Afraid To Lose Her

His eyes flicked to her chest. “Hey! Eyes up here, buddy. Not here.” She pointed to her chest. “But here.” She pointed to her face.

Dez put a hand on her arm, but she shook it off. “Giroux, you’re not the mastermind behind this. We know it, you know it. So why don’t you tell us who is, and maybe we can see if treason can be a mere five-year stint in prison.”

Giroux eyed the door. “You got the wrong guy.”

Dez picked up a box that had been sitting on the floor and dumped its contents on the table. “These look like your handiwork to me.” He grabbed one and put it in front of Giroux. “This one should be familiar. We picked him up on a different charge and he gave us your name.”

Giroux tossed the passport back to Dez. “You got nothing,” he said and settled back in his chair as if he had all the time in the world. “But I can give you something you want.”

Aha. They had him. “Now you’re being smart. Who’s behind the counterfeit ring?” she pressed.

Giroux shook his head. “That’s small potatoes compared to what I have for you.” He leaned in and dropped his voice. “You’re investigating a drug raid gone bad, right? I can give you names of the guys who were there. And more important, who wasn’t.” Sherri tried to keep her surprise off her face, but knew she’d failed when Giroux smirked. “Yeah, you’re interested.”

“You don’t know what I am,” Sherri barked at him.

“Agent Lopez.” Dez gestured toward the door. “A word?”

Sherri gave a curt nod. Once outside the interview room, she punched Dez in the shoulder. “We had him and you call me out here for a conference?”

“Because you were losing sight of what we’re here to do. And that’s to take down a bunch of counterfeiters trying to bring some scary people across our borders.”

She frowned at him. She hadn’t forgotten why they were there, but if they could get a lead on the drug raid, too? They couldn’t let that opportunity pass them by. “But what if we could do both?”

“Giroux is not going to give up both. It’s either or.” Dez paused and then added, “Come on, Sherri, we don’t want to lose this. We’ve come this far. He either gives us the ringleader on the counterfeit ring or he goes down. That’s it. No deals about the raid. No complications. Period.”

“Let me at least try. We owe it to those agents who didn’t make it. Dez, in your heart you know I’m right. And if I am, then we solve two cases at once.”

Dez waved her off. “No way. Eyes on the prize, Ace. We’re not going for extra credit here.”

“Fine. Be like that.” She opened the door and walked into the room to resume the interrogation. “Giroux, you and I both know you have no intention of doing time for your boss. Let him get the heavy sentence while you serve a couple of months in a cushy cell.”

“I give you his name then I’m dead anyway.”

His eyes drifted down toward her chest, and Sherri slapped the table and pointed to her eyes. Dez sat on the table on the other side of Giroux. “We can offer you protection before and during the trial, after which you’ll serve a short term in a minimum security prison where you can play tennis and work on your tan.”

Giroux refused. “You’ve got to give me something better.”

Dez put his hand on the back of the chair Giroux sat in and leaned his face close to him. “There is no better, but I guarantee you that I’ll give you a lot worse if you don’t cooperate. The fact is, you being hauled in here has already made your boss wonder what you’ve told us. You really think he’ll believe you didn’t spill the beans?” He stood and pulled out his cell phone and threw it at Sherri, who caught it neatly. “We’re not getting anywhere. Call Spinks in the DA’s office and tell him that—”

“Wait,” Giroux protested. “I’ll tell you.”

She started to punch the number into the phone just as Dez put his hand on Giroux’s shoulder. “The time for negotiation is over. You had your chance.”

“No, listen!” Giroux spat and jumped up.

She glanced at Dez, who gave a short nod. She abandoned the call and handed the phone back to Dez, who pocketed it and stared at Giroux. “Sit down. We’re listening.”

Giroux slumped into his chair. “I’ll give you his name once you put in writing that you’ll protect me before and after the trial. You don’t cross a guy like this without consequences.”

Giroux stayed mum until they could get the Attorney General to sign off on a lesser crime with promises of protection by the US Marshal’s office. Sherri took the fax with the details in with her to the interview room. She placed it on the table before Giroux and handed him a pen. “You sign, then you give us the name.”

