Chapter Fourteen #2
Still laughing, he got out of the car, shut the door and took off jogging into the station.
“Freaking pain in my ass,” she muttered as she pulled out of the station and back into traffic, paying no mind whatsoever to whether her detail was following her. Keeping up was their problem, not hers. The phone rang, and she took the call from the department shrink, Dr. Trulo, on the Bluetooth.
“What’s up, Doc?” she asked, amusing herself.
“Checking in about our first meeting tomorrow night.”
“Ahhh…”
“Honestly, Sam. Don’t tell me you forgot.”
“I didn’t forget.”
“Liar.”
“Everyone is a comedian today. What’s the plan?”
“I’ve reserved the lieutenants’ lounge for seven o’clock for the grief group meeting.”
Hearing that, Sam wanted to scream at realizing she’d miss another night with her kids, even if it was for a good cause. “I always forget we have a lounge.”
“You do, and you were supposed to reserve it. It’s a good thing I checked.”
“One thing you need to realize about working on a special project with me, Doc, is that you always have to check.”
His laughter rang through the car’s speakers and made her smile.
Where she’d once resisted his attempts to shrink her, he’d since become a trusted friend and colleague.
“I figured that out a while ago, which is why I also called all the people on your list to let them know our first meeting is scheduled for tomorrow night.”
“You’re nothing if not thorough.”
“You’ve got a lot on your plate. I don’t mind doing a little extra. The only one on your list I couldn’t get in touch with was Roni Connolly.”
“And she’s the one I most wanted to get there.” Sam sighed, resigned to another delay in getting to her family. “I’ll stop to talk to her on the way home. See if I can convince her to join us.”
“Will I need to remind you tomorrow that you have somewhere to be tomorrow night?”
“Might not be a bad idea.”
“You’ll be glad to know that your friend Officer Charles has agreed to help with the administrative aspects of our group.”
“Is that so? Well, that’s awesome news.” The young officer had impressed the hell out of Sam with her attention to detail in planning the police funeral for her father. She’d pleaded with the chief to share Officer Charles with her and was thrilled to know she’d be involved in the grief group.
“It is indeed. She can’t make the first meeting because she’s on duty, but she’s going to be helping behind the scenes. You should talk to her about her own history with violent crime and how she came to be a police officer. Fascinating young woman.”
“I’ll do that, and yes, she is.”
“All right, then. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Thanks for all you did to get this off the ground, Doc.”
“It was your idea. I took the ball and ran with it.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Have a good evening, Lieutenant.”
“You, too.”
Though everything in her desperately wanted to get home to her family, she took a detour back into town and parked outside Roni Connolly’s building. In the vestibule, she pressed the button for 3C and waited for a response. When there was no answer, she pressed the button a second time.
“Yes?”
“Roni, it’s Sam Holland. Could I come up for a minute?”
“Um, sure.” She buzzed her into the building, and Sam went inside, letting the door slam behind her.
Hearing pounding on the door had her looking back to see the two agents glowering at her. She went back to let them in. “See if you can keep up, gentlemen.” Without waiting for them to reply, she spun around and took the stairs to the third floor two at a time. Outside 3C, she knocked.
Roni opened the door and stepped aside to invite Sam inside.
Sam held up a hand to the two agents, who’d followed her up the stairs. “Wait here.”
She could tell Vernon wanted to object to being told to wait outside, but Sam didn’t stick around to hear his concerns.
“This is a nice surprise,” Roni said in a dull, flat tone that was in direct contrast to the woman she’d been before Sam had shattered her world with the news of her young husband’s senseless murder.
She’d known her for two minutes before she’d had to deliver that news, and even she could see the difference.
Roni had dark hair that fell to below her shoulders, and while her brown eyes were still sad, they’d lost some of the shock that’d been so present the last time Sam saw her.
Sam followed her to sit on the sofa. “How’ve you been holding up?” She hated herself for the stupid question. How did she think the young widow was holding up?
“Good minutes, bad minutes.” Roni shrugged. “You know how it is. You just lost your dad.”
“I do know, but my dad was a lot older than Patrick…”
“A loss is a loss, no matter when it happens.”
“True. Remember that grief group I mentioned a while back?”
Roni nodded. “What about it?”
“The first meeting is tomorrow night at MPD HQ. I have no idea if the group will be any help at all, but I’d like to invite you to come if you’re able to. I have to believe it’ll do some good, you know?”
