Comfort Me Page 5

  They arrived on the street where her shop was. Rebecca sucked in her breath as she saw the police cars and the tape cordoning off both the sidewalk and the entrance to her shop.

  “So much for not scaring my customers,” she said wryly.

  He suspected that at the moment that was really the least of her worries. Still, no business owner wanted to see that tape declaring their business a crime scene. If any customers did drive by today the gossip it generated would probably be unbearable.

  He let her out on the other side of her shop from where Liam was attacked.

  “You still have the phone I gave you?” he asked.

  She nodded as she closed the car door. She held up her right hand and he could see that it was clutched tightly in her fist.

  “Call if you need me and I’ll call you the second I hear anything.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  She turned and headed to her store, ducking under the police tape.

  Jeremiah’s heart went out to her. She was having a rough day. A lot to process, too much, really. He just hoped that whatever she and the police discovered in her shop helped them find whoever was behind all this.

  He headed back to the hospital, hoping that soon he’d have good news to share with everyone. They all needed it pretty badly, after all.

  ~

  Mark had finished his preliminary questioning of Ruth when Dr. Milner arrived. The man was younger than he expected and he had a bushy reddish brown beard that seemed to draw the eye. The beard itself had two little braids in it making him look like some sort of character straight out of The Hobbit. Geanie would know which one. She’d invited everyone to celebrate her birthday a year earlier with what ended up being a nearly twenty-four-hour Tolkien marathon. Traci had loved it.

  “Thank you for coming, Dr. Milner, I’m Detective Walters,” Mark said, shaking the man’s hand.

  “How could I not when the officer explained what was happening?” the man asked, tension in every line of his body.

  “I have to warn you, we haven’t had a chance to move the bodies yet. We haven’t wanted to disturb anything until we could get Casey out of there. There’s not even sheets over them. If you like I’ll see what we can do-”

  “It’s alright. I went to medical school. I’ve seen my share of cadavers,” Dr. Milner said, interrupting.

  Mark nodded. “Not quite like this, doctor. I just want to make sure that you’re okay when you go in there.”

  “I do appreciate the concern, detective. I’m here to help Casey, though, and I can assure you that I will be able to focus one-hundred-percent on that until the job is done.”

  “Thank you for your candor.”

  “It’s not a problem. I have to tell you that I don’t believe him capable of the kind of violence described.”

  “You mean, he’s never had any violent outbursts?” Mark asked, already knowing that wasn’t the case from talking with Ruth.

  “Outbursts yes, but limited to throwing things, screaming, that sort of thing. I have patients who hit. Casey has never been one of those.”

  “Thank you for your input. Hopefully we can figure out later exactly what Casey did or did not do. The important thing at the moment is to get him out of there and down to a room at the police station where we can get him cleaned up and hopefully talk to him.”

  Mark handed Dr. Milner a pair of gloves and the man put them on.

  “Please, try to touch as little as you can while in there,” Mark instructed.

  Dr. Milner nodded. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Mark led the doctor down the hall and into the kitchen. He turned as the doctor stepped into the room and saw the man blanch as he took in the bodies on the floor. True to his word, though, he immediately turned his focus onto Casey. He knelt down next to the young man.

  “Casey, it’s Dr. Milner. I’ve come to see you,” he said.

  His voice was warm, friendly, calm. Mark had no idea how the man pulled that off under the circumstances. He was just grateful that he’d thought to call him in.

  “We’ll be just in the other room if you need us,” Mark said, signaling the other officers present to clear out.

  It was best to give the doctor some space to do what he had to. Mark left one officer in the hall where he could observe without being seen easily by Casey.

  He headed back to the living room where he was intercepted by Taylor.

  “Can I talk to you, sir?” Taylor asked, still looking the worse for wear.

  “Sure,” Mark said.

  He followed Taylor outside and away from the house.

  “What is it?” he asked when the other man finally stopped and turned to face him.

  Taylor looked around as though trying to make sure no one else was watching.

  “It’s okay, I think we’re alone,” Mark said.

  Taylor nodded and then drew his gun.

  6

  Fear rocketed through Mark and he raised his hands. “Easy there,” he muttered.

  His mind began to race. Taylor was a good cop. He’d dealt with him a few times before.

  “It’s okay,” Mark said, trying to work out how to get the gun away from him and to get some help.

  “It’s not okay,” Taylor hissed, face contorting.

  “Whatever this is, we can work it out,” Mark said.

  “No! We can’t.”

  “Listen-”

  “No! You listen to me!”

  “I’m listening,” Mark hastened to reassure him.

  Taylor was shaking, the gun barrel was bouncing back and forth and Mark did some quick calculations. If he could lunge to the side at just the right moment and hit Taylor’s hand, he might send the gun flying without getting himself shot in the process.

  “I need you to accept my badge and gun. I’m unfit for duty and I’m resigning as of right now,” Taylor said fiercely.

  Mark stared at him. That was the last thing he’d expected to hear the man say. “Lower the gun then,” he finally managed to say in response.

  Taylor instantly did so and Mark reached out and swiftly took it from him. After examining the gun for a moment he shoved it into the back of his waistband. With the gun secured he took a deep breath.

