Part 4:
*
He sits in the back of the ambulance, staring at his hands. He doesn't know why, exactly, but he's wondering how the hell he's gonna get it off. Too much blood -- always too much. Kim kneels behind him, a hand on his shoulder.
"There's nothing you could've done, Bosco. It was a fatal wound."
"Yeah, " he says, not believing it.
She pats his shoulder once more, smiles to the back of his head, and steps out in front of him.
Then his eyes catch sight of the last person he wants to see right now. Lambert's face has an undreadable expression, though it's bad, and he sits up straighter.
"Boscorelli, we gotta talk."
"I'm already sittin' down so go ahead."
"I would prefer --"
"Just spill it, huh?"
"Did you discharge your weapon at all in the warehouse?"
"No. Why?"
Lambert looks down, scuffs his shoe against the concrete, looks back up and sighs.
"The bullet we found -- it matches your gun."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're in deep shit."
*
"None of this looks good for you, Boscorelli. First, your partner goes missing, then the Officer she rode with last week ends up dead -- in the backseat of your car, mind you -- now, we find out this bullet was discharged from your gun."
"Why the hell would I have shot her? What the fuck kinda sense does that make? What, I shoot her, then knock myself out with a pipe? Yeah, I'm a fuckin' criminal mastermind, you better put me in solitary."
Bosco shouts, rage in his eyes, burning daggers at anyone who dares to look.
"Look, Boscorelli, I'll give you that. It doesn't make any sense, but the fact is, the evidence is telling us the bullet came from your gun, the gun that went missing, the one that was found in a puddle of the victim's --"
Bosco lunges forward, his face looming dangerously close to the detective's.
"What the hell did you say?"
"Victim?"
"Don't you ever - EVER - call her that! She's missing, she's not a fuckin' victim!"
Lambert's hands go up defensively. "My apologies, Boscorelli. We found your gun in a puddle of Yokas's blood and what I'm saying is, none of this looks good in a court of law."
"I'm bein' put on trial?"
"It may come to that."
"Well, how about we deal with it if it comes to that. In the meantime, you chargin' me with something or can I go?"
"Nothin' to charge you with. I'm the senior detective on this case and if it makes you feel any better, Boscorelli, there's not a doubt in my mind that you didn't do it."
Bosco's already halfway out the door, then turns and speaks once more.
"Thanks, Lambert, I'll be sleepin' all warm and cozy tonight."
*
Sullivan's hand signals the waiter over, waits as three more beers are placed before them.
"Nothin' like gettin' trashed on a Friday night."
"Yeah, 'specially when you're partner's probably dead and it's all your fault."
Sullivan and Davis pass a look between them, worried about their friend. Bosco's bottle raises halfway, a bitter smirk on his face.
"A toast -- to me! The world's best partner. You wanna die fast, just find your way to Maurice Boscorelli, I'll guarantee you a world of pain. Yep, I'll ruin your marriage, alienate your kids for you --"
"Bosco, man, look at me. Look at me. This isn't even close to bein' your fault. Not even close. Some bastard took her -- he's the one responsible for this."
Bosco sips his beer again, half-convinced, half-gone in his own private guilt-ridden abyss.
*
"God, it doesn't seem fair, does it?"
Alex stares ahead, barely hearing Kim's voice as she breaks the silence. They've been doing less talking and more thinking lately. Thinking of their friend, the one they've started believing in their hearts might never come back.
"It never is."
Kim eases a hand from the steering wheel, perches it by the window, leaning into it.
"I can't imagine what Bosco must be going through, " Alex says, her eyes never leaving the road ahead.
"I can't either -- I mean, losing Bobby hurt like hell, but at least I didn't have to wait for days and days. That would've been worse, I think -- just waiting around, thinking about all the things that could happen. When it's that quick, you're not thinking about anything. When you have to sit and wait, you start thinking too much."
"Yeah. I can't believe it. It just never ends -- none of it. We gotta get her back, Kim. I can't lose a friend like this."
"I can't either."
