Witness in Death

"I can't." She turned, saw the room was momentarily empty. Let herself crumple. "Oh God," she murmured with her face pressed to his shoulder. "He got this stupid grin on his face when I told him I was pulling him with me. I thought I had him covered, then everything went wrong. People trampling people, screaming. I couldn't get through fast enough. I didn't get to him in time."

He knew her well enough to say nothing, just to hold on until she steadied herself. "I need to know something. You've got strings here," she said, easing back. "Pull a few, would you, and find out what's happening in surgery?"

"All right." He took the recycled cup out of her hand, set it aside. "Sit down for a few minutes. I'll go pull those strings."

She tried to sit, managed to for nearly a full minute before she was up and after the coffee again. As she drew another cup, a woman stepped into the room.

She was tall, slim, and had Trueheart's guileless eyes. "Excuse me." She looked around the room, back at Eve. "I'm looking for a Lieutenant Dallas."

"I'm Dallas."

"Oh yes, I should have known. Troy's told me so much about you. I'm Pauline Trueheart, Troy's mother."

Eve expected panic, grief, anger, demands, and instead stared blankly as Pauline walked to her, held out a hand. "Ms. Trueheart, I very much regret that your son was injured in the line of duty. I'd like you to know that he performed that duty in an exemplary fashion."

"He'd be so pleased to hear you say so. He admires you a great deal. In fact, I hope it won't embarrass you, but I think Troy has a little crush on you."

Instead of drinking the coffee, Eve set it down. "Ms. Trueheart, your son was under my hand when he was injured."

"Yes, I know. The counselors explained what happened. I've already spoken with the patient liaison. They're doing everything they can to help him. He'll be fine."

She smiled, and still holding Eve's hand, drew her toward the seats. "In my heart I'd know if it was otherwise. He's all I have, you see."

Eve sat on the table, facing Pauline as the woman lowered into a chair. "He's young and strong."

"Oh yes, and a fighter. He's wanted to be a policeman as long as I can remember. It means so much to him, that uniform. He's a wonderful young man, Lieutenant, has never been anything but a joy to me." She glanced toward the doorway. "I hate thinking about him in pain."

"Ms. Trueheart…" Eve fumbled, tried again. "I don't believe he was in pain. At least, he was unconscious when I reached him."

"That's good, that helps. Thank you."

"How can you thank me? I put him in this position."

"Of course you didn't." She took Eve's hand again. "You must be an excellent commanding officer, to care so much. My son wants to serve. Serve and protect, isn't that right?"

"Yes."

"I worry. It's very difficult for those of us who love the ones who serve and protect. But I believe in Troy. Absolutely. I'm sure your mother would say the same about you."

Eve jerked back, bore down on the ache that centered in her gut. "I don't have a mother."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Well." She touched Eve's wedding ring. "Someone who loves you, then. He believes in you."

"Yeah." Eve looked over, met Roarke's eyes as he came in. "I guess he does."

"Ms. Trueheart." Roarke crossed to her. "I've just been informed that your son will be out of surgery shortly."

Eve felt the quick, light tremble of Pauline's fingers. "Are you a doctor?"

"No. I'm Lieutenant Dallas's husband."

"Oh. Did they tell you how – what Troy's condition is?"

"He's stabilized. They're very hopeful. One of the surgical team will speak with you in a little while."

"Thank you. They said there was a chapel on this floor. I think I'll sit there until they're ready for me. You look so tired, Lieutenant. Troy wouldn't mind if you went home and got some rest."

When she was alone with Roarke again, Eve simply braced her elbows on her thighs and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. "Tell me what you didn't tell her. Give it to me straight."

"The spinal injury is giving them some concern."

"Is he paralyzed?"

"They're hopeful it's temporary, due to swelling. If it proves to be more serious, there are treatments with high success rates."

"He needs to be a cop. Can you get a specialist?"

"I've taken care of it."

She stayed in the same position, rocked a little. "I owe you."

"Don't insult me, Eve."

"Did you see his mother? See how she was? How can anyone be that strong, that brave?"

Roarke cuffed her wrists, drew her hands down. "Look in the mirror."

She shook her head. "It's love with her. She'll will him to be safe and whole and happy because she loves him. I think she'll pull it off, too."

"Mother love is a fierce and powerful force."

Steadier, she rolled her aching shoulders. "Do you ever think of yours? Your mother?"

He didn't answer immediately, and the hesitation had her frowning at him. "I was going to say no," he explained. "But that was knee-jerk. Yes, I suppose I do, occasionally. I wonder now and then what became of her."

"And why she left you?"

"I know why she left me." The steel was back in his voice, in his eyes. Cold steel. "I held no particular interest for her."

"I don't know why mine left me. That's the worst of it, I think. The not knowing why. The not remembering." She hissed out a breath, a

"I guess I've got mothers on the brain. I need to talk to Carly about hers."

She got to her feet, shoved back the fatigue. "I want to check on Stiles's condition, interview him if he's conscious. I'm going to have to go into Central, file my report. I have a meet with the commander first thing in the morning."

He rose as well. Her face was pale, her eyes bruised. The nicks and scratches on her face stood out like badges of honor. "You need to sleep."

"I'll catch some at Central. Anyway, as things stand, it should be wrapped up in a few hours. I'll take some personal time when it is."

"When it is, let's take a few days. You could use some sun."

"I'll think about it." Because they were alone, she leaned forward to kiss him.

At oh seven ten, Eve stood in Whitney's office. He had her written report on disc and hard copy, was listening to her oral follow-up.

"The doctor over Stiles estimates midday before he can be questioned. At this point, he's sedated. His condition is stable. Officer Trueheart remains in serious condition. His lower extremities are not yet responding to stimuli, and he has not, at this point, regained full consciousness. I would like to recommend Officer Trueheart for a citation for his conduct. His quick actions and disregard for personal safety were directly responsible for the apprehension of the suspect. The injuries sustained by him during the operation were not due to any negligence on his part but on mine."

"So you state in your written report. I disagree with your analysis."

"Sir, Officer Trueheart displayed courage and clear thinking under difficult and dangerous circumstances."

"I don't doubt that, Lieutenant." He leaned back. "You're admirably controlled in both your written and oral reports. Are you considering discussing the problems with the operation personally with Captain Stuart? Because if you are, I will have to issue a direct order that you make no contact with Captain Stuart. She is, at this moment, being reprimanded by her superiors. You don't think that's enough?" he asked after a moment of thrumming silence.

"It's not for me to say."

"Admirably controlled," he repeated. "She fucked it up. Through her disregard for your authority, your orders, the chain of command, and all reasonable common sense, she botched the entire situation, is responsible for dozens of civilian injuries, thousands in property damage, offered the suspect the opportunity to flee, and put one of my men in the hospital."