'Of course it hurts,' she said. 'You know what it feels like?'
'What?'
'It feels like getting punched in the face.'
Patrick laughed. 'Touche.'
'On the other hand, there's no feeling I can think of like the one you get from decking your opponent. God help me, I love that part.'
'So, do you know it when you land it?'
'The knockout punch?'
'Yes.'
'Oh yeah,' Jessica said. 'It's just like when you catch a baseball on the fat part of the bat. Remember that? No vibration, no effort. Just… contact.'
Patrick smiled, shaking his head as if to concede that she was a hundred times braver than he. But Jessica knew this wasn't true. Patrick was an ER physician, and she couldn't think of any job tougher than that.
What took even more courage, Jessica thought, was that Patrick long ago stood up to his father, one of the most renowned heart surgeons in Philadelphia. Martin Farrell had expected Patrick to pursue a career as a cardiac surgeon. Patrick grew up in Bryn Mawr, attended Harvard Medical School, did his residency at Johns Hopkins, the path to stardom all but furrowed in front of him.
But when his kid sister Dana was killed in a Center City drive-by shooting, an innocent bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time, Patrick decided to devote his life to working as a trauma physician at an inner-city hospital. Martin Farrell all but disowned his son.
It was something Jessica and Patrick shared-a career selecting them, as a result of a tragedy, instead of the other way around. Jessica wanted to ask how Patrick was getting along with his father now that so much time had passed, but she didn't want to open any old wounds.
They fell silent, listening to the music, catching each other's eyes, mooning like a pair of teenagers. A few cops from the Third District stopped by with congratulations for Jessica, drunkenly shadowboxing their way to the table.
Eventually, Patrick brought the conversation around to work. Safe territory for a married woman and an old flame.
'How is it working in the big leagues?'
Big leagues, Jessica thought. The big leagues have a way of making you seem small. 'It's still early days, but it's a long way from my days in a sector car,' she said.
'So, what, you don't miss chasing down purse snatchers, breaking up bar fights, and shuttling pregnant women to the hospital?'
Jessica smiled a little wistfully. 'Purse snatchers and bar fights? No love lost there. As far as pregnant women go, I guess I retired with a record of one and one in that department.'
'What do you mean?'
'When I was in a sector car,' Jessica said, 'I had one baby born in the backseat. Lost one.'
Patrick sat a little straighter. Interested, now. This was his world. 'What do you mean? How did you lose one?'
This was not Jessica's favorite story. She was already sorry she brought it up. It looked like she had to tell it. 'It was Christmas Eve, three years ago. Remember that storm?'
It had been one of the worst blizzards in a decade. Ten inches of fresh snow, howling winds, temperatures around zero. The city all but shut down.
'Oh, yeah,' Patrick said.
'Anyway, I was on last-out. It's just after midnight and I'm in a Dunkin' Donuts, getting coffee for me and my partner.'
Patrick raised an eyebrow, meaning: Dunkin'Donuts?
'Don't even say it,' Jessica said, smiling.
Patrick zipped his lips.
'I was just about to leave, when I hear this moaning. Turns out there was a pregnant woman in one of the booths. She was seven or eight months pregnant, and something was definitely wrong. I called for a rescue but all the EMS units were on runs, skidded out, frozen fuel lines. A nightmare. We were just a few blocks from Jefferson so I got her in the squad car and we took off. We get to around Third and Walnut and we hit this patch of ice, skidded into a line of parked cars. We got stuck.'
Jessica sipped her drink. If telling the story made her feel bad, wrapping it up made her feel worse. 'I called for assistance but by the time they got there, it was too late. The baby was stillborn.'
The look in Patrick's eyes said he understood. It is never easy to lose one, no matter what the circumstances. 'Sorry to hear it.'
'Yeah, well, I made up for it a few weeks later,' Jessica said. 'My partner and I delivered a big baby boy down on South. And I mean big. Nine pounds and change. Like delivering a calf. I still get a Christmas card every year from the parents. After that, I applied for the Auto Unit. I had my fill of ob-gyn work.'
Patrick smiled. 'God has a way of evening the score, doesn't he?'
'He does,' Jessica said.
'If I remember correctly, there was a lot of craziness that Christmas Eve, wasn't there?'
It was true. Generally, when a blizzard hits, it keeps the nut jobs indoors. But for some reason, the stars lined up that night and they were all out. Shootings, arson, muggings, vandalism.
'Yeah. We were running all night,' Jessica said.
'Didn't somebody throw blood on the door of some church, or something like that?'
Jessica nodded. 'St. Katherine's. Up in Torresdale.'
Patrick shook his head. 'So much for peace on earth, huh?'
Jessica had to agree. Although if there suddenly was peace on earth, she'd be out of a job.
Patrick sipped his drink. 'Speaking of insanity, I hear you caught that homicide on Eighth Street.'
'Where did you hear that?
With a wink: 'I have my sources.'
'Yeah,' Jessica said. 'My first case. Thank you, Lord.'
'Bad as I heard?'
'Worse.'
Jessica gave him a brief rundown of the scene.
'My God,' Patrick said, reacting to the litany of horrors that befell Tessa Wells. 'Every day I think I've heard it all. Every day I hear something new.'
'I really feel for her father,' Jessica said. 'He's pretty sick. He lost his wife a few years ago. Tessa was his only daughter.'
'I can't imagine what he's going through. Losing a child.'
Jessica couldn't either. If she ever lost Sophie, her life would be over.
'Pretty tough assignment right out of the box,' Patrick said.
'Tell me about it.'
'Are you okay?'
Jessica thought about it before answering. Patrick had a way of asking questions like that.You got the feeling he really cared. 'Yeah. I'm okay.'
'How's your new partner?'
This one was easy. 'Good. Really good.'
'How so?'
'Well, he's got this way of handling people,' Jessica said. 'This way of getting people to talk to him. I don't know if it's fear or respect, but it works. And I've asked around about his solve rate. It's off the charts.'
Patrick looked around the room, back at Jessica. He formed a half- smile, the one that had always made her stomach go a bit spongy.
'What?' she asked.
'Mirabile visu,' Patrick said.
'That's what I always say,' Jessica said.
