Both men considered these questions in silence and waited.
County Sheriff’s detectives conducted their investigation. The meticulous process began with photos of the exterior of the house, and worked slowly inward to the scene.
Gio and Ridgeway stood by uncomfortably.
“I wonder if he left a note,” Gio pondered, but Ridgeway didn’t answer.
1445 hours
Hospital. Kopriva recognized the antiseptic smells and the subdued, bustling sounds. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Light streamed through his window, warm sunshine on his face.
It felt good.
He tilted his head slightly. Katie sat at his bedside. Tired worry lines creased her face, but they washed away when she smiled at him.
He smiled back, realizing then that she still held his hand.
“Hey,” he croaked and tried to smile.
“Hey,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “You gave me quite a scare, Stef.”
“Scared me, too.” His throat went dry. He thought about asking for some water, but wanted to look at her a moment longer.
She met his gaze and smiled with warm eyes.
1516 hours
“Blood pressure?” The doctor asked, knowing he was losing this one. The patient had already endured a surgery earlier in the day, which had been successful enough to keep him from dying immediately. This second surgery was supposed to keep him from dying at all.
The nurse’s answer confirmed what he knew. Too much damage. In the kidney and in the liver, shards of metal were everywhere.
He stepped away from the patient, listening to the long moments between beeps on the heart monitor turn into a steady tone. He sighed as he removed his gloves.
“Time?”
“1517,” responded a nurse.
“Note it. And turn that monitor off.”
The doctor silently cursed guns, bullets and those who manufactured them. He remained silent as he slipped off the bloody latex gloves and threw them away. He didn’t know what religion Isaiah Morris adhered to, if any, but he had no wish to profane the moment of the man’s exit from this world.
1637 hours
“Is that all, then?” Ridgeway asked the detective.
“Yeah, just lock the front door for us and we’re done.” The detective held several paper bags of evidence taken from inside the house. “Listen, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
The County detective left. Ridgeway locked the front door and turned to face Giovanni.
“I have to put the keys on property,” the older officer said.
“Okay.”
“You want to meet me at Duke’s afterwards?”
“Definitely,” Gio answered, nodding.
“See you there, then.”
1708 hours
Katie’s lips pressed lightly against Kopriva’s temple. He closed his eyes and soaked in the softness and warmth of her lips and the slight scent of sweat and vanilla on her skin. When he heard footsteps and the rustle of a curtain, his eyes snapped open.
Katie started in surprise and pulled her head away. Kopriva glanced at her and saw her cheeks flush.
The nurse only smiled.
“That is the best medicine I know of, girl,” she told them. “Love, love, love.”
THIRTEEN
Friday, September 2nd, 1994
1916 hours
End of Tour
Johnny poured three quick shots and lifted them onto Rachel’s tray. The atmosphere at Duke’s was familiar, but he noticed a strange buzz in the crowd. By now, Johnny had heard about Poole and he imagined the sergeant’s death had something to do with the way patrons were acting. Some of the regulars knew, too, and they sat and conversed quietly, leaving the cops alone as they entered.
Chisolm had come first, taking a spot at the end of the bar. Johnny knew his drink and brought it without being asked. He noticed that Chisolm seemed neither depressed nor jovial and wondered if the man ever reached the depths of either emotion.
Ridgeway and Giovanni came in next and forwent their usual table to join Chisolm at the bar. Johnny served them as well, again asking no questions. In contrast to Chisolm, both men seemed solemn.
When Katie MacLeod, Matt Westboard and Will Reiser arrived, the group moved to the large table in the corner. Johnny kept Rachel busy bringing them drinks and wished he hadn’t sent the new girl home for the day.
“Johnny!” Ridgeway’s barked from across the room, his voice slightly slurred. “I want you to meet the man who captured the notorious Scarface Robber.” He paused a moment, then continued. “Wait a minute. You didn’t catch him, did you, Tom? You killed him. Sorry.” The group laughed.
Ridgeway turned back to the bartender. “Never mind, Johnny.”
Johnny was used to the gallows humor. He smiled and waved from behind the bar.
Chisolm shook his head. “You’re just jealous,” he told Ridgeway, setting up his favorite joke.
“Why?” Ridgeway played into the old line, even though he’d heard it dozens of times. “Because I don’t have to get grilled by IA and then sued by that scumbag robber’s family?”
“No. You’re jealous because I get to eat your wife but not her cooking.”
The group broke up in laughter and ooohs. Other patrons listened now and laughed at Chisolm’s line.
“You ate my wife?” Ridgeway asked in mock anger.
Chisolm winked and took a sip of his beer.
“Really?” Ridgeway asked. “How’d I taste?”
Everyone laughed even louder, and Chisolm laughed with them, conceding. He could not top that.
1928 hours
The doctor stood at Kopriva’s bedside. “You will have some loss of strength and range of motion, as I’ve explained. Particularly in your left arm. You might reach sixty to sixty-five percent mobility with therapy.”
“What about the knee?”
“Thanks to sports medicine, we can do a lot to repair knees.” The doctor glanced at his clipboard. “You won’t be running Bloomsday or the Boston Marathon, but you’ll walk, albeit with a limp.”
“Will I be able to return to duty?”
“As a patrol officer?” The doctor pressed his lips together and considered. “I can’t say for sure. I’d have to see how you respond to treatment and therapy. Then I’d need to get a better idea of the exact physical requirements for your position.”
“Sounds like a no,” Kopriva said.
The doctor shook his head. “Not at all. Let’s just wait and see how things work out. All right?”
“How long do I have to stay here?” Kopriva asked him.
The doctor shrugged. “Another week. Maybe two. I want you completely stabilized and make sure there’s no infection before we let you go home. We’ll know more in a few days.”
Kopriva nodded and the doctor left.
He took a deep breath and let it out, already anticipating the storm that waited for him after he healed. The Monday-morning quarterbacks would pad up and dissect his every move. They’d wanted to do so with Winter, but had kept it to themselves out of respect for the dead. Kopriva lived, so he would be fair game. He’d already heard rumblings about his actions in Winter’s death, so he figured the second-guessers would have a field day with him on this one.
He took another deep breath and exhaled. He’d deal with that when it happened. For now, he found himself looking forward to Katie’s visit later that afternoon.
2056 hours