  “Now, you want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

  Taylor abruptly sat down on the curb. After a moment’s hesitation Mark joined him, sitting just out of arm’s reach. The other man’s shoulders slumped forward and he looked like someone who was utterly defeated.

  “What happened?” Mark tried again.

  “My partner and I got the 911 call,” Taylor said after a minute. “No data, there was no one talking, it was just a call. We had no idea what we were walking into. Usually when there’s silence like that someone’s having a heart attack or something, you know? Fire truck arrived same time we did. We went in first.”

  Taylor stopped and a shudder seemed to pass over him.

  “Was it your first homicide?” Mark asked, trying to figure out where the trauma was coming from. If it was his first, then Taylor was holding up better than most. Mark had a hard time believing it was, though, given how long Taylor had been on the force.

  “No, sir, it wasn’t,” Taylor said. “I was first in the kitchen. I saw the wife first, her skull bashed in. Then I saw the husband.”

  “And?” Mark prompted when Taylor came to a stop again.

  “Then I saw a guy crouched on the ground, holding a bloody baseball bat. He was jerking. I thought he was going to jump up and attack me. I pulled my gun and...and...I almost shot him,” Taylor ended in a whisper.

  Mark could feel the anxiety and fear rolling off the other man. The horror of nearly having killed someone who wasn’t attacking him but who was in the middle of their own crisis.

  “But you didn’t shoot him,” Mark said gently.

  “I don’t know why not. I was ready to. It was like at the last moment something froze my
finger on the trigger and I didn’t. It took me a couple more seconds to realize he wasn’t a threat. He didn’t even know that I was there.”

  “You do this job long enough and sooner or later you’re going to find yourself in an impossible situation where you have to make a decision, often without all the facts. Just thank your lucky stars or God or your instincts or whatever that you made the right choice in the end.”

  “That’s not good enough,” Taylor said.

  “I know, but that’s what we get. Look, I’m not the one you can resign to and I know the captain. He’ll insist you take a few days first to calm down before he’ll accept it from you. So, do yourself a favor. Write up your report and then take the rest of the week off. Get out of town, go do some fishing, visit friends, whatever you do to feel better.”

  “Then what, come back, pretend it never happened?”

  “You can’t do that, but you learn from it, you add it to your experience bank and it helps you every time you come across an uncertain situation in the future.”

  “How did you come back and just carry on?” Taylor asked, lifting his head to look at Mark. His eyes were dark, his features pinched.

  Mark blinked, sucking in his breath rapidly as though just struck. “I had the love of a good woman to help me and I reminded myself every day to learn from my experiences. And, I forgave myself.”

  He hated being reminded that the rest of his fellow officers hadn’t forgotten what he’d done that one March day a few years back. As much as he tried to forget they never did and it came up at the most awkward times.

  He stood. “I need to go see how the doctor’s doing. You think about that time off, though.”

  “Thanks, Detective.”

  Mark turned and headed back into the house, doing his best not to fixate on his own shortcomings as he did so.

  ~

  Jeremiah settled himself down in the waiting area at the hospital. He called Marie, explained where he was, and asked her to reschedule his one afternoon appointment which was with Ezra Abram, the rabbi that Cindy had met while serving on the jury a few weeks before. She had briefly voiced the thought about asking him to officiate their wedding. He had taken it upon himself to meet the man and get a feel for him before they discussed that any further.

  The meeting could certainly wait a day or two, though. After all, if Cindy was serious about a December wedding the next year they had a little over a year-and-a-half to work some of these things out.

  As he sat there waiting he wished he’d brought something to read with him. None of the magazines scattered around the room held any appeal for him. He wasn’t in the mood to look at pictures of cats on his phone either, so he just sat and worked on stilling his mind, emptying it of turmoil and trying to order his thoughts.

  He was finally starting to get somewhere when he heard a man say, “I’m looking for a rabbi.”

  Jeremiah looked up and saw a familiar looking man in his fifties, brown hair shot through with gray, talking to the nurse at the front. She frowned and started to shake her head.

  Jeremiah cleared his throat and raised his hand. She saw him and said something to the man who turned quickly and walked toward him.

  “Rabbi Silverman?”

  “Yes,” Jeremiah said, getting to his feet.

  “I’m Rabbi Abram,” the other man said, extending his hand.

  Jeremiah nodded and shook it. “A pleasure to meet you, Rabbi.”

  “Please, call me Ezra,” the other man said with a warm smile.

  “If you’ll call me Jeremiah.”

  “Of course, my son,” Ezra said.

  “What are you doing here?” Jeremiah asked, pleasantries over.

  “Well, when your secretary called me to reschedule she told me you were waiting here for word on a friend. I figured I’d come and sit with you while you waited.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Jeremiah said, a bit taken aback.

  “Nonsense, I wanted to. No one should wait for news like this by themselves.”

  Jeremiah was about to protest that there were others waiting for news, too, but decided against it. The older man was technically right. He was sitting and waiting alone, and it was tedious at best.

