Russell Andrews - Hades

He looked up. Saw his father standing in the doorway. Justin's gun was in his hand. Jonathan, pale and trembling, stared at the faceless man on the floor. He walked into the kitchen, grabbed a towel from the counter, held it against his son's cheek to stop the flow of blood. Justin took the gun from his father, stepped back, turned, and vomited violently. Pain surged through his chest again and his ribs. Then he straightened up, did his best to smile weakly at his father, walked slowly past him, touching him lightly on the arm as he went into the living room. He saw Roger Mallone, standing now, propped up against a corner. Roger nodded, a sign he was all right, an acknowledgment of what had just happened. Just went to the phone. He picked it up and dialed.

When Reggie answered, Justin said, "You'd better get over here. And you'd better call your boss."

She heard his tone, didn't ask what had happened, just said, "Anything else?"

And he said, "Yeah. I think an ambulance might be a good idea, too."

Reggie was superb from the moment she walked in the door. She took in the scene in the living room, strode past the three men, saw the body in the kitchen, said nothing about it, came back into the living room. Assessing the situation flawlessly, she touched Justin on the back, let her hand linger there for just a moment-it's all she had to do to let him know she understood what had happened and what he'd done. She made Roger sit in the easy chair and found a blanket in which to wrap him. She also poured him a stiff scotch. She did the same for Jonathan; but when she saw that he was alert and lucid, she asked him if he was up to talking, and he was. He told her, clinically and completely, what had happened. She touched his hand, knowing human contact was important sometimes, could be more comforting than any words, and had him sit down, too.

She called the East End Harbor police station, got Gary Jenkins. She identified herself and told him to get over to Justin's house immediately. Gary was surprised to hear her voice, started to ask questions, but she cut him off, told him that with his boss on suspension, this was his decision to make, and only his, so he'd better make it fast. He arrived in five minutes.

Things were wrapped up quickly.

An ambulance took the body to the Southampton Hospital morgue, and Reggie arranged for fingerprinting to take place as soon as the body arrived there. She tried to get Justin into the same ambulance, but he wouldn't budge, didn't respond at all to her gentle urging other than to shake his head once, and she didn't press him. One of the orderlies took a look at him, said, "I think you should listen to her, sir-you don't look too good," but Reggie shooed him away and said she'd get him there on her own.

Officer Jenkins called the station and, after clearing things with Reggie, he and Mike Haversham cleaned up Justin's kitchen, putting everything back in place and even mopping the floor. Haversham got violently ill when trying to clean off the front burner-he realized almost immediately what he was trying to scrape off-but Gary Jenkins took a deep breath and did the job. When he was done, he too had to rush into the bathroom.

When they were finished with the kitchen, they also straightened up the living room. Justin just sat on the couch, saying nothing. His breathing had slowed down, but it was still coming in short gasps, and when he took in too deep a breath, he winced in pain. Jonathan, too, sat quietly; he appeared calm and in control, more concerned about his son than anyone or anything else. He, too, had made one quick attempt to get Justin to go to Southampton in the ambulance, but Reggie also waved him off and he stopped pushing.

Reggie spent fifteen or twenty minutes talking quietly to Roger. She talked to him about the shock of violence and how he was right to have been afraid. She spoke soothingly and calmly, and gradually he came around. His alertness returned and he finally looked at her and said, "Thank you, I'm fine now. I just never thought… I never saw anything like… I didn't know…"

"It's all right," she told him. "No one should know about things like that. No one should see things like that."

When the house was straightened up and everything was back in order, she went over to Justin. She took his hand and said, "I want to take you to the hospital now. I know you're fine, but you have some wounds that have to be looked at. I'll call ahead so you won't have to wait, but you need to go and we should go now. Okay?"

He nodded. She helped him stand and took him out to her car. She asked Jonathan and Roger to wait at the house, asked both young cops to wait with them. She said she thought they'd be back in a couple of hours.

In the fifteen-minute ride to the hospital, she told him she'd reported everything that happened to Zach Fletcher. She said Agent Fletcher was concerned about Justin's health, said that any conversation could wait until he was up to it. He nodded. In the car she asked him if he had any idea why this had happened. He didn't answer. Didn't nod or shake his head. He made no response at all.

It turned out that her two-hour estimate was off-they were back in East End Harbor in a little over an hour. Justin took twelve stitches in his cheek and four stitches to close a small gash over his left eye. He did have a broken rib, and the doctor in the emergency room wrapped him in a bandage that left him feeling mummified. Burn ointment was lathered on his hand and that was wrapped also. He was given a solid dose of painkillers and told to take them whenever he needed them. Justin didn't speak much during his treatment. He answered the doctors' questions with one- or two-word answers, and Reggie made it clear that the doctors were not to ask too many questions.

When they arrived back at Justin's house, both Justin and Reggie were surprised to find out it wasn't yet 8 p.m.

"I think the plane should take you both back tonight," she said to Jonathan Westwood. "I called the pilot from the hospital. He's waiting at the airport. Gary or Mike can take you."

They were all surprised when Justin said, "We're going with them."

She turned to him and said, "Jay, that's not a good idea."

"Doesn't matter if it's good or not. And if you don't want to go, that's fine. But I'm going up there now." She said nothing, simply tilted her head-that was the way she asked the question-and he said, "I think I'm beginning to understand what's going on. And if I'm right, we need to see Lenny Rube. In person. I don't think he'll be taking my calls."

Jonathan started to argue, to say that they could all go up the next morning, but Justin waved him off. Looking at Reggie, he said, "We can see him and come straight back. But we need to see him tonight."

She looked at Jonathan and shrugged.

Ten minutes later they were on their way to the East Hampton Airport.

The airplane ride was short and relatively quiet. Roger had recovered enough to go over some of the fine points of the various stock deals he'd uncovered. Talking about it seemed to help him regain his strength. Reggie was hearing most of this for the first time, but she caught on quickly-asked a few questions for clarification, mostly kept quiet and absorbed what she was listening to.

When they landed in Providence and were disembarking, Jonathan handed the pilot a thousand dollars and asked him how long he could wait to take Justin and Reggie back that night. The pilot said, "As long as you'd like, Mr. Westwood."

On the ground, Justin touched his father on the shoulder, said, "I'm sorry you had to see that tonight. I'm sorry you had to be there. I would never have put you in danger like that if I had known."

Jonathan only said, "Thank you for saving our lives." And then: "I love you."