She glanced at her watch. Three o’clock approached, and she needed to get this wrapped up so she could go pick up her mom before the doctor’s appointment. Dez saw her point to her watch. “We’re all good here. You go ahead and leave.”

“If this wasn’t important...”

“I know.” Dez took the signed fax from Giroux and handed it to her. “Go give this to the cap on your way out. Giroux and I have a little business to discuss.”

* * *

SHERRI PULLED INTO a parking space at the hospital and paused before turning the engine off. She looked over at Mama, who had her eyes closed, her mouth moving silently in a prayer. Sherri put a hand on her arm. “We’re here.”

Mama finished her prayer then opened her eyes. “I didn’t tell your padre yet. I thought we’d wait until we had more facts.”

“Thanks.” Sherri got out of the car and waited for her mother. As they started walking toward the hospital, she looked up at the sky. It was a beautiful, sunny day, too nice to be getting bad news. They reached the lobby and headed to the right, where doors held signs advertising different doctors. She found Dr. VanGilder’s door and opened it.

The office had a small waiting room, only four chairs and a table with magazines. A half-opened smoked glass window on one wall indicated the receptionist sat behind it. Sherri walked to the window and signed in on the clipboard then took a seat next to Mama. “You don’t have to go in with me. I just need you to wait for me here, okay?”

Mama looked up at her, her brows furrowed. “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

Sherri shook her head. “I have to do this on my own. But thank you for offering.”

Mama picked up a magazine and started flipping through it. “I told your padre we’d have dinner late tonight. You’re joining us.”

It wasn’t a question or a request. More like a demand. “I don’t know if I’m going to want to eat after whatever the doctor tells me.”

“You have to take care of yourself, especially now.” Mama’s fingers twitched. “I should have brought my knitting. Helps me think.”

A nurse opened the door on the side. “Sherrita Lopez?”

Sherri stood and put a hand on Mama’s shoulder then followed the nurse down a hall to an examination room. The nurse shut the door once inside then took Sherri’s vitals and noted them in a file before handing her a paper vest. “Remove all clothing from the waist up. Wear the vest with the opening in the front.”

Sherri took the flimsy item from the nurse and waited until she’d left the room before undressing. Once covered, she sat on the exam table and let her feet dangle. After several long minutes, a white-haired but young-looking doctor entered the room along with the nurse from earlier. He held out a hand to her. “Ms. Lopez, I’m Dr. VanGilder.”

Once they shook hands, the doctor took a seat on a rolling stool and opened the file. Her file.

“I’d like to do a physical exam, then we can talk about what happens next.”

He placed his hands on her body, and Sherri turned her head, focusing on the painting of a flower on the opposite wall. She couldn’t let herself think about what it was he was trying to find. The lump?

Now that she knew what it was, she’d touched the spot herself several times, checking to see if the hardness was still there. It hadn’t changed. Hadn’t disappeared despite her desperate hope that it would vanish and this would all be for nothing.

He checked her file, making some notes, then he looked up at her, his blue eyes full of concern from what he’d read. “I’m going to order an MRI so we can get a better picture of what’s going on, but I’m afraid the news isn’t good. The biopsy showed both pre-cancerous and cancer cells.”

The doctor continued on about what was going to happen next, including the MRI and a lumpectomy, a less invasive and outpatient procedure. But she only heard one word out of every five. Cancer. She had cancer. She reached up and touched her breast. Inside her body, bad cells were attacking healthy ones, maybe spreading.

She could die.

She gasped, unable to get enough air into her lungs. Dr. VanGilder stopped talking and put a hand on hers. “I know this is a lot to take in, but the good news is that I think we found this early.”

“How did I get it? No one in my family has had it.” She’d had an aunt who’d died from breast cancer, but she’d been related by marriage, not blood.

He shrugged. “Only fifteen percent of breast cancer is found to be genetic. Everything else is environmental or lifestyle as a risk factor. The point isn’t how you got it, but what we’re going to do to eliminate it.” He handed her a small piece of paper with instructions and details that she couldn’t see, her eyes unable to focus on anything at the moment. “This is for the MRI. I have you scheduled for tomorrow morning at seven then I’ll see you next Monday at nine. We’ll schedule the lumpectomy for that time.”

