of came up out of it.”
“They say talking to people in comas helps,” I said.
“Stimulates the brain,” she said, nodding. “But that’s usually with a non-induced coma, when there aren’t drugs involved.”
“All the same,” I said, and went to Sampson’s side.
“I’ll be a few minutes,” Billie said.
“Be right here until you get back,” I said.
When she’d gone out, I held Sampson’s giant hand and gave him an account of the day’s investigation, sparing him no detail. It felt good and familiar, and right, to talk it out with him, as if Sampson were not drugged down to the reptilian part of his brain, but acute and thoughtful and funny as hell.
“That’s it,” I said. “And, yes, I want another crack at Soneji’s widow and kid before long.”
The door opened. Billie stepped back inside, and then several of the monitors around Sampson began to squawk in alarm.
A team burst in. I was pushed to the corner with Billie.
“It’s his blood pressure again,” Billie said in a wavering voice. “Jesus, I don’t know if his heart can take this much longer.”
Ninety seconds later, the crisis passed and his vitals improved.
“I don’t know what happened,” I said, bewildered. “I was telling him about the investigation and…”
“What?” Billie said. “Why did you do that?”
“Because he’d want to know.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s done. That’s over, Alex.”
“What’s over?”
“His career as a cop,” Billie said. “No matter how he recovers, that part of John’s life is over if he wants to continue to be my husband.”
“John loves being a cop,” I said.
“I know he does…did…but that’s over,” Billie said sharply. “I will care for him, and defend John until the day one of us dies, but between now and then, his days carrying a gun and a badge are behind him.”
Chapter 14
“She’s got the right to demand that,” Bree said later in the hospital cafeteria. “John took a bullet to the head, Alex.”
“I know,” I said, frustrated and heartsick.
It felt like part of John had died and was never coming back. And it would never be the same between us, as partners anyway. That was dead, too.
I explained this to Bree, and she put her hands on mine and said, “You’ll never have a better friend than John Sampson. That friendship, that fierce bond you two have, will never be broken, even if he’s no longer a cop, even if he’s no longer your partner. Okay?”
“No,” I said, pushing my plate away. “But I’ll have to learn to live with it.”
“You haven’t eaten three bites,” Bree said, gesturing at the plate.
“No appetite,” I said.
“Then force yourself,” Bree said. “Especially the protein. Your brain has to be tip-top if you’re going to find Soneji.”
I laughed softly. “You’re always looking out for me.”
“Every moment I can, baby.”
I ate quite a bit more, and washed it down with three full glasses of water.
“Not quite Nana Mama’s cooking,” I said.
“I’m sure there’ll be leftovers,” Bree said.
“You trying to get me fat?” I said.
“I like a little cushion.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, and we both burst out laughing. Then I looked over and saw Billie standing in the doorway, watching us with bitterness and longing in her expression. She turned and left.
“Should I go after her?” I asked.
“No,” Bree said. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
“Home?”
“Home.”
We left the hospital and were crossing a triangular plaza to the Foggy Bottom Metro station when the first shot rang out.
I heard the flat crack of the muzzle blast. I felt the bullet rip past my left ear, grabbed Bree, and yanked her to the ground by two newspaper boxes. People were screaming and scattering.
“Where is he?” Bree said.
“I don’t know,” I said, before the second and third shots shattered the glass of one newspaper rack and pinged off another.
Then I heard squealing tires, and jumped up in time to see a white panel van roar north on 23rd Street, Northwest, heading toward Washington Circle, and a dozen different escape routes. As the van flashed past us, I caught a glimpse of the driver.
Gary Soneji was looking my way as if posing for a mental picture, grinning like a lunatic and holding his right-hand thumb up, index finger extended, like a gun he was aiming right at me.
I was so shocked that another instant passed before I started running across the plaza to 23rd, trying to get a look at his license plates. But his plate lights were dark, and the van soon disappeared into evening traffic, headed in the direction