Chapter Thirteen

"Are you sure you can't stay for lunch?" Kate asked.

"Hmm?" Seated at the fifties-style Formica table in her mother's kitchen, Reese absently traced her index finger down the length of Reggie's arm, around the bend of her wrist, and over her tiny hand and even tinier fingers. She turned her own ringer over and rested it in Reggie's palm, fascinated to see the little fist close around it.

Smiling, Kate placed both hands on Reese's shoulders and massaged the firm muscles, amazed still at the tall, strong woman her daughter had become. "Lunch?"

"Tory says she can't see things, but look at how bright her eyes are and the way she keeps looking all around. I'm pretty sure she knows what's going on."

"I imagine that Tory's right about her inability to focus just yet," Kate noted judiciously as she kissed the top of Reese's head. "But I'm also certain that she's taking in the whole constellation of sounds and sights and touches and smells in her little universe." She resisted the urge to kiss Reese's head one more time and merely squeezed her shoulders again. "And you and Tory are her whole world."

Reese glanced up from Reggie in her baby seat, grinning. "It's amazing."

"That it is." Kate moved across the small kitchen and leaned against the counter by the white enamel sink. "Tory's at work?"

"Yes. She's supposed to be working six hours today."

Kate said nothing.

"I suppose her first day back is going to be pretty hectic," Reese noted as she leaned over to kiss Reggie's forehead. "Did she tell you about hiring KT?"

"We talked about it last evening, but I didn't know that she had decided for certain." Kate took the coffeepot from the warmer and refilled her cup before gesturing to Reese, who shook her head. "I'm glad that she's going to have help."

"Me, too." Reese stood and walked to the window that looked out on a small wooden deck and a narrow strip of sandy beach leading down to Provincetown Harbor. A red kayak came slowly into view followed by a group of yellow ones, a class from the boat rental place in town floundering along behind it like a disorganized line of baby ducks. She watched the leader, thinking how much she missed her morning drive to Herring Cove and the pleasant anticipation of waiting for Tory to appear on the horizon in her own red kayak. "It's funny how it turned out to be KT."

"Do you believe in coincidences?" Kate asked quietly.

Reese turned and met her mother's eyes. "I'm a cop. I learned a long time ago that there are no coincidences."

"Do you have a theory about what it means, then?" Kate studied her daughter's expressive eyes, thinking how like Reese's father's they were. Sharp and discerning and so, so intelligent. Reese saw everything with such clarity and didn't shrink from the sharp edges of truth. Kate imagined that had Reese been a combat soldier, she would have been a great leader, just like her father. But Reese was so very different from him in one critical way. One had only to see the way Reese looked at Tory or their baby to know that her heart was completely unguarded. As a woman, Kate appreciated that; as a mother, she worried.

"I don't think much about the metaphysical nature of things," Reese said with a wry smile, "but if I did, I'd say that when you're wounded, your instincts are to head for home."

Kate's eyes widened. "Does that bother you?"

Reese lifted her shoulder. "That KT came to Tory now?" Reese glanced at the baby, who in the midst of vigorously flailing her arms and legs was malting small happy sounds. "I can't imagine not loving Tory, so I figure KT must still, too." She heard Kate's swift intake of breath. "Do you still love my father?"

"Oh, you have such a way of taking me off guard," Kate said with a shaky laugh. She glanced down at the wedding ring she wore, the one that Jean had put there only weeks after the two of them had fled from their lives, for their lives, leaving pieces of their hearts behind. She looked up at the largest part of her heart, realizing again the terrible sacrifice that had been forced upon her when her husband had made her choose between Jean and her child. "No, I don't love him. But I remember loving him. I was a different woman then, and he was a different man. I wouldn't go to him now under any circumstances, but I never loved him the way that KT and Tory must have loved each other."

"No, I guess not." Reese slid her hands into her pockets and rocked back and forth. "Tory loved her very much, and there are places in her that aren't...healed. She'll be better when she settles things between them...things they should've settled a long time ago but couldn't."

"How do you know about those things?" Kate asked curiously. "Did Tory tell you?"

"She didn't have to. When we first met, she didn't trust me, and she didn't trust love." Reese's jaw tightened, and her voice dropped a notch. "KT did that to her. There was a time I wanted to kick KT's ass because of that."

Kate laughed. "And now you don't?"

Reese laughed, too. "Not too much. Tory can take care of herself, and if she can't if KT hurts her I will personally put her on a plane back to Boston."

"You've turned out to be a remarkable woman, Reese," Kate said as she linked her arm through Reese's. "I'm so glad that you're my daughter, and that you and Tory are together."

"Thanks." Reese cleared her throat, which was suddenly tight. "It's...nice...to have you and Jean here for Reggie, for all of us. It's nice...being a family."

"Yes," Kate whispered, "it is."

