Hou Ho'omaka
(New Beginning)
Devastated. That was the only word that could truly describe what Rita was feeling. Her prince was gone. Taken from her and their baby by a man with no respect for life.
The days that followed Chris' death had been a blur. Decisions had to be made but she couldn't bring herself to make them. Each one would force her to admit that he was gone. She couldn't bring herself to do that. Fran stepped in and handled almost everything. Her life as a nurse and veteran police officer's wife had prepared her for times like these.
"Listen, doll," Fran said as she held Rita's hand, "anything you or that little bundle needs, consider it done."
Rita looked at Fran as her eyes welled with tears. Her lips began to quiver as she quietly began to cry.
She pulled Rita in for a hug. "Oh, honey, I wish more than anything I could give you that!"
Fran knew. She understood. The only thing Rita wanted was Chris.
The nights were hardest. In the quiet, with nothing and no one to occupy her, she was free to do the things she shouldn't. Like play his death over and over in her head. Question why she didn't help him. She could have grabbed his second from his ankle. Two on one would have been better.
She thought back to the morning after they finally stopped fighting their feelings. She had wanted him to return to bed with her.
"We only have an hour," he said.
"No,' she said as she kissed him," we have the rest of our lives."
Had she tempted fate with that statement? Was there some unseen force that delighted in breaking the hearts of people everywhere?
Her dreams made the nights unbearable. There were no visions of happy times. Sneaking around like teenagers. Stealing a kiss or caress when no one was looking. Sharing a knowing glance across their desks. No. Her dreams were nightmares made up of watching him fall to the ground. Watching his blood spread across the vest that was supposed to save him. Memories of watching medical staff fight to resuscitate him. His eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that were like two perfect gemstones. When he looked at her they had been filled with so much life and love. But, in her dreams, they were lifeless as they stared at her. The last image of her Sam was the one that haunted her every night.
She was so angry. Not just at Montoya, or Ray Quiller, but at herself and at Chris. He had promised her forever and he broke that promise. She was angry with herself for fighting so long to keep from admitting what she had known for years. She wasted so much time.
He would laugh and say "I'm sneakin' up on your blind side, Sam."
He had no idea how right he had been. If she had just given in. Well, she wished now she had.
The morning of the funeral found her dressed in black and staring at the mirror. The universe's ultimate cruelty. Today he would be wrenched from her grasp forever. The one thing that would force her to let him go.
The ride to the cemetery was endless and silent. Harry stared out the window of the limousine. He had barely spoken and, when he did, the normally rock-solid police captain's voice cracked with sadness. Fran sat next to Rita, holding her hand. She had continued her self-appointed mission to handle all that she could. Rita was glad they were there.
Chris' parents couldn't be tracked down. They didn't even know that he had gotten married and had a baby on the way let alone that he had been killed. In their place, though, were Harry and Fran. Two people who considered Chris their own son and Rita their daughter.
The limo came to a stop as the procession reached the grave site. The casket was already in its place and Rita nearly collapsed at the sight of it. Harry was immediately at her side but her nearly dead was almost too much for him. Another hand reached out for her.
"Come on, Rita, lean on me." She looked up into the face of George Donovan. Though he wore sunglasses she could see the streaks the tears had left on his face. He and Chris had butted heads often. But they respected each other. It was only now that Rita realized how much he did think of her husband.
She glanced around at those in attendance. There were so many. Police officers from all over the state, some kids from the basketball league Chris coached and even old flames. She was surprised to see Eric. Jillian and Rikki, however, were no surprise at all.
Rita also noticed a woman she had never seen before. A petite blonde, well-dressed and wearing dark sunglasses. Who was she? An old girlfriend? Someone Chris had gone to school with? When the woman noticed Rita looking at her she smiled and nodded her head. Her face said she understood Rita's pain. There was compassion and kindness.
When she saw Captain Hutchinson she burst into tears. He had been the reason they were partnered. He felt Rita's analytical style would balance out Chris' reactionary cowboy ways. If not for Hutch, she would have likely continued in the department believing Chris to be a cocky little Romeo and nothing more. She couldn't have been more wrong.
Hutch pulled her in for a hug. "Rita, Rita, my girl, I am so sorry."
He helped her to a seat and stepped behind her. The chairs began to fill in around her with Fran and Harry seated to her left and right followed by Holly, Michael and the rest from PBPD surrounding her. It was an unspoken statement. This woman and child had their full protection.
Rita didn't see the limousine as it came to a stop in the distance. She didn't see the two men in suits get out and take up positions standing next to it. They never approached the funeral, instead, choosing to watch from a distance.
The voice of the minister faded into the distance as Rita sat and stared at the casket. She had been against a grave side service. She felt like everyone should have more time to say goodbye. Really, though, she wanted to hold on just a little longer. Now, as she sat there and looked at his flag draped coffin, she was glad the funeral director had encouraged otherwise. She wouldn't have been able to take it.
When the time came for the rifle salute she jumped at every volley. For the first time that morning the baby began to kick and continued doing so until the bagpipes were played.
Rita rubbed her stomach as she whispered, "Shh, my love, shh. I'm sad too."
She was presented the flag and saluted. As Amazing Grace played on the pipes, she approached Chris' casket. Bending close she whispered, "I love you" and placed a single long-stem red rose atop it. Others followed suite as each took a moment to say a final farewell to their friend, their partner, their brother in arms.
And then it was over. George and Hutch helped her to the car where Fran, Harry, Holly and Michael were already waiting.
"Rita," Hutch said, "if there is anything you need you know how to reach me." Rita nodded and smiled.
The others echoed his sentiments as she got into the limo. The only thing she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry.
As the door closed behind her, the two men glanced at each other and nodded. They got into their own limo and it began a slow drive to Christopher's grave site. Parking, they waited. When the last attendee had pulled out of sight, Donnie "Dogs" DiBarto emerged, followed by his son, Donnie Jr. They carried an enormous, beautiful floral arrangement.
"I'm sorry, Lorenzo," Dogs said in his thick New York accent, "I didn't know until it was too late. You an' me, we didn't get along. But I have a special place for Rita. And she loves you, so you musta' been okay."
"Me an' Pops, we're gonna' look out for her and your baby. They are gonna' be taken care of."
They placed the arrangement on the casket and returned to their vehicle. DiBarto was true to his word. He had already set the wheels in motion. Starting with an unsettling bit of information he had received the day Chris Lorenzo had been shot.
As usual, Rita had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes she saw him. She was haunted by images of his lifeless body on that hospital bed. She had risen several times and paced the floor. Everywhere she looked in that loft were memories of Chris. His heavy bag, his basketball, the keys to that awful car he loved so much. She wanted to be here, wrapped in his presence. At the same time, she felt the walls closing in.
A light knock on the door brought her back to reality. She opened it to find Dr. Diana Roth standing on the other side. She didn't say a word as she grabbed Rita and hugged her. The only response Rita could muster was to begin sobbing uncontrollably.
Diana only hugged her tighter, "I know, honey, I know. Let it come."
Hours later found them on the couch reminiscing. For the first time in a while Rita smiled. That had always been one of Diana's super powers.
"I remember the first time I saw that hunk of goodness. My first thought was that I wouldn't mind a ride on that roller coaster." Diana paused and looked at Rita. "I also remember the day I knew it would never happen."
"Yeah?"
"We had just cleared a scene. You and Chris were standing by your car, talking. It was the way he leaned in as he spoke to you and the way he listened when you responded. It was like every word you uttered would be the most important thing he would hear."
Rita glanced at her wedding ring as Diana continued.
"I knew my hopes were dashed when I saw the way you responded to him. Rita, from that day on, I knew there was such a thing as meant to be."
Rita grinned, "I remember a certain M.E. flirting with him all the time."
"I liked to make him squirm," she said as a wicked smile crossed her lips.
