Afraid To Lose Her
Afraid To Lose Her
Syndi Powell
They’re in this fight togetherBorder Patrol agent Desmond Jackson would gladly take a bullet for his partner. Instead, it’s Detroit border patrol agent Sherri Lopez who ends up wounded in a drug raid…then blindsided by a shocking diagnosis.The woman Dez secretly loves is a warrior now in a fight for her life. Strong and independent, Sherri won’t let anything defeat her—or let herself rely on Dez. Doesn’t she realize how good they are together? All Dez knows is he can’t lose her…or the friendship that’s slowly evolving into something even more precious.
They’re in this fight together
Border patrol agent Desmond Jackson would gladly take a bullet for his partner. Instead, it’s Detroit border patrol agent Sherri Lopez who ends up wounded in a drug raid...then blindsided by a shocking diagnosis.
The woman Dez secretly loves is a warrior now in a fight for her life. Strong and independent, Sherri won’t let anything defeat her—or let herself rely on Dez. Doesn’t she realize how good they are together? All Dez knows is he can’t lose her...or the friendship that’s slowly evolving into something even more precious.
If he’d been here, she would have been okay.
He would have...what? Dez wasn’t a doctor. He was just a man who cared for her. Who would do anything to save her. But what could he do in this case? He took a seat in the chair beside Sherri’s hospital bed and leaned his elbows on his knees. His head in his hands, he closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath.
He stood and pressed his lips against her forehead. “You have to fight this, my fierce warrior. Fight this and come back to me healthy and well.” He kissed her again and listened to her soft breathing.
Sherri’s mom whispered, “You love her.” She said it as a statement, not a question.
Dez nodded and took Sherri’s hand in his. Pressed his lips to it and watched her sleep. “Always.”
Dear Reader (#ua5685325-381b-585e-8b10-b00b57138d52),
As a breast cancer survivor, I am so excited to bring you the Hope Center Stories about three women who are on their own journeys with cancer. They will face their fears and celebrate their victories together because that’s how we defeat this horrible disease: with the love and support of family, friends and medical staff. As long as we can hold on to each other, cancer cannot destroy us. It may damage and scar our bodies, but our faith and will to live will help carry us through.
Sherrita Lopez is about to start her own fight with breast cancer. For someone who prides herself so much on her independence, she is about to learn that the journey requires family and friends to support and love her through the difficult times. She also discovers that the friend who has always been by her side is the man she can’t live without.
For those who have defeated cancer, I would remind you that we need to continue to live as warriors and help those who are in the middle of their own journeys by sharing our stories and advice. Celebrate those scars because they are physical proof that we could not be defeated. For those who are in the middle of their own fight, I would encourage you to reach out to those around you for support because you’ll need that in those dark days and to celebrate in the small victories. Don’t give up! For those who have lost loved ones to cancer, I send my love and prayers.
Syndi
Afraid to Lose Her
Syndi Powell
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
SYNDI POWELL started writing stories when she was young and has made it a lifelong pursuit. She’s been reading Harlequin romance novels since she was in her teens and is thrilled to be on the Harlequin team. She loves to connect with readers on Twitter, @syndipowell (https://twitter.com/syndipowell), or on her Facebook author page, Facebook.com/syndipowellauthor (https://www.facebook.com/syndipowellauthor).
This book is dedicated to the doctors who saved my life: Dr. Christopher Frocillo, Dr. Stephen Cahill and Dr. Salman Fateh. Thank you for your care and support through one of the most difficult times of my life. Because of your tireless dedication to your patients, many of us are able to celebrate more birthdays and holidays. We owe you so much.
Contents
Cover (#ufbf6dfdc-619d-5256-95b6-6de5e5ad8f5d)
Back Cover Text (#ubaf53c81-b3d3-5215-9b1a-a4751a42301c)
Introduction (#ue700dd6d-363d-5032-afb6-252f4c2da383)
Dear Reader (#uf2f044ee-7182-5fe5-859f-eb5f17f97a18)
Title Page (#ubc7fda59-5a67-5adf-a483-07d014fe25bb)
About the Author (#ub86d4b3f-1ac7-5849-adae-9ed5fe4cfaf2)
Dedication (#u0c94d7ba-ac73-58b9-a57c-d9eda6654ceb)
CHAPTER ONE (#ua5c1eb71-5d70-55ab-ab60-0611be26b8ab)
CHAPTER TWO (#u64f96438-16e4-5062-883d-8db2535343e9)
CHAPTER THREE (#u870a69ff-e844-5257-99d6-c9a0cd537767)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u09ba712d-cdac-5cf0-bb74-ef9344f426f1)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ua5685325-381b-585e-8b10-b00b57138d52)
SHERRITA LOPEZ TOOK a sip of lukewarm coffee from the cardboard cup and glanced around the group of about a dozen federal agents that had gathered in a parking lot of the building that housed the Drug Enforcement Agency. They all looked similar in navy jackets with “DEA” or “ATF” written in gold on the back. They even seemed to have the same haircut. She pulled her long brown hair over one shoulder and wished she fit in better. Maybe she shouldn’t have worn her usual work outfit: navy suit jacket, white blouse and navy pants.
Her partner from Border Patrol had promised he’d meet her there, but she’d seen no sign of Desmond Jackson. A woman in a navy nylon jacket walked up to her and nodded at the cup of coffee. “That any good?”
Sherri shrugged. “It’s caffeine at least.” She looked the woman over. “You with the DEA?”
“I’m Darla.” The woman nodded and leaned against a parked van. “It’s amazing, you know. I don’t have many women in my office, but they put our agencies together and I automatically gravitate toward you. It’s nice to see a feminine face among all these hard masculine ones. Like calling to like, I guess.”
“It’s hard being one of the few. I understand that well enough.” She took another draw of her coffee. “Do you know what the scoop is with this raid? Details have been sketchy.”
“Gang bringing drugs over from Canada, which is why I guess they brought you Border Patrol agents in.” She glanced around. “I just wish we’d stop standing around and actually do something. But hurry up and wait seems to be the agenda for the day.”
“They’re probably waiting for someone. Or something.”
At that, she spotted the bald head of her tall partner moving through the other agents. He stood head and shoulders above most as he wound his way around toward her. His light brown skin bathed in the early sunlight. Sherri waved Dez over and glanced at her watch. He shrugged and passed her a cup of real coffee from their favorite diner. “Had to make a stop. I know you wouldn’t be able to handle the action without real coffee.”
She took the cup and smiled. “Bless you.”
He nodded at the female Drug Enforcement agent. “You hear anything about when we’re going in?”
Sherri shook her head. “Soon, I guess.”
The woman crossed her arms over her chest. “Like I said, it’s the agency policy. Hurry up and wait.” She held a hand out to Sherri. “Nice meeting you. How about after this we go out for lunch or something? I’d love to hear about your experience. Maybe compare notes.”
Sherri shook her hand. “I’d like that. Good luck out there.”
Darla nodded and walked away. Dez turned back to her. “New friend?”
“Maybe. She was happy to see another woman among all the testosterone.” She finished her first coffee and searched the lot for a garbage can and walked to it and tossed it in. Turning, she took a sip of the coffee that Dez had brought her and sighed. “I hate this waiting around. Just give us our orders and let’s do this thing.” She turned to her partner and eyed his jeans paired with a white button-down shirt. “A little casual for you.”
He looked down at his outfit. “It’s a raid on a Saturday, not dinner with the president. Listen. I told the guy in charge that we’d take point, if that’s okay with you.”
Absolutely it was. She had jumped at the chance to volunteer in order to coordinate efforts along with Dez. She wanted to be in the middle of it. To be responsible for taking down one of the gangs bringing drugs over. This was, after all, why she’d joined Border Patrol: to guard her country from outside harm. “Sounds good to me.”
One of the agents stood up in the bed of a truck and cupped his hands around his mouth to magnify the sound. Conversations stopped, and focus sharpened to the agent in charge. “Orders are being sent around now along with earpieces so we can communicate during the raid. Thank you to Agents Lopez and Jackson from Border Patrol, who will be taking point at the warehouse.” He gave a nod toward them. “We’ll be entering on my count. Intel says that they aren’t armed and have no idea we’re coming. I’d like to keep that element of surprise. Questions?”
A murmur rose, but there were no questions. A short guy wearing a bulletproof vest thrust earpieces and a receiver at them. “You’re in the van.”
Dez smirked as the man walked off, still handing out equipment. “He’s got the body armor on, but how much you want to bet that he won’t be entering the warehouse?”
Sherri adjusted the stiff vest she wore herself. She might be brave, but she wasn’t stupid. As much as Dez sneered, he wore one, too. Department-issue bulletproof vest that could take a few shots, depending on the ammunition. Not that it would completely protect them if things went sideways. She glanced around the parking lot and saw several agents getting into the van. “You ready for this?”
Dez gave a short nod. “I’ve been waiting since six this morning to see some action.”
“And you chose to leave the military why?”
“There’s a difference, and you well know it.” He steered her toward the van and let her get in first before following her inside. “Doesn’t mean I don’t miss it at times.”
The drive to the riverside warehouse took about ten minutes, and they parked the vehicles in the parking lot next door to their target. Without a word, Sherri walked to the warehouse, gun in hand, scanning the docks and surrounding areas for any gang members. Empty. She reached the door that was the point of entry for the raid and stood against the wall, waiting for the signal to enter. Dez squatted behind her and leaned in close enough that she could feel his breath on her ear. “Call me crazy, but I got a bad feeling about this.”
She turned and watched as one of the DEA agents counted down from five with his fingers. After he held up one finger, he waved Sherri and Dez to enter the warehouse. Sherri kicked at the door and shouted, “Federal agents! Get down! Get down!”
Chaos erupted in the warehouse. Tables overturned; guns were drawn. The noise level rose as more agents screamed out orders, and the drug dealers shouted back. Sherri wasn’t certain who fired their guns first, but a barrage of bullets started to fill the air in their direction. She crouched down behind a wooden pallet and looked over at Dez, who shook his head. He pointed to his chest then to the right. Then to her and the floor.
There was no way she was going to sit still while the action happened around her. She shook her head, pointed to her chest and then to the right. Dez rolled his eyes and nodded. He pointed to himself then to her, meaning he’d follow her.
Sherri crawled to the right then stopped as she saw two shoes on the other side of the table she crouched behind. She wasn’t sure if they belonged to someone on their team or to one of the drug runners, but she wasn’t going to wait to find out. She pointed them out to Dez then held up her gun. She stood and held her gun out in front of her. “Federal agent. Put your hands up!”
The guy turned to face her, shooting his gun in her direction as he did so. It felt like everything was in slow motion after that. She fired her weapon twice as she fell to the floor, knocked over by the weight of Dez. She felt the back of her head smack on the concrete floor, and she moaned.
Dez looked down at her, his body lying on top of hers. “Are you okay? Did he get you?”
She squirmed under the weight of him. The sensation of his body against hers felt odd, yet familiar and intimate in the middle of a gunfight. She tucked that thought away to analyze later. “Why did you knock me down? I had him.”
“More like he had you.” Dez poked his head up then frowned down at her. “Stay down or you’ll get us both killed.”
She rolled to her belly and used her arms to push herself off the floor. “Intelligence said four or five guys and no weapons. What happened?”
“So much for the intel.” He pulled her closer to his side. Bullets still flew in the air around them. He aimed his weapon at one of the drug dealers who provided suppressive fire to cover their retreat. Dez fired his gun and hit the man in the shoulder, then turned to aim at another one who shot at the DEA agents by the front door. One shot, and the man went down, too. Sherri knew Dez was a good shot. He’d been known for it in the Marine Corps, but she’d never seen it firsthand. Impressive.
“Do you plan on taking them all down one by one?”
He glanced back at her. “Right now my goal is to get us all out alive. Forget trying to subdue twenty men with a team of half that.”
Sherri nodded and took in their surroundings. Two DEA agents held down one of the drug runners, but there were at least a dozen more of the bad guys by one of the exits with guns blazing. She did a perimeter check and noticed a door on the far right side of the warehouse. Probably led to an office, but it could be a means of getting out. Or there could be more of these drug runners hiding out and waiting for their time to take them all down. She pointed it out to Dez, who gave a short nod. “Go. I’ll back you up.”
She took a deep breath then got to her feet and ran for the office door. A man to her left turned his gun on her, and she shot him before he got the chance to put his finger on the trigger. He gave a cry and fell to the floor. She kept running, the office door ten feet away. Five. Two. One.
She tried the door handle. Locked. She hit her fist on the door then turned and shook her head at Dez. They needed to get in that room. Just like they needed to call for more backup. No one was going to get out alive if they didn’t get more firepower on their side. They were outmanned and definitely outgunned.
Dez came up alongside her then pushed her away from the door. He gave the handle a kick. Nothing. Another kick, and another. On the fourth, it gave way and the door opened. Empty. Sherri entered and secured the area then nodded to Dez. He stayed in the doorway and watched for any intruders on their temporary hideout.
Sherri pressed her earpiece, trying to make sense out of the shouting and garbled nonsense. “Something’s blocking our communications. You know what that means.”
“No one’s coming.” Dez grimaced and muttered a curse word under his breath. He glanced around the office and pointed to an old rotary phone. “See if that works.”
She picked up the phone and checked for a dial tone. She gave a short nod and dialed 911. After giving the address and a brief summary of events to the operator, she could feel her heart starting to slow down to a normal beat. She thanked the dispatcher and hung up the phone. “They already sent backup. Someone must have gotten word out before we lost communication.”
“Good.” Dez kept his gaze out on the warehouse floor, where movement seemed to have ceased. So had the gunfire. “Sounds like they’ve given up. Or left.”
“Or they’re pausing to reload.”
Dez turned back, a grin splitting his face. “Always the optimist.”
The sound of sirens in the background sent a wave of relief through Sherri. The cavalry was here to save them. She joined Dez at the doorway, gun ready just in case. “We should see who’s hurt.”
“Feels like Fallujah all over again. I left the Corps to get away from this. That’s what I don’t miss about the military.” He led the way back to the warehouse floor and bent down to check on a fallen woman, one of the DEA agents. He shook his head at Sherri.
She bit her lip as she leaned down and closed the woman’s eyes. It was the one she’d just been joking with about being a female in a predominantly male office. They had laughed about it only an hour ago, and now she was dead and Sherri couldn’t even remember the woman’s name. And that seemed to hurt more.