“Maybe. I’m back to work, and some days are busier than others. I’ll have to see how I am tomorrow, but I do appreciate the invite.”
“Of course.”
“It’s nice of you to come by to check on me. Darren has told me you’ve asked about me, and that’s such a huge honor with all the people you must deal with.” Roni wrote obituaries for the Washington Star, where Darren worked.
“I’ve thought of you so often.”
“It means a lot.”
“Listen, I’m going to be honest with you. Maybe too honest.”
“Um, okay…”
Sam was gratified to see a hint of amusement in the younger woman’s eyes.
“I’m a shit friend. I’m busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. I’ve got no time for anything.
I have no idea what I’m even doing here, but I like you.
I’d like to be your friend if you could use an extra one.
And I’d totally understand if seeing me is too much of a painful reminder of the worst day of your life. Wait… Are you laughing?”
Roni waved a hand in front of her face. “Sorry, but that was funny. I’m a shit friend, but I’d like to be friends with you. Way to sell yourself, Lieutenant.”
“My friends call me Sam.”
“Sam,” she said with a small smile. “And I’d be honored to be friends with a woman I admire so much.”
“Oh jeez. Don’t do that. I’m a red-hot mess.”
“Well, you’d never know it from the outside looking in.”
“If I let you into the inside, you have to promise to not look too hard at the messy parts.”
“I promise. Can I tell you something?”
“You can tell me anything. We’re friends now.”
“Some of my closest friends from before Patrick died have disappeared off the face of the earth. I never hear from them or see them.”
“People don’t know what to do with other people’s grief. I’ve seen that in my own life.”
“I want you to know, as my new friend, it means a lot to me that you went out of your way at the end of what was probably a hideously long day to come by and see me. You’re already doing way better than most of my longtime friends, which is admirable for a shit friend.”
“I like you,” Sam said, laughing.
“So you said.”
“If I pick you up tomorrow night around six forty-five, would you be more or less likely to attend our meeting?”
“Slightly more likely.”
“Then I’ll be outside tomorrow at six forty-five. Come if you want. Don’t come if you’re not up to it. I’ll come every Tuesday until you decide you might be ready.”
“That’s a lot to ask of a new friend.”
“Maybe you can help me change my track record for being a shit friend.”
“Maybe so. Tell me this, girlfriend, what’s up with your husband deciding not to run for president?”
“Heard about that, huh?”
“Safe to say the whole world has heard. It’s the only story cable news is covering.”
“Oh joy.”
“Is that why you’ve got a couple of big dudes following you around?”
“Yep. Nick asked me nicely.”
“Just so we’re straight—I’m devastated he’s not running. I think he’d be a remarkable, inspirational leader.”
“Thank you. I think so, too, but between us friends, I’m thrilled he’s going to be a remarkable, inspirational father to our kids instead.”
“I get that, and I respect it, but damn… Other people are losing it.”
“So I’ve heard. I try to stay away from that crap so I can act like it’s not happening.”
“Good plan. Don’t turn on the TV tonight.”
“Thanks for the advice. I’d better get home so I can see my little ones before they’re asleep for the night.”
“I’d love to meet my new friend’s family at some point.”
Sam stood to leave. “That can be arranged. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe I won’t. Either way is fine.”
Roni walked her to the door. “Am I allowed to hug my new friend?”
“Very briefly.”
Roni laughed as she hugged Sam. “Thank you so much for the visit, for being my new shit friend, for all of it.”
Sam hugged her back. “You may live to regret this friendship.”
“I don’t think I will.”
Sam handed her one of her cards. “My number’s on there. Use it anytime you need a shit friend.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Feeling good about the visit, Sam left the apartment and went down the stairs, hearing the heavy footsteps of the agents behind her.
Outside, cold air reminded her that the long winter was coming, and while the winter used to drive her crazy with its endlessness, now it was a chance to hunker down with her love and their kids.
Winter didn’t piss her off anymore, but plenty of things still did. Such as the agents following her.
She felt good about the conversation with Roni and to see the young woman doing slightly better than she’d been the last time Sam saw her.
She hadn’t gone in there planning to offer friendship.
That’d been spontaneous, but it had felt good to make that overture and to have Roni accept it.
She wasn’t someone who ran around making new friends on the regular, but she suspected Roni would be worth the effort.
From the first day Sam had met her—on the worst day of Roni’s life—Sam had felt a connection with her, and she was glad they’d be keeping in touch.