes. I work hard because I love it."
"But you'll never be able to do enough, will you?"
An angry retort died on her lips. She had never examined the psychology behind her ambition. She had never allowed herself to examine it.
But now that she'd been confronted with this hypothesis, she had to admit that it had merit. The ambition had always been there. She had been born with a type-A personality, was always an overachiever.
But not to the degree of the last few years. She pursued goals with a vengeance and took perceived failures hard.
She worked to the exclusion of everything else. It wasn't a matter of her career taking precedence over other areas of her life; it was her life. Was her mad, singular desire to succeed a self-inflicted penance for those few ill-chosen words spoken in the heat of anger? Was guilt her propellant?
They lapsed into silence, each lost in his own troubling thoughts, grappling with the personal demons they'd been forced to acknowledge.
"Where in New Mexico?"
"What?" Tiel turned to him. "Oh, my destination?
Angel Fire."
"Heard of it. Never been there."
"Mountain air and clear streams. Aspen trees. They'd be green now, not gold, but I hear it's beautiful."
"You hear? You haven't been there either?"
She shook her head. "A friend was lending me her condo for the week."
"You'd be there by now, all tucked in. Too bad you placed that first call to Gully."
"I don't know, Doc." She glanced at Sabra, then looked at him. Closely. Taking in every nuance of his rugged face.
Plumbing the depths of his eyes. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world."
The urge to touch him was almost irresistible. She did resist, but she didn't break eye contact. It lasted a long time, while her heart thudded hard and heavily against her ribs and her senses hummed with a keen, sweet awareness of him.
She actually jumped when the telephone rang.
Clumsily she scrambled to her feet, and so did Doc.
Ronnie grabbed the receiver. "Mr. Galloway?"
He listened for what seemed to Tiel an eternity. Again she curbed the impulse to touch Doc. She wanted to take his hand and hold on to it tightly, as people are wont to do when waiting to hear life-altering news.
Finally Ronnie turned to them and placed the earpiece against his chest. "Galloway says he's got the district attorney of Tarrant County, and whatever this county is, plus a judge, himself, and both sets of parents, agreed to meet and hammer this thing out. He says if I admit to wrongdoing and submit to counseling, maybe I'll get probation and not have to go to jail. Maybe."
Tiel nearly collapsed with relief. A small laugh bubbled from her throat. "That's great!"
"It's a good deal, Ronnie. If I were you, I'd grab it," Doc told him.
"Sabra, is that okay with you?"
When she didn't respond, Doc nearly knocked Tiel off her feet as he brushed past her and knelt beside the girl.
"She unconscious."
"Oh, God," Ronnie cried. "Is she dead?"
"No, but she's got to get help, son. And I mean fast."
Tiel left Sabra in Doc's care and moved toward Ronnie.
She was afraid that in his despair, he might yet turn the pistol on himself. "Tell Galloway you agree to the terms.
I'm going to cut the tape binding them," she said, gesturing to Cain, Juan, and Two. "Okay?"