As it turned out, Diana had taken off a full two weeks from work. When word had reached her that Chris had been shot she wanted to get to Rita immediately. By the time an M.E. was found to cover her shifts, he had already been laid to rest. So, she decided she would be Rita's girl Friday and help her with whatever she needed.
"Diana, no. You should visit your friends while you're here."
Diana raised her hands and shook her head, "I'm here to help you. It's not a request. If all you need is company then I'll be that. Fran and I have already discussed it. Wouldn't you do the same for me?"
Rita knew she would without a second thought. She also knew she couldn't handle everything on her own. Even though everyone else had offered, they all had jobs and families. Diana was completely available to help her.
Rita sat on the floor as she rummaged through the box. She had found it in Chris' closet. It didn't take long to figure out they were mementos of a childhood he barely spoke of.
"What do you have there," Diana asked as she sat next to her.
"Pictures of Chris when he was little." She handed Diana a photo of two-year-old Christopher on his mother's lap.
"Oh, he was so cute," she exclaimed as she took a closer look. "Wait. Is that…is that Anna Alexis?!"
"That's her. Christopher's mom. I still haven't been able to reach her. Or his dad for that matter."
Setting the pictures aside they continued to explore the box. Diana removed a small, lidded one from it.
"It's heavy, Rita, whatever it is," she said as she removed the lid. Peering inside she gasped in surprise. "It's beautiful!"
She passed the box to Rita who looked inside to find a red rose encased in a glass sphere. Tipping the box over, the sphere rolled out into her hand followed by a folded piece of paper.
Unfolding the paper, she began to read:
Sammy,
Do you remember when I gave you this "stolen" rose? The day I gave it to you was so
special. I wanted you to have this so that, when you look at it, you can be reminded of when we
stopped being afraid. When we started our amazing adventure together.
When you look at it, Sam, know that more than anything in this world, I love you. Heart and
Soul, I love you. With every ounce of me, I love you.
Your Sam forever.
Rita covered her mouth with her hand as she sobbed. She was so angry with him!
"He PROMISED me forever!" She threw the orb on the couch and walked angrily to their bedroom.
Diana picked up the sphere and note and placed them back in the box. She was worried for her friend. The Rita she knew was much tougher than this. This wound was deep. It had been created by a much deeper love. Now the question was would that part of Chris that grew inside Rita be enough to help her heal?
Hours later Rita returned to the living room. "I…I want to apologize for that," she said, embarrassed.
"My friend," Diana said, "you have nothing to apologize for. You're angry and hurt. I understand that."
She handed Rita a cup of tea. After a few minutes she said, "My worry is what this stress is doing to you and the baby."
Rita sighed. She knew Diana was right. She couldn't keep doing this. There was more to think of than just herself.
"Diana," she said, "I've made some decisions and I need your help."
The little cottage on the beach was adorable. She had been surprised when Rita told her about it because she simply couldn't fit it and Chris together. But, once she saw it, she could see him.
Unlocking the door, she stepped inside. What she found was unexpected. It didn't feel like a place that had gone long without visitors. There was a familiar presence in that cottage.
"Get a hold of yourself, girl. You're just wishing for the impossible," she thought.
There were signs of him everywhere. A baseball hat tossed on a lampshade. A poster from one of his moms' movies, framed and hung. Multiple pictures of him with Rita and of her accepting a commendation for valor. All of this was probably why Diana felt him here. There was no way Rita could have done this. Not now.
Doing as Rita requested, she made certain all the windows and the back door were locked and all appliances were unplugged. Her final task was to roll down the storm shutters over the windows.
Having done everything Rita asked she headed for the front door. As she reached out for the knob the floor behind her creaked. She stopped and listened while slowly reaching into her pocket for her mace. She summoned her courage and turned around. Nothing. Or was it? That same familiar feeling washed over her again. Yet she didn't feel as though she was in danger.
She shook her head as she slid her mace back into her pocket. She wanted so badly for him to be alive. For Rita to continue living the life she deserved. Diana's mind and heart were working overtime.
Sighing, she locked the front door and went to her car. Looking once more at the cottage she thought it would be the first and only time she ever saw it. Which saddened her because she could plainly envision the tiny family on the beach in front.
Donnie DiBarto Sr. looked up from his desk. He slowly clenched and unclenched his fists.
"You sure about this," he asked.
"Yeah, Pops. Guy came into the club askin' for you but had ta' settle for me."
"What, exactly, did he say?"
"Wanted to know if it was true that you know Rita well. Said his employer would make it worth your while to share her location."
His eyes seemed to fill with more anger every time his son spoke.
"Where is this jamoke now?"
"Right outside waitin' to talk to you, Pop."
Manuel Desoto entered the room with his hand outstretched. Donnie looked at it and glared at him as he promptly withdrew it.
"Mr. Dibarto…," he began as Donnie promptly cut him off.
"You don't talk. I talk," he said as he slowly circled the now seated DeSoto. It clearly made the man nervous.
Donnie returned to his chair and sat, staring. He didn't stop until the man looked away.
"I know who your boss is. And I know what he wants. Now, you take a message to him from me. Rita Lorenzo and everyone she cares about is off limits."
DeSoto could not believe what he was hearing. A boss like DiBarto protecting a cop? Montoya was not going to be pleased.
As DiBarto's bodyguard escorted DeSoto from the room, Dogs picked up the phone and dialed.
"What?! What?! Speak! I'm in the middle of a briefing, here!" Captain Harry Lipschitz hated to be interrupted when he was being briefed by his detectives.
"Who? Oh, he does, does he," he asked as he rolled his eyes at Holly and Michael. "Who am I to say no to Dogs DiBarto? Put him through."
His look of annoyance soon turned to one of worry. "Are you sure about this, Dibarto? Yes, yes, Donnie, I agree. Keep me posted."
He hung up the phone and stared, quiet for several minutes. Holly and Michael exchanged confused looks.
"Captain," she asked, "is something wrong?"
"Do you two know who Donnie "Dogs" Dibarto is?"
"Are you kidding," Michael asked. "We heard about him all the way up in Chicago."
"Chris and Rita mentioned him a couple of times," Holly added. "What about him?"
"He just had a visit from one of Alejandro Montoya's guys. Montoya offered to make it worth his while if…," Harry just couldn't get the words out.
"If what, Cap," Holly asked.
"He wants help getting to Rita!"
Holly didn't even realize she was out of her chair. "What the hell?! Who is Alejandro Montoya? We can't let this happen! This will NOT happen!"
Michael stood and grabbed his partner. "Calm down. Of course, we won't let this happen. Flying off the handle won't fix it!"
"Oh, I'm not flying off the handle. But I AM going to rip that guy's head off!"
"DETECTIVE," Harry raised his voice, "THAT is exactly the sort of thing I would expect from DiBarto!"
Holly looked at him. Then a question crossed her mind. "Why would a guy like DiBarto protect a cop?"
"That, Detective Rawlins, is a long story."
Michael and Holly returned to their desks. Holly had been sitting a while when she realized Michael was hovering around his chair.
"What are you doing," she asked.
Michael looked embarrassed. "I can't…it's just…," his voice trailed off.
They had been assigned Chris and Rita's desks when they were partnered. They both protested but, the fact was, that was what was available in the division.
At first, Michael tried to put it out of his mind. He was there to do a job. Though the circumstances sucked that was the nature of the job.
Things had gone fine until he dug into a drawer for supplies. What he found was a jewelry box.
"What do I do with this," he asked Holly.
Glancing from her paperwork she asked what it was. Michael turned the box showing her the contents. It was a beautiful gold chain and, on that, was a rolled gold pendant that formed the silhouette of a mother holding a baby. There was also a note. Michael began to open it.
"Whatever is on that note," Holly told him, "is between Rita and Chris."
Not knowing what else to do they turned it over to Harry. Neither of them felt close enough, or that they knew Rita well enough, to deliver it to her.
Finding it had made Michael gun shy. Since then he absolutely did not feel right about using Chris' desk.
