Broken Shield Part 15

"What about riding my motorcycle?"

"Are you trying to be funny? No motorcycle, period. Not for now anyway."

"Do you know when they are going to release Officer Henderson?"

Tyler didn't know if her doctor treated Ashley as well, but it was worth a try.

Shaking his head he handed her a prescription slip. "Nope, I'm not her attending. She's the one who came in with you, right? Bruised ribs, bullet wound, and collapsed lung?"

"Yeah."

"A few days. Probably no more than that as long as there weren't complications."

"I see."

"Okay, Tyler. I told your father that you would be released this afternoon. So, he should be here to take you home. Any other questions?"

Shaking her head she extended her hand, "Nope, I think I'm good. Thanks Doc."

"Be careful out there. Okay?"

"Always," Tyler said smiling. "Always."

"So are you ready for some lunch, Officer Henderson?" the nurse asked while helping Ashley back from her shower.

Smiling, Ashley had to admit she was hungry, "Yeah, I think I am, actually. But not that broth or gelatin. How about something more substantial?"

"I'm sure we can arrange something like that. I can't vouch for the taste, though."

Shaking her head, Ashley couldn't wait to get out of the hospital and back to her own home, dog, and serenity. A hospital wasn't a place where one got better, it was the way station on the way to getting better. Home was her sanctuary and she wanted the peace and quiet it afforded her. Running her fingers through her wet hair, Ashley wished someone had brought her a comb. Without conditioner it would take forever to detangle the wet mess. Tyler had been right. The shower did improve her mood and outlook. The days ahead were going to get better. They had to. No more looking over her shoulder, no more wondering where Leslie was, and no more worrying when the phone rang.

Setting her things on her bed she rifled through the overnight bag her mother had brought. Ah, a comb. It was the small things that made Ashley happy right now. Surprisingly, combing her hair was one of those small obsessions Ashley needed to fulfill to be happy. Being right handed had presented a problem with many of her routines and this one was no exception. Struggling, she scratched her scalp as she dragged the comb through the tangled mess with her left hand. What started off as a triumph was proving to be a disaster as she yanked more hair out of her head than ran the comb through. Grunting, she tried once again to gently glide the comb through, starting at the bottom and working her way to the top as her mother had shown her when she was little. Ashley thought about all the things her mother had taught her in that subtle motherly way she had. How to cook a three-minute egg might not mean anything to some, but in her family the three-minute egg was routine every Sat.u.r.day. Ruin it and it spoke volumes for how the day would progress, make it right and it wasn't even an issue on the radar. Her dad, when he was around, had shown her how to take a car engine apart.

"It should be mandatory for every girl your age," he said as she looked at the engine of her Dodge Dart laying in pieces on the garage floor. It was a gift for her sixteenth birthday, but who got a Dodge Dart for their first car? She wondered. It was a gift she would have gladly given back if she could. But after spending a week rea.s.sembling it with little help from her father, who only grunted when she selected the wrong tool or car part, she felt the satisfaction of success when the car's engine turned over and started for the first time. Her heart felt heavy as she thought about her dad and how he had turned his back on her mother and her. Oh well, water under the bridge as her mother would say. Looking down at the comb in her hand she remembered what she was supposed to be doing. It was a 's.h.i.+ny object moment' as her mother referred to them, the times when Ashley got sidetracked from what she was doing.

Ashley jerked and let out another grunt as she wrestled with another tangle.

"Hey, need a hand?" Kelly asked, reaching for the comb now stuck in Ashley's hair. "Let me do that."

Ashley flinched in surprise at Kelly's voice. She hadn't heard Kelly come in, too focused on her task to pay attention. Turning towards Kelly she presented her back to her partner and slumped when Kelly pushed her head down. Clearly Kelly had done this before. She had all the tell-tale signs of someone who knew how to comb out long hair.

"Thanks. Trying to do this left-handed was frustrating enough. Then to pull out chunks of my own hair, I thought I would be bald by the time I finished," Ashley said, relaxing at the gentle strokes through her hair.

"My sisters and I loved combing each other's hair. We would sit for hours and do it. Why do you think that is?"

"Bonding I suppose. Kind of like when monkeys groom each other and eat the bugs from the other monkey's fur."

"Gross," Kelly said, slapping Ashley with the side of the comb. "All done."

"What're you doing here?" Ashley faced Kelly noticing she had her uniform on. "Ah, you're working and I'm on your to do list, aren't I?"

"Sorry, duty calls."

"More questions?"

"Yep, more questions."

"Hmm." Was all Ashley could say. She knew the last time Kelly was here she had taken it easy on her, but as the days went on Ashley would have to answer more questions. "Fire away."

Kelly pulled out the pad she kept on her and flipped it open just as she had done before.