She straightened and felt a little woozy. She shook her head, trying to clear it, and followed Dez to where more bodies lay on the floor. He took the right side of the room while she took the left. Two dead agents and five drug runners. Plus another agent and seven more bad guys wounded.
The warehouse doors opened, and four uniformed police officers swarmed inside. Dez and Sherri holstered their weapons and held up their IDs. “Border Patrol.”
One of the officers approached them and nodded. He surveyed the room. “What happened in here?”
Dez put his ID back into the pocket of his jeans. “Drug raid gone bad. I assume we have some ambulances on their way here, too.”
The officer nodded. “Call came in about gunshots fired. Protocol says we get an ambo just in case.” He looked Dez and Sherri up and down. “You two hurt?”
Sherri shook her head, which seemed to be buzzing. Probably the adrenaline. “We were the lucky ones.”
The officer frowned and glanced at Sherri’s side. “Are you sure about that?”
Sherri looked at her right side and gasped. A bullet had shredded the body armor, and a dark red stain seeped through her white blouse underneath. She put her hand over the area and found it wet. She looked over at Dez. “Did I get shot?”
Dez removed her bulletproof vest and whistled. “I’d say so, Ace.” He put his arm around her. “I think we need to find a paramedic.”
Sherri nodded, but it felt as if it wasn’t her head that moved. Just as it wasn’t her body that had been pierced by a bullet. She felt nothing. Shouldn’t she feel something? She opened her mouth to say something to Dez, but blackness enveloped her.
* * *
BEFORE SHERRI COULD hit the floor, Dez scooped her up in his arms as easily as if she was a rag doll. He pushed past the officer and walked out the door of the warehouse. Too much like Fallujah. An ambulance with lights flashing waited outside in the parking lot of the warehouse. “I’ve got an agent down here.”
A paramedic rushed to him with her medical bag. “How long has she been unconscious?”
“Not even a minute.” He kneeled so that he could lay Sherri on the pavement. This was all his fault. He’d jumped at the chance to be a part of the raid and had dragged her along with him. Not that she’d protested. He had a suspicion she would have volunteered them if he hadn’t first. But this was his fault. He muffled a curse word. “She didn’t know she was shot.”
The paramedic used scissors to cut the blouse up the side and exposed Sherri’s injury. Dez knew he should probably look away, but the angry red wound drew his gaze like a moth to flame. He winced. “Is it bad?”
The paramedic shifted Sherri’s body, examining it, and shook her head. “Looks like it went through but we’ll take her to the hospital to be sure. She’s losing a lot of blood, though.” She glanced at him. “Do you know what blood type she is, by chance?”
He shook his head. He knew enough about Sherri since they’d been partners for the last four years. He knew how she liked her coffee, what she’d wear to work and how she wrinkled her nose when she laughed, but he didn’t know that important detail. “Sorry.”
“They’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” The paramedic glanced behind her at her partner. “Mark, get the stretcher. We’re taking her in.”
Dez grasped Sherri’s hand, which lay slack in his. “I’m going with you.”
The paramedic glanced at him then gave a short nod. “You sure they don’t need you here anymore?”
“They’ll know where to find me. She needs me more.” Because there was no way he was going to leave Sherri’s side now. He let go of her hand as the paramedics strapped Sherri onto the board then carried her to the ambulance. He ran behind them and jumped into the back, crouched next to Sherri as the driver slammed the doors shut, and then they were off in a flurry of lights and sirens.
Dez pushed Sherri’s long hair out of her face. “She has to be okay.”
“Is there anyone you can call? Her family?”
He nodded and removed his cell phone from the interior pocket of his jacket. He had her mom’s number programmed in case of emergency, and there was no bigger emergency than this. He scanned through the names on his contact list then pressed Perla’s name.
A hand reached out and touched his arm. He looked up to find Sherri watching him and shaking her head. “Don’t call her.”
“You’re hurt. She needs to know.”
“I don’t want her to worry.” She shifted on the board and winced. “I’ll call her later.”
“Sorry, Ace, but this is out of your hands.” He pressed the name and waited while the phone rang despite Sherri’s protests. When her mom answered the other end, he gave her brief details about what had happened. “They’re taking us to...”
He glanced at the paramedic who was putting an IV into Sherri’s vein. “Detroit General.” He repeated the information to Sherri’s mom.
“How is she?” Perla asked.
Dez looked over at Sherri, who glared at him. If she didn’t have one arm being poked with a needle, he was sure she’d be giving him the finger. “I think she’s going to be just fine.”
“Tell her I love her, and we’ll be right there.”
Dez hung up and gave Sherri the message. She groaned. “Just what I don’t need. The waiting room filled with my family.” She winced as the paramedic packed more gauze around the bleeding wound. “My mom’s going to kill me. I promised her the job was a safe one.”
“It should have been. Someone tipped them off.” He put a hand on Sherri’s foot. “Just don’t die on me. I don’t want to have to get used to a new partner.”
“Ha-ha.” But she didn’t look like she was amused. Instead, her eyes were clouded with pain that also left tight lines around her mouth.
“They’ll take care of you, and you’ll be back at work in no time.” He said it mostly because he hoped it was true. He couldn’t imagine having to work without her. Couldn’t imagine living without seeing her most days. He pressed the center of his chest where there seemed to be a hot object being pushed into his skin.
The ambulance pulled into the hospital parking lot, and then the back doors were opened and people were running out to meet them. Dez stepped back as they removed Sherri from the ambulance and transferred her onto a wheeled gurney. He followed the short ER doctor as she yelled out orders to her team. “Take her to Trauma Two. And I want O neg pumped into her ASAP.” She glanced up at Dez. “Anything I need to know about my patient?”
“She’s a warrior. Don’t let her die.”
The doc gave a curt nod then ran into the ER. Dez watched her go and then dropped his head. He could stop being strong for a moment.
* * *
SHERRI WATCHED AS a team of nurses and interns buzzed around her, asking questions, removing bloody gauze, hooking her up to an IV bag, probing the wound. That last one made her sit up and shout. “Are you trying to kill me?”
The ER doctor entered the room and moved people away so that she could see the wound. Sherri looked down at the blood and swallowed back the acidic taste in her mouth. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, willing herself not to pass out despite the ringing in her ears. “Is it bad?”
“I’ve seen worse.” The doctor irrigated the wound with saline from a syringe then felt around the area with her fingertips. “Good news is that the bullet passed through, so I think you just need a few dozen stitches. My concern is the loss of blood.” She probed an area above the wound and frowned. Spread her fingers out farther. “How long have you noticed this lump here, Ms. Lopez?”
Sherri looked down where the doctor had her fingers and shook her head. “I never noticed.”
“Probably nothing.” She turned to a nurse, giving out orders. “I’m going to suture the wound. And go check on where that blood is.”
Sherri bit her lip as the doctor skillfully sewed the wound together on the front. She couldn’t watch and kept her gaze on the blinds that covered the windows that looked out into the ER. “Dr. Sprader, am I going to be able to go back to work?”
The doctor didn’t look up at her, but continued to place tiny stitches to bind her skin over the hole. “My guess is that a small thing like a bullet hole won’t keep you down.” She looked up at Sherri. “At least not for long. Now let’s suture where the bullet came out.”
Sherri turned on her side so the doctor could find the wound on her back. She winced as she felt fingertips trace the area. “My partner...”
“He’s in the waiting room, pacing. Don’t worry. I’ll give him an update once I’m finished here.” Dr. Sprader fell silent for a moment, the noise of the ER outside the room the only sounds. She sighed as she sutured the wound. “So how did you get a bullet in you?”
“Ambush during a drug raid.” Sherri sucked in air as the wound burned.
“I’ll be sure to get you some painkillers as well as antibiotics for you to take home.” The doctor placed a large square of white gauze over the wound and taped it into place. “I’m also going to ask that you take it easy for a few days so that you don’t rip out my handiwork too soon.”
Dr. Sprader helped Sherri shift again onto her back and taped gauze over the front wound. She frowned again. “Do you mind if I check something out? I don’t think it’s related to your injury, but it concerns me.”
Sherri nodded and watched as the doctor probed the area above the gauze on the underside of her breast. Dr. Sprader obviously didn’t like what she found because she told the nurse beside her to call the radiology department to get them in for a consult. Sherri frowned. “Radiology?”
“There’s a lump on the underside of your breast that I don’t like.” Dr. Sprader guided Sherri’s fingers to the spot about the size of a half pea but hard rather than mushy. “You haven’t noticed that?”
Sherri shook her head. “What do you think it is?”
“More than eighty percent of lumps are nothing, but I don’t want to play around.” She removed her bright pink skullcap to reveal short, spiky, dark blond hair no longer than an inch. “I’ve just finished my own fight with breast cancer, so I know how important it is to get answers early.”
What? Cancer? Sherri tried to find words to say but couldn’t seem to find any. Instead, she shook her head until the doctor put a hand on hers. “Like I said. Most turn out to be nothing, a cyst. But I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“Okay.”
A nurse poked her head into the room. “Ron says he can take her in about an hour. And she’s got an army wanting to see her out in the waiting room.”
Sherri closed her eyes and took another deep breath. “Mama.”
“I can go get her so that she can accompany you up to radiology if you’d like.”
Sherri shook her head. As comforting as the thought was of having Mama next to her while they ran tests, she had to be strong and do this on her own. “No. I don’t want her to know anything yet. But I do want to see her before.” She paused. “And Dez.”
Dr. Sprader nodded. “I’ll send her back. And she’ll only know what you want to tell her.”
The doctor left, and Sherri collapsed back onto the gurney. Chances are the lump Dr. Sprader had found was nothing. But what if it wasn’t?
* * *
THE ER DOCTOR entered the waiting room and scanned faces until she found his. She gave a soft smile and approached where he stood among the many members of the Lopez family. “She’s asking to see you and her mother.”
Dez reached around and brought Perla Lopez forward. The woman grasped the doctor’s hand. “How is she?”
“She’s going to be fine, Mrs. Lopez. If you follow me, I’ll take you back to see her.”
Dez frowned at this. “When will she be ready to go home?”
“There’s some tests I’d like to run first before we release her.” She wound around the various beds and rooms before taking them back to a trauma area. She opened the door and led them both inside then quietly left.
Sherri lay on the gurney, her left arm over her eyes, which she dropped to her side and held out to her mother. “I’m going to be fine, Mama.”
Perla rushed to her left side and pulled her into an embrace, tears streaming from her eyes. “Desmond said that you were okay, but I needed to see it with my own eyes.”
“It’s okay.” Sherri winced but didn’t let go of her mother. “I’m okay.”
Dez touched her foot still in a black boot. “They let you keep the bullet as a souvenir?”
Her eyes rose to his, and she shook her head. “No bullet. Passed right through. Just like the paramedic said.”
“She said that when you were unconscious.”
Sherri shrugged. “I heard her say it, though. I’ll have to take it easy, but other than that I’m good to go. What we need to do is figure out who tipped off our drug runners that we were coming.”
“There’s time for that later. The important part is for you to get better. How are you going to pitch your killer curveball this summer if you pull out your stitches?” He felt better talking about the coed softball team they cocaptained rather than the chance he could have lost her earlier. Easier to joke around than admit that he’d almost choked on his fear. He needed her more than he had realized, wanted her in a way he hadn’t known before. Pushing that thought aside, he leaned against one wall, his hands behind his back to avoid doing something stupid like touching her to make sure she was okay. “We’re not going to lose out to the Detroit Cop Union again. You need to be in fighting shape.”
She paled but nodded. “I will be.”
“Good.”
Perla pressed a kiss to Sherri’s forehead. “Your father, he’s been pacing the waiting room. Can I send him back?” When Sherri nodded, Perla looked up to Dez. “Would you mind going to get him?”
“Actually, Mama, I need to talk to Dez alone for a moment. Work stuff. Do you mind?”
Perla kissed Sherri again then left the room. Dez raised an eyebrow at Sherri. “You want to talk work stuff?”
“No. The doctor found something, and I don’t want Mama to know. Not yet.” She touched her chest above the white gauze that covered her wound. “A lump.”
Dez took a step forward and grasped the bed rail to keep from falling. What was she saying? “What kind of lump?”
“She doesn’t know, so that’s why she’s running more tests. Dez, I’m...” She broke off and reached out to touch his hand. “What if it’s cancer?”
He clasped her hand in his. “What if it’s not?”
She swallowed, and she looked so pale. As if the blood had drained from her face and out her wound. He noticed the IV that pumped blood into her, so that couldn’t be it. She brought her eyes up to his. “But what if it is? It’ll change everything.”
“Then we’ll deal with it if it is.” He squeezed her hand. “But chances are it’s not. What did the doctor think?”
“Better safe than sorry. And she did say the chances are small.”
He gave her a smile, hoping it showed her that he was more confident than he felt. “There you go. Stop worrying about the worst-case scenario and focus on the greater possibility that it’s nothing.”
Sherri let out a breath through her nose, and her nostrils flared. “Before we went into that warehouse, you remember what you said? Well, I got a bad feeling about this.”
* * *
THE HOUR UNTIL she could get into her mammogram turned into two. She sent her family home with promises to call when she was released. She’d even said goodbye to Dez, who watched her with a dark emotion shining from his chocolate-brown eyes. She hated to have dumped her thoughts on him, but that was what they did. They shared everything, and this was just one more thing to add to the pile.
She’d been changed into a light pink smock that tied in the front. She could lift her right shoulder a little, but the pain from her side limited her motion. The ER doctor quickly assisted her. Sherri looked at her. “You don’t have to stay with me, you know. Your job ended once I was cleaned and sutured.”
Dr. Sprader didn’t look at her but fastened the ties around Sherri’s side to keep the smock in place. “I know, but I remember this. Waiting for tests, and then results. And all the time wondering what did I do to deserve it?” She lifted her blue-gray eyes to meet Sherri’s. “I don’t want you to go through it alone like I did, Ms. Lopez. Besides, I’m off duty and can do what I want.”
“I’ll be fine. And it’s Sherri.”
Dr. Sprader took a deep breath. “I’m April.”
They walked out of the dressing room and into the waiting area that was painted and carpeted in various shades of pink. April gestured Sherri to a chair and grabbed a magazine. “They’re running behind so we could be waiting for a while.”