"Michael," Holly had told him," what would Chris tell you? He'd say, 'Do your job, son.' The criminals don't care that he's gone. But he would care if you aren't doing your part to balance the scales."
She hadn't been Chris' partner long. But it had been long enough to figure out he was a good man. Honorable and true to his word. A man who took his responsibility as a cop seriously and his dedication to his family even more so. She had been incredibly lucky to be partnered with him.
Finally seated he looked at Holly. "Can you believe what the Captain told us about DiBarto? His rep in Chicago…well, he wasn't someone to cross. Now, we hear he practically went straight because of Rita?"
Holly nodded her head. "Beauty tamed the beast, so to speak. What are we going to do? We cannot let anything happen to Rita and the baby."
"We'll do what Chris would have," he said. "Protect them at all costs."
Dibarto placed the phone back in its cradle and looked at his son.
"I'm a little surprised by this, Junior. I figured it was done when Jesus Montoya was taken care of. Never imagined his brother would crawl from under his rock to continue it."
"Pop, you did what you could. We would have handled it if Lipschitz and that lady copy hadn't. We still can."
"We can, Junior. We can at that. First thing we do is…"
Harry sat staring at the jewelry box. It had been in his desk for weeks. Unsure how to present it to Rita, uncertain if it would send her over the edge or make her happy. Now he had to tell her the storm clouds were gathering again. Jesus Montoya had a brother hell bent on finishing what was started when a lone gunman was ordered to end three lives.
Diana returned to the loft, lunch and cottage keys in hand. Juggling what she was carrying she was completely oblivious to the car parked across the street. Nor did she notice the two men inside. They watched as she entered the building.
"Yes, sir, a friend of hers just went in. Yeah, yeah, I'm sure. It's that medical examiner, Dr. Roth."
He nodded his head, said he understood and hung up the cell phone.
"He wants us to stay here and watch for the lady cop," he told the driver.
"Then what?"
"Take care of her," he said with a matter-of-fact tone.
The driver took a long drag off his cigarette. "Whatever the boss wants," he said as he returned to flipping his lighter open and closed.
Alejandro Montoya could not believe what he was hearing. He insisted DeSoto repeat himself.
"He told me she and everyone she cared about was off limits."
"Off limits? As in he gets first crack?"
"That is no the impression I got, sir. He was…," DeSoto paused. He liked breathing and Montoya had a short fuse.
"What, Manuel, what?"
"It was a warning, sir. He was quite serious."
Montoya lost his smile. He stared at Manuel for a very long time. Then he burst into laughter.
"HE was warning ME?"
Leaning back in his chair he lit his Cuban cigar and rolled it between his thumb and finger. He blew the smoke from his lips and smiled again.
"It doesn't matter, Manuel. I have what I need."
Diana answered the door for Rita. Harry and Fran entered laden with bags. They carried them to the kitchen and placed them on the counter.
Fran embraced Rita. "Hiya, doll. How are you? Let me look at you."
Holding Rita at arms-length she looked her up and down.
"Have you lost weight? That's no good. Luckily, we came armed."
Reaching into one of the bags she pulled out a covered baking dish followed by a loaf of bread.
"It's still warm," she says as she pulls off the cover, "and cheesy."
Rita sat at the table with the rest of them. She merely picked at the food, pushing it around the plate and trying to make it look like she was eating.
"What's wrong, doll. Don't you like it?"
Rita looked at the plate of lasagna and started to cry. It was ridiculous to cry over food, but she couldn't help it.
Fran looked from Rita to Harry to Diana and back to Rita. She had made missteps in the kitchen before but, never with her lasagna and never bad enough to make someone cry.
"No, no, Fran. It's delicious. And I truly appreciate your making it. It's just that when I realized what it was…Chris loved your lasagna. The only one he liked better was his Grandma Rose's."
Fran patted her hand, "I love him, Rita. And you and that little bundle. I wish I had thought about it. I would have made something else."
After dinner, Harry pulled Rita aside, telling her he needed to talk to her. He wasn't sure if he was ready to do it, but he knew it had to be done.
He explained what DiBarto had told him and what he, Michael and Holly had found. He assured her they would not allow anything to happen to her. They were willing to go to any length to protect her and the baby.
Rita just stared at him. Her brain simply refused to process what he was telling her. Was it not enough that her world had been shattered? What could Montoya possibly hope to gain by carrying out what his brother had started?
"Rita, I know you're scared but you need to know we're all here for you. I want to get you set up in a safe house."
"Cap, I appreciate that. But you should know I'm not scared. I'm mad as hell!"
It certainly wasn't the reaction the three had expected. But they were glad of it. The tiger had returned.
She had been staring at the tiny jewelry box for an hour or more. Part of her wanted desperately to see the treasure it contained. Part of her didn't think she could take it.
"Are you okay," Diana asked softly.
"Yes. No. Both, I suppose. I want to know what's inside. But it breaks my heart that he isn't here to have given it to me. I can't kiss him and tell him how much I love him."
Diana smiled at her friend. "Rita, honey, he loves you. Wherever he is he loves you. And he's still telling you. He's still finding a way. So, it seems to me, he already knows all you want to say."
Rita sighed and picked the box up. She opened it and gasped. It was beautiful. It was perfect. She noticed the tiny piece of paper and pulled it out.
Opening it, she once again saw Chris' handwriting:
Rita,
The first time you said you loved me was the greatest gift I had ever received. From that
moment, there was only you. I didn't breathe, I didn't live, until you. There was nothing greater
anyone could have given me. Then you gave me the gift of a child. A perfect, precious
combination of the best parts of us. Our friendship, passion and love brought to life. There is
nothing more I will ever need.
Forever, Chris
When Rita looked at Diana she was smiling. Her finger traced the pendant and, for the first time in weeks, she felt peaceful.
She removed the necklace from its box and the one from her neck that carried Chris' wedding ring. Removing the ring she slid it onto the necklace with the pendant. When she picked the necklace up the ring slid in such a way that it encircled the pendant. It was the perfect symbol of Christopher's love.
"It looks good on you," Diana said, smiling. "He had really good taste."
The two men had been outside the loft for hours. They had been told to grab her as soon as they could and bring her to the boss. He had questions that needed answers. Then she was gonna' get to see that dead cop husband of hers.
They never heard the two men walking up behind their car. Neither realized they were there until each had a gun at the back of their head.
"Hiya, guys. Our boss requests your presence. Now, he wants to chat but, me, I got no problem dropping your carcass in front of him instead. Savvy?"
Both men nodded and exited their car. Hands up, they were marched toward their abductor's own vehicle. The trunk was opened, and they were forced inside.
"Boss! Boss! You need to see this!"
The man followed him to the front door. Lying outside of it were two of his own guys. They had been beaten, probably for information, and one had a bullet between his eyes. The other lay moaning in pain and barely able to move.
"Turn him over. Get his attention."
The men did as he said. Smacking his cheeks, they forced him to open his eyes.
"Who did this," he asked, irritated.
"He told me…he said," the man could barely speak. "He said this will be your only warning. You'll be next."
Anger spread across the boss' face. He pulled out his own gun and shot the man dead.
"Get rid of them."
The time had come to meet.
For the first time in weeks Rita left the loft. Diana had convinced her to go for lunch and then take a walk on the boardwalk.
"You need some sun and fresh air," Diana had told her.
They walked along, sipping smoothies, and talking about the past. They also touched on the future and what Rita was considering.
"What's on your mind, Rita?"
"Honestly? I know I can't stay here. Chris is everywhere I look, and it just breaks my heart. Sometimes I feel like I can't even breathe."
She stared off at the water. With no idea other than she had to protect the last piece of Chris she had she knew there was only one way to do it. She had to leave Palm Beach.
"Well, I love Texas. My house is big, too big for just me, really. We could be roomies."
"Roomies? In a few months there will be two Lorenzo's."
"So? I love babies," Diana smiled as she put her arm around Rita. "Besides, I don't want to miss out on the perfection you two created."
