Black Tie Event

Chapter Two

"Police," I'd called across the empty warehouse. "Show me your hands."

No hands had replied.

"There are officers surrounding the facilities," I'd called. "Drop your weapon, now."

Of course, I'd been the only one in there. The rest had been waiting for me outside, unable to hear me.

He'd come out of hiding then, shining gun in hand.

"I know all about you," he'd said.

"I'm going to ask you one more time to drop your weapon."

"Detective Hayden," he'd recognized. "Here to lock me up for life, just like the others, right?"

"I won't have to if you don't give me a reason."

"You won't have to if you're dead."

The rest I can't remember vividly, for my thoughts weren't lucid. I felt blinding pain tear through my abdomen, and it was all I could do to think straight enough to place both hands on the wound and press down as hard as I could. The next thing I knew, my two feeble hands turned into hands all over me, taking me up into a stretcher where I faded in and out of consciousness, one minute seeing the face of a trusted partner, the next seeing the ceiling of an ambulance, followed by countless periods of darkness.

When I'd finally woken up, I'd felt okay in the first minute. But then memory had started flowing back and I'd remembered where I was and how I'd gotten there, and if the bullet hadn't paralyzed me, the fear had for sure. Officers had waltzed in and out of the ER day after day, and each had had the same story: "I was so worried about you." "When I heard the shot, I didn't know what to think. We thought we'd lost you." "You know, the doctor says if that bullet had gone just an inch higher, this would be a completely different story. You're a lucky one, Kim." 

But none of their words could have mattered enough, because to each officer I'd asked the same question and each had given the same reply.

"No," they'd all said quietly, reluctant to even tell the truth. "We haven't found him yet."

***

"So..." Grace said as we both got ready in the morning. "Are we really just not going to talk about this?"

"Talk about what?" I asked absently, paying more attention to buttoning my shirt.

She put her dark hair up, bangs coming out casually. "Kim."

I turned to look at her, not getting it. "What?"

"You left me while we were making love."

I sighed. "I so hate that you still say 'making love.'"

"I think you're missing the point."

"Grace, I'm sorry, but the way I see it there really is no point. You know that I work for the police. You know that I need to be on call all the time."

"Am I not satisfying to you?"

"Believe me," I said, thinking back on the ecstasy that had been interrupted the night before. "That's definitely not it."

"Then what?"

"You know what," I persisted. "I don't know how many ways I can say it."

"It just seems like you don't even care."

"I care about you. But to be honest, it seems like I'm not the one who's unsatisfied here."

"What's that supposed to mean?"