Sherri took the magazine and flipped through it, not able to focus on the images or words. Instead, her mind buzzed with possible outcomes. Finally, she dropped the magazine back onto the table and glanced around. Another woman in a similar pink smock gave her a tremulous smile, which Sherri tried to return, but found it too much of an effort. “When were you diagnosed?”
April looked up from her own magazine. “About a year ago. I was lucky since they found it early. But I have friends who weren’t so fortunate.”
“What happens next?”
“After the mammogram, a doctor will analyze the images then maybe nothing. I’ll take you back to the ER, and you can go home.” April touched her hand as if to reassure her this would be the result.
But Sherri was a realist, if nothing else. She could focus on what she hoped would be the outcome, but she needed to know all the facts. “And if it’s not nothing?”
“An ultrasound, and maybe a biopsy. It’ll be over before you know it.”
Biopsy meant more needles. Sherri gave a small shudder. “And then?”
“Let’s wait and see before we jump to any conclusions.”
The radiology doctor must not have liked Sherri’s images because she had the ultrasound and a biopsy and left the hospital with a promise that she would receive a call with results within the next few days. She called Mama to ask if one of her brothers could come pick her up and take her home.
But it was Dez who arrived in his slick dark blue sports car. He saw her standing at the entrance and got out of the car and ran to the passenger side to let her in. “What did they say?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He didn’t say a word, didn’t ask anything, as she buckled herself into the car and waited for him to get in and drive her home. But he reached out and held her hand the entire way home.
CHAPTER TWO (#ua5685325-381b-585e-8b10-b00b57138d52)
SHERRI KNOCKED ON Captain White’s office door and entered it when he called out her name. She handed him the typed report regarding the botched drug raid, and he started to skim it with interest. She took a seat and winced as she hit her side with the armrest. Captain White looked up at her. “You’re sure you’re fit to return to work?”
She’d already gotten the all clear from HR, but she nodded at her superior. “Yes, sir. It was just a twinge.”
He nodded and returned to reading her report. When he finished, he looked her over. “You think they got a tip?”
“They knew we were coming, sir. Why all the firepower when previous intelligence indicated little, or none?” She shook her head. “Agent Jackson agrees with my assessment.”
“Yes, he does.” The captain put her report on top of Dez’s and crossed his arms. “How are you really doing? If you need some time to recuperate from your injury...”
“I told you I’m fine. Sore, but nothing I can’t handle.” Her cell phone strapped to her belt buzzed. She saw the number and frowned. “Sorry, Captain, I need to take this. It’s the hospital.” She stepped out of his office and answered her phone. “Lopez here.”
“Ms. Lopez, I’m Dr. VanGilder from Detroit General. I received your biopsy results, and I was hoping you could set up an appointment to come in and discuss them.”
She plopped down on the edge of a nearby desk, her legs suddenly losing the ability to stay standing and upright. “So it’s bad news.”
There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “I’d really like to discuss this in person. Does tomorrow afternoon at four work for you?”
No. More like never worked for her. She didn’t want to meet and discuss anything with this doctor. She wanted to be given a pat on the head, told she was fine then sent back into the world, whole and healthy. “Why not next week?”
“I’d rather not wait on this, Ms. Lopez.”
That couldn’t be good. “Then I’ll make tomorrow afternoon work.” She hung up her phone and looked up to see Dez watching her. She shook her head and pushed herself off the desk. Walked into the ladies’ room and leaned over the sink, peering into the mirror above it. Did she look sick? Could she see the cancer that had been hiding in her body? Her eyes burned, and she closed them. Took a few deep breaths then left the restroom.
Dez waited for her in the hallway. “Bad news?”
He always knew without her telling him. Was he psychic or something? He had told her before it was more like her thoughts telegraphed onto her face, and he knew how to interpret its messages. “The doctor is going to go over the test results with me tomorrow.”
Dez ducked his head and stared at the floor. He muttered a curse under his breath. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“No offense, Dez, but it’s not something I want a guy to overhear about me.” She shook her head. “No, it’s time that I told my mom. I should take her.”
He looked up at her and put a hand on her shoulder. “If you change your mind, you know I’m here.”
She was tempted to step into his arms and have him hold her until she could feel close to normal again, but didn’t want to cross that line yet. She might need him later. Instead, she stepped away from Dez and walked down the hall to call her mom. “I’ll be coming over tonight after work, if that’s okay.”
“You never have to ask for permission.” Her mom paused on the other end. “I tell you what. I make your favorite enchiladas for dinner.”
“You really don’t need to. I wanted to see you and Dad.” But she knew that telling her mom not to cook was like asking the ocean not to wave. “Thanks, Mama.”
“Anytime, mija.”
Sherri hung up the phone and walked back to her desk. Took a seat and stared at her computer monitor. She should do some work. Keep herself distracted from the thoughts in her head that threatened to pull her down into a dark place. One that she feared would spread its cold fingers around her throat and choke her.
But work had little appeal, and she ended up staring at the screen and watching the clock until she could justify leaving. She waved to Dez and left the office before he could send her any more looks of pity.
Traffic from the office to the old neighborhood distracted her enough from thinking, and she soon pulled up to her parents’ house and parked on the street. She sat in the driver’s seat and looked up at the home she’d lived in since she was six. Thirty years later, her parents still stayed despite offers from her and her brothers to help them move into a condo or a smaller house that wouldn’t require as much upkeep. They turned them down, assuring them that they weren’t that old yet. Sherri doubted that they’d ever admit when things became too much.
A rap on the passenger-side window startled her. She pressed the button for it to lower and her baby brother Hugo stuck his head inside. “Mom wants to know if you’re coming in or if you plan on eating your dinner out here.”
Sarcasm from her little brother? It must be a normal day in the Lopez household. “Ha-ha. I’ll be right in.”
Hugo peered at her, frowning. “You okay?”
She nodded and got out on the driver’s side. She looked at him over the roof of her car. “Yep. How’s college?”
“Don’t remind me right now. Final exams next week. I’ve been studying so much, this is the first time I’ve been outdoors in the last three days.”
“And graduation a week after that, don’t forget.” She walked around and put her left arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. “We’re so proud of you. Our baby is finally growing up.”
She ruffled his hair, and he pushed her away. “Knock it off.” He ran the rest of the short walk up to the house and opened the front door. “She’s finally here. Can we eat now? I’m starving.”
Mama walked into the living room and waved with her spatula to Sherri as she entered the house. “Hi, mija. Can you see if Abuela is ready for dinner? She’s watching her stories in her bedroom.”
“Sure.” Sherri walked down the hallway to the room that had once belonged to her until she’d moved out at eighteen and joined the army. She knocked softly on the door then opened it. “Abuela, dinner is ready.”
“Mi joya, you’re home.” Abuela groaned as she pushed off her rocking chair and approached her. She pulled Sherri’s face down to her level and gave her a loud, smacking kiss. “Tu madre tells me you got shot.”
“It was nothing.” She held up her right arm and showed off the padding under the blouse she wore. “I’ll be healed in no time.”
Abuela nodded then put her arm through Sherri’s. “If you say it is true, it is. Now tell me more about your young man.”
Sherri wanted to roll her eyes. Her grandmother never gave up on this idea that she should be married. “I don’t have one, Abuela, and you know that. I’m free as a bird.”
“Even birds make nests with their mates.”
They slowly walked down the hall and into the living room, where Sherri’s father stared at the television screen. He muttered a curse in Spanish at the baseball players then looked up at Sherri. “Those Tigers are going to put me in an early grave.”
Sherri laughed and kissed her father on his cheek. “They lose just to annoy you.”
“Bah.” He flipped the television off with the remote. “Let’s go to the table before your madre chases at me with her spatula.”
Dinner seemed quieter than their usual family dinners, but without her other two brothers and their families, less than half were present. Or maybe it was because Sherri stayed silent, lost in her thoughts. She looked up several times from her dinner plate to find Mama watching her, and she smiled as if to tell her that everything was okay.
After dinner Sherri volunteered to wash the dishes with Mama. Thirty years, and they still hadn’t bought a dishwasher. Maybe she’d buy it as a Christmas gift and save her hands from early wrinkles. She thrust her hands into the sudsy water and pulled out a plate then swiped it with a cloth before handing it to Mama.
“Something on your mind, mija? I figured you wanted to talk to me when you volunteered to wash dishes.”
Sherri nodded and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Now that she was ready to tell her mother what was going on, the words got stuck and wouldn’t come out. She took a deep breath and washed a glass, wiping it several times before she could turn and face her mother. “Would you come with me to the doctor tomorrow?”
Mama put the plate in the cupboard. “Of course. Are you sick?”
“I don’t know.” She dropped her head and let it hang while she tried to say words without turning them into sobs. “They found a lump, and they tested it, and now this doctor wants to tell me the news in person.” She raised her eyes to her mother’s tearful ones. “I’m scared, Mama. What if he says it’s cancer? What am I gonna do?”
Mama opened her arms, and Sherri fell into them. She rubbed her back in slow circles as Sherri held on tight. “It’ll be okay, mija. No matter what it is, you’ll be fine.”
Somehow with her mother saying it, Sherri felt slightly better. Maybe it would be okay.
* * *
DEZ PLACED THE cardboard cup of coffee from the diner down the street in front of Sherri, who kept her gaze on her computer monitor. “You look like hell.”
She glanced up at him then snatched the coffee. “Thanks. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I used my time to look at the drug raid from several angles.” She turned the screen so that he could see her notes. She pointed to a list. “These are the people who knew the details about the raid. One of them had to spill the beans to someone in the drug ring.”
He noted she’d put their names on the list. “Well, you can scratch us off since I know we didn’t tell anyone. Not even the captain knew the details about the raid until after it was over.”
“I’m trying to be thorough, so our names stay.” She took a long draw from the cup of coffee and sighed. “We’re missing something. I know it, but I can’t figure out what.”
“You’re sure this list is inclusive? What about the DEA’s informant? Where did they get their intel from?” He sipped from his own coffee and took a seat on the edge of Sherri’s desk. “How do we know that their source was reliable?”
“The DEA isn’t talking right now, so we’re in the dark.” She shook her head. “They lost agents in that raid, so they’re holding their cards close to their chests.” She pressed Save on the computer and pushed away from her desk. “Something doesn’t seem right about this whole thing.”
“You’re thinking a mole?”
“I don’t know yet for sure, but it does seem like someone wanted them to know we were coming. If we had kept our planned time, they probably wouldn’t have been there. But then the lead agent bumped up our arrival and...”
“And they had to shoot their way out.” He noticed the dark smudges under her eyes, and something inside him reared its head. He wanted desperately to protect her from whatever this was. To keep her safe. “What time is your doctor appointment?”
“Four. I came in early to make up my shorter day. I told Mama I’d pick her up at three thirty.”
She looked so small, so scared. He’d never seen her like this. She was so confident, so assured. But this same woman seemed to have shrunken into herself. He put a hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything...”
Sherri stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t do that.”
He looked down at himself and held his arms out. What in the world was she talking about? “I’m just offering my support.”
“I’m not sick or dying.” But the look on her face told a different story.
“Didn’t say you were.” He noticed that her eyes filled with tears, and he muttered a soft curse before pulling her in his arms. “Don’t tell me this isn’t appropriate, but you look like you could use a hug.”
She pushed him away. “That’s what I’m talking about. Don’t hug me or tell me it’s going to be okay. I need you to act normal. Got it?”
He sure did. His warrior was scared to death about this doctor’s appointment and what it could mean for her future. Their future. A bullet had come close to taking her away from him, and now cancer could be threatening to do the same? He swallowed at the acid at the back of his throat. He couldn’t lose her. His life didn’t make sense without her. He nodded. “Normal. I can do that.”
“Good.” She picked up her coffee and looked around the office where agents started to trickle in. “Now find us a case or something to occupy our time until I have to leave.”
“I’ve got just the thing.” He pulled a file from his desk next to hers and plopped it down. “Fake IDs and passports confiscated at the Detroit-Windsor border. Want to find who’s making them?”
Sherri grinned, and Dez felt like he’d gotten his partner back from her inner turmoil.
“You really know how to make this girl’s day,” she said.
* * *
SHERRI GLANCED AT the swarthy guy who sat in the chair across the table from her, then looked down at the file in front of her. She stood and started to pace around the interrogation room while Dez casually leaned against one wall.
He’d agreed that she’d take lead in the questioning, so she slammed a fist on the file. The guy rolled his eyes at her, which just ticked her off even more. “This is a serious matter, Giroux. You’re selling fake passports and IDs, which is a felony. But then you’re selling them to people on the Department of Homeland Security’s watch list? Now we’re talking treason.” She leaned over the table. “Much more serious.”
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 (#ua5685325-381b-585e-8b10-b00b57138d52)
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?”
“I’m recuperating, not dead.” She could talk without hurting something. “What about the tests run on the drugs we found on scene?”
Dez leaned closer to her and dropped the volume of his voice. “Consistent with what we found before. It’s the same kind of dope, so the same dealers.”
Sherri went and stood at the large bay window, scanning the front yard. “It’s coming in right under our noses,” she said. She turned back to Dez. “And they’re getting help from one of us.”
He frowned at this. “Someone with Border Patrol?”
She’d bet money that it wasn’t one of their team specifically, but she couldn’t rule it out. Good people did dumb things all the time. “Uh-huh. I’d stake my reputation and job on it. What’s your gut telling you?”
“That we still have more questions than answers. And I don’t want to make any assumptions that could cost us or set our investigation back.”
She sighed. “Something else has been bothering me for the last few days. Giroux said that he knew who had been present at the raid as well as who wasn’t. What if our inside guy didn’t show up that day? Was there anyone expected to have been there who wasn’t?”
Dez pulled out a small notebook and pen and made a note. “That’s good. Maybe our mole wanted to be out of the way of flying bullets and passed on being there. I’ll look into it.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “When are you coming back to work? I’d rather we did this together.”
That was the big question. She was ready for the job, tender muscles or no. She needed to be on this case, on her other cases. What she didn’t need was to be sitting and doing nothing except thinking about what could be happening in her body. She craved the routine of waking up every morning and driving to the office. And part of her feared that Dr. VanGilder would find something that would take that away. That normalcy. “Tuesday afternoon I have my appointment with VanGilder. I’ll have some answers after that, at least.”
“Good. The office isn’t the same without you.”
