Gary and Brigatti settled into the evening, ordered Chinese food, and talked in a manner that they never managed before. He grinned and the curve of his mouth felt permanent. Now that the sexual tension was acknowledged, he could relax in her presence for the first time ever.

“Your turn.” Brigatti sat on the chair, her legs drawn up and crossed. A big bowl of popcorn rested in her lap.

Gary shook his head. “Oh no. It was your idea to bring up our most embarrassing moments. You have to go first.”

Brigatti tilted her head, gazed at the ceiling and then laughed. “Okay, I got one. I had a fancy dinner to attend at some hoity-toity restaurant. I don’t normally get invited to those kinds of things and I was so excited!” She reached into the bowl and tossed a few kernels in her mouth. “It was snowing and I didn’t want to ruin my new shoes. I had splurged and bought a pair of designer pumps and you know hard those heels are to walk in.”

Gary had no idea but nodded to encourage her to continue.

“I grabbed my boots, and reached in my closet and snagged the shoes out, thinking about how clever I was to wear the boots in the car and then switch to the heels when I arrived.

“Uh-huh.” He couldn’t care less about the shoes but the sparkle in her eyes as she told her tale had him hooked. “Smart thinking.”

“Well, it would have been if I hadn’t grabbed two different style pumps, both for the left foot!

Snorting with laughter, Gary leaned over and helped himself to the popcorn. He held it with his hand shelved against his belly. There would probably be a big grease stain from the ton of butter Brigatti had doused it with, but he didn’t care. “So what did you do?”

“I did what any lowly cop would do in that situation. I drove around looking for a Cheap Feet shoe store. Unfortunately, the whole town was filthy rich and didn’t have one, so I did the next best thing.” She ate some more popcorn.

“And what would that be?”

“I jammed my right foot in a left shoe. That wasn’t the hard part.” Her eyes danced. “That came when I realized that the heels were different heights.”

Gary laughed, picturing Brigatti hobbling around in the shoes. He continued to snicker as he stretched back on the couch. His shoulder was beginning to ache from being unsupported all day, but he didn’t want to break the spell.

“Okay.”

“Okay…what?” He rubbed the sore joint and hoped he could distract her from what he knew she wanted.

“You gotta tell your most embarrassing moment.”

Gary scratched his head. “I’m not sure I can narrow it down to just one.” He slanted a look at Brigatti. “Well, actually, I think my most embarrassing moment occurred just a few hours ago.”

Brigatti blushed. She opened her mouth and he thought she was going to protest, but she sneezed instead. The action sent the popcorn flying as the bowl toppled to the floor.

He swung his feet off the couch and bent to pick up the mess when she sneezed again. And again. Tossing the popcorn back in the bowl, he looked up at her. Brigatti’s eyes watered. “You okay?”

She nodded. “It must be that damn cat of yours.”

Gary felt his heart stutter. “M--my cat?”

“No, the neighbor’s cat. Of course your’s.” Brigatti looked at him in exasperation and then sneezed again. “I gotta get some tissue.” She rushed to the bathroom.

Gary stood and began searching the loft. He found the animal curled up under Brigatti’s chair. A corner of the Sun-Times peeked out beneath him. After taking a quick look over his shoulder to make sure Brigatti was still in the bathroom, he tugged the paper out from under the cat. “Come on, get up! You brought this thing, at least let me look at it.”

The cat gave him a sleepy blink and reached towards Gary, ever little toe separated as he stretched. At last, he stood and moved off the paper. Gary cast him an impatient glance. “You need to go hide before Brigatti sees you.” The cat sauntered into the kitchen in response.

Gary straightened and watched him go. He couldn’t be too angry. After all, the cat had saved him. He shook out the paper.

“Member of Cult Found Dead.”

Judy Medea, released on bond after a snafu in the prosecutor’s office, was found dead late last night. Her body was discovered by a passing patrol car only a block from the warehouse where Chicago bar owner, Gary Hobson was found beaten and gruesomely nailed to a cross. Medea had agreed to testify against the leader of the cult in exchange for reduced charges. She was to be held until Kern’s capture but was mistakenly released yesterday morning.”

“So, where were you hiding the little beast?” Brigatti walked towards him, wiping her nose with tissue.

Gary clenched the paper in his hand. “Uh, I guess he was just sleeping in a corner somewhere. Sorry, I forgot about him.” His mind raced. He had already saved Medea once and his reward for that was crucifixion. He wished he had somewhere private to go but the loft was one big room. What he needed was just a few moments to call Marissa. He needed her advice on this one. Maybe he could tell Brigatti that he had to get something from the office.