She snapped her head up. “So soon?”

“The sooner, the better, Ms. Lopez. Gives us a better chance. Do you have any other questions?”

She didn’t have any because she couldn’t think of anything beyond why me? She shook her head, feeling as if she should be more prepared. She should have done her research the night before. Found some answers before entering the office. She knew something was wrong. She could have at least looked up the disease and possible treatments on the internet.

“I’ll let you get dressed, and we’ll see you Monday morning.” He stood and shook her hand. “I’ll take good care of you, Ms. Lopez. You’re not fighting this alone.”

She released his hand, then sat in stunned silence. She eventually changed back into her clothes and left the exam room. The receptionist handed her a tiny card with Monday’s appointment details written on it. “Have a good evening,” the woman said.

Really? After hearing that news, how was she supposed to have a good anything? She opened the door to the waiting room and found Mama flipping through a pamphlet. Mama rose to her feet when she saw Sherri. “How did it go?”

Sherri glanced around at the other women waiting to see the surgeon. “We’ll talk in the car.”

Mama put the magazine back on the table and followed Sherri out of the hospital and to the parking lot. Sherri stood at her car, keys in her hand for a long moment as she stared at the keyhole. Mama came up and took her keys from her. “I’ll drive.”

Sherri nodded and walked around to the passenger side. She got in the car, fastened the seat belt and placed her purse in her lap before covering her face with her hands. Mama didn’t start the car, but put an arm around her shoulder and let her cry.

* * *

DEZ PASSED THE basketball to Luke, who dribbled it several times then made a jump shot. The ball rolled around the rim of the basketball hoop then fell in. The teen pumped his fist into the air. “Yes! That’s game. You owe me an ice cream.”

“I know, I know.” Dez used the hem of his shirt to wipe his face. He checked his watch. It was almost seven, three hours since Sherri’s appointment, and he hadn’t heard from her yet. Not that she’d promised to call him, but he’d hoped she would. He turned his focus onto Luke. “Did you pass that science test we talked about last week?”

The teen groaned. “Are you my mother? I thought we were just hanging out.”

“I’m also your mentor and your friend who’s concerned about your future. So did you pass it or not?”

Luke shrugged and bounced the ball a couple of times. “I guess. I don’t know why it’s such a big deal. Not like I’m going to be a doctor or nothing.”

“You could be.”

Luke scoffed at that and took another shot at the hoop. The ball bounced off the rim, and he ran after it to retrieve it. “Not in my neighborhood.”

“Attitude like that and you won’t.” Dez had met Luke after he’d been arrested for shoplifting baby formula from the store across the street from the tenement he lived in. Dez’s friend and family lawyer Mateo had called him in as a favor. It was the teen’s first offense and the crime had been undertaken to feed his starving baby sister. The judge would let him go with a warning if he could work weekly with a mentor. Dez could identify with Luke’s situation, so he’d agreed. He wiped his face again. “How many times have I got to tell you—”

“You can do whatever you set out to do.” Luke rolled his eyes.

“So you have been listening to me.”

“Whatever. Are we getting that ice cream or what?”

They left the basketball court and walked to the corner store. The owner eyed Luke but nodded at Dez, who went to the freezer and pulled out two sundae cones. He turned and found Luke staring at the gallons of milk in the cooler next to the freezer. He knew that look. Luke needed something, but pride kept him from speaking up. Dez took out a gallon of milk from the cooler. “I was going to pick up some groceries, too. You need anything?”

Luke turned away. “Nah, man. We’re good.”

Dez shifted the gallon of milk in his arms as he grabbed a couple boxes of cereal and a loaf of bread. He took his purchases up to the counter and pulled out his wallet. He turned back to Luke. “You sure you don’t need anything?” Luke kept his gaze on the counter but gave a short nod. “Okay, then.”

The cashier told him his total, and Dez took out a twenty. Luke glanced away. “Diapers. The baby’s out of diapers, and Mom doesn’t get paid till next week.”

Dez left the counter and grabbed a pack of diapers and a large canister of baby formula. He added the items to the rest of his purchases and looked at Luke again. “Anything else you need?” Luke shook his head, so Dez paid the cashier.