Rita hugged her friend. As she did she caught sight of the man with the lighter again. Ever the cop she knew all the times she noticed him that day were no coincidence.
The weather was pleasant, and Rita was feeling well so they decided to continue their boardwalk visit into dinner. Diana was searching a shop that had caught her eye and Rita used that time to slip away.
She put the gun between his shoulders where people passing by wouldn't notice. With her other hand, she pulled out her badge and showed it to him. Pregnant or not, Rita Lee Lorenzo had not lost her touch.
"Who are you," she asked in a hushed tone, "and why have you been following us?"
Before the man could answer a voice behind Rita spoke up
"He's with me."
She turned to find Donnie DiBarto Jr. behind her. A smiled formed on his face as he moved to the table.
"I told Mario here you'd figure it out eventually," he said as he sat down. "He didn't wanna' listen."
"Why are you following me, Junior," she asked as she holstered her weapon.
"Because me an' Pop made your husband a promise. And because you got a special place with us."
"Wait. What do you mean you promised Chris? Did you talk to him before he was shot?!"
"No, no. Nothin' like that. When we took flowers to his grave, we promised. We said we'd look out for both of you," he said as he glanced at her growing baby bump.
"So, when we heard another Montoya had slithered out of their hole," he continued, "well, here we are."
Rita couldn't help but smile. It was one of both irritation and appreciation. "Well, thank you, Donnie, but I can take care of myself."
"Hey, Rita," he said as he put his hands up, "you get no argument from me on that. Pop, though, he's a little more stubborn. Plus, well, we promised your husband. On sacred ground, no less."
"STOP following me, Donnie." The look on her face said she meant business.
"Rita, all I can do is pass that message to Pop. What he does with it," he shrugged his shoulders, "I cannot control."
She raised her eyebrow and sighed. "Good night, Junior. And thank you. For the flowers and the promise."
He nodded his head and raised his glass to her as she walked away. They would have to be more careful from here on out.
"Where did you disappear to," Diana asked as she shuffled her shopping bags.
"I, uh, saw someone I knew. So, ready for dinner? Someone's been doing a tap dance for about an hour." She rubbed her stomach and smiled. This little one was going to have Daddy's appetite.
Michael and Holly entered Harry's office.
"You wanted to see us, Captain," Holly asked as they sat down.
"Yeah. Okay, I've been in contact with DiBarto. Apparently, Montoya believes Chris did not turn over all the evidence from the bank box to his brother. He believes Chris either told Rita where it is or that she has it. He is desperate to get his hands on her."
"How did Dibarto come by this information," Michael asked.
"I didn't ask, and he didn't tell. Speaking of which, you two," he said as he peered over his glasses and pointed at them," say nothing to no one. As far as anyone knows we have a trustworthy c.i."
"Okay," Michael answered, "what are we doing to protect Rita and the baby?"
"She doesn't want protective custody. To be honest, my feeling is she's considering leaving."
"We can't let her do that," Holly said. "If she leaves we cannot protect them."
"I know that. My plan is to see her today. I'll be taking Fran to help convince her."
Diana answered the door as Rita got dressed. She could hear Diana's side of the conversation and she didn't sound happy.
"Hello," the man said as he smiled at Diana. "I'm looking for Rita Lance…uh…Lorenzo. My name is Eric. Eric Russell. I'm a friend."
Diana's eyes narrowed. There was a frosty bite to her tone.
"I know who you are."
He dropped his head. He wasn't going to find a friend in this lady.
"Is she here? May I speak with her?"
"That depends on whether or not she wants to speak with you." Diana hadn't liked this man before she met him. Now Chris was gone, Eric's motive was suspect, and she liked him even less.
"It's okay, Diana," Rita said as she descended the stairs, "he can come in."
She stood on the small landing as he entered. He looked at her and could not believe how beautiful she was. Even more so pregnant.
"Hello, Rita," he smiled as he said her name.
"Eric." Her tone was matter-of-fact. He deserved it.
"I wanted to talk to you at the funeral. To tell you how sorry I was about Chris. I didn't know you were pregnant."
"Thank you, Eric, I appreciate that," she responded as she went down the remaining steps and crossed to the couch.
Rita sat on the couch and glanced at Diana who had retreated to the kitchen. She stared at Eric, cup of coffee in one hand, tapping the counter with the fingers of her other hand.
"Would you like to sit," Rita asked, motioning next to her. "How have you been?"
"I've been good," Eric said as he sat down. "I've been okay. Busy working on a new book." He glanced nervously toward the kitchen.
"But I didn't come here to talk about me. How are you, Rita?"
"Broken, Eric. I am broken. I am sad and devastated. And blessed," she said, rubbing her stomach as the baby kicked.
He didn't know what to say. What was he doing there?
Almost as if she read his mind she asked, "Why are you here, Eric?" She was staring at him. There was no malice in her eyes. No anger. She was simply over him.
"I just wanted you to know I'm here for you. If you need anything. Even if that means a place to stay."
"So, you thought you'd ride in on a white horse and fix it?"
"Rita, I just…we have a connection. I wanted to be here for you."
"We HAD a connection until you wadded it up and threw it away. Then, despite how hurt you left me, how shredded I was, the universe smiled on me."
Eric braced himself. He knew he was about to hear something he didn't want to. Coming here had been selfish of him. He realized that now. The truth was, he couldn't hold a candle to Chris, and he knew it.
She held up her left hand and showed him her wedding band.
"See this? The man that gave me this loved me wholly, completely. To the total exclusion of everything else. He was my partner in every sense of the word. There are few men like that in the world. You certainly aren't one of them."
He stood to leave. "I'm sorry, Rita. Sorry to have upset you. Sorry, very sorry, that Chris is gone. And for everything I did to hurt you."
"I'm not sorry about us, Eric. What happened hurt me. But it led me to Chris and I will never regret that."
"Take care, Rita. My offer to help stands."
Rita saw him to the door and closed it behind him. She turned and glanced at Diana who was wearing a pleased look. Her friend was getting stronger every day.
It was another beautiful day. They found Harry and Fran sitting at a table at the outdoor café.
Harry rose and greeted them, hugging Rita as he did so. "You look good," he said. "Rested."
"I am, thanks to D's mothering."
They enjoyed lunch as they sat and talked. Rita could tell, though, that something was on Harry's mind.
"I cannot believe Eric had the nerve…," Fran was at a loss for words.
"When I opened that door," Diana said, "I wanted to punch him right in the face. Then, to offer her a place to stay, like he'd squirm his way back in. Besides, she already has an open invitation to come to Texas."
"Which brings me," Harry said, "to something I need to talk to you about."
He explained all the he, Michael and Holly had learned. Considering it, he was asking her to put off leaving so they could protect her. He also sheepishly admitted he had already put two plain clothes officers on her loft.
"How did you find all this out, Cap," Rita asked, already suspecting the answer.
"That's not what's important. Now, I must ask. Did Chris talk to you about anything he found? Did he show you anything or leave something with you?"
"Of course, he talked to me about the case. I'm Chief of Detectives, after all. The last thing he mentioned was the safety deposit box Holly had tracked down. Neither of us knew what was in it at that point. I didn't know until…," her voice trailed off. Chris had exchanged its contents to save her and their baby. He forfeited his own life in the process.
The man leaned over and whispered in Donnie's ear. DiBarto glanced at the bar and saw Alejandro Montoya standing next to it.
"That's nice, Honey," he said to the dancer on stage. "You can start tonight."
As the woman left the stage Donnie got up and went to the bar. The bartender set him up as he reached it. He neither looked at nor acknowledged Montoya until his first sip.
"What do you want?"
"Donnie 'Dogs' Dibarto. Your reputation precedes you."
"I'm not interested in your opinion, Montoya. What do you want?" Donnie's face said it all. He was completely unimpressed.
"I believe something was lost in your conversation with my man. The offer is a good one for you. Lucrative. It's simply that the request has changed."
"Oh, yeah, how's that?"