She shook her head but smiled at this. “I’ve only missed a couple of days.”
Dez grinned and she was struck by how it made him appear so appealing. Attractive. Handsome even. A dimple winked at her from one of his cheeks. “One day too many,” he said.
Pushing those thoughts aside—this was her partner and friend Dez after all—Sherri told him genuinely, “Thanks for coming over.”
Dez glanced around the living room and held up his hands. “Trying to get rid of me already? Your mom promised to feed me.”
Of course she did. Because that was what her mother did, stuffed everyone with food who came through the front door. Sherri wanted, no, needed, time and space to examine how confused she felt about Dez. And she’d have a clearer picture if the man himself wasn’t standing in front of her looking so good.
She brought a hand up to her hair and wished she’d at least washed it in the sink. Not that her appearance had mattered when it came to Dez. Despite Mama’s assertions, she knew he thought of her only in terms of friendship and work.
* * *
TUESDAY’S APPOINTMENT WITH Dr. VanGilder gave Sherri stomach cramps the more she thought about it. She dressed as if she was going to work. A cream blouse, navy jacket and pants. She tried to think of herself as putting on her armor to face whatever dragon still lay before her. If she acted like this was a typical day, then maybe that was how it would turn out.
She drove to her parents’ neighborhood to pick up Mama, who had agreed to take notes while the doctor went over all the test results and made his recommendation for treatment. She pulled her car to the curb and took the tray of coffees with her to the front door. Her father answered and exclaimed when she thrust a bakery bag into his hand. “Thought you could use something sweet.”
He opened the bag, then kissed Sherri’s cheek. “Honey crullers. My favorite.” He pushed the door open wider so that she could enter. “Your madre said she’d call me at work, after you talk to the surgeon, to let me know.”
“I’m sorry you can’t go with us.”
Her dad waved his free hand. “Some stuff a father doesn’t need to know.”
Sherri moved ahead to the kitchen and put the tray of coffees on the counter. She took one of the paper cups and sipped from it. “It’s going to be okay, Dad.”
He watched her, his eyes searching hers. “Trying to convince me? Or yourself?”
She gave a half-hearted shrug. “Both maybe.”
They looked at each other for a long while, but didn’t say any more. Instead, her dad pulled a cruller from the bag and offered it to her. She shook her head. “I got them for you,” she told him.
“Gracias.”
Mama entered the kitchen, followed by Abuela. Sherri pointed to the counter. “I brought coffee and crullers, if Dad will share.”
“I don’t think I can eat, mija.” Mama held a hand to her belly. “I didn’t sleep at all last night and my stomach...it is in knots.”
Her dad kissed Mama and hugged her tightly. “Sherri said it’s going to be okay.” He kissed her again. “It will be. No matter what the doctor says.”
Sherri glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’d better get going just in case of rush hour.”
Despite the heavy traffic, they made it to the hospital with plenty of time to spare. Sherri clasped Mama’s hand in hers as they entered the doctor’s office and found seats in the tiny waiting room. Mama held up a small pad and pen. “For notes, just like I promised.”
Thank goodness her mom had remembered, because Sherri wasn’t sure she could remember her own name at the moment. All she could focus on was the beat of her heart. Each breath took an effort, and her skin felt tight as if it would crack and break open with a simple movement.
A nurse opened the inner office door and called Sherri’s name. Sherri rose to her feet and squared her shoulders. Mama nodded and stood, as well.
The next hour was spent discussing test results and the next steps. Sherri’s prognosis wasn’t good. Scans showed cancer peppered throughout her right breast, not just in the lump they’d removed. The biopsy indicated that it was a type of cancer that tended to spread rather than remain localized. Sherri held up her hand. “Wait. What are we talking about here?”
Dr. VanGilder looked up from the medical file and faced her. “I recommend a bilateral mastectomy.”
Sherri brought her arms up to her chest. “Both? But I thought the cancer was only in the right one.”
Dr. VanGilder stepped forward, closing the distance between them. A kind, but knowing expression on his face. “It is, although there are suspicious spots in the left I’m looking down the road.”
“And then after the surgery?”
“Depending on further test results, chemo and radiation. And once you’re healed, reconstruction.” He tried to give her a smile, but the situation didn’t seem to call for it. Instead, he let out a sigh. “When this is all over, we can give you the body you want.”
“But what if I want this one? It’s what I know.” Sherri shook her head and dropped her arms to her sides. “This isn’t fair.”
“Cancer doesn’t care about what’s fair, unfortunately.” Dr. VanGilder closed the file. “Sherri, obviously this is hard for you to take in, but the sooner we move on this, the better your chances are later.”
Mama reached out and took Sherri’s hand in hers and squeezed it. “When do we do this?” Sherri asked.
He checked his tablet. “I have an opening in two weeks.”
Sherri took a deep breath and let it out slowly. So soon? Too soon. She tried to swallow and tasted bile. What was she going to do? What was there to do but agree to the doctor’s recommendation? She agreed and appreciated Mama’s note-taking, since she didn’t hear another word that Dr. VanGilder said after that. Her mind instead insisted she’d do what she would have to in order to survive. Surgery? Fine. Chemo and radiation? Sure. Because she wouldn’t give up and give in to this disease. She would fight.
But she didn’t have to be happy about it.
* * *
THIS DAY COULDN’T arrive any sooner for Dez. He’d missed seeing Sherri on a daily basis, even though he’d been with her just days ago at her parents’ house. He kept watching the office door for her to enter. She’d promised to show as soon as she’d met with the surgeon. He kept his fingers crossed for good news. They could use some of that.
Noon was approaching and still no Sherri. His stomach reminded him that it needed attention. He glanced over at the office door. He could wait until Sherri arrived and then take her to lunch, so they could discuss what the doctor had said. Because her condition affected him as well as her.
She was his partner, and the job didn’t work without her. Maybe she’d phone and not come in after all. He turned to check on the captain in his personal office, but Phil didn’t seem to be doing anything except reviewing files and drinking coffee. She wouldn’t not call Cap, but if the news wasn’t great...
The office door opened and Sherri stepped forward. She looked... Angry? And maybe a little worried. He jumped up and got to her desk just as she slammed her purse down. She removed her handgun from the locked desk drawer and holstered it to her side. She winced a little, but apart from that looked the same. He watched her, waiting for her to say something. Ignoring him, she snatched the purse from the desktop and placed it in her drawer. She threw herself into the chair and looked up at him. “What?”
“I was going to ask how the appointment went, but I think I got my answer.”
Sherri pursed her lips and shook her head, the loose waves of her dark brown hair falling forward around her shoulders. She kept shaking her head and refused to talk until he put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “It’s going to change everything,” she whispered.
That was what he’d been worried about. “What’s next?”
“Double mastectomy. Chemo. Radiation. Reconstruction.” She put a hand to her forehead. “I don’t understand how all of this is possible. It doesn’t make sense. It’s as if I’m trapped in some kind of nightmare. It all feels so unreal. I’m fit and healthy. I take care of myself. I just don’t get it. What did I do wrong?”
Dez was desperate to reassure her. “I don’t think cancer discriminates. It can happen to anyone.”
“Well, it sucks.”
Dez could only nod as she stared into space, lost in her worries. He wasn’t sure what else he could do for her, but he was willing to do whatever she needed. He’d sit next to her at chemo appointments. He’d bring her food when she could eat and hold her hair when she couldn’t keep anything down. He only wished he could take the cancer from her. To protect her from the ravages that the treatment would inflict on her body. That was one thing he couldn’t do.
Sherri rose to her feet. “I gotta go tell Cap I’ll be out for six to eight weeks while I recuperate from the surgery.”
Dez shot backward, almost tripping over a chair. “Six weeks without you here? No. I could barely handle a few days. You can’t.”
“No choice.” She took a deep breath and released it, but didn’t move from her spot. She seemed to focus in on him, offering him her hand. “I don’t think I can do this alone, Dez. Will you come with me?”
Anything for her. “And I’m telling him that I’ll be in the waiting room the day of your surgery. And any other day you need me. I’ll be there for you, Sherri. I promise.” He followed her into the captain’s office. The click of the door shutting behind them sounded like the end of something.
* * *
WITH TWO WEEKS to go until her surgery, Sherri made a list of things she would need to accomplish before then. Cases to close. Medical supplies to purchase and store for when she’d need them.
She met with her surgeon a few days before the op, and VanGilder went over every question she and Mama could come up with, as well as a few from Dez. As she left the office with instructions for presurgery, she glimpsed Dr. Sprader sitting in the waiting room. She gave a small wave to the ER doctor. “Are you seeing Dr. VanGilder, too?”
April nodded. “He’s one of the best.” She put a hand on Sherri’s arm. “How are you handling all this?”
“You saw my chart?”
“No, but you’re walking out of a surgeon’s office with a list of pre-op instructions. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”
“Right.” She glanced at the paper and showed it to April. “It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?”
“As one who’s gone through it already, I can give you some tips if you’d like.”
Sherri nodded. “That would be great.”
April acknowledged the nurse who had just called her name. “I should be finished here in about twenty minutes.” She dug through her purse and found paper and pen, then wrote out an address. She thrust the note into Sherri’s hand. “If you don’t have plans tonight, we can meet for dinner. I’ll tell you everything I know.”
Sherri glanced down at the address and nodded. “Thanks.”
“Like I said, I’ve been where you are right now. Maybe I can make things easier for you.” April collected her things and followed the nurse out of the room.
Sherri drove to the address that April had written down and ordered an iced tea while she waited. She drummed her fingers on the wooden table and watched the entrance to the restaurant. She opened and shut the menu several times, not interested in food. She’d lost her appetite, which Mama warned her would hurt her recovery after surgery.
Maybe she could eat once the surgery was done. Because all she could think about now were knives and needles, and those took away any happy thought about enjoying a meal. She tried to ignore the images in her mind with a sip of her iced tea that the waitress had just brought over.
The door suddenly swung open and April bounced in, followed by another woman. Sherri waved them over. April pointed to the other woman. “This is Page. She’s going through breast cancer treatment, too, and I thought two heads might be better than one. The more information you have, the better you’ll feel.”
“I’m not sure. I don’t feel so great right now, to be honest.”
April placed a hand on top of Sherri’s. “I remember. But I promise that things will get better.”
Page shook her head and adjusted the scarf around what looked to be her bald head. “Don’t promise her things you can’t deliver, April.” Page glanced at Sherri. “April’s experience with this has been far different from mine. I think that’s why she invited me along. I didn’t have an easy time.”
April disagreed. “Hey, I didn’t, either.”
Page gave April a scolding look. “You breezed through it a lot more than I did.”
April frowned. “I wouldn’t say breezed. It wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.” She reached up and touched her short, curly hair. “But I am on the other side of it now. The better side. It’s not nearly as scary. I know it sounds like your life is hitting a dead end, Sherri, but think of it as more like a detour. Your life isn’t over, and Page and I are proof of that.”
The waitress returned to the table, and they ordered their meals. After she left, Sherri brought out a small book and pen. “I figured I’d take notes?”
April nodded. “You’ll want to write things down as much as you can. And if you can’t, have someone else do it. There’s a lot that’s going to be thrown at you, and you don’t want to miss anything.”
“And if you don’t understand something, ask. There’s no such thing as a stupid question.” Page used her straw to stir the lemon in her water. “I’ve been a nurse full-time for six years, but there are still things that I had to ask.”
April spoke up again. “You’ll be wearing tops that either button or zip up the front for the first couple of months. Nothing you have to pull over your head. Check your closet now and stock up if you need to.”
“And get a bra that opens in the front.” Page glanced at April. “That’s what she recommended, and it was some of her best advice.”
Sherri wrote every single thing down. She watched as the two women reminisced about chemo goody bags and pillows kept in their cars to protect the scars when wearing a seat belt. “I didn’t realize all this stuff.”
“And they’re things the doctors can’t tell you because most of them haven’t experienced it. They can explain all about the medical supplies you’ll need and things like that.” April took the pad of paper from Sherri and then wrote down several more things. “But someone who has lived through it has a different perspective.” She handed the book back to Sherri.
Sherri read what April had added, and smiled at the phone numbers she’d listed. “My ‘in case of emergency’ numbers?”
“You’re going to have some bad days, and that’s when you call one of us. We can talk you through it.” April slipped an arm around Page. “She helped me through mine. I helped her through hers. And now we’ll help you.”
“Why?”
“Consider us your boob squad.” At Sherri’s downturned lips, April shrugged. “We’ll come up with a better name. The price of membership stinks, but remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. And when you’re ready, you can stop in at the Hope Center. There’s a lot of great resources there for women like us.”
The waitress brought their salads, and conversation paused until she left the table. Page leaned in. “Have a spokesperson to give family and friends updates so you don’t have to repeat the same details over and over.”
April chimed in. “And let everyone who offers to help you have a chance to do something. Even if it’s bringing over a pizza, or doing a load of your laundry. This isn’t the time to be independent. That will come later.”
Sherri stabbed a tomato, then looked from one woman to the other. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
Page stared at her and swallowed. “Good. Because you’re picking up the tab.”
CHAPTER FOUR (#ua5685325-381b-585e-8b10-b00b57138d52)
SHERRI CHANGED INTO the soft green hospital gown and footies that the nurse gave her, then sat on the edge of the hospital bed. She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking and tried to swallow past the lump that had lodged in her throat. In just a matter of minutes, an orderly would wheel her to the operating room and her life would be turned upside down. Was she ready for that?
A knock at the door, and the nurse ushered Dez in. He kissed Sherri lightly on the cheek. “There she is.”
He looked hot in a baby blue T-shirt that stretched across his chest and was tucked into his worn denim jeans. She chastised herself. She shouldn’t be thinking like this when she was about to have surgery. She should be focused on herself. On her body. Instead, her traitorous mind pointed out how well Dez filled out that T-shirt. And those muscled arms. They both worked out regularly to stay in shape for the job, but he looked like he’d been putting in extra time with the weights. And surely those arms would hold her tight and keep her away from harm. She sighed, stowing those thoughts away. “Did you see my parents in the waiting room?”
