Friends and Lovers Read online

  “I’m hungry,” he repeated.

  “Okay,” she whispered, rubbing his back. She looked over at Coulter. “Excuse me?”

  His head came up and the muscle in his cheek twitched. His cold stare made the hair on Lauren’s arms stand on end.

  “Simon is hungry, we all are. Can we get something from the kitchen?”

  “No.”

  Simon screwed up his face and started bawling. All three women tried frantically to settle him, but he was beyond comfort.

  “Shut up!” Coulter barked at the boy, but even the threat of violence failed to have any effect at this point.

  “You’re expecting an awful lot from a two year old,” Lauren shot back over the noise.

  Jackie nodded.

  “When my wife gets here you can do whatever you damn well please.”

  “You honestly think she’s coming?” Lauren sneered recklessly.

  “It’s not negotiable.”

  Lauren glared at him, disgusted and not in the least concerned that he saw it. He didn’t have the power to intimidate her anymore, even with a gun in his hand. Or so she thought.

  Turning her attention back to Simon, she wasn’t prepared for how fast Coulter flew at them. He was just there, in an instant, with his hand clamped around Simon’s little arm. The look in Coulter’s eyes chilled her. It was flat, cold, and utterly impersonal. That’s how she knew he was going to use Simon as leverage to get whatever he wanted. Consequences didn’t even factor into the equation anymore. Horrified, she wondered if her taunting had driven him to this. Did she just make the situation worse by challenging him?

  With no time to ponder those questions, Lauren bolted to her feet and fought to keep Simon away from Coulter. Jackie joined the struggle a second later with Jeri right behind her and all four engaged in a muted struggle over the small boy.

  “Let him go!” Lauren shouted, holding tightly to the boy.

  Jackie fought with both hands, trying to peel Coulter’s fingers off Simon’s arm while Jeri beat Coulter on the back. Without a word, Coulter turned and cracked Jeri across the face with the gun. Jeri crumbled soundlessly to the floor.

  Jackie didn’t exactly go white but she definitely paled.

  Lauren’s shock turned to furious outrage. “You son of a bitch! You can’t have him!” She made a tight fist and let it fly.

  * * * *

  A child’s screams, loud enough to puncture eardrums, suddenly reached the men outside. The commotion rattled Wes, and he and Chuck both peered cautiously in the windows. Alarmed by what they saw, Chuck relayed an urgent update to Reuter.

  Given the go-ahead, two SWAT members moved around Wes with a ram. Reuter’s voice came over the team’s earbuds.

  “Flash bangs in three, two, one!”

  The explosion upstairs was coordinated precisely with the back door crashing open. Wes darted inside and dropped to his knee with his weapon drawn and Chuck came in high.

  They were just in time to see Lauren hit the floor. The child dangled, wailing at the top of his lungs, from Coulter’s left hand.

  Coulter was the only one who looked up at the sound of heavy feet tramping upstairs. Then he turned calmly and faced the immediate threat, letting the kid drop to the floor. Lauren’s assistant snatched the boy’s arm and pulled him behind the sofa.

  “Drop your weapon! Now!” Wes barked, seriously pissed off.

  Coulter’s face betrayed no emotion when his gun came up, but as his shot went wide of Wes he was already falling to the floor, struck simultaneously by Wes’s bullet and Chuck’s taser.

  “Gunman down,” Chuck reported to Reuter as more men cleared the door and stormed down the steps.

  Ripping off his helmet, Wes sprang to Lauren’s side and felt her neck for a pulse. His heart was hammering on the underside of his ribcage so hard he was shaking when he found it. He closed his eyes in relief, grateful that she was unharmed save the fresh slice in her cheek.

  Chuck helped a young woman to her feet. She whimpered when she saw Coulter on the floor and turned away, crying into Chuck’s shoulder. He walked her to the staircase and handed her off to another member of the team who took her upstairs. Lauren’s assistant followed them with the boy in her arms.

  Morrison knelt at Coulter’s side and shouted, “We need a stretcher here.”

  “It’s on the way,” Woods fired back.