“Hey, uh, I have some paperwork I need to do. I almost forgot, but the staff, they like to get paid.” He rubbed the back of his neck and forced a laugh as he edged towards the door. “It’s down in my office. I’ll only be a few minutes. Just…just make yourself comfortable.”

Brigatti glared at him through puffy, narrowed eyes. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing, just some paperwork.” He turned and left, relieved when she didn’t follow. The relief was short-lived. Before he had reached the bottom step, his loft door opened and Brigatti, her jacket over her blouse, followed him down.

“Wait up!”

Gary pretended not to hear and went into the office, shutting and locking the door behind him.

“Hey, Hobson! Open up!” She rattled the doorknob.

This wasn’t going to work. He couldn’t call Marissa with Brigatti listening at the door. He sat at the desk, unrolled the paper and smoothed out the wrinkles. The article didn’t have any more info, just rehashed what had happened to Gary. He skimmed that part, trying to push back the memories that the words triggered. What should he do? He pressed his fingers against his temples and rubbed circles. Medea didn’t deserve to be saved. He didn’t trust her to testify against Kern and, hell, Kern wasn’t even in custody and might never be caught. At least Medea would be punished. Immediately, he felt guilt shoot through him.

“Fine. Stay in there. I’ll just wait. I can wait all night, Hobson!”

Marissa would know what to do. He called her, but got her answering machine. Then he remembered she had choir practice. Mark. That’s who he could call. Gary reached for his wallet to get the business card Mark had given him on their first meeting. Damn! His wallet must still be up in the loft. His keys were up there too, but Marissa had told him that the new spare set was kept in the safe. He rolled the desk chair back even with the small safe bolted to the floor. He held the keys, wondering why he had retrieved them. Gary tossed them onto the desk as though the metal had scorched his hands.

“You still in there?”

Gary shot an annoyed look at the door. “Yeah. Just doing payroll. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“Any particular reason you have the door locked?”

“Uh…policy. Lots of personal info in here.”

“I’m a cop, Hobson.”

He sighed. Why was he so irritated with Brigatti? It wasn’t like she was stopping him from going anywhere. He should just get up and let her in, tell her he was done with the paperwork. Instead, he remained sitting. Medea had helped Kern. Gary was sure of that and he remembered the way she had seemed so cavalier about what the cult had planned for him. She hadn’t felt a shred of guilt. So, why was he even thinking about her still?

Gary sat back and propped his head on his hand. His mind went back to the warehouse and what he had been thinking as he'd shivered on the cement in terror. In those few minutes, he’d had many regrets. Regret over mistakes made and words not said. There had been many things he wished he could have done differently and past mistakes he realized he would never have time to correct. He had prayed for a chance to make things right. Gary’s eyes wandered to the door, seeing the shadows from Brigatti’s feet on the other side. He had been given that chance. What if Medea had similar regrets?

Doubt disappeared but his stomach churned at his decision. He couldn’t let Medea die if there was a chance to save her. Gary stood and grabbed the keys. On the back of the office door hung an old gray sweatshirt he had left in here at one point. He eased it over his sore shoulder and pulled it over his head. Going back to the desk, he rolled the paper up and stuck it in his back pocket. A shuffle outside the door drew his attention. He didn’t know what to do about Brigatti. If he left, she would probably never speak to him again, but how could he get her to understand that he had something he had to do? He owed it to her to try.

Gary opened the door to find Brigatti leaning against the doorjamb, her focus on the bar patrons. Since it was a weeknight, the crowd was sparse at this time of night. Closing was in less than an hour.

Brigatti turned and eyed the sweatshirt then raised one eyebrow. “Going somewhere?”

He took a deep breath. “Yes. I am. I have an urgent errand to run.”

She snapped her fingers. “Just like that? One minute we’re talking, the next you have an emergency.” Arms akimbo, she glared at him. “I’m responsible for you for one more hour, when my relief gets here. Until then, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Gary kept his voice calm. “I appreciate that. I really do, but it’s life and death.” He brushed by her and headed for the back door.

“I can’t force you to stay, but I will accompany you on this…do or die mission.”

The sarcastic tone wasn’t lost on Gary but he ignored it and glanced over his shoulder. “Fine. Come with. Just don’t say anything or try to argue with me about what I’m doing. Got it?" His firm tone surprised Brigatti and her mouth rounded, before snapping shut.

“Understood, Hobson.”

Gary discovered it was a good thing that Brigatti insisted on tagging along. A block from McGinty’s, he realized that his hands and especially his left shoulder weren’t up to the task of operating the van. He pulled over. “You drive.”