"I have the information I need. I just need you to stay out of my way. No more, uh, packages on my doorstep," he said, arrogantly.
DiBarto's face was blank. Montoya couldn't read it at all. Surely, though, a business man like DiBarto was looking at the bottom line.
"I've tried to figure out why you're protecting her. She's not dirty. So, I settled on you're in love with her." Now he was looking to push buttons.
"If that's the case, I would think you would want to thank me for what my brother did. He removed the competition, after all. I would even be willing to let her live. I just want to talk to her."
If Alejandro Montoya was unsure of that Dogs was thinking, he got his answer when he crushed the tumbler he was holding. Blood dripping down his arm, he walked toward a now visibly shaken Montoya and backed him up until he had no where else to go. He now stood, eye to eye, with Rita Lorenzo's most dangerous defender.
Montoya's men moved to protect their boss. Reaching into their jackets to draw their weapons, they formed a semi-circle around the two men. But, before they could pull them out, Dibarto's own men had pulled their own guns and pointed them at each man's head and at Alejandro Montoya.
"Back off! BACK OFF," Montoya screamed. They were outnumbered, and he knew they wouldn't leave alive if this continued. His men raised their own hands and backed up. Through all of it, Donnie never flinched or stopped staring at Montoya.
"You gotta' lot of cuzzo, comin' in my place, runnin' your mouth like that. I don't owe you anything. Your man gave me your message and my response was clear. So, I gotta' figure you're here lookin' to start something." Donnie slapped his cheek," That about right, tough guy?"
"No, no. I just figured we could reach an agreement."
"The agreement is, you stay away from Rita Lorenzo, or you're gonna' end up on your own doorstep. That is if your own people don't handle you first."
Montoya was confused. What was he talking about?
Donnie grinned, "You ain't too sharp, are you? Let me paint you a picture. You cross me and it's all out war. Disruption in the receipt, distribution and sale of your product resulting in a sizeable monetary loss to your bosses. Plus, you'll end up dead. You're a mid-man on your totem pole. Replaceable by the people who put you there. Me? I'm on the top of mine. Easier to replace a mameluke like you than deal with a boss like me."
A look of fear spread across his face. He would be risking all-out war, but he had to get his hands on her. He had his orders.
"Listen to me," Donnie said as he slapped him again, "you look at Rita funny and we'll be seeing each other again. Now, get outta' here and don't come back!"
Donnie Jr. had been leaning against the bar, watching the goings on. As Montoya and his men left he looked at his father.
"What now, Pops?"
"We see if his instinct to survive outweighs his desperation. My guess is he's too stupid to leave it alone."
"Look, Pops, I, uh, did something spur of the moment. The opportunity was there, so I jumped on it."
"Okay," Donnie said as he cleaned up his hand, "tell me about it."
Rita and Diana returned to the loft. On the way in they ran into a young, good looking man carrying a large box.
"Oh, I'm sorry, ladies. I didn't see you there." He shifted the box he was holding so they could pass.
"It's okay," Rita said. "New to the building or a roped into helping?"
"New," he responded as he shifted the box to his knee. Holding out his hand he introduced himself. "I'm Ryan. Ryan Tate."
Rita shook his hand. "I'm Rita and this is Diana," she said as Diana smiled and nodded.
"Well, nice to meet you both. I still have a way to go in unloading so I'll get back to it. See you around."
He was a good-looking kid. Tall and muscular with brown hair and very nice green eyes. Rita noticed Diana glancing back at him as they walked away.
"Maybe you should stay a while longer, D," Rita said as she grinned. "You could get to know young Mister Tate a little better."
"No little boys for me, Rita. They can't handle the adventure. Besides, I'm due back at work in three days."
"Yeah," Rita said, "and it will fly by."
"I've got everything, I think," Diana said, rolling her suitcase to the front door. "Are you sure you don't want to come with me?"
"I may get there eventually, D. But I agreed to stay here for the time being. And I am still a detective, you know? I haven't resigned…yet. Are you sure I can't drive you to the airport?"
"Absolutely. Who wants to deal with that if they don't have to?"
Diana hugged Rita. She was worried about her. About her being alone with her thoughts and just being alone in general. Rita was smart and tough. She was also pregnant, and Montoya was still on the prowl.
Rita walked her to the waiting Taxi and waved goodbye as it pulled away. Turning to go back into the building she ran right into Ryan.
"Hey, uh, Rita, right," he asked as he smiled broadly.
"Right. How's the move going?"
"Great. But this work horse needs fuel. Is there a good place to eat around here?"
"Yeah," she said as she pointed, "there's a nice little café about six blocks that way."
"Great. Hungry? I'd love to buy you lunch."
Rita rubbed her stomach. "No, thanks. We're a little more nappy than hungry."
"Another time, then." He turned, and she watched as he walked in the direction of the café.
Locking the door behind her, she leaned against it and sighed.
"It's just you and me again, love," she said as she rubbed her bump. "Let's go take a nap."
Outside, Ryan Tate listened for her door to be locked. Glancing both directions in the hallway he then retreated to his own apartment and waited.
"Rita, what are you doing here," Harry asked as he entered the bull pen. She wasn't due back for a few more weeks. He had made certain she would have all the time she needed.
"Oh, just thought I'd stop by. See how things are going. Do a little cursory chief of detectives check."
"Diana gone?"
"Yeah. She left a couple of days ago. I know what I should be doing. I just can't bring myself to start doing it."
"Do what? I can help," Holly said as she stood in the doorway of Harry's office. "I'm totally available."
"Holly," Rita said as she hugged her. "I appreciate that. I may take you up on it. But we'll need some muscle, too."
Holly shrugged, "That's what Michael's for."
"What am I for?" Detective Michael Price stood in the doorway. His face told them he knew, whatever it was, he would do well to follow their instructions.
"Muscle, Michael. Rita may need some when she starts…what are you doing," Holly asked as she realized she had no clue.
"Packing up the loft."
All three stopped and stared. This visit was taking a turn they did not care for.
"Packing? Rita, you agreed to stay so we could protect you." Harry was clearly concerned.
"She put her hands up. "Calm down. I'm doing it because Chris is everywhere I look. And because it will have to be done eventually. I'm also looking to rent a furnished apartment short term."
The three of them just stared at her. They each hoped she would follow what she said by telling them she was going to look for a house to buy in the area.
"Look, you guys, I don't know exactly what I am going to do. It's hard for me here. Chris is everywhere. When I have the baby, it will pain me even more to be here without him."
Returning to the loft, Rita was surprised to find Ryan standing outside her door.
"Hi, Ryan, how are you?"
He jumped at the sound of her voice. "Hey! I just stopped by to see if I could convince you to go to lunch this time."
Rita rubbed her shoulder as she did when she was nervous. "I appreciate that, Ryan, but I just ate, and I have things to do."
"Dinner, then?" He was persistent.
"Ryan...," Before she could finish he interrupted.
"Rita, you're a lovely woman and I'd like to get to know you better. I've noticed there hasn't been a guy around. And I don't think your lady friend is more than that."
Rita rubbed her stomach as the baby began to kick. Ryan noticed.
"For the record, I love kids. Truly. So, unless you have a husband or boyfriend that works a lot away from home, I see no reason for you to say no," he said as he smiled at her. "My mom raised a gentleman and I am pretty awesome."
Rita stared at him, contemplating what he had said and the young man in general. There was something more to him than just wanting to get to know her.
"Ryan, I'm a widow. Recently so."
He lost the smile he was wearing, and a look of sadness replaced it. Yet, somehow, Rita felt it was an act.
"I appreciate the offer for lunch. And I appreciate your interest. But that is something that's not on my mind right now. Maybe ever."
"Understood. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable."
She opened the door to the loft.
"It's okay," she said as she closed the door. Other women may find Ryan Tate quite charming. Rita was not other women.
Ryan stayed until he heard the locks click into the place. He then retreated to his own loft and waited once more.