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Syndi Powell
They’re in this fight togetherBorder Patrol agent Desmond Jackson would gladly take a bullet for his partner. Instead, it’s Detroit border patrol agent Sherri Lopez who ends up wounded in a drug raid…then blindsided by a shocking diagnosis.The woman Dez secretly loves is a warrior now in a fight for her life. Strong and independent, Sherri won’t let anything defeat her—or let herself rely on Dez. Doesn’t she realize how good they are together? All Dez knows is he can’t lose her…or the friendship that’s slowly evolving into something even more precious.
They’re in this fight together
Border patrol agent Desmond Jackson would gladly take a bullet for his partner. Instead, it’s Detroit border patrol agent Sherri Lopez who ends up wounded in a drug raid...then blindsided by a shocking diagnosis.
The woman Dez secretly loves is a warrior now in a fight for her life. Strong and independent, Sherri won’t let anything defeat her—or let herself rely on Dez. Doesn’t she realize how good they are together? All Dez knows is he can’t lose her...or the friendship that’s slowly evolving into something even more precious.
If he’d been here, she would have been okay.
He would have...what? Dez wasn’t a doctor. He was just a man who cared for her. Who would do anything to save her. But what could he do in this case? He took a seat in the chair beside Sherri’s hospital bed and leaned his elbows on his knees. His head in his hands, he closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath.
He stood and pressed his lips against her forehead. “You have to fight this, my fierce warrior. Fight this and come back to me healthy and well.” He kissed her again and listened to her soft breathing.
Sherri’s mom whispered, “You love her.” She said it as a statement, not a question.
Dez nodded and took Sherri’s hand in his. Pressed his lips to it and watched her sleep. “Always.”
Dear Reader (#ua5685325-381b-585e-8b10-b00b57138d52),
As a breast cancer survivor, I am so excited to bring you the Hope Center Stories about three women who are on their own journeys with cancer. They will face their fears and celebrate their victories together because that’s how we defeat this horrible disease: with the love and support of family, friends and medical staff. As long as we can hold on to each other, cancer cannot destroy us. It may damage and scar our bodies, but our faith and will to live will help carry us through.
Sherrita Lopez is about to start her own fight with breast cancer. For someone who prides herself so much on her independence, she is about to learn that the journey requires family and friends to support and love her through the difficult times. She also discovers that the friend who has always been by her side is the man she can’t live without.
For those who have defeated cancer, I would remind you that we need to continue to live as warriors and help those who are in the middle of their own journeys by sharing our stories and advice. Celebrate those scars because they are physical proof that we could not be defeated. For those who are in the middle of their own fight, I would encourage you to reach out to those around you for support because you’ll need that in those dark days and to celebrate in the small victories. Don’t give up! For those who have lost loved ones to cancer, I send my love and prayers.
Syndi
Afraid to Lose Her
Syndi Powell
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
SYNDI POWELL started writing stories when she was young and has made it a lifelong pursuit. She’s been reading Harlequin romance novels since she was in her teens and is thrilled to be on the Harlequin team. She loves to connect with readers on Twitter, @syndipowell (https://twitter.com/syndipowell), or on her Facebook author page, Facebook.com/syndipowellauthor (https://www.facebook.com/syndipowellauthor).
This book is dedicated to the doctors who saved my life: Dr. Christopher Frocillo, Dr. Stephen Cahill and Dr. Salman Fateh. Thank you for your care and support through one of the most difficult times of my life. Because of your tireless dedication to your patients, many of us are able to celebrate more birthdays and holidays. We owe you so much.
Contents
Cover (#ufbf6dfdc-619d-5256-95b6-6de5e5ad8f5d)
Back Cover Text (#ubaf53c81-b3d3-5215-9b1a-a4751a42301c)
Introduction (#ue700dd6d-363d-5032-afb6-252f4c2da383)
Dear Reader (#uf2f044ee-7182-5fe5-859f-eb5f17f97a18)
Title Page (#ubc7fda59-5a67-5adf-a483-07d014fe25bb)
About the Author (#ub86d4b3f-1ac7-5849-adae-9ed5fe4cfaf2)
Dedication (#u0c94d7ba-ac73-58b9-a57c-d9eda6654ceb)
CHAPTER ONE (#ua5c1eb71-5d70-55ab-ab60-0611be26b8ab)
CHAPTER TWO (#u64f96438-16e4-5062-883d-8db2535343e9)
CHAPTER THREE (#u870a69ff-e844-5257-99d6-c9a0cd537767)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u09ba712d-cdac-5cf0-bb74-ef9344f426f1)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ua5685325-381b-585e-8b10-b00b57138d52)
SHERRITA LOPEZ TOOK a sip of lukewarm coffee from the cardboard cup and glanced around the group of about a dozen federal agents that had gathered in a parking lot of the building that housed the Drug Enforcement Agency. They all looked similar in navy jackets with “DEA” or “ATF” written in gold on the back. They even seemed to have the same haircut. She pulled her long brown hair over one shoulder and wished she fit in better. Maybe she shouldn’t have worn her usual work outfit: navy suit jacket, white blouse and navy pants.
Her partner from Border Patrol had promised he’d meet her there, but she’d seen no sign of Desmond Jackson. A woman in a navy nylon jacket walked up to her and nodded at the cup of coffee. “That any good?”
Sherri shrugged. “It’s caffeine at least.” She looked the woman over. “You with the DEA?”
“I’m Darla.” The woman nodded and leaned against a parked van. “It’s amazing, you know. I don’t have many women in my office, but they put our agencies together and I automatically gravitate toward you. It’s nice to see a feminine face among all these hard masculine ones. Like calling to like, I guess.”
“It’s hard being one of the few. I understand that well enough.” She took another draw of her coffee. “Do you know what the scoop is with this raid? Details have been sketchy.”
“Gang bringing drugs over from Canada, which is why I guess they brought you Border Patrol agents in.” She glanced around. “I just wish we’d stop standing around and actually do something. But hurry up and wait seems to be the agenda for the day.”
“They’re probably waiting for someone. Or something.”
At that, she spotted the bald head of her tall partner moving through the other agents. He stood head and shoulders above most as he wound his way around toward her. His light brown skin bathed in the early sunlight. Sherri waved Dez over and glanced at her watch. He shrugged and passed her a cup of real coffee from their favorite diner. “Had to make a stop. I know you wouldn’t be able to handle the action without real coffee.”
She took the cup and smiled. “Bless you.”
He nodded at the female Drug Enforcement agent. “You hear anything about when we’re going in?”
Sherri shook her head. “Soon, I guess.”
The woman crossed her arms over her chest. “Like I said, it’s the agency policy. Hurry up and wait.” She held a hand out to Sherri. “Nice meeting you. How about after this we go out for lunch or something? I’d love to hear about your experience. Maybe compare notes.”
Sherri shook her hand. “I’d like that. Good luck out there.”
Darla nodded and walked away. Dez turned back to her. “New friend?”
“Maybe. She was happy to see another woman among all the testosterone.” She finished her first coffee and searched the lot for a garbage can and walked to it and tossed it in. Turning, she took a sip of the coffee that Dez had brought her and sighed. “I hate this waiting around. Just give us our orders and let’s do this thing.” She turned to her partner and eyed his jeans paired with a white button-down shirt. “A little casual for you.”
He looked down at his outfit. “It’s a raid on a Saturday, not dinner with the president. Listen. I told the guy in charge that we’d take point, if that’s okay with you.”
Absolutely it was. She had jumped at the chance to volunteer in order to coordinate efforts along with Dez. She wanted to be in the middle of it. To be responsible for taking down one of the gangs bringing drugs over. This was, after all, why she’d joined Border Patrol: to guard her country from outside harm. “Sounds good to me.”
One of the agents stood up in the bed of a truck and cupped his hands around his mouth to magnify the sound. Conversations stopped, and focus sharpened to the agent in charge. “Orders are being sent around now along with earpieces so we can communicate during the raid. Thank you to Agents Lopez and Jackson from Border Patrol, who will be taking point at the warehouse.” He gave a nod toward them. “We’ll be entering on my count. Intel says that they aren’t armed and have no idea we’re coming. I’d like to keep that element of surprise. Questions?”
A murmur rose, but there were no questions. A short guy wearing a bulletproof vest thrust earpieces and a receiver at them. “You’re in the van.”
Dez smirked as the man walked off, still handing out equipment. “He’s got the body armor on, but how much you want to bet that he won’t be entering the warehouse?”
Sherri adjusted the stiff vest she wore herself. She might be brave, but she wasn’t stupid. As much as Dez sneered, he wore one, too. Department-issue bulletproof vest that could take a few shots, depending on the ammunition. Not that it would completely protect them if things went sideways. She glanced around the parking lot and saw several agents getting into the van. “You ready for this?”
Dez gave a short nod. “I’ve been waiting since six this morning to see some action.”
“And you chose to leave the military why?”
“There’s a difference, and you well know it.” He steered her toward the van and let her get in first before following her inside. “Doesn’t mean I don’t miss it at times.”
The drive to the riverside warehouse took about ten minutes, and they parked the vehicles in the parking lot next door to their target. Without a word, Sherri walked to the warehouse, gun in hand, scanning the docks and surrounding areas for any gang members. Empty. She reached the door that was the point of entry for the raid and stood against the wall, waiting for the signal to enter. Dez squatted behind her and leaned in close enough that she could feel his breath on her ear. “Call me crazy, but I got a bad feeling about this.”
She turned and watched as one of the DEA agents counted down from five with his fingers. After he held up one finger, he waved Sherri and Dez to enter the warehouse. Sherri kicked at the door and shouted, “Federal agents! Get down! Get down!”
Chaos erupted in the warehouse. Tables overturned; guns were drawn. The noise level rose as more agents screamed out orders, and the drug dealers shouted back. Sherri wasn’t certain who fired their guns first, but a barrage of bullets started to fill the air in their direction. She crouched down behind a wooden pallet and looked over at Dez, who shook his head. He pointed to his chest then to the right. Then to her and the floor.
There was no way she was going to sit still while the action happened around her. She shook her head, pointed to her chest and then to the right. Dez rolled his eyes and nodded. He pointed to himself then to her, meaning he’d follow her.
Sherri crawled to the right then stopped as she saw two shoes on the other side of the table she crouched behind. She wasn’t sure if they belonged to someone on their team or to one of the drug runners, but she wasn’t going to wait to find out. She pointed them out to Dez then held up her gun. She stood and held her gun out in front of her. “Federal agent. Put your hands up!”
The guy turned to face her, shooting his gun in her direction as he did so. It felt like everything was in slow motion after that. She fired her weapon twice as she fell to the floor, knocked over by the weight of Dez. She felt the back of her head smack on the concrete floor, and she moaned.
Dez looked down at her, his body lying on top of hers. “Are you okay? Did he get you?”
She squirmed under the weight of him. The sensation of his body against hers felt odd, yet familiar and intimate in the middle of a gunfight. She tucked that thought away to analyze later. “Why did you knock me down? I had him.”
“More like he had you.” Dez poked his head up then frowned down at her. “Stay down or you’ll get us both killed.”
She rolled to her belly and used her arms to push herself off the floor. “Intelligence said four or five guys and no weapons. What happened?”
“So much for the intel.” He pulled her closer to his side. Bullets still flew in the air around them. He aimed his weapon at one of the drug dealers who provided suppressive fire to cover their retreat. Dez fired his gun and hit the man in the shoulder, then turned to aim at another one who shot at the DEA agents by the front door. One shot, and the man went down, too. Sherri knew Dez was a good shot. He’d been known for it in the Marine Corps, but she’d never seen it firsthand. Impressive.
“Do you plan on taking them all down one by one?”
He glanced back at her. “Right now my goal is to get us all out alive. Forget trying to subdue twenty men with a team of half that.”
Sherri nodded and took in their surroundings. Two DEA agents held down one of the drug runners, but there were at least a dozen more of the bad guys by one of the exits with guns blazing. She did a perimeter check and noticed a door on the far right side of the warehouse. Probably led to an office, but it could be a means of getting out. Or there could be more of these drug runners hiding out and waiting for their time to take them all down. She pointed it out to Dez, who gave a short nod. “Go. I’ll back you up.”
She took a deep breath then got to her feet and ran for the office door. A man to her left turned his gun on her, and she shot him before he got the chance to put his finger on the trigger. He gave a cry and fell to the floor. She kept running, the office door ten feet away. Five. Two. One.
She tried the door handle. Locked. She hit her fist on the door then turned and shook her head at Dez. They needed to get in that room. Just like they needed to call for more backup. No one was going to get out alive if they didn’t get more firepower on their side. They were outmanned and definitely outgunned.
Dez came up alongside her then pushed her away from the door. He gave the handle a kick. Nothing. Another kick, and another. On the fourth, it gave way and the door opened. Empty. Sherri entered and secured the area then nodded to Dez. He stayed in the doorway and watched for any intruders on their temporary hideout.
Sherri pressed her earpiece, trying to make sense out of the shouting and garbled nonsense. “Something’s blocking our communications. You know what that means.”
“No one’s coming.” Dez grimaced and muttered a curse word under his breath. He glanced around the office and pointed to an old rotary phone. “See if that works.”
She picked up the phone and checked for a dial tone. She gave a short nod and dialed 911. After giving the address and a brief summary of events to the operator, she could feel her heart starting to slow down to a normal beat. She thanked the dispatcher and hung up the phone. “They already sent backup. Someone must have gotten word out before we lost communication.”
“Good.” Dez kept his gaze out on the warehouse floor, where movement seemed to have ceased. So had the gunfire. “Sounds like they’ve given up. Or left.”
“Or they’re pausing to reload.”
Dez turned back, a grin splitting his face. “Always the optimist.”
The sound of sirens in the background sent a wave of relief through Sherri. The cavalry was here to save them. She joined Dez at the doorway, gun ready just in case. “We should see who’s hurt.”
“Feels like Fallujah all over again. I left the Corps to get away from this. That’s what I don’t miss about the military.” He led the way back to the warehouse floor and bent down to check on a fallen woman, one of the DEA agents. He shook his head at Sherri.
She bit her lip as she leaned down and closed the woman’s eyes. It was the one she’d just been joking with about being a female in a predominantly male office. They had laughed about it only an hour ago, and now she was dead and Sherri couldn’t even remember the woman’s name. And that seemed to hurt more.
She straightened and felt a little woozy. She shook her head, trying to clear it, and followed Dez to where more bodies lay on the floor. He took the right side of the room while she took the left. Two dead agents and five drug runners. Plus another agent and seven more bad guys wounded.