After giving him a look of disbelief, she shrugged. “Okay.”

It occurred to Gary that she could turn the van right back around and there wasn’t a whole lot he could do to stop her. It also suddenly came to him that he had no idea where the warehouse was that he had been taken to. “Uh, Brigatti? Could you take me to the warehouse where…where it happened?”

She shot him a look before returning her gaze to the road. “What for?”

“Closure. I think I need some closure.” Even as he repeated the buzzword, he realized he wasn’t making up an excuse. He really did want to see the warehouse.

Brigatti nodded. “I understand. Sure.”

Gary fell silent, recalling the fear from his first trip to the warehouse. There was more traffic this time, but the warehouse district appeared nearly deserted. He tugged at the collar of the sweatshirt. The noose had been so tight. He shivered hard.

“You okay?”

Gary looked at her and blinked. “I…I’m fine.” His brain felt foggy and he shook his head. He had to snap out of it but his body still trembled and he reached over and turned the heat up. “Just a little cold.”

The warehouse came into sight. Gary knew it was the one because wilted flowers and miniature crosses lay scattered on the sidewalk. He had seen the same scene in front of the hospital and McGinty’s.

Brigatti pulled up to the curb in front. “Here we are.”

Gary nodded but this wasn’t the door he had gone through. That had been off an alley. “Can we go around to the back?”

“Sure.”

The alley didn’t trigger any flashbacks. It just looked like any other dark alley. He took a deep breath and let it out. “It looks different now.”

Brigatti turned her head to look out the window. “I guess so. The snow is gone.”

Maybe that was it. “Can we drive around the neighborhood a little bit? I just want to see if I can remember the route they took.”

She raised her eyebrows but said nothing as she threw the vehicle into drive.

Gary wished he had more details. For all he knew, Medea was already dead and while a few blocks away didn’t sound far, it didn’t give a direction. He ruled out the a few blocks west because that was the train yards and the article hadn’t mentioned that. He felt pretty sure that detail would have been included. To the east was the expressway, which served as a bit of a divider. On the eastern side were blocks of trendy art studios, boutiques and converted warehouses that now were loft apartments. That didn’t seem like the right area either.

“Which way?” Brigatti stopped a corner and gave him a questioning look.

To the left, he saw some run down bars and ethnic grocery stores. Too many people around and Kern probably would want to take that chance. Gary was sure that Kern brought Medea to this area; that he had found her first and brought her here for a reason. “Take a right.”

“You’re the boss.”

Gary chuckled at that. His laughter died when he spotted a car driving slowly ahead of them with its lights off.

Brigatti leaned forward. “What’s that car doing?”

His mouth dried up and he shook his head. “Not sure. Get closer.”

She nodded and sped up. The vehicle stopped and Brigatti swung the van in behind it but allowed a half block between them. She fished in her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. “This is Detective Brigatti. I have a suspicious vehicle and request back-up.”

While she gave location and info to a dispatcher, Gary glanced at the paper. Medea still died, only now his name was splashed across the headline as a witness. Damn it!

“Kern’s gonna get Medea.” Gary flung his door open and stepped onto street.

“Hobson! Get back in here!”

Ignoring Brigatti, he glanced left and right but he didn’t see Medea. The alley was dark and deserted except for the headlights from Gary’s van. If she wasn’t here on the street, then she must be close. Gary began edging towards the stopped car. The windows were tinted but he thought he heard raised voices coming from within.

Brigatti charged out of the van, her face livid. “I have back-up on the way!” She pointed back towards the van. “If this is Kern, you’re the last person I want him to see!” Despite her anger, she kept her voice lowered but it lost none of its intensity.

Gary hesitated. She had a point. A muffled cry came from within the van and he broke into an awkward jog. Back up would come too late according to the paper. He ran harder, his feet protesting the punishment. The sound of Brigatti behind him made him feel both relieved and anxious. He didn’t want anything to happen to her, but she was a lot more prepared to help than he was. She passed him, her gun held down by her side. She circled behind the stopped vehicle and Gary went to the passenger side. Brigatti held up her hand for him to remain motionless. He complied and part of him wished he had listened to Brigatti and waited for back up. Medea might have been killed, but they would still get Kern. If that was Kern in the car. What if he had made a mistake and this wasn’t even the right car? It could be a couple of teens looking for a place to make out. He flinched at another cry from someone in the car. It was definitely a female voice. A deeper voice shouted something and the car began to shake. Gary shot a look at Brigatti. Now what?

Brigatti took a deep breath and swung beside the driver’s side, her gun pointing at the window. He heard her pull on the door handle. “Police! Put your hands where I can see them! Now!”