Sleep did not come easily that night. Rita tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable, but too tired to get up. When she finally drifted off she dreamed of Chris and the night he was shot by Deborah Buchard.
She was terrified that she would lose him. Three days was how long she spent by his side, sleeping in a hospital chair and watching everything medical personnel did. Nothing else was going to happen to him.
By the second day she decided she would tell Chris how she really felt. That when Jillian had asked if she was his wife she wanted nothing more than to be able to say yes.
"Rita, Rita," he called to her from the hospital bed. "RITA! WAKE UP!"
Rita sat straight up in their bed. She could hear noises below her. Quietly leaning over to the night stand, she picked up her phone, dialed Captain Lipschitz's number and placed the phone back on the table.
Reaching under her pillow, she pulled out her gun. She could hear Harry calling her name.
"Rita? Rita? What's wrong? I'm on my way!"
She slipped from the bed and made her way down the stairs. Listening, she could tell the noise from coming from the kitchen and that it was a lone individual.
Silently, she went as far as the small landing. Kneeling, she slid over the side onto the floor. She was glad now that Chris hadn't put up the railings they talked about.
Her heart was pounding as she crept toward the back of the couch. Had she not been pregnant she would have headed straight for the kitchen. But she was determined to protect their baby, so her goal was the door.
Just as she reached the back of the couch a hand was clamped over her mouth.
"Shh. Shh. Don't struggle. You'll hurt the baby," a man whispered in her ear.
"Do you recognize my voice?"
She nodded.
"I'm not here to hurt you. My job is to protect you and your baby." With that, he removed his hand from her mouth. She turned around to find Ryan Tate kneeling behind her.
"Your job," she whispered angrily. "According to who?"
"How about we discuss that later? The guy in your kitchen works for Alejandro Montoya."
He crept in front of Rita, pit a finger to his lips, and took her hand. They moved toward the door which Rita now noticed was slightly ajar.
Pushing it open, her ushered her into the hallway. The light from the open door flooded the loft and the would-be burglar noticed.
"HEY," the man shouted as he pulled out his gun. He fired, barely missing Ryan.
Ryan continued out the door, pushed it closed, and grabbed Rita's hand once more. But, instead of heading them toward an exit, her turned her in the direction of his own apartment. Once inside, he quietly closed the door and pressed his ear to it. Listening intently, he could hear the man running down the hall toward the stairs. They could both hear the police sirens.
Turning back to Rita he said, "Cops are here. You're safe now."
"Put your hands up," she said, holding him at gunpoint.
Ryan raised his hands. "Well, this didn't go like I planned."
Ryan sat at the small table in the interrogation room. Rita and Holly stared at him from across the table as Harry and Michael paced behind them.
"Who are you," Rita asked. "FBI?"
Ryan smiled. "Definitely NOT FBI. I work for a private businessman who thinks very highly of you."
Rita's eyes widened. "You work for Donnie Dibarto?"
"Yeah, he does," DiBarto said from the open doorway.
Michael and Holly stood outside interrogation room two listening to the conversation. What they heard amazed them.
"Didn't Junior tell you I said to stop following me?"
"He did. He did. But he also told you he could only give me the message. Not control what I would do about it."
"So, you ignored it and had me followed anyway?"
"No. Junior rented an apartment in your building and we put one of our guys in it. This is Nick, by the way," he said. "We call him Nicco."
Rita sat and stared at Dogs. She was at a complete loss for words.
"Rita, he said as he sat next to her and took her hands in his, "from that first day I met you I knew you was something special."
"Donnie, I…,"
"Rita, listen to me, okay? Never, in all my life, have I ever met a lady like you. Especially not a cop. You're all class and you deserve to be happy. I know Lorenzo did that. Made you happy. I may not have gotten along with him, but I have to admit two things about him."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"He was smart enough to marry you. And he must have been a good man for you to marry him."
A single tear rolled down her cheek as he continued.
"I promised him, Rita. Standing at his grave, on sacred ground, I told him I would watch out for you and your bambino."
"I had plain clothes officers doing just that," Harry interrupted.
"Yeah, Harry? Where were they when Montoya's guy was breaking into her apartment? Or when she and Nicco was runnin' from him?"
"Donnie…," Harry was becoming agitated.
"I'm not gonna' split hairs with you, Harry. He got in and they never knew it."
Donnie and Nick stood to leave.
"You know where I am if you need help, Rita. In fact, you can stay at my house if you want."
"I can't do that, Donnie. I'm still a cop and I wouldn't be able to look the other way."
"See what I mean, Nicco? All class."
Nick glanced at Rita on his way out the door. "So, you know, Rita, I really am sorry about your husband. And thank you."
"For what"
"For not shooting me when you had the chance."
No one at PBPD had EVER heard Capt. Lipschitz yell that loudly. Or with so much anger.
"Explain to me how you two didn't realize Det. Lorenzo was in danger? What?! Were you playing cards? Eating? Sleeping?"
Det. Powers attempted to answer but Harry cut him off. "Shut up! I'm talking! Not only did he make it into her apartment, but you two…you two couldn't even catch him when he came out!"
He picked up his ringing phone "What is it? Really? That is interesting. Yeah, send them in."
Hanging up, he looked at the two men in front of him. He wore a smile like a predator who had finally caught their prey.
"And, just like that, all my questions are answered," he said, waving two more detectives into his office.
"You both know Swift and Allen with Internal Affairs."
"Stand up, gentlemen, and interlace your fingers behind your heads," Det. Allen said.
As the two men were handcuffed, Harry reach into their jackets and removed their weapons. Unloading and clearing them, he placed them on his desk, followed by their seconds. Then, he took their badges.
He stood in front of Det. DiMarco and looked him in the eye. He could not hide the disgust he was feeling.
"You and Chris graduated the academy together, Tony. He saved your life. Twice. This is how you honor that?
The man didn't say a word. He merely stared straight ahead. Not that anything he said could justify this.
As the two were escorted from Harry's office, DiMarco looked at Rita. "I'm so sorry, Rita. It wasn't supposed to happen this way!"
Harry sat next to Rita in his office. He explained what they had been able to learn about Towers and DiMarco.
"They'd been on the take from Jesus for over a year when he was killed. He compartmentalized because they had no idea about Quiller or his partner until they were being investigated. When Jesus died his brother continued their employment."
Rita twisted her wedding ring as she listened to him.
"The burglar didn't get caught because it was Towers. We can presume Jesus' brother compartmentalizes as well so we have no idea if there are more of his moles and those two disappointments can't tell us."
"What are you saying, Captain?"
"I am saying we need to pit you in protective custody. The only ones I trust, though, are myself, Holly and Michael. You can stay at my house."
"No, Cap, absolutely not. I don't want to put Fran in danger."
"All of the safe houses are known to too many in the department."
"Everyone in the department knows where you live. What's the difference?"
"Rita, we don't know what he thinks you have. Honestly, I have to wonder if it would make a difference if you had nothing."
"It wouldn't make a difference."
The woman's voice surprised them. Standing in the doorway was someone they didn't know. But she was someone they had both seen.
"You were had my husband's funeral. I wanted to ask how you knew him, but you were gone before I got the chance."
"My name is FBI Special Agent Sabine Francois," she said as she produced her identification.
Harry was staring at her intently. He didn't trust anyone at this point.
She smiled at him. "I understand your trepidation, Captain Lipschitz. FBI Director Paul awaits your call to verify my identity."
A phone call to FBI Headquarters in D.C. yielded the information Harry was looking for. Satisfied, he hung up the phone.
"Please," he said as he motioned to a chair, "have a seat."
He closed the door and asked, "What can you tell us?"
"You asked how I knew your husband, Det. Lorenzo. I actually met Chris the day you were kidnapped."
Rita was shocked. "He met with you? About the Montoya case?"
"The FBI had been watching the bank in the hopes of ferreting out Montoya if he sent a man for the evidence. You can imagine our surprise when we watched your husband walk out with it."