They left the corner store and ate their ice cream cones as they strolled back to Luke’s apartment, each carrying a plastic bag. They didn’t say anything until they’d reached the stairwell. Luke took a deep breath. “Thanks.”

Dez put his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “We talked about asking for help when you need it.”

The teen still wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “It’s not that easy. You know what I’m talking about.”

Yep, Dez sure did. He’d grown up in a series of foster homes where he learned to fight in order to get what he needed or to avoid what he didn’t. That is until Ray had taken him in and taught him what it meant to be a man of honor. Not that he’d listened at first. He’d been too angry to. But the lessons had been repeated and drilled into him until he’d finally understood. “You’re right. But asking for help doesn’t make you weak, okay?” He handed Luke his plastic bag. “These are all for you.”

Luke nodded, his eyes still down. “K.”

“I’m not giving you groceries because I feel sorry for you.”

Luke lifted his head, and anger and something else flashed in his gaze. Pride, maybe. “Yeah, right. You feeling guilty because you got out of a place like this? And now you got to slum it with me.”

“That’s not why I did it.”

Luke shrugged. “Whatever, man. I gotta go.”

“Next Wednesday, same time. And you’d better have aced that math test.”

Luke didn’t say a word, but took the bags of groceries upstairs to his apartment. At least he hadn’t thrust them back on Dez. The kid must have been hungry. He wished he could remove him from this environment, because he was smart and could make something of himself if he didn’t let the gangs get to him first. Or the poverty. Or the despair and hopelessness.

Dez muffled a curse and pulled out his cell phone to check again to see if Sherri had called. Nothing. He tapped out a quick message to her.

U OK?

Her response came just as quick.

Heading to the gun range. You game?

Of course he was. He texted her back in the affirmative and started his car. When he pulled into the parking lot, he noticed her car already there, plus a few others. He jogged to the front door and opened it. Smitty, the owner of the gun shop and range, gave him a nod. “Your girl is unloading a few clips in the back.”

Dez raised one eyebrow at this. “That can’t be good.”

Smitty gave a shrug. “She seemed a little agitated, and I didn’t bother to ask why.”

So the doctor’s appointment hadn’t gone well, then. The old man looked at Dez as if he’d provide the answers, but he remained silent, not knowing what they were. Finally, Dez gave him a salute. “Semper Fi, Smitty.”

He nodded. “Semper Fi.”

He paid Smitty for an hour’s time on the range as well as a box of bullets. In the back, he found Sherri with earmuffs and goggles on and reloading her gun with another clip. Dez walked up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped and removed the earmuffs. “Hey,” he said.

“I thought tonight was your night with Luke?”

“He already cleaned my clock on the basketball court.” He studied her closely, trying to see if those were red-rimmed eyes from crying, but the goggles gave her pupils a distorted look and he couldn’t gauge her mood. Instead, he turned to the target she’d been shooting at and pressed the button to bring it closer. He whistled at the holes across the target’s chest. “So are you going to tell me, or can I guess from this?” He waved the target at her.

She snatched the paper from him and loaded a new one on the clip then sent it back out, this time at a distance farther away than the previous setting. She turned to him. “Doc’s sending me for an MRI, so I’ll be in late tomorrow.”

“But what does that mean? They couldn’t tell, so you need more tests?” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Come on, Ace. Tell me what’s going on. Don’t keep me out of this.” She wouldn’t look at him and he swore, knowing what she wasn’t saying. “It is cancer.”

She nodded and threaded her fingers through his. “The appointment is a blur, and I’m sure there’s things he told me that I should share with you, but I can’t remember them right now. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

He pulled her into his arms as she started to cry, her tears wetting his T-shirt. But he didn’t care. He rubbed her back and placed a kiss on the top of her head, enjoying the feel of his arms around her. “I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. We’re going to fight this with everything we’ve got.”

“We?”

“You don’t think I’d leave my partner to do this on her own, do you? We’re doing this together. I’ll drive you to appointments, and you can cry on my shoulder anytime you want.” He swallowed at the emotions clogging his throat. “You’re going to fight this because that’s what you are. You’re not a victim. You’re my warrior. And that’s what warriors do. They fight.”

She let go of him and took a step back. “Even to the death?”

