One of the MPs, a guy named Trey, places his hand on my shoulder. “You all right, man?”
“Yeah.” I point at the ambulance that holds my best friend. “I need to follow them.”
“Come to the station as soon as you can. We need to make a formal report.”
“Sure.” I nod once. Sliding into our patrol vehicle, I realize the car’s been running all this time. It’s probably overheated, but I’ll worry about that shit another day.
My mind is all over the place when there’s a knock on the driver’s side window. It’s my captain. Pressing the window button, it lowers quickly. “Sir.”
“I called Becky.”
Fuck. Ben’s wife. How could I have forgotten to do that? “Thank you, sir.”
“Penny’s heading over to their place to watch the kids.” Penny’s the captain’s wife. Nice lady. “I’ve sent Bridges over to pick up Becky. She shouldn’t be driving.”
He’s right. She shouldn’t drive. Having one of our Noobs take that responsibility is the right thing to do. “Good plan, sir.”
“Meet you at the hospital.”
“Yes, sir.” As I pull out behind the ambulance, I hear their siren come to life. I do the same. My body feels numb, but my brain is the opposite as I race down the road behind the ambulance. As we head for the trauma center on-post, my thoughts are on Ben, his wife, and his young family. What if he doesn’t make it? What will happen to them?
It’s possible. He lost a lot of blood and he never came to while they were working on him. He’s alive—at least there’s that.
“Fuck.” All these years, hell, we were in a fucking war zone, and he never got wounded. Now, we’re home and some asshole with a handgun in a shoppette takes him down. I press on the gas to get to Ben faster.
He’s got to make it.
ChapterEighteen
Matilda
I’m on a mission.I’ve made my way from home across town to my aunt and uncle’s place to see what I can find out about Vicky and Anthony. Raising my hand to knock on the front door of their high-rise condominium, I nearly drop the Bundt cake I’ve made when it opens suddenly.
“Matilda,” my uncle says with a smile. “This is a nice surprise.”
“Hey, Uncle Chuck.” I smile wide. “I was in the neighborhood and thought you might be hungry for Mom’s famous Bundt cake.” Uncle Chuck adored my mom’s cooking, especially this cake.
“Tunnel of fudge?” he asks, licking his lips. “I haven’t had that since….”
Since my mom died. “Well, I found her recipe in the box and remembered how much you loved it.”
“Hot damn. Yes.” He stands aside. “Come on in, honey.” I pass him at the door and pause in the foyer. “But you didn’t need to feed me to visit. You’re always welcome. A sight for sore eyes is what you are. You look more like your mom every day. How’ve you been?”
Wow, that was a lot. I heard that from several people at the wedding—the part about looking like my mom, except they’re wrong. My mom was girl-next-door beautiful. I’m sort of the girl-down-the-block okay. “Good.”
“How’s work?”
“Fine.” I shrug, then sigh a little. I hate my job. Bothering people on the phone is the worst kind of hell. Most people are nice about it, but there are plenty jerks in the world.
“You ready to come work for me?”
I snort. “You’re retired.”
“Semi-retired.” Uncle Chuckle chortles. Honestly, I doubt he’ll ever quit working entirely. He loves the hardware business. “I stopped working at the stores, but I’ve still got my hand in the business. I can always put in a good word for you.”
Growing up, my aunt and uncle owned a hardware store not far from my house in Oak Park. They own several now.
“We need good help. It’s true what they say, it’s hard to find. Example, we need a manager at the Skokie location.”