Rita shifted in her seat as the baby began to kick. It seemed to happen every time Chris was mentioned.
"At first, we thought Chris was another mole that had escaped our radar, so we checked on him. Chris was a stellar and completely clean cop."
The look of pride on both Rita and Harry's faces was obvious. They could not have asked for better than Christopher.
"We contacted him and asked him to meet," she continued. "He told us in no uncertain terms his only concern was the safe return of his wife and child. We offered to accompany but he declined out of concern for your safety. What he did do, however," she said as she reached into her pocket, "was give us a handful of these out of the bag."
Laying several small video cassettes on Harry's desk, she looked at Rita. "He felt safe doing so because Jesus would have no idea how many there actually were. We believe Alejandro knows these exist and he thinks you have them. I must hand it to your husband. He was going to save you AND get the bad guys."
"Chris didn't tell me about any of this. We never kept secrets. NEVER."
"Rita. May I call you Rita?"
Rita nodded as she brushed away a tear.
"Rita, I don't think he had the chance. We were the second phone call he received after the bank. He met with us, told us what he knew, gave us the tapes and ironed out a witness protection agreement in the span of about 20 minutes."
"Witness protection?"
"Should the need have risen he was prepared to take both of you," she glanced at Rita's bump, "into hiding."
"When Jesus Montoya was killed," she continued, "and Chris passed we presumed protection would no longer be necessary. Until word reached us that Alejandro had arrived in Palm Beach."
"So, do you have enough with what Chris gave you to take down Alejandro? Because Rita needs to get on with her life and prepare for the baby."
Agent Francois smiled at Harry again. He sounded more like a worried father than a police captain. It was nice to see. It gave her an even better idea of the kind of people the Lorenzo's were.
"Yes. But the situation is complicated."
Harry and Rita looked at one another and back at Francois.
"What does that mean," Rita asked.
"We've been after Montoya's supplier for years. He was just a little fish in a great big ocean of criminality. This group is in every state, every South American country and some parts of Europe. Jesus Montoya had access and a big mouth. The evidence on just these tapes could wipe out 60 to 80 percent of their business. It could cause a complete collapse."
Harry sat back in his chair. He was shocked by the scope of it.
"They have their hands in every conceivable illegal activity. Drugs, trafficking, weapons, poaching and much more. If it will make them money they'll do it."
She looked at them both. She wanted to convey the seriousness of the situation.
"We had hoped to fly under the radar with what we do have and take them down quietly. But they realized what was missing though they're confused about who has it. Bottom line not only will this not stop with Alejandro, but they're looking to make an example."
"I have a question," Harry interrupted. "How long has the FBI known Rita was in danger?"
Agent Francois looked at him. "That information is classified, Captain."
That told him everything he needed to know. They had been using Rita for bait.
"The FBI would like to officially bring you into the witness protection program, Rita. New home, identity, all of it."
"Take her away from her support system? Now? The baby will be here before we know it," Harry said worriedly. "Rita will be alone. No one to help her."
"I agree that it isn't ideal. But staying here would put all of you in danger. These people delight in making their enemy suffer. At the risk of being too frank, they would kill everyone she cares about and make her watch. Then they would kill her."
Rita's face was pale. She couldn't take it if something happened to any of them. They were her family. And she would do whatever she had to for the safety of their baby.
"Captain," Rita said as she reached across his desk and put her hand on his. "Harry…,"
"No. Rita, no. Stay. We can protect you. Don't…Frannie and I already lost Chris. We can't bear to lose you, too."
"Harry," tears rolled down her face, "this is the best way for all of us. I think you knew I would leave eventually. Being a cop is no job for a single mom."
Rita and agent Francois waited for Fran to arrive. Leaving without saying goodbye wouldn't be right.
While they waited Sabine explained she had been banking on Rita agreeing so she had the loft packed up already. All of it, including Chris' car, was placed into secure storage and would be sent to her once she was settled.
"What about my clothes?"
"Taken care of. There are two suitcases for you."
The goodbyes were tearful. Fran hugged her and wouldn't let go.
"Where will you live," she asked as she sniffled.
"I can't tell you that, Frannie."
"Oh. Well, will you tell us when you have the baby?"
"Frannie, honey," Harry said as he pried her off Rita, "she can't contact any of us. For any reason."
With that, Frannie began to sob. "We already lost Chris, Harry! We can't lose Rita and the baby!"
"Sweetie, this is for their safety. It's for the best."
Rita took a private moment with Holly, Michael and, finally, Harry.
"Harry, Chris always thought of you as more than just his boss. As do I. You know that, right?"
He nodded only because he couldn't speak.
"Fran," she continued, "was never just your wife. Chris always said she reminded him of his Grandma Rose. He loved her for that. Now, I have something very important to ask you."
Taking his hands in her own, she said "Chris and I talked about it. It's now even more important because I will be all the baby has."
He looked into those beautiful green eyes. They hadn't sparkled in quite a while. They were too full of sadness and loss.
"We wanted to ask if you and Fran would be the baby's godparents. I need to know, if anything happens to me…"
Harry put a finger to her lips, "Don't talk like that. Just know we would be honored. In fact,
we thought you'd never ask."
"I feel like I'm losing my daughter, Rita," he said as he hugged her.
She stepped back and held his hands again. "You haven't lost me. You've helped save us."
She turned and left the room. It was only then that Harry realized she had slipped her badge into his hand.
Joining Agent Francois, they walked toward the exit. She turned one last time to wave goodbye and, then, was gone.
The three officers and Fran stood still, not knowing what to do, what to say. The loss could be felt around the entire bullpen.
"You two," Harry said to Holly and Michael, "go home. We all need to take some time."
Across town, in a now abandoned crematorium on a dead-end street, Alejandro Montoya was tied to a chair. He was beaten, bloody and unconscious. A bucket of water changed that.
He could barely see as he looked around. His eyes were swollen and blood shot, his head was pounding, and it hurt to breathe. But his ears worked just fine.
"Hello, there, cupcake."
Montoya tensed at the sound of DiBarto's voice.
"You okay? Comfortable? Can I get you anything? A beverage, perhaps."
"I know it would be a waste of my time to try and make a deal," Montoya whispered.
"You're right."
"That you're angry over Rita Lorenzo."
"Right, again. Look at you. Why couldn't you have been this smart when I told you to leave her alone?"
"My men will come for me. They'll come for me and kill you."
"Your men are dead," Dogs hissed in his ear, "and you're next."
Montoya heard the furnace fire up behind him. A look of absolute terror spread across his face.
"You won't get away with this! The people I answer to will come for you!"
"The people you answer to are scrambling to save themselves from the FBI."
Donnie took the gun his guy handed him and cocked it. He grabbed Montoya by the hair on
the back of his head and pulled.
"Now," he said, "the only question is do I put you in dead or alive?"
Two days later, Harry and George Donovan stood in stunned silence. The crash had been all over the news.
"Investigators say the collision with the propane truck caused the wreckage to burn with such intensity that it will take weeks to identify victims through dental recognition. Back to you, Tom."
"Andrea. Andrea, we can see FBI agents working the crash behind you. Isn't it a bit unusual for them to be involved in investigations like this?"
"Yes, Tom, that is true. This incident is of special interest as some victims were, themselves, agents. Now, they won't tell us what those agents were tasked with. They will only say it was of a confidential nature. Tom?"
"Thank you, Andrea. Stay tuned for local sports and weather."
Harry powered off the TV and turned to address the officers and staff in the bullpen.
"I have been in contact with the FBI. They confirmed…," his voice cracked with emotion and he couldn't go on.
Picking up where Harry stopped, George Donovan continued. "They confirmed that it was Chief of Detectives Rita Lorenzo's transport. It was en route to its destination and Rita…," George began to cry. "Rita was among those lost in the crash."
The shock in the room was palpable. This meant they had lost both Lorenzo's and their baby in the span of just a few months. Some of the officers could only stare in stunned silence while others cried and comforted one another.