“We’re not going to talk about that.”

“But it could happen.”

“And you could also survive this and live until you’re ninety.” He grasped her by her arms so she had to look him in the eyes. “You’ve got this. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known, and something like this won’t bring you down.”

“I wish I had your faith,” she said, clearly holding back more tears.

“So borrow mine until you find some of your own.” He swore again and rubbed her shoulders. “Is there anything I can do right now?”

“Yes. Leave my cubicle so I can empty my clip onto that target.” She motioned toward the hanging paper waiting for her to destroy it.

He gave a short nod. “I’ll be in the booth right next door if you need me.” He held up his gun and box of ammo. “I’ve got my own demons to shoot at.”

She smiled and put the ear protection back on. He left the cubicle and entered his own. Earmuffs in place. Gun loaded. He attached a paper target to the clip and sent it out a short distance. He aimed the gun at the center of the target and pulled the trigger, letting the kickback up his arm remind him that he was still alive. And for now, so was Sherri.

CHAPTER THREE

THE NEXT WEEK passed quickly as Sherri recuperated from the lumpectomy. She popped antacids while she waited for Dr. VanGilder to gather all the necessary information to determine what happened next. If the cancer didn’t get her, Sherri figured the ulcer that must be forming in her stomach might.

She hoped that the specimen removed from her breast had clear margins indicating that all the cancer had been taken. Perhaps she’d be done with surgery and could go back to her normal life. For now, she was staying at her parents’ home for the weekend. She couldn’t face an empty apartment after her surgery.

Mama knocked on the open guest bedroom door and popped her head inside. “Dez is here.”

Sherri groaned and propped herself up on one elbow. “I’m not in the mood for visitors. Could you tell him I’m sleeping?”

“I won’t lie to him. Not even for you. He came to see you because he’s concerned about you.” Mama’s forehead wrinkled, and she waggled her finger at her. “You’d be so lucky to have him for a husband.”

Sherri swung her legs over the side of the bed and massaged the area where the lump had been. It was still tender after three days, but the doctor had promised she’d be up and around soon. “Dez is a friend, Mama. Nothing more.”

Mama didn’t looked convinced. “I’ve seen how he watches you.”

“You’re imagining things. And besides, that sounds a little creepy.” Mama had to be mistaken. Had to be. Dez was a friend, a good one. There wasn’t anything romantic going on between them. Right? How could there be?

Mama raised one eyebrow at this, but shrugged. “He’s waiting in the living room. We’ll see who watches who.”

Mama shut the bedroom door, and Sherri rose to her feet. She pulled on sweatpants and a zip-up jacket to cover the ratty T-shirt she wore. She hadn’t showered since the surgery—too afraid to get the sutures wet—so she probably looked like a wreck. Not that Dez would care. He’d seen her in bad shape before. Like last summer when they’d played the softball championship game that had gone into extra innings. By the time it was over, they hadn’t just lost the game, she had sweat rolling down her face, her hair was damp and her softball shirt and pants were covered in dirt because she’d slid into home plate.

She opened the bedroom door and ambled down the hall to the living room, where Dez and her dad sat in matching recliners, discussing the Detroit Tigers. Conversation stopped when she entered the room, and Dez stood suddenly and motioned her to the sofa. His eyes never left hers as she walked across the room and took a seat. Dez moved to sit next to her and looked her over. “I would have come sooner, but the captain had me on an assignment and I couldn’t get away. How are you?”

She tried to find the words, but unable to, she merely shrugged. Dez smiled at that and smoothed her hair away from her eyes. She backed up at his touch. He frowned and dropped his hand into his lap. “Cap can’t wait for you to come back.”

Yes, let’s focus on work rather than whatever it was that swirled around them. “There’s been developments on the raid? Tell me.”

He glanced at her dad and leaned in closer. “The ballistics report came back with interesting anomalies.”

She’d had a feeling that would be the outcome. Call it a hunch or whatever, but she’d suspected that there had been something shady going on. At least, shadier than the drug operation. “The ammo belonged to one of us, right?”

“Department-issued bullets were found on scene. And not all of them came from our guns.” He peered into her face and frowned. “Are you sure you’re well enough to talk shop?”