"And the next tune you ran out of medication," Tory said in a gently chiding tone as she opened the door of the treatment room, "call Randy and we'll phone in a refill. You need to take the blood pressure pills every day, or they're not going to work."

"All right, honey," the octogenarian called cheerfully. "I'll remember."

Smiling, Tory turned and nearly bumped into KT, who was leaning against the wall just outside the room. Her smile faltered as she pulled the door closed. "Yes?"

"It's a far cry from the ER on a Saturday night, isn't it?" KT observed.

"It's not without its occasional challenges," Tory remarked dryly, thinking of the variety of problems she saw. Patients of every description crowded her waiting room every day young, old, male, female, representing varying ethnic and social backgrounds and with all nature of problems, from the common cold to trauma and prenatal difficulties. "But I suppose it lacks the cachet you're used to."

"I wasn't putting it down," KT said quietly.

Tory took a deep breath. "No, you weren't. I'm sorry." She cradled the patient chart against her chest and pushed her hair away from her face with her other hand. "I'm a little thrown by this situation. I'm not used to working with anyone, and I barely had time to adjust to Dan. Now...you..."

"I guess I'll take a little more getting used to than he did."

"How's your hand?" Tory asked, noting that KT held the splinted appendage angled across her chest. From what she could see, KT's ringers were swollen.

"It's okay." Almost unconsciously, KT slid her right hand into the pocket of her navy linen trousers and counted the remaining pain pills. She'd need to wait another two hours at least. "But I have a three-year-old with a lip laceration, and I...can't handle it by myself."

"Alt right. I'll be right there. Just let me get the prescriptions for Mrs. Klein." Tory turned away, refusing to think about what that admission must've cost KT. "Just tell Sally to set up the suture tray."

"Already done."

Five minutes later, Tory joined KT and her clinic nurse, Sally, in the treatment room.

"Hi, Andy," Tory said to the small, young blond who cuddled a cherubic, tear-streaked towhead against her shoulder. "Patty been climbing trees again?"

"Swing set. She saw her brother do it yesterday and must have decided she could climb higher. I was hanging out the wash, and she was up the side like a monkey before I even noticed." There was a note of pride in the young mother's voice. "She only cried for a minute."

"Well then, we'll be sure not to give her any reason for more tears." Tory inclined her head until she was almost nose to nose with the child. "Hi, Patty. Are you going to let me fix your lip?"

Dark eyes observed her warily.

"I bet it was a very big swing set," Tory gestured to the treatment table. "Put her down over there, Andy."

Once the child was situated with her mother sitting on the far side of the treatment table away from the instruments, holding Patty's hand, Tory took her first careful look at the laceration. It was a little over a centimeter in length, vertically oriented, and extending through the vermilion border the junction of the pink portion of the lip and the surrounding pale skin. That narrowed junction required precise approximation or else there would be a color mismatch at the edge of the lip, making the resulting scar very noticeable. Tory looked up at KT. "Pretty straightforward."

"Yes." For anyone with two hands.

"I'll take care of this if you wouldn't mind seeing the patient in four."

"Sure," KT said. She brushed her fingers over the small blond head. "See you later, kiddo."

When Tory finished fifteen minutes later, she walked down the hall and looked into the small office she had assigned KT earlier that day. KT sat at the desk, writing notes in a chart. "Got a minute?"

"Sure." KT pushed the chart aside and leaned back in the chair. "All done with the lip repair?"

"Yes. She was a trooper."

KT smiled. "Nice kid. Nice mother, too."

"Andrea's straight and happily married."

"Jesus, Vi…Tory!" KT tossed her pen down onto the desktop in frustration, "I wasn't going to ask her for a date."

Tory bit back another careless response and sank into a metal folding chair opposite KT's desk. "Maybe your working here isn't such a good idea. I can't seem to be around you without being furious."

"You weren't furious in the hospital when Reese was hurt or when Reggie was born," KT snapped.

"I had other things on my mind like the fact that my lover might be dying!" Tory looked away, the memories of Reese's accident still fresh, still painful, after half a year. "And I...appreciate all you did for us. Both times."

"Jesus." KT let out an exasperated breath. "I'm not asking for thanks. I wanted to help. It's what I do. And it was you, for Christ's sake. Don't you think I wanted to help you?"

"I don't know." Tory brought angry eyes back to KT's. "I really don't know anything about you."

"Yes, you do," KT said softly. "You know everything about me. Nothing's changed for me since the day you since the day we separated."

"I'm sorry to hear that." There was no anger in Tory's voice now, only sadness. "Everything has changed for me." She closed her eyes, aware for the first time how tired she was. She'd only been working five hours, and she was exhausted. Her breasts were full and sore, and she realized that she needed to pump. With a sigh, she opened her eyes and smiled wanly. "We can't have this conversation here. There's work to be done, and neither of us is quite functioning at full power. Can we just agree not to discuss personal matters?"