  * * * *

  “But I want drugs!” Sherry insisted.

  “It’s too late,” the nurse informed her with an infuriating lack of empathy.

  “It can’t be,” Sherry cried, desperate to argue her way to relief.

  “I’m afraid it is. Do your Lamaze. Dr. Fuller’s on his way.”

  “He’s never going to make it.”

  “He’ll make it.” The nurse smirked and readjusted the monitor before walking out.

  Stunned, Sherry stared at her husband. “Aren’t nurses supposed to be angels of mercy?”

  “That’s what I always thought.”

  “I swear this one could have worked for the Gazpacho.”

  “Gestapo.” Ken grinned, rubbing her aching back.

  “Don’t correct me right now. It’s annoying.”

  Sherry was getting cranky and didn’t want the fetal monitor strapped to her belly. She was itching to tear it off and whip the blasted thing across the room, but Ken was being a total butthead and wouldn’t let her. He wouldn’t let her tell the nurse what she thought of her either. He was so maddening sometimes.

  “Sweetheart, you have to try. Please? You know this stuff. Just look at my watch with the next contraction, all right?”

  Even Ken’s gentle entreaties were getting on her nerves.

  “Tell you what, let’s change places for a little while. You get up here and I’ll coach you. How does that sound?”

  Heedless of her electronic tether Sherry swung her legs off the bed and stood only to double over with another intense pain. Ken caught her as her legs buckled and she swore when he set her back on the mattress.

  “But I want to go home,” she said, upset because her body was one big ball of cramp.

  “I know,” he crooned, brushing the hair back from her damp forehead. “Look at my watch. Sherry, look at my watch.”

  “Leave me alone.”

  “Where the fuck’s my watch!”

  “There!” She pointed with a groan. “Asshole.”

  Ken chuckled. “Breathe, you irritating bitch.”

  Demonstrating what he expected from her, he drew in a deep breath, held it, then released the gust of air with a whoosh. Sherry gave her husband the finger but it was done half heartedly, because she was finally cooperating and for some odd reason, it helped. She was never going to live this down.

  The sympathy and understanding in Ken’s eyes overwhelmed Sherry as the contraction subsided. Melting under his loving care, she smiled ruefully while he worked at the knots in her back.

  Giving him an apologetic smile, she said, “I hope Robin appreciates being an only child.”

  * * * *

  Lauren jolted awake with a cry of alarm and found Wes bent over her, the back of his fingers gently stroking her cheek.

  “What happened?” she asked, reeling at the storm of emotions on his face. It was a complicated mix of worry, relief, anger, and tenderness. She could hardly comprehend it all.

  Wes expelled the breath he was holding and his mouth hinted at a smile that didn’t come. “Shh, it’s over. You did good. Let’s get you out of here.”

  Only then did Lauren notice the roomful of cops. Someone was giving Coulter CPR not four feet away.

  She felt numb as Wes helped her up and walked her to the back door. He caught it before it closed behind another officer and pressed her through with a hand on her back.

  Lauren stared at the deep blue sky then dropped her gaze, noticing how the lengthening rays of sun struck the landscaping now that the direct light had swung away from the backyard. The summer air hung heavy with fragrance and br
ight yellow dandelions sprouted here and there in the green lawn.

  The world went on. The birds continued to chirp, and kids played in the park nearby without any clue there was a disturbed and violent man fighting for his life mere feet from her.

  There was a group of men standing in front of them. One of them looked over and jerked his head at Wes when he noticed him, beckoning him over.

  “Come on,” Wes said, leading Lauren forward. “Lieutenant Reuter, this is Lauren McKay, director of Gloria Fields.”

  “Ms. McKay. I’m glad you’re safe. There’s a medic standing by. She can look at your cheek.”

  Lauren turned to Wes with wide eyes and carefully touched her face. “I didn’t even notice the sting.”

  “Wes will take you to her,” said the lieutenant. “Then I’m afraid we’re going to need you down at the station. We have a lot of questions.”

  “I understand.”