  “Well, I appreciate it. Please, sit,” Jeremiah said, pointing to the chair beside him as he retook his own seat.

  “Thank you,” Ezra said as he sat down. He made himself comfortable and then looked at Jeremiah with a twinkle in his eye. “I must say, young man, you’ve made quite a catch for yourself with Cindy,” he said.

  Jeremiah chuckled. “You are direct.”

  “Nothing if not,” he said with a grin.

  “How does that go over with your congregation?”

  “They learn to love it or they go elsewhere,” he said with a shrug. “It’s not my job to coddle them. They have mothers for that.”

  Jeremiah couldn’t help but chuckle again.

  “So, what did you want to meet about?” Ezra asked.

  “Cindy spoke highly of you. I figured I’d like to meet you.”

  Ezra stared at him intently for a long moment. Finally he spoke. “Just to be clear, I will perform an interfaith wedding, but I will put you both through holy hell before it.”

  It was not often that Jeremiah was surprised. It must have showed on his face because it was Ezra’s turn to chuckle. “I know, too direct sometimes. This is what this is all about, though, right?”

  “Cindy had a passing thought in that direction,” Jeremiah admitted.

  “I kinda thought that might be the case. Tell me, have you ever met a Messianic Jew before?”

  “I can’t say that I have.”

  “Uh huh. I thought so. You know, you’re a bright guy and you’re fixing to marry yourself a devout Christian. It seems to me you’d do well to at least ask me what I believe and why.”

  Jeremiah shook his head. “I’ve known Cindy for a few years now and she’s never once tried to convert me. I’ve known you for two minutes and you’re already there.”

  “What can I say? I’m not in love with you.”

  Jeremiah blinked at him. “You think that’s the only reason she hasn’t tried to convert me?”

  “Probably not. Having met her I’d say she’s not naturally the proselytizing type. But I’d allow that one reason she hasn’t put her foot down more recently is she’s too afraid to lose you.”

  Jeremiah struggled with how to respond to the other man. A number of emotions were swirling inside him and he couldn’t focus on any one long enough to address it.

  Ezra put a hand on his shoulder. “Look, I know I can be a bit much to take sometimes. But I like her, I really do. And looking at you I’m pretty sure that you’re the one who’s really terrified here. You’re afraid of losing her. And, on some level, if I had to guess, I’d say you’re afraid of dragging her down.”

  The emotions inside him sharpened and Jeremiah finally managed to ask, “How can you tell that?”

  “You carry yourself like a man who has seen more than he should. Men like that often cling to a woman like Cindy like they’re drowning, but are terrified of taking the girl under with them. I got a chance to observe Cindy pretty closely for a few days and I can tell you this, son, she’s not going to break. She’s tougher than even she knows and her love for you is one for the storybooks.”

  Ezra smiled kindly at him and Jeremiah took a shaky breath.

  “Maybe we should talk more later,” he finally managed to get out.

  “I think that would be wise. Now, I’m glad to sit here and make small talk while you wait.”

  “I don’t think you’re capable of small talk,” Jeremiah accused.

  “I don’t know, try me, you might be surprised.”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure I could take any more surprises today.”

  “I can respect that,” Ezra said, standing.

  Jeremiah rose to his feet as well. The other rabbi held
out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jeremiah. I think you and I are going to have a lot to talk about.”

  Jeremiah shook his hand. “I wish I could say the feeling was entirely mutual,” he said bluntly.

  Ezra gave him a wink. “Eventually it will be.”

  He let go of Jeremiah’s hand, turned and walked out of the emergency room. Jeremiah stood staring after him for a long minute. Ezra had hit more than a few nerves with his brief visit and pointed words. Jeremiah was entirely sure he never cared to have another conversation with the man again. He was equally sure that another conversation was somehow inevitable.

  His stomach growled and he glanced at his phone. It was after lunch. He frowned. Cindy hadn’t called him like she usually did. Hopefully everything was going okay at her new job. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe she had made a friend to eat lunch with. Whatever it was he’d hear all about it that evening.

  His stomach growled again and he thought about running down to grab something out of the vending machines in the cafeteria. The sandwiches in them were questionable to his mind, but he had no way of knowing how much longer before he heard something about Liam’s condition.

  As though somehow sensing his thoughts and deciding he had waited long enough, the door suddenly opened, and the doctor he’d seen that morning strode out, his face grim. Jeremiah’s heart sank and he realized at that moment that he was the wrong person to be there. He wasn’t Liam’s family or his partner or his girlfriend. He was just a friend, not even an extraordinarily close one. They were friends because Liam was Mark’s partner and as such was privy to certain information and truths.

  Mark should be there or Rebecca. He didn’t know where Liam’s family lived and had no idea if anyone had thought to contact them. The doctor walked toward him, steps measured, eyes tired. He stopped in front of Jeremiah and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry,” he began.

  Chapter 7

  “Is he dead?” Jeremiah interrupted, unable to stand it any longer.

  The doctor shook his head. “No, I’m sorry to keep you waiting so long. His injuries are extensive and we just now got him out of surgery. He’s in post-op, In about an hour we’ll have him in a room and you can see him.”