“What sort of things did you find? I need to know what I’m up against.”
He described the bent spoon and needles, along with the rubber tubing that meant Monica was in big trouble, the kind you were led into and never escaped just by sheer will.
“Sir, I want you to do me two favors.”
“Anything.”
“I need a current picture.”
He pulled one from his shirt pocket.
“And I want you to go home and spend the afternoon with your wife. Do you think you could do that for me?”
George nodded and wanted to cry from relief.
“You go home and tell Mrs. Talbot not to worry. Monica’s going to be just fine. I promise you that on my honor. It’s going to take some time, but I’ll return your Monica to you.” Cain stressed “your Monica,” meaning she would return the girl the parents remembered before Eddie had sunk his claws into her.
Three months later an elderly Carmelite nun pulled up to the Talbot home with a very contrite and apologetic Monica Talbot. Sister Mary Jude explained to the tearful parents that their daughter had kept up with her schoolwork and was fine after her bout of the flu. Monica’s school was informed of her illness, and her teachers were anticipating her return the following Monday.
George never asked what had happened to Eddie, and his daughter never mentioned her time away. The thing—which didn’t surprise him—was that Cain never called to ask for any payment. The rehab center Sister Mary Jude was in charge of was effective but expensive, but no bill ever came to their house, nor was their insurance notified. When George called to take care of the bill, he was informed that no record existed for anyone named Monica Talbot.
The only reminder was the small bouquet of forget-me-nots that Monica received on her birthday, with no card attached. In her senior year George watched his daughter when he handed them over, thinking they were from a friend. She just stared for a long moment before dropping into the nearest chair. The flowers arrived religiously on every birthday, and after a few years, the scared expression turned from fear to almost comfort, the way she ran her fingers over the petals.
George surmised the flowers were from Cain, and like their name, she never forgot to send them. They symbolized something she didn’t want Monica to forget. The troubled girl took the lesson seriously and went on to graduate in the top one percent of her class, both in high school, then in college. In law school she was first in her class, and then started on a successful career in the district attorney’s office with no criminal record to hold back her career.
The young mother of four little boys, married to a cardiologist, bore no sign of being the teen who had run away from home. George remembered that afternoon when he had sat under the massive live oak with Cain, and how she had taken charge of getting his little girl back. This had been his opportunity to repay her kindness, and he felt like a failure. With the gravity of her wound, it was possible that no car would pull up to the Casey home and bring Cain back to Hayden.
“Gentlemen, Kyle was right about one thing. We need to inventory all this stuff before this group of drivers decides to go for a spin.” He pointed to the trucks lined up along the docks.
The first truck was already open and a few of the crates unloaded. Lionel found the word ‘Sardines’ stenciled on the sides, just like Cain had said in the bunkhouse when she made the deal. When they demanded the next few trucks open their cargo doors, they found the same stash of crates, stenciled the same way. It was over. Kyle had made his case, but none of them felt much like celebrating.
*
“Call ahead, Murphy. Tell them to have an OR ready to go, and call the folks in the blood bank.” The woman nicknamed Tex was barking out orders as she ran alongside the gurney holding a compress to the hole in the front of Cain’s chest. Kyle’s shot had gone completely through, leaving a much larger exit wound and one hell of mess. The legs of the gurney folded under when they pushed Cain inside the ambulance, freeing Murphy to run for the driver’s side.
Tex let her other partner climb in next and was almost knocked down by the two women trying to follow him. “Hold up there. Where in the hell do you think you two are going?” The paramedic held her hands up and stood in the opening to keep anyone else from entering.
“That’s my partner in there. I’m coming with you,” said Emma. She looked dazed but deceptively calm, despite the fact that she was standing there covered in Cain’s blood.
“Ma’am, that’s our patient, and you need to give us some room to make sure she’s all right. I’d love to stand here and talk at length to you about it, but I don’t have the time. I’m sure one of the officers will be glad to give you a ride. You sure don’t need to be doing any driving.”
“Come on, Ms. Casey, I’ll take you.” Shelby put her hand on Emma’s shoulder and pulled her back so the ambulance doors could be closed.
The ride seemed to take an eternity as the two women followed the flashing lights of the large vehicle in front of them. Every so often Emma would look from the ambulance to the woman sitting beside her. The image of her comforting Cain was hard to erase as she took in the tight jaw muscles and worry lines across Shelby’s forehead.
“Can I ask your name?”
“I’m sorry. I’m Shelby Daniels.”
“Are you and Cain good friends?” It seemed ridiculous to have this conversation now, but she needed some reassurance of where she stood and what her role would be once they reached the hospital.
“We met just recently.” Shelby took a hand off the wheel and put it on Emma’s knee. “I work for the FBI, ma’am. That puts Cain and me in an awkward position for any romantic relationship, but it doesn’t make it impossible for us to be friends.”
Emma swiped at her veil of blond hair as she leaned forward a little. “I’m sorry. You probably think I’m just an idiot, but when I saw the two of you earlier I thought—”
“I know what you thought, ma’am, and like I said, Cain and I are merely friends. We got to know each other