The warehouse doors opened, and four uniformed police officers swarmed inside. Dez and Sherri holstered their weapons and held up their IDs. “Border Patrol.”
One of the officers approached them and nodded. He surveyed the room. “What happened in here?”
Dez put his ID back into the pocket of his jeans. “Drug raid gone bad. I assume we have some ambulances on their way here, too.”
The officer nodded. “Call came in about gunshots fired. Protocol says we get an ambo just in case.” He looked Dez and Sherri up and down. “You two hurt?”
Sherri shook her head, which seemed to be buzzing. Probably the adrenaline. “We were the lucky ones.”
The officer frowned and glanced at Sherri’s side. “Are you sure about that?”
Sherri looked at her right side and gasped. A bullet had shredded the body armor, and a dark red stain seeped through her white blouse underneath. She put her hand over the area and found it wet. She looked over at Dez. “Did I get shot?”
Dez removed her bulletproof vest and whistled. “I’d say so, Ace.” He put his arm around her. “I think we need to find a paramedic.”
Sherri nodded, but it felt as if it wasn’t her head that moved. Just as it wasn’t her body that had been pierced by a bullet. She felt nothing. Shouldn’t she feel something? She opened her mouth to say something to Dez, but blackness enveloped her.
* * *
BEFORE SHERRI COULD hit the floor, Dez scooped her up in his arms as easily as if she was a rag doll. He pushed past the officer and walked out the door of the warehouse. Too much like Fallujah. An ambulance with lights flashing waited outside in the parking lot of the warehouse. “I’ve got an agent down here.”
A paramedic rushed to him with her medical bag. “How long has she been unconscious?”
“Not even a minute.” He kneeled so that he could lay Sherri on the pavement. This was all his fault. He’d jumped at the chance to be a part of the raid and had dragged her along with him. Not that she’d protested. He had a suspicion she would have volunteered them if he hadn’t first. But this was his fault. He muffled a curse word. “She didn’t know she was shot.”
The paramedic used scissors to cut the blouse up the side and exposed Sherri’s injury. Dez knew he should probably look away, but the angry red wound drew his gaze like a moth to flame. He winced. “Is it bad?”
The paramedic shifted Sherri’s body, examining it, and shook her head. “Looks like it went through but we’ll take her to the hospital to be sure. She’s losing a lot of blood, though.” She glanced at him. “Do you know what blood type she is, by chance?”
He shook his head. He knew enough about Sherri since they’d been partners for the last four years. He knew how she liked her coffee, what she’d wear to work and how she wrinkled her nose when she laughed, but he didn’t know that important detail. “Sorry.”
“They’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” The paramedic glanced behind her at her partner. “Mark, get the stretcher. We’re taking her in.”
Dez grasped Sherri’s hand, which lay slack in his. “I’m going with you.”
The paramedic glanced at him then gave a short nod. “You sure they don’t need you here anymore?”
“They’ll know where to find me. She needs me more.” Because there was no way he was going to leave Sherri’s side now. He let go of her hand as the paramedics strapped Sherri onto the board then carried her to the ambulance. He ran behind them and jumped into the back, crouched next to Sherri as the driver slammed the doors shut, and then they were off in a flurry of lights and sirens.
Dez pushed Sherri’s long hair out of her face. “She has to be okay.”
“Is there anyone you can call? Her family?”
He nodded and removed his cell phone from the interior pocket of his jacket. He had her mom’s number programmed in case of emergency, and there was no bigger emergency than this. He scanned through the names on his contact list then pressed Perla’s name.
A hand reached out and touched his arm. He looked up to find Sherri watching him and shaking her head. “Don’t call her.”
“You’re hurt. She needs to know.”
“I don’t want her to worry.” She shifted on the board and winced. “I’ll call her later.”
“Sorry, Ace, but this is out of your hands.” He pressed the name and waited while the phone rang despite Sherri’s protests. When her mom answered the other end, he gave her brief details about what had happened. “They’re taking us to...”
He glanced at the paramedic who was putting an IV into Sherri’s vein. “Detroit General.” He repeated the information to Sherri’s mom.
“How is she?” Perla asked.
Dez looked over at Sherri, who glared at him. If she didn’t have one arm being poked with a needle, he was sure she’d be giving him the finger. “I think she’s going to be just fine.”
“Tell her I love her, and we’ll be right there.”
Dez hung up and gave Sherri the message. She groaned. “Just what I don’t need. The waiting room filled with my family.” She winced as the paramedic packed more gauze around the bleeding wound. “My mom’s going to kill me. I promised her the job was a safe one.”
“It should have been. Someone tipped them off.” He put a hand on Sherri’s foot. “Just don’t die on me. I don’t want to have to get used to a new partner.”
“Ha-ha.” But she didn’t look like she was amused. Instead, her eyes were clouded with pain that also left tight lines around her mouth.
“They’ll take care of you, and you’ll be back at work in no time.” He said it mostly because he hoped it was true. He couldn’t imagine having to work without her. Couldn’t imagine living without seeing her most days. He pressed the center of his chest where there seemed to be a hot object being pushed into his skin.
The ambulance pulled into the hospital parking lot, and then the back doors were opened and people were running out to meet them. Dez stepped back as they removed Sherri from the ambulance and transferred her onto a wheeled gurney. He followed the short ER doctor as she yelled out orders to her team. “Take her to Trauma Two. And I want O neg pumped into her ASAP.” She glanced up at Dez. “Anything I need to know about my patient?”
“She’s a warrior. Don’t let her die.”
The doc gave a curt nod then ran into the ER. Dez watched her go and then dropped his head. He could stop being strong for a moment.
* * *
SHERRI WATCHED AS a team of nurses and interns buzzed around her, asking questions, removing bloody gauze, hooking her up to an IV bag, probing the wound. That last one made her sit up and shout. “Are you trying to kill me?”
The ER doctor entered the room and moved people away so that she could see the wound. Sherri looked down at the blood and swallowed back the acidic taste in her mouth. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, willing herself not to pass out despite the ringing in her ears. “Is it bad?”
“I’ve seen worse.” The doctor irrigated the wound with saline from a syringe then felt around the area with her fingertips. “Good news is that the bullet passed through, so I think you just need a few dozen stitches. My concern is the loss of blood.” She probed an area above the wound and frowned. Spread her fingers out farther. “How long have you noticed this lump here, Ms. Lopez?”
Sherri looked down where the doctor had her fingers and shook her head. “I never noticed.”
“Probably nothing.” She turned to a nurse, giving out orders. “I’m going to suture the wound. And go check on where that blood is.”
Sherri bit her lip as the doctor skillfully sewed the wound together on the front. She couldn’t watch and kept her gaze on the blinds that covered the windows that looked out into the ER. “Dr. Sprader, am I going to be able to go back to work?”
The doctor didn’t look up at her, but continued to place tiny stitches to bind her skin over the hole. “My guess is that a small thing like a bullet hole won’t keep you down.” She looked up at Sherri. “At least not for long. Now let’s suture where the bullet came out.”
Sherri turned on her side so the doctor could find the wound on her back. She winced as she felt fingertips trace the area. “My partner...”
“He’s in the waiting room, pacing. Don’t worry. I’ll give him an update once I’m finished here.” Dr. Sprader fell silent for a moment, the noise of the ER outside the room the only sounds. She sighed as she sutured the wound. “So how did you get a bullet in you?”
“Ambush during a drug raid.” Sherri sucked in air as the wound burned.
“I’ll be sure to get you some painkillers as well as antibiotics for you to take home.” The doctor placed a large square of white gauze over the wound and taped it into place. “I’m also going to ask that you take it easy for a few days so that you don’t rip out my handiwork too soon.”
Dr. Sprader helped Sherri shift again onto her back and taped gauze over the front wound. She frowned again. “Do you mind if I check something out? I don’t think it’s related to your injury, but it concerns me.”
Sherri nodded and watched as the doctor probed the area above the gauze on the underside of her breast. Dr. Sprader obviously didn’t like what she found because she told the nurse beside her to call the radiology department to get them in for a consult. Sherri frowned. “Radiology?”
“There’s a lump on the underside of your breast that I don’t like.” Dr. Sprader guided Sherri’s fingers to the spot about the size of a half pea but hard rather than mushy. “You haven’t noticed that?”
Sherri shook her head. “What do you think it is?”
“More than eighty percent of lumps are nothing, but I don’t want to play around.” She removed her bright pink skullcap to reveal short, spiky, dark blond hair no longer than an inch. “I’ve just finished my own fight with breast cancer, so I know how important it is to get answers early.”
What? Cancer? Sherri tried to find words to say but couldn’t seem to find any. Instead, she shook her head until the doctor put a hand on hers. “Like I said. Most turn out to be nothing, a cyst. But I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“Okay.”
A nurse poked her head into the room. “Ron says he can take her in about an hour. And she’s got an army wanting to see her out in the waiting room.”
Sherri closed her eyes and took another deep breath. “Mama.”
“I can go get her so that she can accompany you up to radiology if you’d like.”
Sherri shook her head. As comforting as the thought was of having Mama next to her while they ran tests, she had to be strong and do this on her own. “No. I don’t want her to know anything yet. But I do want to see her before.” She paused. “And Dez.”
Dr. Sprader nodded. “I’ll send her back. And she’ll only know what you want to tell her.”
The doctor left, and Sherri collapsed back onto the gurney. Chances are the lump Dr. Sprader had found was nothing. But what if it wasn’t?
* * *
THE ER DOCTOR entered the waiting room and scanned faces until she found his. She gave a soft smile and approached where he stood among the many members of the Lopez family. “She’s asking to see you and her mother.”
Dez reached around and brought Perla Lopez forward. The woman grasped the doctor’s hand. “How is she?”
“She’s going to be fine, Mrs. Lopez. If you follow me, I’ll take you back to see her.”
Dez frowned at this. “When will she be ready to go home?”
“There’s some tests I’d like to run first before we release her.” She wound around the various beds and rooms before taking them back to a trauma area. She opened the door and led them both inside then quietly left.
Sherri lay on the gurney, her left arm over her eyes, which she dropped to her side and held out to her mother. “I’m going to be fine, Mama.”
Perla rushed to her left side and pulled her into an embrace, tears streaming from her eyes. “Desmond said that you were okay, but I needed to see it with my own eyes.”
“It’s okay.” Sherri winced but didn’t let go of her mother. “I’m okay.”
Dez touched her foot still in a black boot. “They let you keep the bullet as a souvenir?”
Her eyes rose to his, and she shook her head. “No bullet. Passed right through. Just like the paramedic said.”
“She said that when you were unconscious.”
Sherri shrugged. “I heard her say it, though. I’ll have to take it easy, but other than that I’m good to go. What we need to do is figure out who tipped off our drug runners that we were coming.”
“There’s time for that later. The important part is for you to get better. How are you going to pitch your killer curveball this summer if you pull out your stitches?” He felt better talking about the coed softball team they cocaptained rather than the chance he could have lost her earlier. Easier to joke around than admit that he’d almost choked on his fear. He needed her more than he had realized, wanted her in a way he hadn’t known before. Pushing that thought aside, he leaned against one wall, his hands behind his back to avoid doing something stupid like touching her to make sure she was okay. “We’re not going to lose out to the Detroit Cop Union again. You need to be in fighting shape.”
She paled but nodded. “I will be.”
“Good.”
Perla pressed a kiss to Sherri’s forehead. “Your father, he’s been pacing the waiting room. Can I send him back?” When Sherri nodded, Perla looked up to Dez. “Would you mind going to get him?”
“Actually, Mama, I need to talk to Dez alone for a moment. Work stuff. Do you mind?”
Perla kissed Sherri again then left the room. Dez raised an eyebrow at Sherri. “You want to talk work stuff?”
“No. The doctor found something, and I don’t want Mama to know. Not yet.” She touched her chest above the white gauze that covered her wound. “A lump.”
Dez took a step forward and grasped the bed rail to keep from falling. What was she saying? “What kind of lump?”
“She doesn’t know, so that’s why she’s running more tests. Dez, I’m...” She broke off and reached out to touch his hand. “What if it’s cancer?”
He clasped her hand in his. “What if it’s not?”
She swallowed, and she looked so pale. As if the blood had drained from her face and out her wound. He noticed the IV that pumped blood into her, so that couldn’t be it. She brought her eyes up to his. “But what if it is? It’ll change everything.”
“Then we’ll deal with it if it is.” He squeezed her hand. “But chances are it’s not. What did the doctor think?”
“Better safe than sorry. And she did say the chances are small.”
He gave her a smile, hoping it showed her that he was more confident than he felt. “There you go. Stop worrying about the worst-case scenario and focus on the greater possibility that it’s nothing.”
Sherri let out a breath through her nose, and her nostrils flared. “Before we went into that warehouse, you remember what you said? Well, I got a bad feeling about this.”
* * *
THE HOUR UNTIL she could get into her mammogram turned into two. She sent her family home with promises to call when she was released. She’d even said goodbye to Dez, who watched her with a dark emotion shining from his chocolate-brown eyes. She hated to have dumped her thoughts on him, but that was what they did. They shared everything, and this was just one more thing to add to the pile.
She’d been changed into a light pink smock that tied in the front. She could lift her right shoulder a little, but the pain from her side limited her motion. The ER doctor quickly assisted her. Sherri looked at her. “You don’t have to stay with me, you know. Your job ended once I was cleaned and sutured.”
Dr. Sprader didn’t look at her but fastened the ties around Sherri’s side to keep the smock in place. “I know, but I remember this. Waiting for tests, and then results. And all the time wondering what did I do to deserve it?” She lifted her blue-gray eyes to meet Sherri’s. “I don’t want you to go through it alone like I did, Ms. Lopez. Besides, I’m off duty and can do what I want.”
“I’ll be fine. And it’s Sherri.”
Dr. Sprader took a deep breath. “I’m April.”
They walked out of the dressing room and into the waiting area that was painted and carpeted in various shades of pink. April gestured Sherri to a chair and grabbed a magazine. “They’re running behind so we could be waiting for a while.”
Sherri took the magazine and flipped through it, not able to focus on the images or words. Instead, her mind buzzed with possible outcomes. Finally, she dropped the magazine back onto the table and glanced around. Another woman in a similar pink smock gave her a tremulous smile, which Sherri tried to return, but found it too much of an effort. “When were you diagnosed?”
