Chapter 4
Laughing together, Spence and Stella walked back into the bullpen just as the phone rang.
Spence picked up the phone. "DI Jordan, Cold Case Unit."
A relaxed Stella sat down, putting her feet up on the desk. It was great to have an unhurried lunch for a change, instead of eating and running as they normally did. They'd all been celebrating a good review from Boyd and commiserating with the DSI, in his absence, as he was being grilled by the ACC.
The good mood didn't last long. Spence's smile disappeared and his jaw clenched. The conversation didn't last long with his answers short and curt, but she could tell that something bad happened. Stella sat back up. Perhaps a horrible new case, she wondered.
Spence put the phone down and quietly said, "It's Boyd. He's been hit by a car."
"Merde!" The DC swore then recited a quick prayer for her boss. "Is he okay?"
"I don't know. Won't tell me. All they said was that he's gone to hospital."
Both looked toward Grace's office; her door was closed, but they knew that the profiler was in there.
"You have to tell her." Stella's heart went out to Grace. She always felt it hard to tell complete stranger that their loved ones had been in an accident. How the hell do you tell a friend the same thing? She had no answers and didn't envy Spence at all.
"I know." Sighing, Spence knocked on Grace's door and waited for her to respond. Sometimes he hated being a senior officer. If Boyd was out, it meant some of the worse jobs fell to him, none more so than when he had to tell Frankie about Mel's death.
"Come in, Spence." Just then, her phone rang, and Grace waved the DI in before answering her phone. "Grace Foley."
While Grace answered the phone, Spence rehearsed what he was going to say to Grace, deciding to just come out and tell her. It's what she'd have wanted.
"Yes, I am." The colour drained from Grace's face. When the Personnel officer had said the dreaded 'Are you the next of kin of …?' her heart froze, as so many horrific scenarios sprung to mind. "Oh God! Peter …."
Spence realized that she'd just heard the news. All the Traffic inspector had said was that he'd been in an RTA but nothing about his condition. It was only a courtesy to the CCU.
"Is he …?" A moment later, Grace sighed with relief. He'd been alive when the ambulance had taken him to hospital, but that was all the PO knew. The profiler closed her eyes and said a silent prayer to anything or anyone that would listen. "Which hospital?" She paused. "Thank you." She hung up the phone.
Looking dazed, Grace grabbed her handbag and coat but stopped in front of Spence. It was only then that she remembered that he was standing just inside her door. "Spence … sorry … I've got to go."
"I know about the boss. I was just told by Traffic." Spence pointed to the door. "Grace, we'll drive you there."
Stella had their coats and was ready to go. She'd rung Eve, telling her to hold the fort with the promise to ring her as soon as they had any information.
Knowing she was not fit to drive, Grace thanked them and they left CCHQ.
The journey to the hospital was understandably quiet.
--
Organized chaos greeted them as they walked into the Emergency department. All the cubicles were full and the doctors, nurses and paramedics were helping the injured or sick people.
Grace waited until the ward clerk got off the phone. "My name is Grace Foley. I was told my partner, Peter Boyd, was brought here after he was hit …." Grace choked on the words and her hand flew to her mouth. With tears welling in her eyes, it became too much and for a moment she thought her emotions might overwhelm her. Peter had to be all right. She didn't think she was strong enough to survive losing another man she loved after her husband had died 10 years ago. From somewhere deep inside, she gathered herself and after a deep breath, she continued, "After he was hit by a car."
After hearing Grace's voice crumble, Stella stepped forward, and wrapped an arm around her, silently comforting her.
The ward clerk was tired and emotional drained. He'd already dealt with 4 grieving families from patients that hadn't made it. They treated so many RTAs every day that one patient was merging into another. He had no idea who the man was. "Peter Boyd?"
"Yes."
"Date of Birth?"
"July 15th, 1950."
"Cubicle 2. Dr Chen." The clerk pointed over his shoulder. "Over there."
"Thank you."
The team headed over to the bay but the curtain was drawn. A collective sigh could be heard when they recognized Boyd's slightly annoyed voice, loud and clear, from the other side of the curtain.
Grace pulled back the curtain and entered the bay to find a doctor talking to Peter.
Looking like a mess, Boyd was propped up, lying on the hospital bed in a hospital gown with a large bandage wrapped around his head and his left arm in a sling. Dried blood stained his hair, face and neck. There were nasty scrapes covering his knees and his right elbow that oozed blood.
"Peter?" His appearance shocked her but in the back of the mind, she knew that it would have been a lot worse. He could be in surgery fighting for his life, or even lying in the morgue as so many RTA victims ended up.
Before Peter got a chance to say anything, Dr Chen turned to Grace. "Ah, Mrs Boyd?"
"Not yet but close enough. I'm Grace Foley," Grace said with a wry smile, her eyes not leaving Boyd, pleased that he smiled back at her. Someday they may make it official, but for now she was just happy to see him alive, albeit a little worse for wear.
"Sorry, Ms Foley. Mr Boyd will be all right. Scans show no brain damage, but he does have a mild concussion. X-rays also show no broken bones." Chen was pleased to be giving out good news for a change. "Other than a cut on the head, a badly bruised left arm and some other minor scrapes and bruises, I'd say Mr Boyd got off lightly." Chen closed his notes and then smiled. "I know he's a policeman, but he's not superman. Remind him of that the next time he wants to play the hero."
"Hero?"
Boyd rolled his eyes. He didn't feel like a hero. It was something any one else would have done in similar circumstances. Now he just felt sore and tired.
"Apparently he …." He'd heard the story from the paramedics who treated him.
In no mood, Boyd cut him off. "Doctor!"
"Sorry," Chen apologized. Mr Boyd's clear and threatening tone shut him up very quickly. "The nurse will dress the scrapes soon. I'll be back in an hour with your pain medication and rehab notes, then we can discharge you.'
"Thank you, Doctor."
Chen left the bay, closing the curtain behind them, leaving Boyd and Grace alone.
Tentatively, Grace neared Boyd.
Unable to hide completely the pain of any sort of movement, he reached out, took her hand in his, and squeezed it gently, needing to reassure her that he was fine. "Grace, I'll be okay." Grace's beautiful face was full of worry and getting that phone call must have been horrible. It wasn't his intention to cause Grace any distress. He couldn't stand that. "I'm sorry. I had …."
"Shhh. I know." The grimace of pain on Boyd's face hadn't gone unnoticed by Grace. She stepped a bit closer and gently put his hand back by his side, not wanting to cause him any further pain, and then her hand caressed his cheek. "But don't ever do that again." It was pointless saying that, as she knew it was going to happen again because of the type of man Boyd was.
"I promise."
Leaning in closer, she kissed him gently on the lips. "Now tell me what happened."
--
TBC
