Cleaning Up Chapter 1

"Is Chris Sanford going to be all right?" Bailey asks as John shoves his phone back into his pocket.

"It's still touch and go. He lost a lot of blood before Lucy found him. She called his parents, but they're out of town, and it will take a while for them to make it back. So she's going to be staying with him at the hospital."

"Is she going to need anything, clothes or something?" Bailey wonders. "Lucy's a couple of inches taller than I am, but some of my things might fit her."

"Tamara's going to bring Lucy her stuff from their apartment. I'll stop by the hospital later and see how she's doing. But right now I'm willing to bet she wants to know how Rosalind got all the details of our lives like that. Who the hell gives a serial killer access to social media? Her lawyer would have been able to see Rosalind, but not bring her a phone or a computer. And she shouldn't have had access to any electronics at the prison. She wasn't even allowed to leave her cell. Somehow, Rosalind put together a new network of apprentices or whatever they are, and they're still out there, probably relaying information to her and setting up her next kills. We need to find them before one of them seals someone in a drum the way Caleb did to Lucy."

"John, that's a job for detectives. You're going to be a training officer now. That's how you decided to use your golden ticket – unless you change your mind. You could still go for detective or anything you want."

Nolan shakes his head. "No, I want to be a training officer. Tim Bradford told me that's the noblest thing a cop can be, a sacred trust."

"And then he became a sergeant and a field supervisor," Bailey points out.

"True enough," Rick allows, "but I think he saw training Lucy as finishing up that segment of his life. I was with him when we were providing support on one of her undercover assignments. He was very proud of the job he did with her. I can understand that. But anyway, I trusted Detective Armstrong, saw him as a mentor and a friend. And when he turned out to be dirty, I guess it soured me a little on being a detective. Or maybe it was sour grapes when I thought I could never be one. Still, regardless of what Bradford finally decided to do, I want to be a training officer. But that aside, Rosalind has a weird interest in me. You were there when she called me. It's like she sees me as some kind of boy scout and she's challenged to try and turn me or something."

"A female Palpatine trying to turn her apprentice to the dark side?" Bailey offers.

"That's what Rosalind does, isn't it, turn people to the dark side?" John considers.

"And who would she see turning as more of a triumph than you, John? Pope Francis?"

John laughs in spite of himself. "I hope she doesn't have his cell number. But with Rosalind, you never know. Still, if I do continue to be her target, maybe detectives like Lopez and Harper can use that. They can look at her contacts with me or people she pushes toward me, as a way to track down the dupes she's caught in her spell. I should talk to Lopez about that. She'll probably want to go to the hospital and question Lucy to try and determine how Rosalind got to Chris. I can meet her there, and we can figure out how she can use me against Rosalind."

"That could get you killed, John."

"So could breaking up a domestic dispute or making a traffic stop, just like running into a fire could get you killed. But playing on being Rosalind's center of attention may actually be safer. I don't think she'll try to kill me until she's done toying with me."

Bailey blows out a deep breath. "I hope you're right."

Chris opens his eyes as Lucy brushes the hair back from his forehead. "Hi."

She smiles down at the slightly less pale face against the hospital pillow. "Hi. How are you feeling?"

"My arms hurt, but better, stronger."

"The doctors pumped a lot of blood back into you. They said you were in hypovolemic shock. If Tim and I had found you five minutes later, they might not have been able to bring you back."

Chris' eyes narrow. "Wait, Bradford was there?"

"He and I were coming back from an undercover assignment. I just asked him in for some, uh, coffee or something. Then we found you. It's a good thing he was there. A call from a sergeant can get emergency services moving faster. And we could each put pressure on one of your wrists until the paramedics came. His being there might have saved your life."

Chris' fingers fist under the covers. "Then I suppose I should be grateful. Next time you talk to him, tell him I said thanks."

"I will. But that won't be for a while. I was working 24/7 on my assignment, so I have a few days off. And I'm going to take care of you. Oh, and I called your parents. They should be here any minute now."

"So all I had to do to get you to talk to my parents was get attacked by a serial killer. I should have thought of that sooner," Chris teases. "I hope you told them I'm going to be all right."

"They demanded that the doctor do that. She did. So they know. But they still wanted to come right away."

"Lucy, I know you were hesitant to meet them," Chris confides. "If you want to cut out for a while, maybe get something to eat, while they're here, I'll understand."

"I'm not going anywhere," Lucy declares. "Tamara brought me my go bag. I have everything I need until they let you out of here. And then I'm going to make sure you have everything you need to heal."

Chris shrugs. "If you're positive that's what you want to do."

"Absolutely positive."

A middle-aged couple appears in the doorway before rushing into the room. Mrs. Sanford regards her son before looking back at her husband. "See, I told you we should have stayed in Hawaii. We bring up our son in Los Angeles and look what happens. He could have bled to death."

"Which is what you said when he cut himself on a conch shell when he was six," Mr. Sanford retorts. "He was fine then, and the doctor said he'll be fine now."

Mrs. Sanford gazes across the bed. "You must be Lucy Chen. Chris hasn't been able to stop talking about you. We wanted you to come for Christmas, but Chris said you were on duty and couldn't make it."

At hearing his lie recounted, Chris flashes Lucy a beseeching look. "That's right, Mrs. Sanford. I wanted to come," she claims, "but I'm only a P2. The officers with more seniority get more holidays off. But I have time now so I can spend it taking care of Chris."

Kai Sanford catches his wife in a husbandly gaze. "See, Malia, no need to go lolo. Lucy will stay with Chris and give him whatever he needs, won't you Lucy?"

"Whatever he needs," Lucy echoes. "I promise."