April looked up from her own magazine. “About a year ago. I was lucky since they found it early. But I have friends who weren’t so fortunate.”
“What happens next?”
“After the mammogram, a doctor will analyze the images then maybe nothing. I’ll take you back to the ER, and you can go home.” April touched her hand as if to reassure her this would be the result.
But Sherri was a realist, if nothing else. She could focus on what she hoped would be the outcome, but she needed to know all the facts. “And if it’s not nothing?”
“An ultrasound, and maybe a biopsy. It’ll be over before you know it.”
Biopsy meant more needles. Sherri gave a small shudder. “And then?”
“Let’s wait and see before we jump to any conclusions.”
The radiology doctor must not have liked Sherri’s images because she had the ultrasound and a biopsy and left the hospital with a promise that she would receive a call with results within the next few days. She called Mama to ask if one of her brothers could come pick her up and take her home.
But it was Dez who arrived in his slick dark blue sports car. He saw her standing at the entrance and got out of the car and ran to the passenger side to let her in. “What did they say?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He didn’t say a word, didn’t ask anything, as she buckled herself into the car and waited for him to get in and drive her home. But he reached out and held her hand the entire way home.
CHAPTER TWO (#ua5685325-381b-585e-8b10-b00b57138d52)
SHERRI KNOCKED ON Captain White’s office door and entered it when he called out her name. She handed him the typed report regarding the botched drug raid, and he started to skim it with interest. She took a seat and winced as she hit her side with the armrest. Captain White looked up at her. “You’re sure you’re fit to return to work?”
She’d already gotten the all clear from HR, but she nodded at her superior. “Yes, sir. It was just a twinge.”
He nodded and returned to reading her report. When he finished, he looked her over. “You think they got a tip?”
“They knew we were coming, sir. Why all the firepower when previous intelligence indicated little, or none?” She shook her head. “Agent Jackson agrees with my assessment.”
“Yes, he does.” The captain put her report on top of Dez’s and crossed his arms. “How are you really doing? If you need some time to recuperate from your injury...”
“I told you I’m fine. Sore, but nothing I can’t handle.” Her cell phone strapped to her belt buzzed. She saw the number and frowned. “Sorry, Captain, I need to take this. It’s the hospital.” She stepped out of his office and answered her phone. “Lopez here.”
“Ms. Lopez, I’m Dr. VanGilder from Detroit General. I received your biopsy results, and I was hoping you could set up an appointment to come in and discuss them.”
She plopped down on the edge of a nearby desk, her legs suddenly losing the ability to stay standing and upright. “So it’s bad news.”
There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “I’d really like to discuss this in person. Does tomorrow afternoon at four work for you?”
No. More like never worked for her. She didn’t want to meet and discuss anything with this doctor. She wanted to be given a pat on the head, told she was fine then sent back into the world, whole and healthy. “Why not next week?”
“I’d rather not wait on this, Ms. Lopez.”
That couldn’t be good. “Then I’ll make tomorrow afternoon work.” She hung up her phone and looked up to see Dez watching her. She shook her head and pushed herself off the desk. Walked into the ladies’ room and leaned over the sink, peering into the mirror above it. Did she look sick? Could she see the cancer that had been hiding in her body? Her eyes burned, and she closed them. Took a few deep breaths then left the restroom.
Dez waited for her in the hallway. “Bad news?”
He always knew without her telling him. Was he psychic or something? He had told her before it was more like her thoughts telegraphed onto her face, and he knew how to interpret its messages. “The doctor is going to go over the test results with me tomorrow.”
Dez ducked his head and stared at the floor. He muttered a curse under his breath. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“No offense, Dez, but it’s not something I want a guy to overhear about me.” She shook her head. “No, it’s time that I told my mom. I should take her.”
He looked up at her and put a hand on her shoulder. “If you change your mind, you know I’m here.”
She was tempted to step into his arms and have him hold her until she could feel close to normal again, but didn’t want to cross that line yet. She might need him later. Instead, she stepped away from Dez and walked down the hall to call her mom. “I’ll be coming over tonight after work, if that’s okay.”
“You never have to ask for permission.” Her mom paused on the other end. “I tell you what. I make your favorite enchiladas for dinner.”
“You really don’t need to. I wanted to see you and Dad.” But she knew that telling her mom not to cook was like asking the ocean not to wave. “Thanks, Mama.”
“Anytime, mija.”
Sherri hung up the phone and walked back to her desk. Took a seat and stared at her computer monitor. She should do some work. Keep herself distracted from the thoughts in her head that threatened to pull her down into a dark place. One that she feared would spread its cold fingers around her throat and choke her.
But work had little appeal, and she ended up staring at the screen and watching the clock until she could justify leaving. She waved to Dez and left the office before he could send her any more looks of pity.
Traffic from the office to the old neighborhood distracted her enough from thinking, and she soon pulled up to her parents’ house and parked on the street. She sat in the driver’s seat and looked up at the home she’d lived in since she was six. Thirty years later, her parents still stayed despite offers from her and her brothers to help them move into a condo or a smaller house that wouldn’t require as much upkeep. They turned them down, assuring them that they weren’t that old yet. Sherri doubted that they’d ever admit when things became too much.
A rap on the passenger-side window startled her. She pressed the button for it to lower and her baby brother Hugo stuck his head inside. “Mom wants to know if you’re coming in or if you plan on eating your dinner out here.”
Sarcasm from her little brother? It must be a normal day in the Lopez household. “Ha-ha. I’ll be right in.”
Hugo peered at her, frowning. “You okay?”
She nodded and got out on the driver’s side. She looked at him over the roof of her car. “Yep. How’s college?”
“Don’t remind me right now. Final exams next week. I’ve been studying so much, this is the first time I’ve been outdoors in the last three days.”
“And graduation a week after that, don’t forget.” She walked around and put her left arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. “We’re so proud of you. Our baby is finally growing up.”
She ruffled his hair, and he pushed her away. “Knock it off.” He ran the rest of the short walk up to the house and opened the front door. “She’s finally here. Can we eat now? I’m starving.”
Mama walked into the living room and waved with her spatula to Sherri as she entered the house. “Hi, mija. Can you see if Abuela is ready for dinner? She’s watching her stories in her bedroom.”
“Sure.” Sherri walked down the hallway to the room that had once belonged to her until she’d moved out at eighteen and joined the army. She knocked softly on the door then opened it. “Abuela, dinner is ready.”
“Mi joya, you’re home.” Abuela groaned as she pushed off her rocking chair and approached her. She pulled Sherri’s face down to her level and gave her a loud, smacking kiss. “Tu madre tells me you got shot.”
“It was nothing.” She held up her right arm and showed off the padding under the blouse she wore. “I’ll be healed in no time.”
Abuela nodded then put her arm through Sherri’s. “If you say it is true, it is. Now tell me more about your young man.”
Sherri wanted to roll her eyes. Her grandmother never gave up on this idea that she should be married. “I don’t have one, Abuela, and you know that. I’m free as a bird.”
“Even birds make nests with their mates.”
They slowly walked down the hall and into the living room, where Sherri’s father stared at the television screen. He muttered a curse in Spanish at the baseball players then looked up at Sherri. “Those Tigers are going to put me in an early grave.”
Sherri laughed and kissed her father on his cheek. “They lose just to annoy you.”
“Bah.” He flipped the television off with the remote. “Let’s go to the table before your madre chases at me with her spatula.”
Dinner seemed quieter than their usual family dinners, but without her other two brothers and their families, less than half were present. Or maybe it was because Sherri stayed silent, lost in her thoughts. She looked up several times from her dinner plate to find Mama watching her, and she smiled as if to tell her that everything was okay.
After dinner Sherri volunteered to wash the dishes with Mama. Thirty years, and they still hadn’t bought a dishwasher. Maybe she’d buy it as a Christmas gift and save her hands from early wrinkles. She thrust her hands into the sudsy water and pulled out a plate then swiped it with a cloth before handing it to Mama.
“Something on your mind, mija? I figured you wanted to talk to me when you volunteered to wash dishes.”
Sherri nodded and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Now that she was ready to tell her mother what was going on, the words got stuck and wouldn’t come out. She took a deep breath and washed a glass, wiping it several times before she could turn and face her mother. “Would you come with me to the doctor tomorrow?”
Mama put the plate in the cupboard. “Of course. Are you sick?”
“I don’t know.” She dropped her head and let it hang while she tried to say words without turning them into sobs. “They found a lump, and they tested it, and now this doctor wants to tell me the news in person.” She raised her eyes to her mother’s tearful ones. “I’m scared, Mama. What if he says it’s cancer? What am I gonna do?”
Mama opened her arms, and Sherri fell into them. She rubbed her back in slow circles as Sherri held on tight. “It’ll be okay, mija. No matter what it is, you’ll be fine.”
Somehow with her mother saying it, Sherri felt slightly better. Maybe it would be okay.
* * *
DEZ PLACED THE cardboard cup of coffee from the diner down the street in front of Sherri, who kept her gaze on her computer monitor. “You look like hell.”
She glanced up at him then snatched the coffee. “Thanks. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I used my time to look at the drug raid from several angles.” She turned the screen so that he could see her notes. She pointed to a list. “These are the people who knew the details about the raid. One of them had to spill the beans to someone in the drug ring.”
He noted she’d put their names on the list. “Well, you can scratch us off since I know we didn’t tell anyone. Not even the captain knew the details about the raid until after it was over.”
“I’m trying to be thorough, so our names stay.” She took a long draw from the cup of coffee and sighed. “We’re missing something. I know it, but I can’t figure out what.”
“You’re sure this list is inclusive? What about the DEA’s informant? Where did they get their intel from?” He sipped from his own coffee and took a seat on the edge of Sherri’s desk. “How do we know that their source was reliable?”
“The DEA isn’t talking right now, so we’re in the dark.” She shook her head. “They lost agents in that raid, so they’re holding their cards close to their chests.” She pressed Save on the computer and pushed away from her desk. “Something doesn’t seem right about this whole thing.”
“You’re thinking a mole?”
“I don’t know yet for sure, but it does seem like someone wanted them to know we were coming. If we had kept our planned time, they probably wouldn’t have been there. But then the lead agent bumped up our arrival and...”
“And they had to shoot their way out.” He noticed the dark smudges under her eyes, and something inside him reared its head. He wanted desperately to protect her from whatever this was. To keep her safe. “What time is your doctor appointment?”
“Four. I came in early to make up my shorter day. I told Mama I’d pick her up at three thirty.”
She looked so small, so scared. He’d never seen her like this. She was so confident, so assured. But this same woman seemed to have shrunken into herself. He put a hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything...”
Sherri stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t do that.”
He looked down at himself and held his arms out. What in the world was she talking about? “I’m just offering my support.”
“I’m not sick or dying.” But the look on her face told a different story.
“Didn’t say you were.” He noticed that her eyes filled with tears, and he muttered a soft curse before pulling her in his arms. “Don’t tell me this isn’t appropriate, but you look like you could use a hug.”
She pushed him away. “That’s what I’m talking about. Don’t hug me or tell me it’s going to be okay. I need you to act normal. Got it?”
He sure did. His warrior was scared to death about this doctor’s appointment and what it could mean for her future. Their future. A bullet had come close to taking her away from him, and now cancer could be threatening to do the same? He swallowed at the acid at the back of his throat. He couldn’t lose her. His life didn’t make sense without her. He nodded. “Normal. I can do that.”
“Good.” She picked up her coffee and looked around the office where agents started to trickle in. “Now find us a case or something to occupy our time until I have to leave.”
“I’ve got just the thing.” He pulled a file from his desk next to hers and plopped it down. “Fake IDs and passports confiscated at the Detroit-Windsor border. Want to find who’s making them?”
Sherri grinned, and Dez felt like he’d gotten his partner back from her inner turmoil.
“You really know how to make this girl’s day,” she said.
* * *
SHERRI GLANCED AT the swarthy guy who sat in the chair across the table from her, then looked down at the file in front of her. She stood and started to pace around the interrogation room while Dez casually leaned against one wall.
He’d agreed that she’d take lead in the questioning, so she slammed a fist on the file. The guy rolled his eyes at her, which just ticked her off even more. “This is a serious matter, Giroux. You’re selling fake passports and IDs, which is a felony. But then you’re selling them to people on the Department of Homeland Security’s watch list? Now we’re talking treason.” She leaned over the table. “Much more serious.”
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 (#ua5685325-381b-585e-8b10-b00b57138d52)
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?”
“I’m recuperating, not dead.” She could talk without hurting something. “What about the tests run on the drugs we found on scene?”
Dez leaned closer to her and dropped the volume of his voice. “Consistent with what we found before. It’s the same kind of dope, so the same dealers.”
Sherri went and stood at the large bay window, scanning the front yard. “It’s coming in right under our noses,” she said. She turned back to Dez. “And they’re getting help from one of us.”
He frowned at this. “Someone with Border Patrol?”
She’d bet money that it wasn’t one of their team specifically, but she couldn’t rule it out. Good people did dumb things all the time. “Uh-huh. I’d stake my reputation and job on it. What’s your gut telling you?”
“That we still have more questions than answers. And I don’t want to make any assumptions that could cost us or set our investigation back.”
She sighed. “Something else has been bothering me for the last few days. Giroux said that he knew who had been present at the raid as well as who wasn’t. What if our inside guy didn’t show up that day? Was there anyone expected to have been there who wasn’t?”
Dez pulled out a small notebook and pen and made a note. “That’s good. Maybe our mole wanted to be out of the way of flying bullets and passed on being there. I’ll look into it.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “When are you coming back to work? I’d rather we did this together.”
That was the big question. She was ready for the job, tender muscles or no. She needed to be on this case, on her other cases. What she didn’t need was to be sitting and doing nothing except thinking about what could be happening in her body. She craved the routine of waking up every morning and driving to the office. And part of her feared that Dr. VanGilder would find something that would take that away. That normalcy. “Tuesday afternoon I have my appointment with VanGilder. I’ll have some answers after that, at least.”
“Good. The office isn’t the same without you.”
She shook her head but smiled at this. “I’ve only missed a couple of days.”
Dez grinned and she was struck by how it made him appear so appealing. Attractive. Handsome even. A dimple winked at her from one of his cheeks. “One day too many,” he said.
Pushing those thoughts aside—this was her partner and friend Dez after all—Sherri told him genuinely, “Thanks for coming over.”