  “Ms. McKay, would you excuse us for a minute?” said Reuter.

  Wes gave her a reassuring nod. “I’ll be right with you.”

  “Okay.” Lauren wandered over to the small butterfly garden at the corner of the yard to wait.

  She still didn’t comprehend everything clearly. How was she supposed to shed light on today when she felt so dazed? She looked at her hand, surprised the punch she threw didn’t hurt that much. Coulter probably didn’t even feel it.

  * * * *

  Chuck walked over to join the conference.

  “Who fired first?” Reuter asked them.

  “Coulter,” said Chuck without hesitation. “He took a shot at Wes.”

  Reuter nodded, assessing Wes with a grave expression. “I’ll need your reports on my desk tonight, and once the debriefing is over you’re on administrative leave. Dunlop,” he said, stopping Wes before he walked away. “You know where Flatterly is if you need him.”

  Wes gave the lieutenant a quick nod. He doubted he’d need the counselor, but it was good to be reminded he was there just in case.

  The administrative leave was no surprise. It was procedure.

  Wes took a deep breath and went to get Lauren. She must have sensed him because she turned before he even spoke. His compulsion to touch her, comfort her, was intense, but he held back. She seemed to understand the need for professionalism and followed his lead. He raised his arm and gestured for her to walk up the side yard with him.

  There were two ambulances parked out front. They approached the only medic waiting at the vehicles and he cleaned Lauren’s cheek and closed the wound with a butterfly bandage.

  After she’d been attended to, Wes took Lauren by the hand and drew her back to the house.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “You’re getting your purse.”

  “Okay.”

  They went in through the front and Lauren shut down the office too. Wes waited patiently while she found her spare keys and turned them over to him so he could lock up later.

  When they stepped outside again, they both spotted Lauren’s assistant waiting by the curb. Lauren cried, “Jackie!”

  The woman turned at her name, then leaped the curb and ran across the grass. They threw their arms around each other, and their emotional hug lasted a full minute.

  “Come on,” Wes said gently, sorry he had to break it up. He herded them over to the squad cars, not exactly comfortable with either woman behind the wheel right now. Wes nodded at Perez. “Would you take these two back to the station with you?”

  “No problem. Ladies,” she said, opening the back door.

  Jackie got in but Lauren hesitated. “How will we get back here?” she asked.

  “I’ll bring you.”

  She looked so damn vulnerable. His body vibrated with an overpowering need to kiss her, hold her even longer than Jackie did just to feel reassured Lauren was safe. But now wasn’t the time and this wasn’t the place. Wes took her hand and squeezed it, the gesture unsatisfying and woefully inadequate under the circumstances, but it would have to do.

  “I love you,” he said softly, his voice full of emotion he couldn’t freely express yet. But he would.

  Lauren’s eyes glittered with tears and her lips trembled. “Me too.”

  Wes reluctantly released her hand and Lauren slid in next to Jackie. Perez closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.

  Wes didn’t move until the car turned at the end of the block and passed out of view.

  Nothing could have rammed his love for Lauren home more forcefully than the threat of losing her. He ached with the need to protect her, be the one who watched over her and kept her fears at bay while she slept. He wanted to be the one who understood her asides, understood her moods, understood…her.

  They needed time to amass their private jokes and references like other couples. It would take him a lifetime to unwrap and fully appreciate the complicated woman he loved. He wanted to be the one who filled her womb with children and ran beside them when they learned to ride bikes. He wanted to look at his daughter with Lauren’s eyes and kiss her on the head after he bandaged her scraped knee.

  He wanted, with an intensity that staggered him, to go home and hold Lauren, love her like it was the first time, the last time, the only time—every single time.

  Taking a deep breath, Wes went to find Chuck.

  The stretcher rolled past him. An oxygen mask covered Coulter’s face. A cop got into the back with the paramedic and a black and white followed the ambulance to the hospital. The bastard was going to be under guard for the rest of his life, whether it ended during surgery or carried over into prison.

  Ballistics pulled Coulter’s bullet out of the wall and bagged it. Afterward, Wes and Chuck caught a ride back to the station with the lieutenant.

