I GOT HOME a little earlier than usual, but I now had on my iPad copies of police reports from White Plains and Hollywood, Florida, along with a report from the Westchester County Medical Examiner. My initial look through the details of these retired cops’ deaths told me that the investigating detectives hadn’t suspected anything beyond either suicide or accidental causes.
I made it all the way to the kitchen before any of my kids even noticed I was home. Chrissy jumped up from her homework to give me a hug. Jane, who was walking out of the kitchen, gave me a gentle pat on the belly. At least it was better than the stern look my teenager often threw my way these days.
Trent sat at the opposite end of the dining room table, doing his own homework. I leaned in as a concerned parent, willing to offer assistance.
“Whatcha working on?”
“Algebra.”
I tried not to recoil too violently. I patted my son on his shoulder, mumbled, “Good luck,” and eased my way into the living room. Ricky and Eddie were playing a video game from the couch. The rest of the kids had to be around here somewhere.
I took notice of my wife, Mary Catherine, sitting on a lounge chair on our balcony. She wasn’t typically one for “lounging” during the day. In fact, I could easily imagine Mary Catherine calling an Army general too soft for giving his soldiers an hour off during a combat tour. Maybe that’s an exaggeration. But maybe it’s not.
The flip side was that, as exacting as her standards could be, Mary Catherine was also the kindest and most loving wife and mother imaginable. Though we were technically still newlyweds, for the better part of a decade now she’d been acting as mother to the ten children I’d adopted with my late first wife. And now we were embarking on a brand-new experience for the both of us, being in the early months of expecting an eleventh child after a grueling IVF process.
The more I thought about a new baby around the house, the more terrifying it became. I’d never considered having ten kids a huge challenge. We had fun. We worked well together. And now that a couple of the kids were older, life had gotten a lot easier for me. I didn’t know why I kept thinking adding one more would drive me over the edge. I calmed myself down and tried looking at it from a different perspective.
I had to admit the idea of a smiling infant held a lot of appeal. I loved a baby’s laughter. I wanted this baby every bit as much as Mary Catherine did. The kids were on board as well.
I went to the balcony and leaned down to kiss her hello, taking a moment to look at her. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Just a little tired. I thought I should get off my feet for a few moments. What about you? How was the funeral?”
I shrugged. That’s like asking how someone enjoyed their visit to the dentist. Most people don’t like funerals. Unless you’re Rob Trilling, who was a little odd. I said, “I might’ve agreed to do something for Celeste Cantor.”
“Something like an investigation, or something like maintenance around her apartment?”
Mary Catherine’s Irish accent made most things sound cheerful and funny. Basically, any time she told a joke, I laughed out loud. This time was no exception. I shook my head. “It’s not a big deal. I should be able to clear it up before Harry gets back from vacation.”
Mary Catherine smiled. “It’s hard to think of Lieutenant Harry Grissom actually leaving the job for a few weeks to visit a beach in the Caribbean. I’m glad you’ve always recognized there is a whole world outside of the NYPD. Of course, Harry never had any kids, so he doesn’t understand how much time a real family can take.”
“He knows how much time a wife can take. He’s already experimented with those three times,” I said. Then I added, “This vacation might have something to do with Lois Frang, the Brooklyn Democrat reporter he met during the sniper investigation. She seems nice.”
Mary Catherine giggled and sat up in the lounger. I gave her a hand, helping her to her feet. She used the opportunity to give me a hug. We walked into the living room together.
I saw both Ricky and Eddie immediately set down their video-game controllers. They never did anything like that when I walked into a room. Mary Catherine was definitely influencing these kids.
As we started toward the dining room, I noticed a hitch in Mary Catherine’s step. Then she started to sag. I reached to support her at the elbow, guiding her toward the recliner. Just as Mary Catherine plopped into the chair, she was out. I mean full-out unconscious.
Commotion brewed around me. Jane stepped in from the dining room to see what was going on. She immediately took control of the other children and started barking orders like a Marine Corps gunnery sergeant.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever experienced panic like this before.
I had to get Mary Catherine to the hospital. Now.