"I'm sorry, Ash, but I'm going to have to ask some very intimate questions about your relations.h.i.+p with Leslie. She's said some things and I need to either verify them or put them to rest. Her lawyer is determined to get the charges reduced." Kelly wrote a few things down and then looked up at Ashley, who could see how uncomfortable Kelly was getting. Ashley's stomach tightened and she suddenly felt nauseous, fearing what Leslie might have said.

"Let's get this over with so I can puke and you can get back to work," Ashley said snidely. Kelly didn't deserve the att.i.tude, she was only doing her job, Ashley realized and apologized. "Sorry, it's just...I just want this over, the sooner the better."

Kelly put a comforting hand on Ashley's shoulder and smiled. "I know it's tough, but this is only the report side of things. Wait until the DA gets a hold of you. The upside is I hear she's quite a looker, if you like tall, authoritative, s.e.xy brunettes."

Kelly closed the door to Ashley's room and pulled the privacy curtain. Sitting down, Ashley could see the all business Kelly, her posture straight and her face guarded, had taken the place of her friend Kelly.

"Ready?"

"Yep."

Chapter Twenty-eight.

Tying the waistband of her sweat pants, Tyler grabbed her cane and looked at her father. "Ready?"

"Yep."

"Good, let's get out of here."

Tyler reached for her bag, but her dad slapped her hand away. "I got it."

"Thanks, Dad."

"No problem, Sparky."

"Cute."

"I know. That's what your mother says all the time." Tyler's dad stopped and looked at Tyler's shocked face. "Sorry, sometimes I forget she's gone."

Tyler grabbed her dad's shoulder and squeezed it. If she had a hard time with things, what could she say to a man who had been married to the same woman for thirty-five years? Nothing, so she just hugged him wis.h.i.+ng she could help him as much as he had helped her. Tyler knew what he was feeling so no words were needed between father and daughter. His weak smile said it all.

"Excuse me," a male voice said. Both turned to see a man pus.h.i.+ng an empty wheelchair towards them. "Hospital rules, you need to go to the door in a wheelchair."

"I might have come in on a gurney, but I'll be d.a.m.ned if I'm going out in one of those," Tyler said pointing her cane at the wheelchair. "Besides, it's bad enough I have this," she said shaking the cane at the poor fellow who was only doing his job. "Now, unless you want me to put this-"

"Tyler."

Tyler looked at her father who had grabbed her forearm and was shaking his head. She didn't want to say anything that might embarra.s.s her father so she toned down her statement.

"I can't sit on anything right now so unless you fill that with about five feather pillows, I'm going out on this," she said holding up the cane again. "So call the doctor if you need to. We'll wait right here for his answer."

Tyler turned and started for the door, her father following close behind, smiling. Jacksons weren't a family that took easily to orders and Tyler's behavior was proof of that. But they did have a selfless need to serve, either publicly or in the military, and Tyler's dad was proud of his children and their successes. Right now though, Tyler was sure her father had wished he was anywhere but next to her when she dressed down the nurse, who was only doing his job.

"I hope you have some pillows in that car, Dad, or I'm going to be screwed. My a.s.s is killing me." Tyler chuckled realizing she had a self-fulfilling prophecy of pain ahead of her.

"I got it taken care of, Honey," he said patting her back.

Warm sun greeted Tyler as she felt it for the first time in days. Taking a deep breath, she reveled in the sweet smell of the flowers that bloomed all around the hospital. A peace descended over Tyler as she finally realized she was putting this part of her life behind her. The shooting, the pain, and the constantly being woken up to have her vitals taken lay behind her. Life was good. The chief walked over to his car sitting in the fire zone.

"Really, Dad?" Tyler blushed at the liberty her father had taken.

"What? It's the chief's car and I'm the chief, right? Besides, you don't have to walk very far this way."

"It's the fire lane, Dad."

"Well thanks, Einstein. I see you got your mother's brains and my good looks," he said holding the door open with a smirk.

Tyler looked in the sedan, ready to sit down when she spotted the eight-inch pad filling the seat. Looking back at her father, who only shrugged, she gently lowered herself to the thick foam. Hmmm, not bad, Tyler thought swinging her long legs into the car.

"But I get to play with the lights and siren, right Daddy?"

"Cute, Honey, Cute," he said closing the door just a little too hard.

The trip home would be a long one and Tyler's stomach made its presence known.

"Hungry?"

"Yeah. I guess I forgot to eat in all the excitement of going home." Tyler slapped her head. "Oh s.h.i.+t. We have to go back, Dad."

"What? Why?"

"I forgot to tell Ashley I was being discharged. s.h.i.+t."

"She's a big girl, Honey. She doesn't need you checking in with her. Besides, I saw Kelly this morning on my way into the hospital, so she's probably with her as we speak."

Tyler looked out the window, the buildings ticking off like roadside markers. Distracted by the thought of Kelly being there, Tyler didn't notice the drive-through or the question her father had asked.