"I didn't get to tell her goodbye, Harry. I never…," George's voice trailed off.
In an elevator thousands of miles away a pregnant woman and her attractive red-haired friend exited on the floor to their hotel room. Carrying the luggage as she walked behind her pregnant friend, her eyes darted everywhere, watching everything and everyone.
The pregnant woman unlocked the door and they both entered. She remained by the door as the red head checked the bathroom, the main room, under the beds, and behind the curtains. Once she verified it was safe the pregnant woman sat, exhausted, on one of the beds.
"Well, Mrs. Preston, are you hungry," Sabine asked as she picked up the room service menu.
"I'm too tired to think about food. I just want to go to sleep."
"Okay. Get some rest and we'll pick it up tomorrow."
Rita awoke the next day feeling rested and very hungry. Sabine called and placed their order while Rita took a much-needed shower.
They sat together at the small table and ate breakfast while talking about this new place that would be Rita and the baby's home. Rita looked out the window and watched the trees swaying gently in the soft breeze. It was beautiful here.
"I don't feel right about what was done," she said as she looked at Sabine. "It's enough that I left. Now, all my friends think the baby and I are dead."
"I understand, but…"
"I don't think you do. You really have no idea how raw everyone still is. Not just me but all our friends. Harry and Fran may as well have lost their son. That's how much Chris meant to them. Now they believe I, and his baby, have been killed."
"Rita, the circumstances this go round were unique. We are dealing with a global criminal organization that literally has an army of highly trained assassins. We had real concerns about straight witness protection for you. This simply added an extra layer."
"That reminds me," Rita said, "answer the question Harry asked. How long did you know?"
Sabine sat back in her chair and sighed. "I'm not the first agent to oversee this case. Before me there was Jackson Stepford. Things hadn't been adding up for a while. Stings were going sideways. Some evidence came up missing. When I discovered Stepford had known for weeks that Alejandro was looking for you I went to Director Paul. We both thought he was using you to get Montoya. Breaking this cartel up…something like that makes an FBI legend. One that can write their own ticket. Director Paul gave me the green light to do a deep dive on Stepford's activities. That's when I found out he was on the cartel's payroll. He wasn't using you as bait. He left you to the wolves."
She could see the concern on Rita's face. "I couldn't tell you all this when I first met with you. The only name Captain Lipschitz needs to know is mine."
Rita was dumfounded. Until that moment she did not understand the reach they had. Or the lengths to which they would go.
"Given all of that," Sabine continued, "the Director and I agreed this was the best way to go. Stepford didn't know the FBI had the tapes. I can only presume he was charged with getting them back from whomever had them. Going after you was about that and making a point."
"Where is Stepford now," Rita asked.
"He was found with a bullet in his head the day after I took over." Sabine was matter of fact about it. She noticed the look on Rita's face. "As far as I'm concerned, he was no better than the cartel."
"What about you? You supposedly died, too."
"I don't have any family, Rita. A change of hair color, colored contacts and an official name change. Easy, peasy."
Sabine pulled a manila envelope from her own luggage. Removing its contents, she laid them out on the table for Rita to better see them.
"This is your new house," Sabine said as she pointed to a realtor's print out. "It comes with five acres and mature fruit trees."
"Five acres? I can't keep a plant alive and you think I can handle five acres?"
"No worries. Landscaping will be handled by an undercover agent. It will also allow us to keep you safe."
"Here is your new driver's license, passport, birth certificate and concealed carry permit. That's good in all 50 states and the District of Columbia, I might add. You don't strike me as the type that likes to go unarmed."
"You are very perceptive," Rita replied.
Sabine leaned back again and stared at Rita. Her pager went off. Glancing at it she began to speak.
"Rita, I want to tell you about that day with Chris. Are you ready to hear it?"
The baby kicked on cue. "I think I need to hear it."
"Stepford wasn't there so I was in charge. Chris was determined when he met with us. He told us before he even got out of the car that we'd have to shoot him to stop him. I made the deal with him to bring both of you here. To let him do his part and get you back from Montoya. Then I would do mine and get you to safety. We knew Jesus couldn't be trusted. That he would try and kill both of you rather than leave a witness of any kind. We also knew from experience that his bullet of choice was cop killers. I gave him one of our vests and he was gone."
Rita thought that strange. Why would Sabine have given him a vest? Chris didn't work without one to begin with.
"The next time we heard anything," Sabine continued, "Chris had been shot and Jesus was being hunted. I had already begun investigating Stepford. The things I found caused concern. The kind that made me believe Chris was still in danger. And not necessarily from Montoya."
Rita listened intently as the baby practically danced. She also had butterflies and a sense that something was about to happen.
"I was at the hospital the night you lost him, Rita."
She stared into Sabine's eyes.
"I went to talk to the doctors. To see if there was a chance. Really, I wanted to know if the good guy was going to get his reward. Chris, and you, deserved it."
Sabine took a drink of her coffee and continued. "The staff who had been treating him said the extra vest had been his lifesaver. The bullets had not penetrated deep enough to cause real, or terminal, damage. I installed an FBI physician. He administered drugs to Chris through his IV that simulate cardiac arrest and death. It had to be completely convincing. I also placed an agent at the funeral home as a director. His job was to convince you to do a grave site service so that the casket would be closed."
Rita's eyes widened in horror. "Why?! Why would you do that?!"
"I wasn't in charge yet, Rita. Chris was a loose end Stepford would try to clean up and, until I had the evidence to get him booted, he had complete access to Chris. Because he was still lead, I couldn't just pluck you out of the situation. That would have sent up all number of red flags for Jackson. Faking his death was the best way to protect Chris and you."
It took a moment for Rita to process what Sabine was telling her. Was she saying Chris was alive?
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation and Sabine rose to answer it. Rita could hear her speaking with two men. The door closed, and Sabine returned to the room.
"Rita, I'd like to introduce you to Sam Preston."
Eight years later, a now retired Harry Lipschitz sat on a beach in Hawaii with his wife. They watched the waves and talked about the son, daughter and grandchild they lost.
"Chris wanted to bring her here for their honeymoon, but he couldn't afford it. He had been making plans for an anniversary instead."
"That baby would have been so beautiful, Harry. They would have been wonderful parents."
Harry turned to face his wife. He hugged her as she cried quietly against his chest. Some ways down the beach he could see a family playing in the sand. The man and woman each picked up the two smallest children who weren't even old enough to walk. The other three children ran ahead of them, splashing in the surf, and laughing.
One of the little girls wandered up to Harry and Fran. When she saw Fran crying she handed her the flower that had been in her hair.
"Why are you sad," she asked.
Fran laughed a little as she took the flower.
"We were just talking about our son and daughter," Fran answered.
"And that made you sad?"
"Well, they died, and we miss them."
The little girl placed her hand on Fran's cheek.
"Our ohana is always with us in here," she whispered as she pointed to her heart with her other hand.
"What's your name, honey," Fran asked.
"Christy."
She was a beautiful little girl. About seven or eight with long brown hair and stunning blue eyes. Eyes that Harry and Fran thought they had seen before.
"Where are your parents," Harry inquired.
"Right there," she said as she pointed down the beach. "My mama said there was treasure here so we all came to find it."
With that, she was running back down the beach yelling for her parents to come and meet her new friends. Stopping in between to yells to collect shells she finally reached them, grabbed her dad by the hand and began pulling him along.
Her family in tow, Christy returned to Harry and Fran.
"Mama, Daddy, this is my new auntie and uncle. Auntie, Uncle, this is my Mama and Daddy."
Fran and Harry could not see the adults faces clearly in the sun.
"They're sad," she continued, "because they miss their ohana."
"Christy," her mother said, "you did it! You found the treasure!"
As her parents knelt beside the older couple, the sun glinted off a pendant Christy's mom was wearing. Harry recognized the silhouette of mother and child.
"I'm Sam. Sam Preston," Christy's dad said as he put out his hand. "And this is my wife, Samantha."