White Night

Chapter 58

Connors was relieved to see Ross back at his desk the next morning. A white pad peeked above the neck of the polo-neck shirt he was wearing under his sports jacket. They almost matched today, a polo shirt covering the bruises on her own neck from Nikolai's strangulation attempt.

The jokes hadn't started yet, but a bite on his neck and bruises on hers would provide a lot of laughs for her colleagues, those that hadn't yet heard about Grinair.

She'd visited Mrs. Weston on the way into the precinct, informing her that they'd caught her son's killer and that Nikolai had died in custody last night. NYPD would charge the other inmate with Nikolai's murder and try and get him to roll on the Romanos, but if her case had been uphill, that one was Everest.

Mrs. Weston's reaction was sadly typical. Initially, a small beam of life returned to her eyes, which quickly faded as she realized that while she had some form of closure, she would still never again have her son.

Even with her last case, Connors still had to tackle the mountain of paperwork, but first she needed coffee. The department had three coffee pots: regular, decaf, and the defibrillator. Made by Sergeant Withers, it was guaranteed to keep you awake for hours. Foul tasting but effective, it would jolt her back to life this morning after another night's sleep broken by nightmares and flashbacks.

The Argon case file still called to her from across the squad room. It hurt her to leave without helping to save the last two children, but what could she offer that everyone else wasn't already doing? Sheer determination wasn't enough anymore. Physical fitness, mental sharpness, and confidence were needed, and she was running out of all three. Spending half the night icing her knee and the morning getting enough food into her stomach to cope with the pain pills without hurling wasn't going to carry her for the rest of her career. She'd pulled a gun on her partner, ratted out a fellow officer, and barely got enough details out of her suspect in time to prevent a tragedy, and not in time for one BDU tech.

Detective Banner burst through the door. "Connors, did you hear?"

She spun round quickly, grabbing the edge of her desk to steady herself. "What?"

"Mrs. Weston just had a heart attack. Paramedics are there now."

No, no, no, no. When Connors had left, Mrs. Weston was fine. Her friend was still with her, and Maria was looking after the shop. She'd made sure the elderly woman wasn't left alone after she told her the news.

There was nothing to say as Ross guided the car through the city streets. As they sped briefly where possible and crept through the intersections, the siren wails reflected her anguish at the thought of Mrs. Weston's broken heart not being able to take any more.

When they arrived, a fire truck, ambulance, and a cruiser blocked the coffee shop. Curious onlookers milled around the café with their cell phones aimed at the door. Uniform was pushing people back as Ross flashed his shield and practically bulldozed two stubborn civilians out of the way.

Mrs. Weston lay on a gurney and, for a horrifying moment, it appeared she'd already passed, until her tiny hand moved to grip the blanket placed over her.

Connors walked to her.

"Are you okay, Mrs. Weston?" She crouched down to the older woman's level as her knee creaked perilously.

Mrs. Weston looked at her, but her eyes were vacant in shock.

"Mrs. Weston, are you okay?" she asked more urgently.

A hand snapped out and took Connors' hand as Mrs. Weston pulled her closer.

"Amanda called. I'm going to be a grandmother, Detective."

Mrs. Weston looked like a little girl, her eyes sparking with life above a gaping smile.

Connors smiled back. "That's wonderful."

"Yes. It's also what prompted the heart attack," smiled one of the paramedics as he checked the monitors and tightened the safety straps over his patient.

"Amanda's going to stay with me for a while," Mrs. Weston added.

It wouldn't make up for the loss of her son, not even close, but it was something to keep moving forward for—a reason to put one foot in front of the other.

Freeing her hands, Connors pulled the blanket up further and tucked it down over Mrs. Weston's shoulders.

Maria arrived and wrapped her arm protectively around Mrs. Weston, glaring at Connors again. She glared back this time.

Ross was still talking to one of the uniformed officers when he stepped back quickly in surprise.

Releasing Mrs. Weston to Maria's care, Connors approached Ross. "What was the news?"

"The Mediterranean man who tried to enter the shop last night, the one the FBI took down, was Celso Romano."

"Don Romano's only son," she replied. "Nikolai tried to take him out at the same time and would've succeeded if McAvoy hadn't gotten him out of there."

The paramedics wheeled Mrs. Weston to the ambulance with Maria in tow as Ross and Connors assisted with gawker-wrangling.

As Connors started back toward the car, her phone sprang to life.

"Connors," she answered before checking the number.

"Detective Connors, just checking in. Is Mrs. Weston okay?"

Crap, it was Reyes. She wanted to hand her captain the letter and leave, avoiding the pointless discussions filled with words like wise decision and wish you luck.

"She's okay, ma'am, just shock."

"Good to hear. Get back to the precinct. I need to talk to you now."