"And, God, if she doesn't come back, I don't wanna be anywhere near Bosco when they find the bastards who took her."
"None of us do, but hell, who could blame him?"
*
"How long this guy Lambert been a detective?"
"I don't know, why?"
"He's rubbin' me wrong."
"What, he don't appreciate your charming personality, Bosco?"
"Sully, I'm serious."
Sullivan finishes buttoning his shirt, throws his locker closed, stands up and moves towards Bosco.
"I'm sorry, I know you're just edgy right now, but as far as I know, this guy's good, he's got a clean record."
"Who brought him in?"
"Christopher."
Bosco's face registers an obvious disgust as he too closes his locker, slinging his bag loosely over his shoulder and follows Sullivan.
"I don't like that guy."
"Which one?"
"Both of 'em."
"Yeah, well, what're you gonna do?"
He taps Sully's arm. "Just keep doing my best to win 'em over with that charming personality of mine."
"Yeah, you keep believin' that, it might come true. Listen, you wanna grab a bite with the gang, Davis and I are heading out?"
"Nah, thanks, I've got a date."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, me and a guy named Jack Daniels."
*
The television is turned down low, his body leaning close to the screen so he can see every little detail, right down to the way her hair chose to fall that particular day. He ignores the significant pile of dishes and laundry, the half-eaten dinner growing cold with neglect. Those things, he thinks, are immaterial right now.
All he's gotta do his breathe and find her and things will start falling into place again. It couldn't have been taped more than a year ago and he smiles at her carefree innocence reflecting so vividly on the screen, a side of her he's thankful he got to catch and preserve for eternity on film, just in case -- in case she never comes back.
Her hand goes to the camera as he films her, her voice filled with laughter as she sips her drink.
"Get that thing outta my face, Bos. Go film someone who's gonna flatter the camera."
"I'm lookin' at her."
"Hah. Don't think I'm buyin' lunch tomorrow just for that."
"Nah, I figured that comment would get me a mid-afternoon snack."
Please, he thinks, don't let this be my last memory of her.
*
TBC...
*
He sits in the back of the ambulance, staring at his hands. He doesn't know why, exactly, but he's wondering how the hell he's gonna get it off. Too much blood -- always too much. Kim kneels behind him, a hand on his shoulder.
"There's nothing you could've done, Bosco. It was a fatal wound."
"Yeah, " he says, not believing it.
She pats his shoulder once more, smiles to the back of his head, and steps out in front of him.
Then his eyes catch sight of the last person he wants to see right now. Lambert's face has an undreadable expression, though it's bad, and he sits up straighter.
"Boscorelli, we gotta talk."
"I'm already sittin' down so go ahead."
"I would prefer --"
"Just spill it, huh?"
"Did you discharge your weapon at all in the warehouse?"
"No. Why?"
Lambert looks down, scuffs his shoe against the concrete, looks back up and sighs.
"The bullet we found -- it matches your gun."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're in deep shit."
*
"None of this looks good for you, Boscorelli. First, your partner goes missing, then the Officer she rode with last week ends up dead -- in the backseat of your car, mind you -- now, we find out this bullet was discharged from your gun."
"Why the hell would I have shot her? What the fuck kinda sense does that make? What, I shoot her, then knock myself out with a pipe? Yeah, I'm a fuckin' criminal mastermind, you better put me in solitary."
Bosco shouts, rage in his eyes, burning daggers at anyone who dares to look.
"Look, Boscorelli, I'll give you that. It doesn't make any sense, but the fact is, the evidence is telling us the bullet came from your gun, the gun that went missing, the one that was found in a puddle of the victim's --"
Bosco lunges forward, his face looming dangerously close to the detective's.
"What the hell did you say?"
"Victim?"
"Don't you ever - EVER - call her that! She's missing, she's not a fuckin' victim!"
Lambert's hands go up defensively. "My apologies, Boscorelli. We found your gun in a puddle of Yokas's blood and what I'm saying is, none of this looks good in a court of law."
"I'm bein' put on trial?"
"It may come to that."
