Ching.
'Don't!' she shrieked.
But he was beyond noticing her, the people, the noise, the cop at his feet. His eyes, his whole concentration was right in front of him, his last angel.
April rolled one last time, aiming for his knees. She chopped him hard, then pulled him down. Kim was already toppling as he squeezed the trigger, firing off two more shots. Mike hurled himself on the two of them, reaching for the .38 as Kim tried to fire again.
'Get out of the way,' Mike barked at April.
But she wasn't going anywhere. The three grappled on the slippery floor, fighting like dogs. April panted, kicked, and slipped in somebody's dinner. Ice scuttled through puddles of wine and blood. She kicked again, aiming for a sensitive place. Kim was twisting, twisting away from them like a practiced mud-wrestler, grunting as he fought to keep his weapon. Mike had him down. Kim twisted out, lashing out with a handful of spaghetti. He threw the long hot strings in Mike's eyes. Mike swiped at his face and sprang to his feet, holding on to Kim's silk shirt.
Then Kim was up, still waving the gun, kicking back. Mike grabbed his arm and hauled it behind Kim's back. Kim howled but didn't drop the gun. It was aimed now at the back of his head. People were screaming, and now the sirens were wailing, too. Blood was all over April's face. She was soaked with it. She'd lost her sight and was losing her grip. But she fought on. She didn't want Kim firing the gun again. He twisted one last time, almost into her arms. As he turned, she punched him in the gut and the gun dropped out of his hand. April and Mike landed in a tangle on the floor, pinning their man just as a dozen officers from the Nineteenth Precinct arrived on the scene, responding to a second call, a third one, everyone with a cell phone calling in. Man with a gun, woman with a gun, officer down. They came.
Sixty-four
O
ne A.M. again. Tuesday, May eighteenth. Lenox Hill ER. Inventory. One brand-new powder blue pantsuit covered with blood and torn in five places. In other words, shot to hell. Likewise, one white blouse, not silk though, just linen blend. One well-loved leather jacket and contents of pockets, including several Rosario notebooks and cell phone. One pair of snakeskin cowboy boots. Trousers, formerly gray. Tie, indecipherable. Shirt, good, but bought on sale over two years ago. Still viable, two 9mm Glocks, one shoulder holster. One wallet with credit cards and driver's license. Two gold shields. One cop shot in the head who'd been removed from the scene in an ambulance at nine-thirty-seven P.M.
The nurses cleaned April up before a team of doctors came to look at her. That meant washing the blood out of her face and hair while not messing with the four-inch swath that oozed from her temple and the side of her head. She was awake enough to know that she was being handled by a lot of people, -her clothes were removed, and she had a headache worse than any migraine. She wanted Mike and Ching to know that she was all right. She wanted to go home, but she was seeing funny and she wasn't
going anywhere until everything was checked out. That was what they told her at eleven.
At midnight the hospital was alerted that the mayor was en route. After that, no way she was going to be released until they were through with her. If the mayor wanted a photo op with a fallen cop in a hospital gown, with some major hair loss and a huge bandage on her head, he would get it.
Night from hell. TV cameras don't roll anymore; the red light comes on and they record. The mayor was recorded with the police commissioner standing behind him as usual. Sergeant April Woo looked dazed in her hospital gown as she and Lieutenant Mike Sanchez received the city's official thanks. It wouldn't be aired tonight, but by morning the whole world would know that wedding guru Tang Ling, targeted by a deranged member of her own staff, had been saved by two of New York's finest.
At one-thirty-five April and Mike departed from the hospital wearing sweatsuits with the Lenox Hill logo. April's top was the zip-up kind with a hood, because nothing would go over her head. Somebody had driven the unmarked vehicle with her purse in it to the hospital. She was moved from the wheelchair into the backseat of it. She and Mike were being driven home. Mike got in beside her and cradled her in his arms.
he whispered as soon as they got under way.
Que tal?
The good side of April's head lolled against his chest.
that was Spanish, right?
'I almost lost you,' he murmured, kissing her bandage, her hand, whatever he could reach.
'Nah, bad shot,' she mumbled. She loved him so much it almost took her past the pain. Almost.
'Oh, baby.
'Uh-uh. No, you
she said, as if they were arguing about it.
Oh, God. She didn't feel good. She'd missed lunch and dinner. Again. Nausea rolled over her. Her head hurt. Her vision was impaired. Would he love her if she couldn't see? 'Where's Ching?' she mumbled.
'Matthew took her home.'
'She okay?' she asked five minutes later.
'Yeah, she's fine. How about you?'
She nodded off.
'Did they check the other gowns?' she asked, reviving for a second when they hit the bridge.
'For angels? Yeah, the lab picked it up right
away.'
'Could have told us sooner,' she muttered. Then, 'I love Ching.'
'I know you do,
He stroked her arm, her cheek. 'I love her, too.'
'I love my mom,' some minutes after that.
'I know you do.'
'You guys okay back there? The temp okay?' the driver asked. Somebody from the Nineteenth.
'Oh, yeah, everything's fine.' Mike gazed out the window. They were on the LIE. They'd already passed Astoria. He'd ordered some food and planned to take April home to his place. She was used to eating late at night. But he'd figured if she was too tired to eat, he'd just put her to bed. Now he wondered if
he ought to take her home to her mom, who must be worried sick.
'But I love you most,
You're my only home. I want to be with you forever.' She interrupted his thought. Her arms were around him. She was holding on dght. Her eyes were closed, but maybe she wasn't asleep.
'Is that a proposal?' Mike was surprised. They'd been through a lot, but he hadn't expected the gunshot wound to unscramble her brains.
'Uh-uh, that's your job. You have to get on your knees and give me a ring. That's the way it has to be.'
'Okay. I was saving up for a new car, but I can get a ring instead. What kind do you want?' He thought he'd better get it tomorrow before she changed her mind. But she didn't answer. She slept the rest of the way home.
Epilogue
After an intense family debate about her wedding gown, Ching Ma Dong finally decided to be married in a traditional Chinese suit of lucky red and gold, with a huge dragon on it. Her wedding to Matthew Tan at the Crystal Palace in Chinatown had nearly three hundred guests and went off without a hitch. Ching and Matthew said their vows over a microphone so everyone could hear them. Then the food and music began. By the fourth of twelve courses the guests, many of whom had flown in from California, were pie-eyed with happiness and too much
