A
sshole.
“Mrs. Jansen is in my office, you can talk to her in there,” Smitty said when I reached him, then walked off to leave me to walk the short trip to where the shrink was waiting.
“Good morning, Mr. O’Malley,” the tall, gray-haired woman said as I entered Smitty’s office. “Please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”
That’s gonna be impossible, I thought, but sat in one of the two chairs in front of the desk anyway.
We began with questions about the shooting.
“What happened?”
“How’d you feel when the shot went off?”
“What about when you say that your partner was shot?”
It was all pretty standard, much like the interviews I’d been in since the incident took place. Plus, she had an air about her. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but she was easy to talk to.
“Is there anything else you’d like to discuss?” she asked, and I surprised myself when I said, “Yes.”
I told her the same things I’d discussed with Ming after the shooting. About my parents, my brothers, and the thought of losing anyone else in my life had kept me from letting people in. It felt good to get it all out; shit, if I kept this up, I’d probably stopping people on the street to tell them my problems.
“Brady, may I call you Brady?” Mrs. Jansen asked.
“Of course,” I replied.
“I think you would benefit from seeing me again. Or, another counselor, if you’d prefer.”
“Um, I’m comfortable with you,” I said, not wanting to have to start over and share my feelings again, to another stranger.
“Great, here’s my card,” she said, rising from behind the desk. “And, Brady, I think the changes you’ve made with Ming are in the right direction. And with your partner. Work on letting people in … Call my office and we can set something up for next week.”
“Thanks.”
We walked out to a flurry of movement in the station.
“What’s going on?” I asked Doobie, who was standing in the middle of the room helpless, unable to help the team.
His eyes widened when he turned to me.
“Shit, Brady, Zeke’s escaped. They were on the way to court and he got away. Looks like he had some guys helping him from the inside.”
I tried to call Ming, but it went straight to voicemail. I knew she usually turned off her phone when preparing to go to court, and definitely while she was in court. Looking at the clock, I noticed it was only ten thirty, and Ming had said she’d meet Natalie at the court at eleven.
Throwing my phone at Doobie, I said, “We might be able to stop Nat at her friend’s house before she leaves; see if you can get her on the phone. Tell her to stay put.”
I told Smitty we were going to check the house.
“Just don’t do anything stupid, either of you. We’re heading to the court, and Marsha’s putting out an APB. We’ll get him.”
“No answer,” Doobie said as I tore down the street.
We were parking in front of the house in minutes, and when I saw Natalie walking down the sidewalk with her friend, surprised to see us rushing out of the car, I felt a wave of relief.
“Get back inside,” I ordered as we ushered the women back up the way they’d come, our heads swiveling to keep an eye on our surroundings. “Zeke escaped.”
“Oh my God,” Nat gasped, collapsing onto the sofa when she got inside. “Do you think he’s coming after me?”