Dez glanced around the living room and held up his hands. “Trying to get rid of me already? Your mom promised to feed me.”
Of course she did. Because that was what her mother did, stuffed everyone with food who came through the front door. Sherri wanted, no, needed, time and space to examine how confused she felt about Dez. And she’d have a clearer picture if the man himself wasn’t standing in front of her looking so good.
She brought a hand up to her hair and wished she’d at least washed it in the sink. Not that her appearance had mattered when it came to Dez. Despite Mama’s assertions, she knew he thought of her only in terms of friendship and work.
* * *
TUESDAY’S APPOINTMENT WITH Dr. VanGilder gave Sherri stomach cramps the more she thought about it. She dressed as if she was going to work. A cream blouse, navy jacket and pants. She tried to think of herself as putting on her armor to face whatever dragon still lay before her. If she acted like this was a typical day, then maybe that was how it would turn out.
She drove to her parents’ neighborhood to pick up Mama, who had agreed to take notes while the doctor went over all the test results and made his recommendation for treatment. She pulled her car to the curb and took the tray of coffees with her to the front door. Her father answered and exclaimed when she thrust a bakery bag into his hand. “Thought you could use something sweet.”
He opened the bag, then kissed Sherri’s cheek. “Honey crullers. My favorite.” He pushed the door open wider so that she could enter. “Your madre said she’d call me at work, after you talk to the surgeon, to let me know.”
“I’m sorry you can’t go with us.”
Her dad waved his free hand. “Some stuff a father doesn’t need to know.”
Sherri moved ahead to the kitchen and put the tray of coffees on the counter. She took one of the paper cups and sipped from it. “It’s going to be okay, Dad.”
He watched her, his eyes searching hers. “Trying to convince me? Or yourself?”
She gave a half-hearted shrug. “Both maybe.”
They looked at each other for a long while, but didn’t say any more. Instead, her dad pulled a cruller from the bag and offered it to her. She shook her head. “I got them for you,” she told him.
“Gracias.”
Mama entered the kitchen, followed by Abuela. Sherri pointed to the counter. “I brought coffee and crullers, if Dad will share.”
“I don’t think I can eat, mija.” Mama held a hand to her belly. “I didn’t sleep at all last night and my stomach...it is in knots.”
Her dad kissed Mama and hugged her tightly. “Sherri said it’s going to be okay.” He kissed her again. “It will be. No matter what the doctor says.”
Sherri glanced at the clock on the wall. “We’d better get going just in case of rush hour.”
Despite the heavy traffic, they made it to the hospital with plenty of time to spare. Sherri clasped Mama’s hand in hers as they entered the doctor’s office and found seats in the tiny waiting room. Mama held up a small pad and pen. “For notes, just like I promised.”
Thank goodness her mom had remembered, because Sherri wasn’t sure she could remember her own name at the moment. All she could focus on was the beat of her heart. Each breath took an effort, and her skin felt tight as if it would crack and break open with a simple movement.
A nurse opened the inner office door and called Sherri’s name. Sherri rose to her feet and squared her shoulders. Mama nodded and stood, as well.
The next hour was spent discussing test results and the next steps. Sherri’s prognosis wasn’t good. Scans showed cancer peppered throughout her right breast, not just in the lump they’d removed. The biopsy indicated that it was a type of cancer that tended to spread rather than remain localized. Sherri held up her hand. “Wait. What are we talking about here?”
Dr. VanGilder looked up from the medical file and faced her. “I recommend a bilateral mastectomy.”
Sherri brought her arms up to her chest. “Both? But I thought the cancer was only in the right one.”
Dr. VanGilder stepped forward, closing the distance between them. A kind, but knowing expression on his face. “It is, although there are suspicious spots in the left I’m looking down the road.”
“And then after the surgery?”
“Depending on further test results, chemo and radiation. And once you’re healed, reconstruction.” He tried to give her a smile, but the situation didn’t seem to call for it. Instead, he let out a sigh. “When this is all over, we can give you the body you want.”
“But what if I want this one? It’s what I know.” Sherri shook her head and dropped her arms to her sides. “This isn’t fair.”
“Cancer doesn’t care about what’s fair, unfortunately.” Dr. VanGilder closed the file. “Sherri, obviously this is hard for you to take in, but the sooner we move on this, the better your chances are later.”
Mama reached out and took Sherri’s hand in hers and squeezed it. “When do we do this?” Sherri asked.
He checked his tablet. “I have an opening in two weeks.”
Sherri took a deep breath and let it out slowly. So soon? Too soon. She tried to swallow and tasted bile. What was she going to do? What was there to do but agree to the doctor’s recommendation? She agreed and appreciated Mama’s note-taking, since she didn’t hear another word that Dr. VanGilder said after that. Her mind instead insisted she’d do what she would have to in order to survive. Surgery? Fine. Chemo and radiation? Sure. Because she wouldn’t give up and give in to this disease. She would fight.
But she didn’t have to be happy about it.
* * *
THIS DAY COULDN’T arrive any sooner for Dez. He’d missed seeing Sherri on a daily basis, even though he’d been with her just days ago at her parents’ house. He kept watching the office door for her to enter. She’d promised to show as soon as she’d met with the surgeon. He kept his fingers crossed for good news. They could use some of that.
Noon was approaching and still no Sherri. His stomach reminded him that it needed attention. He glanced over at the office door. He could wait until Sherri arrived and then take her to lunch, so they could discuss what the doctor had said. Because her condition affected him as well as her.
She was his partner, and the job didn’t work without her. Maybe she’d phone and not come in after all. He turned to check on the captain in his personal office, but Phil didn’t seem to be doing anything except reviewing files and drinking coffee. She wouldn’t not call Cap, but if the news wasn’t great...
The office door opened and Sherri stepped forward. She looked... Angry? And maybe a little worried. He jumped up and got to her desk just as she slammed her purse down. She removed her handgun from the locked desk drawer and holstered it to her side. She winced a little, but apart from that looked the same. He watched her, waiting for her to say something. Ignoring him, she snatched the purse from the desktop and placed it in her drawer. She threw herself into the chair and looked up at him. “What?”
“I was going to ask how the appointment went, but I think I got my answer.”
Sherri pursed her lips and shook her head, the loose waves of her dark brown hair falling forward around her shoulders. She kept shaking her head and refused to talk until he put a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “It’s going to change everything,” she whispered.
That was what he’d been worried about. “What’s next?”
“Double mastectomy. Chemo. Radiation. Reconstruction.” She put a hand to her forehead. “I don’t understand how all of this is possible. It doesn’t make sense. It’s as if I’m trapped in some kind of nightmare. It all feels so unreal. I’m fit and healthy. I take care of myself. I just don’t get it. What did I do wrong?”
Dez was desperate to reassure her. “I don’t think cancer discriminates. It can happen to anyone.”
“Well, it sucks.”
Dez could only nod as she stared into space, lost in her worries. He wasn’t sure what else he could do for her, but he was willing to do whatever she needed. He’d sit next to her at chemo appointments. He’d bring her food when she could eat and hold her hair when she couldn’t keep anything down. He only wished he could take the cancer from her. To protect her from the ravages that the treatment would inflict on her body. That was one thing he couldn’t do.
Sherri rose to her feet. “I gotta go tell Cap I’ll be out for six to eight weeks while I recuperate from the surgery.”
Dez shot backward, almost tripping over a chair. “Six weeks without you here? No. I could barely handle a few days. You can’t.”
“No choice.” She took a deep breath and released it, but didn’t move from her spot. She seemed to focus in on him, offering him her hand. “I don’t think I can do this alone, Dez. Will you come with me?”
Anything for her. “And I’m telling him that I’ll be in the waiting room the day of your surgery. And any other day you need me. I’ll be there for you, Sherri. I promise.” He followed her into the captain’s office. The click of the door shutting behind them sounded like the end of something.
* * *
WITH TWO WEEKS to go until her surgery, Sherri made a list of things she would need to accomplish before then. Cases to close. Medical supplies to purchase and store for when she’d need them.
She met with her surgeon a few days before the op, and VanGilder went over every question she and Mama could come up with, as well as a few from Dez. As she left the office with instructions for presurgery, she glimpsed Dr. Sprader sitting in the waiting room. She gave a small wave to the ER doctor. “Are you seeing Dr. VanGilder, too?”
April nodded. “He’s one of the best.” She put a hand on Sherri’s arm. “How are you handling all this?”
“You saw my chart?”
“No, but you’re walking out of a surgeon’s office with a list of pre-op instructions. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”
“Right.” She glanced at the paper and showed it to April. “It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?”
“As one who’s gone through it already, I can give you some tips if you’d like.”
Sherri nodded. “That would be great.”
April acknowledged the nurse who had just called her name. “I should be finished here in about twenty minutes.” She dug through her purse and found paper and pen, then wrote out an address. She thrust the note into Sherri’s hand. “If you don’t have plans tonight, we can meet for dinner. I’ll tell you everything I know.”
Sherri glanced down at the address and nodded. “Thanks.”
“Like I said, I’ve been where you are right now. Maybe I can make things easier for you.” April collected her things and followed the nurse out of the room.
Sherri drove to the address that April had written down and ordered an iced tea while she waited. She drummed her fingers on the wooden table and watched the entrance to the restaurant. She opened and shut the menu several times, not interested in food. She’d lost her appetite, which Mama warned her would hurt her recovery after surgery.
Maybe she could eat once the surgery was done. Because all she could think about now were knives and needles, and those took away any happy thought about enjoying a meal. She tried to ignore the images in her mind with a sip of her iced tea that the waitress had just brought over.
The door suddenly swung open and April bounced in, followed by another woman. Sherri waved them over. April pointed to the other woman. “This is Page. She’s going through breast cancer treatment, too, and I thought two heads might be better than one. The more information you have, the better you’ll feel.”
“I’m not sure. I don’t feel so great right now, to be honest.”
April placed a hand on top of Sherri’s. “I remember. But I promise that things will get better.”
Page shook her head and adjusted the scarf around what looked to be her bald head. “Don’t promise her things you can’t deliver, April.” Page glanced at Sherri. “April’s experience with this has been far different from mine. I think that’s why she invited me along. I didn’t have an easy time.”
April disagreed. “Hey, I didn’t, either.”
Page gave April a scolding look. “You breezed through it a lot more than I did.”
April frowned. “I wouldn’t say breezed. It wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.” She reached up and touched her short, curly hair. “But I am on the other side of it now. The better side. It’s not nearly as scary. I know it sounds like your life is hitting a dead end, Sherri, but think of it as more like a detour. Your life isn’t over, and Page and I are proof of that.”
The waitress returned to the table, and they ordered their meals. After she left, Sherri brought out a small book and pen. “I figured I’d take notes?”
April nodded. “You’ll want to write things down as much as you can. And if you can’t, have someone else do it. There’s a lot that’s going to be thrown at you, and you don’t want to miss anything.”
“And if you don’t understand something, ask. There’s no such thing as a stupid question.” Page used her straw to stir the lemon in her water. “I’ve been a nurse full-time for six years, but there are still things that I had to ask.”
April spoke up again. “You’ll be wearing tops that either button or zip up the front for the first couple of months. Nothing you have to pull over your head. Check your closet now and stock up if you need to.”
“And get a bra that opens in the front.” Page glanced at April. “That’s what she recommended, and it was some of her best advice.”
Sherri wrote every single thing down. She watched as the two women reminisced about chemo goody bags and pillows kept in their cars to protect the scars when wearing a seat belt. “I didn’t realize all this stuff.”
“And they’re things the doctors can’t tell you because most of them haven’t experienced it. They can explain all about the medical supplies you’ll need and things like that.” April took the pad of paper from Sherri and then wrote down several more things. “But someone who has lived through it has a different perspective.” She handed the book back to Sherri.
Sherri read what April had added, and smiled at the phone numbers she’d listed. “My ‘in case of emergency’ numbers?”
“You’re going to have some bad days, and that’s when you call one of us. We can talk you through it.” April slipped an arm around Page. “She helped me through mine. I helped her through hers. And now we’ll help you.”
“Why?”
“Consider us your boob squad.” At Sherri’s downturned lips, April shrugged. “We’ll come up with a better name. The price of membership stinks, but remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. And when you’re ready, you can stop in at the Hope Center. There’s a lot of great resources there for women like us.”
The waitress brought their salads, and conversation paused until she left the table. Page leaned in. “Have a spokesperson to give family and friends updates so you don’t have to repeat the same details over and over.”
April chimed in. “And let everyone who offers to help you have a chance to do something. Even if it’s bringing over a pizza, or doing a load of your laundry. This isn’t the time to be independent. That will come later.”
Sherri stabbed a tomato, then looked from one woman to the other. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
Page stared at her and swallowed. “Good. Because you’re picking up the tab.”
CHAPTER FOUR (#ua5685325-381b-585e-8b10-b00b57138d52)
SHERRI CHANGED INTO the soft green hospital gown and footies that the nurse gave her, then sat on the edge of the hospital bed. She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking and tried to swallow past the lump that had lodged in her throat. In just a matter of minutes, an orderly would wheel her to the operating room and her life would be turned upside down. Was she ready for that?
A knock at the door, and the nurse ushered Dez in. He kissed Sherri lightly on the cheek. “There she is.”
He looked hot in a baby blue T-shirt that stretched across his chest and was tucked into his worn denim jeans. She chastised herself. She shouldn’t be thinking like this when she was about to have surgery. She should be focused on herself. On her body. Instead, her traitorous mind pointed out how well Dez filled out that T-shirt. And those muscled arms. They both worked out regularly to stay in shape for the job, but he looked like he’d been putting in extra time with the weights. And surely those arms would hold her tight and keep her away from harm. She sighed, stowing those thoughts away. “Did you see my parents in the waiting room?”
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Syndi Powell
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: They’re in this fight togetherBorder Patrol agent Desmond Jackson would gladly take a bullet for his partner. Instead, it’s Detroit border patrol agent Sherri Lopez who ends up wounded in a drug raid…then blindsided by a shocking diagnosis.The woman Dez secretly loves is a warrior now in a fight for her life. Strong and independent, Sherri won’t let anything defeat her—or let herself rely on Dez. Doesn’t she realize how good they are together? All Dez knows is he can’t lose her…or the friendship that’s slowly evolving into something even more precious.