"Sure." KT took in Tory's pale features and drawn expression, "Why don't you take off. I can handle the rest of the patients."

Tory laughed, genuinely amused. "You always did overestimate yourself, O'Bannon. You have no idea what you're in for here."

KT laughed with her. "I can be very resourceful when I need to be."

"Oh, I have no doubt." Tory stood. "I need to take a few minutes' break, but then I'll be good for another hour or so."

"Okay, but don't push. It's just your first day back."

Tory nodded. "Keep your hand elevated. Your fingers are swelling."

"Yes, Dr. King," KT replied lightly. She followed Tory into the hall and headed toward the reception area as Tory stepped into her office and closed the door. Randy looked up with his usual full-combat-mode expression as she approached, and KT held up her good hand to forestall any comments. Then she rested her elbow on the counter and leaned forward so that only he could hear, "Tory needs something to eat. Order something she likes and have it delivered, will you? Tell her you ordered it."

"Is she sick?" Randy's normally sultry voice hardened with concern.

KT shook her head. "No, just tired and too stubborn to admit it."

"Well, I'm glad to see that nothing's changed while she was away." Randy's elegant eyebrow arched as he regarded KT intently. "I'm really not prepared to like you."

"I got that impression. Is it something I said or do you just not like mainlanders?"

"It's because you must be an idiot to have let Tory go, and you hurt her besides."

"Guilty on both counts." KT's expression never changed, although her stomach abruptly tied itself into a knot. "Does everyone know?"

"No, only those people who love her."

"Will you please get her lunch?"

"Of course," Randy hesitated, then added, "What would you like? Sandwich or salad?"

"Roast beef, Russian dressing, black bread. Thanks."

"You're welcome." Randy picked up the phone to order and, as he did, said over his shoulder, "You should keep your arm elevated. Your fingers are swollen."

"Thanks," KT muttered as she headed back to work, wondering just what it was going to take to atone.

"Do you really think Ms. Pelosi is going to let us talk to him this time?" Bri asked as Reese pulled into the emergency room parking lot at the rear of Hyannis Hospital for the third time in three days.

"She said he was ready to give us a statement."

"What do you think that means?"

Reese settled her cap over her brows as she climbed out of cruiser. Walking around to join Bri, she said, "I think it means she's pretty certain that Robert Bridger is innocent of any serious crime, and I think she probably wants to aid the investigation. She strikes me as a good attorney doing what good attorneys do, which is protect her client." She shouldered through the swinging door into the long, brightly lit corridor that ran from the emergency entrance toward the main hospital lobby. "It's just that good lawyers can sometimes be a pain in the behind for us."

"Were you a good attorney?"

Reese cast Bri a sidelong glance, then grinned. "I suppose I was. But the JAG Corps was too much talk and not enough action. Everyone was surprised when I switched to policing, but it suited me better. Still does."

Bri grinned, too. "Yeah. Nothing beats being out in the cruiser,"

"Well," Reese said, "not much else does." She was about to add more when Trey Pelosi came around the corner, a cup of vending-room coffee in her right hand and a file folder in the other. Today, the attorney wore navy blue linen slacks, low-heeled, backless sandals, and a silk blouse with fine white and blue stripes.

"Hello," Trey said in greeting. "You made good time."

"Everyone is going in the opposite direction," Reese replied. "Thanks for calling us."

"I'm happy to. Robert is feeling much better and would like to speak with you."

"Really." Reese fell into step on one side of Trey while Bri walked on the other. "That's good news."

Trey effortlessly juggled the file folder and the coffee cup and extracted a single sheet of a computer printout. "You'll want to take a look at this."

Still walking, Reese quickly scanned what turned out to be the toxicology report, then wordlessly handed it to Bri. "Thank you."

"I just got it this morning." Trey slowed just before reaching the elevators. She glanced from Reese to Bri and back to Reese. "Robert is basically a very good kid. He's scared, and he's penitent, and he's willing to provide you with as much information as he can."

Reese appreciated that the attorney had lowered her sword for a moment of truth, and in appreciation of that fact, Reese lowered hers as well. "I'm not interested in going after him unless I don't have any other choice. I want the people behind this. I doubt that Robert and his companion are the first kids to run into trouble because of these parties, and I know they won't be the last. I want to shut them down."

"Then you and I are in complete agreement, Sheriff." Reese smiled and Trey Pelosi's eyes warmed in response.

"I'd rather you not advertise that, Counselor. It would be bad for my reputation."

"I imagine that your reputation would survive, Sheriff." Reese pretended not to notice the brief brush of Trey Pelosi's fingers over the top of her hand as the three of them stepped into the elevator.