  They turned in their gear and went to clean up before heading upstairs.

  Wes hung his head under the tap. Wetting down his scalp, he splashed cool water into his face and groaned with relief.

  Chuck stood silently by, wiping his face and neck with a paper towel. He tossed it in the trash, then pulled several more out of the box and handed them to Wes when he shut off the faucet.

  Wes blotted his hair and face then straightened up. “Thanks.”

  It was impossible to miss Chuck’s concern when they locked eyes in the mirror.

  “Are you okay?” Chuck asked.

  Wes lowered the towels and shook his head. “No. I’m still pretty shaken. I could have lost her today. Talk about irony.”

  The distressing reminder sent Wes spinning around to walk off his spiking emotions like a caged animal. His fingers gripped his wet hair as he fought to breathe through the stress all over again. Only after he’d composed himself did Wes bother to brush his hair back with his fingertips. He tossed the wad of towels at the garbage can then gave Chuck a curt nod and led him out.

  It was the most unguarded moment Wes ever had in front of his partner.

  * * * *

  “Really? I don’t need a mask?” Ken asked the nurse as she moved him aside for the bassinette.

  “Not at this hospital.”

  She shooed him back to Sherry then went to the end of the bed and detached the footboard, rolling it out of the way. Someone else came in carrying a pair of stirrups and those were attached to the bed. They were just lifting Sherry’s legs into the stirrups when her doctor waltzed in.

  “Ah, just in time I see,” he said brightly, sitting on a stool and rolling into position.

  Sherry groaned at her husband. “Have you noticed how many people have seen my hoochie-cooch today?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “Sorry, sweetie.”

  “Good.” Another contraction hit her and now the real fun began.

  Chapter 22

  Lauren stared at investigator Hammond across his desk and groaned with exhaustion.

  “We just covered that,” she said. “Have a heart. I’ve been through a lot today.” She sagged back in her chair with a sigh. “Like I said before, Coulter’s
not a nice guy. I never saw a hint of empathy in the man.” Lauren scrunched up her face uncertainly. “If I said that Coulter deals with everything in the id would you understand?”

  The cop set his elbows on his armrests and clasped his hands together. “Explain.”

  “People like that can’t put themselves in someone else’s shoes. Coulter only sees other people—his wife, his daughter, all of us—in terms of how we impact him. It’s fairly common in abusers, actually. He blamed his wife for his behavior. Eventually he would have blamed his daughter too. We sheltered them from him so naturally we’re to blame. That’s it in a nutshell. Now please, I just want to go home. Please.”

  Jackie rubbed Lauren’s shoulder, and Lauren reached up and patted her friend’s hand while the cop wrote down her comments.

  “Well, I suppose I have all I need. But you’ll be available if I have any more questions, right?” said the investigator.

  “Yes, you have my number,” Lauren said, sensing escape was at hand.

  “So, we’re finished?” Jackie asked, looking just as glazed by the redundant questions.

  “For now.”

  Lauren started to rise then froze. “Wait a second. What happened to Jeri and Simon?”

  Hammond looked up from his notes. “Pardon?”

  “Where are Jeri and Simon? What happened to Sylvia and Hope? Where is everyone staying tonight? Did anyone feed the kids? They missed their lunches, you know.”

  Hammond smiled. “We were able to make temporary arrangements with the Murray Hill shelter to take in Ms. Reynolds and her son. I understand Officer Boyd bought the boy a Happy Meal on the way. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find accommodations for your other residents so we reserved rooms for them at the Holiday Inn on Hamilton Avenue. Mrs. Coulter and her daughter are already there.”

  Lauren gave a weary nod. “Good.”

  “If you remember anything else, please contact me right away.” He slid a card across the desk.

  Lauren picked it up. “One more thing,” she said, her eyes coming up after reading it. “You wouldn’t know where I can find Wes Dunlop, would you?”

  “He’s in conference with Lieutenant Reuter.”

  “Could you tell him we went to the stand down the block for something to drink?”