"Well, how about we deal with it if it comes to that. In the meantime, you chargin' me with something or can I go?"
"Nothin' to charge you with. I'm the senior detective on this case and if it makes you feel any better, Boscorelli, there's not a doubt in my mind that you didn't do it."
Bosco's already halfway out the door, then turns and speaks once more.
"Thanks, Lambert, I'll be sleepin' all warm and cozy tonight."
*
Sullivan's hand signals the waiter over, waits as three more beers are placed before them.
"Nothin' like gettin' trashed on a Friday night."
"Yeah, 'specially when you're partner's probably dead and it's all your fault."
Sullivan and Davis pass a look between them, worried about their friend. Bosco's bottle raises halfway, a bitter smirk on his face.
"A toast -- to me! The world's best partner. You wanna die fast, just find your way to Maurice Boscorelli, I'll guarantee you a world of pain. Yep, I'll ruin your marriage, alienate your kids for you --"
"Bosco, man, look at me. Look at me. This isn't even close to bein' your fault. Not even close. Some bastard took her -- he's the one responsible for this."
Bosco sips his beer again, half-convinced, half-gone in his own private guilt-ridden abyss.
*
"God, it doesn't seem fair, does it?"
Alex stares ahead, barely hearing Kim's voice as she breaks the silence. They've been doing less talking and more thinking lately. Thinking of their friend, the one they've started believing in their hearts might never come back.
"It never is."
Kim eases a hand from the steering wheel, perches it by the window, leaning into it.
"I can't imagine what Bosco must be going through, " Alex says, her eyes never leaving the road ahead.
"I can't either -- I mean, losing Bobby hurt like hell, but at least I didn't have to wait for days and days. That would've been worse, I think -- just waiting around, thinking about all the things that could happen. When it's that quick, you're not thinking about anything. When you have to sit and wait, you start thinking too much."
"Yeah. I can't believe it. It just never ends -- none of it. We gotta get her back, Kim. I can't lose a friend like this."
"I can't either."
"And, God, if she doesn't come back, I don't wanna be anywhere near Bosco when they find the bastards who took her."
"None of us do, but hell, who could blame him?"
*
"How long this guy Lambert been a detective?"
"I don't know, why?"
"He's rubbin' me wrong."
"What, he don't appreciate your charming personality, Bosco?"
"Sully, I'm serious."
Sullivan finishes buttoning his shirt, throws his locker closed, stands up and moves towards Bosco.
"I'm sorry, I know you're just edgy right now, but as far as I know, this guy's good, he's got a clean record."
"Who brought him in?"
"Christopher."
Bosco's face registers an obvious disgust as he too closes his locker, slinging his bag loosely over his shoulder and follows Sullivan.
"I don't like that guy."
"Which one?"
"Both of 'em."
"Yeah, well, what're you gonna do?"
He taps Sully's arm. "Just keep doing my best to win 'em over with that charming personality of mine."
"Yeah, you keep believin' that, it might come true. Listen, you wanna grab a bite with the gang, Davis and I are heading out?"
"Nah, thanks, I've got a date."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, me and a guy named Jack Daniels."
*
The television is turned down low, his body leaning close to the screen so he can see every little detail, right down to the way her hair chose to fall that particular day. He ignores the significant pile of dishes and laundry, the half-eaten dinner growing cold with neglect. Those things, he thinks, are immaterial right now.
All he's gotta do his breathe and find her and things will start falling into place again. It couldn't have been taped more than a year ago and he smiles at her carefree innocence reflecting so vividly on the screen, a side of her he's thankful he got to catch and preserve for eternity on film, just in case -- in case she never comes back.
Her hand goes to the camera as he films her, her voice filled with laughter as she sips her drink.
"Get that thing outta my face, Bos. Go film someone who's gonna flatter the camera."
"I'm lookin' at her."
"Hah. Don't think I'm buyin' lunch tomorrow just for that."
"Nah, I figured that comment would get me a mid-afternoon snack."
Please, he thinks, don't let this be my last memory of her.
*
TBC...