Gary took a step forward when the passenger door crashed open and Judy Medea tumbled out with a short scream. Her blonde hair shone in the near darkness. A large dark form charged out behind her, a hand tangled in Medea’s hair. “Get moving, bitch!”

A chill swept Gary. That voice. Kern’s voice. He huddled against the car. Kern didn’t look in his direction. Gary hoped the other man didn’t know he was there yet.

Brigatti circled the front of the car. “Arms in the air!”

Kern yanked Medea to her feet and turned towards Brigatti. Gary saw a glint of metal in Kern’s hand. He didn’t know if it was a gun or a knife, but he acted on instinct. He lunged forward and tumbled into Kern. The other man staggered and lost his grip on Medea but he didn’t go down. Gary felt himself falling and grabbed onto Kern’s jacket. His weight pulled the other man off his feet and they both fell in a tangle on the pavement. Gary heard metal skitter across the sidewalk and hoped it was the weapon but the next second, he grunted as Kern’s knee landed on his belly, sending his breath whooshing out of him. Kern’s cry of surprise turned to a sneer when his eyes met Gary’s.

“So, the mountain comes to Mohammad.” He grinned and his forearm rested across Gary’s throat. He leaned his weight on it and Gary bucked, unable to breathe.

Gary’s vision narrowed to that snarling grin. That cold, evil smile; it was the smile of his nightmares. Using leverage and every bit of energy he possessed, he shoved the heel of his hand towards Kern’s face. On impact, Kern’s head snapped back. Gary felt a crunch and a gush of warm liquid flow over his hand. He gagged and tasted bile in the back of his throat.

Kern’s hands flew to his nose and he leaned forward, cursing. Gary rose up on his elbows, rolled to the side and then scrambled to his feet. He stumbled to the side, and then leaned over, clutching his throat. At least ten long seconds passed before he sucked in air. When he did, the world stopped spinning and he lifted his head. Medea huddled against the brick wall of the building fronting the sidewalk. She had raised her arms and covered her head. Gary didn’t see any blood and she didn’t appear injured. He took drew a deep breath.

Brigatti stood just out of Kern’s reach and raised her gun, pointing it at his head. “Get up. Slowly. I will shoot.” She didn’t yell or raise her voice in any way, but her tone brooked no arguments and Kern sat back, his arms raised.

A flash of police lights and the roar of a cruiser filled the street, coming to a screeching halt, angling across the street. Another squad rounded the corner, stopping behind the first. The officers exited, weapons drawn. Gary straightened, his hand dripping Kern’s blood onto the sidewalk. The reinforcements subdued Kern and put him the back of a squad.

Brigatti approached, her eyes snapping. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Gary swallowed; sure a sharp stone must be wedged in his windpipe. “I…I…Kern, he was gonna kill Medea.” His voice sounded hoarse and strained.

She pressed her lips together, her arms crossed and looked away for second. “I won’t even ask how you know that. Assuming you’re right, why do you care?”

He looked at her for a long moment, unable to come up with a good reason, at least, nothing that would make sense. It was just the right thing to do. For once, Brigatti’s eyes lost their hard look and she returned his gaze, waiting. Gary cleared his throat. “I just do.”

Her eyes searched his and then she nodded. “Have the paramedics check out your throat.” She glanced towards Medea. A couple of paramedics were examining her. An expression of disgust swept over Brigatti’s features.

Gary eased towards the van. “I’m fine.” He felt like puppet with cut stings and all his limbs threatened to become noodles. He just needed to sit. The van wasn’t far. He could make it if he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.

Brigatti took his elbow. “Come on.” She led him to the paramedics who were tending to Medea. When they finished, an officer led Medea to another police car and put her in the back. Brigatti pointed a finger at Gary, her face stern, then turned and went to speak to Medea.

Gary, too tired to fight, sat quietly on a gurney while the medical personal took his blood pressure and pulse, then asked him if he had any trouble breathing. He shook his head. “I’m just tired. I want to go home.” He felt an odd lethargy and could have curled up on the gurney and slept right then, but he didn’t want to find himself in an emergency room when he woke up.

“Is he good to go?” Brigatti stopped beside the gurney, her eyes sweeping over him.

One of the paramedics nodded. “Yeah, he’s okay. His blood pressure is a little low, could be mild shock, but he says he feels fine.”

Gary glanced away when Brigatti peered at him with concern. “You sure, Hobson?”

He nodded. It was the truth. His lump in his throat eased. He felt normal; like his old self. Gary stuffed his hands in the front pocket of the sweatshirt.

She came closer and gave his good shoulder a brief squeeze. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”