"What?"

"Tyler, what would you like?"

"The usual, Dad. You know me, I like my routine."

"Two dogs, the works and a soda, and I'll have a burger with extra onion, fries, and a diet root beer."

Tyler's dad parked the car under a tree as Tyler handed him the burger. She had wanted to talk to him about what J.J. had told her earlier in the week, but time had gotten away from her, so now was as good a time as any.

"Dad?"

"Huh?"

"Are you suspending me?" Tyler said before shoving the overloaded hotdog in her mouth and taking a bite.

"What?"

"I heard that the captain wants me suspended. So, I'm asking you not as your daughter, but as a firefighter, are you suspending me?"

"Captain Russo wants a lot of things and usually gets them, but this isn't one of them. Besides, the police chief called me personally and told me to thank you for saving Officer Henderson's life," he said popping the last bite of his burger in his mouth.

"Oh, he did, did he?"

Nodding his head, he looked at Tyler and smiled. "Tyler, you need to stop taking risks, though. Luckily you've never put anyone's life in danger. When that happens though, you're out of the department."

Tyler appreciated her dad's honesty. They had always had a great relations.h.i.+p and he had always supported her, no matter what. That was as close to a dressing down as she was going to get, but she knew he was right. Looking back, she had been lucky the few times she had taken a risk and saved lives, but it wouldn't last.

"Maybe a transfer's in order then. I'm not sure it's good for either of us to work together considering I know he wants me out. I mean, Captain Russo wants what he wants and I would be a constant reminder that his judgment was questioned, or worse he would think favoritism was at play because I'm your daughter."

"Tyler, you're a solid firefighter and if he has a problem with my decision he can take it up with me. As for a transfer, no need. Since you're on light duty you'll be at the main station so you're good there. Anything else you want to talk about?"

"As a matter of fact, I have this girl problem I wanted to talk to you about," Tyler said, smiling at her dad.

Chapter Twenty-nine.

The check-out process had been a breeze once the doctor gave Ashley the okay to be discharged. There wasn't anything the hospital could do for her that she couldn't do at home, with the help of a home-health care nurse her mother promised the doctor she would get. She felt bad that she hadn't told Tyler she was being discharged, but she promised herself she would call once she got settled. It had been difficult convincing her mother she was fine, but the idea of staying at her mom's house was overwhelming, to say the least. Ashley looked around the big empty house. She had conceded that bringing Mongrel home wasn't a good idea. Ashley's body ached from the ride home. The bandages pulled tight around her chest made it hard to take a deep breath and her shoulder would catch when she tried to rotate it to keep it loose. Still in her pajamas, she slowly walked around her house, making sure every door was locked and all the windows were closed and locked tight. Even though she knew Leslie was in jail, the nightly ritual would be a hard one to give up.

Mongrel was still at her mother's, because she didn't think she could handle him jumping all over her. The doctor had been specific about her after care routine and it didn't include taking care of her mixed breed, jumping machine. She really did need to take him to some discipline cla.s.ses, but where was the fun in a well-behaved, composed pet? Mongrel needed to be walked daily and if the truth were told she wasn't ready for that kind of commitment yet. She missed him and she knew he missed her, especially when her mother informed her that he wasn't eating. Her mom blamed it on the food she had purchased, but Ashley knew he got like that when she wasn't around.

"Well, at least someone misses me," she said to the empty room.

Ashley looked at the pile of stuff her mom had dumped on the floor of her living room, but on the couch were her uniform pants, hat, badge and utility belt. It had been there when she walked in the door. Kelly must have brought it over, she thought looking at the pile. Her uniform top had been cut off and kept as evidence. Thankfully they thought to keep her pants and other items, giving them to Kelly. Her pants contained her identification, her note pad and other things Ashley would need when she returned to work. Picking up the pants, the smell of blood rushed her senses, taking her back to the day of the shooting. Her heart sped up, and she felt herself flush and get lightheaded. Remembering the sickening ping of the bullet as it bounced off her car and into her body made her flinch. Her stomach felt as if it would revolt right then and there, as the painful memories a.s.saulted her senses. Tossing the clothes towards the laundry room, Ashley straightened up and took a deep cleansing breath.

Ashley jumped at the sound of a car backfiring down the street. She grabbed her tightening chest as a pain shot through it. Was this what she had to look forward to every time she thought she heard a shot? Ashley felt as if she was on sensory overload and she had only been home forty-five minutes. The blood, the torn clothing, and the car backfiring made her feel as if she was speeding over a cliff, and all she could do was hang on for dear life. How did soldiers survive when they came home from a war zone? she wondered. How did they cope with being shot at or worse, injured? How will I cope with my own injuries and trauma? She needed to get a grip. She needed to take back control and remember Leslie was in jail and couldn't hurt her ever again. At least for now.