10
It Had to be You
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Chapter 19
"You're looking pleased with yourself," commented Mark when he spotted Sue entering the kitchen area of the shelter.
"I do?" she deposited her purse in the closet for the volunteers.
"Very pleased," he asserted. "Anything interesting happened since Thursday?" If her glow was any indication, the little divine intervention was very successful.
Sue eyed her friend certain he had a hand in bringing Bobby and she together. "If we weren't in public, I would throw my arms around you and kiss you."
"I don't know if you should do that in private either. I'm a priest, remember?" he grinned lopsidedly.
"No, I don't. You're just Mark to me."
"I'll take that as a compliment," he said decidedly. "So I take it this FBI agent is the guy you told me about?"
"Yes."
"And the reason why you ran away in the first place has been resolved?"
"I didn't run away."
"You didn't stay."
"I was…"
"Father Dancy!" a voice overwhelmed Sue's.
"Yes, Joe?" Mark pointed in the direction of the speaker.
"Need your help. Problem with one of the guys."
"Coming." He turned back to Sue. "We'll continue this conversation later."
Other volunteers began to drift in. Greetings and waves filled the air as belongings were stored and aprons donned.
The first of the diners began filtering in. Bits of conversations floated back and forth and soon it became busy.
"Hi, Richie!" greeted Sue. She looked around. "Where's Eric?"
A worried frown was on the man's forehead. "I need to talk to you about him, Sue."
"Is anything wrong?" A matching look of concern appeared on her face.
"That's what I need to talk you about."
Aware of the line backing up, she nodded. "After I'm done here."
"Fine. I'll wait for you."
What could the problem be? she wondered as she continued to serve. Was he on another binge? When life became too much for Eric, he drank. Combined with his diabetes, it was not a good combination. Was he lying somewhere in need of their help?
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"All teams are in place," announced Tara as the final team checked in.
"And now we wait," commented Bobby to Jack as they sat in one of the surveillance vehicles discreetly parked a short distance away from the warehouse.
"Now, we wait," concurred Jack as he peered into the darkness. It was quiet. The street was nearly deserted of pedestrian traffic with parked vehicles here and there.
"You the last to leave last night?" he asked.
"Yea."
"I thought you had somewhere to go."
"Made a phone call first."
"To Sue?"
"Uh-huh."
"You get to see her?"
"Yea," he answered a smile on his face. She had dinner waiting for him when he arrived at the house. It was a warm feeling to have someone to come home to.
"Had a nice time?"
"Very."
"You seem reluctant to talk." Bobby's one word responses were in sharp contrast to his usual conversational style.
"Not reluctant, mate. Just a bit overwhelmed with everything's that happened," was Bobby's reply.
"In a good way?"
"Definitely."
"We gonna meet her any time soon or you afraid she'll learn the truth about you if we do?" kidded Jack.
A wry expression appeared on Bobby's face. "I'm planning to ask her if she'd like to go to that formal dinner we have next week. You know, the one we all have to attend. Is that soon enough?"
Jack looked amused. "I don't know. The girls may show up at Sweet Treats hoping for a glimpse of Sue and knowing Lucy, she may even ask to meet the cookie baker."
Bobby rolled his eyes. Lucy was a wonderful friend and her attention to detail made her a great asset to the team. At the same time, that same tenacity could be a real pain when she became interested in something—or someone.
"Further discussion will have to be put on hold," Bobby remarked. "Look," he said spotting a figure headed towards to the warehouse.
Immediately, Jack spoke into his mike. "Tara…"
"I was just about to alert the teams," was the response before he could even get the rest of the sentence out of his mouth.
Two more men followed.
"Looks like the show is about to begin," commented Bobby.
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Sue slid into the chair opposite Richie. "You wanted to talk to me?"
"I'm worried about Eric."
"What happened?"
"He found out on Friday his mother was really sick…dying, in fact. I told him to ask Father Dancy or Brother Donahue for the money for plane fare so he could see her but he didn't want to."
"Why not?"
Richie shrugged. "We may be homeless but some of us still have our pride. It's hard to ask especially when they've done so much for us already."
Sue understood. Since helping at the shelter, she had come to see these men and women as individuals. Some were there because of poor choices they'd made in their lives but many had been caught up in circumstances beyond their control. The shelter provided the only note of stability in their lives.
"I could give him the money if he doesn't want to ask them," offered Sue. "Or I could get the plane ticket for him."
Richie flashed a smile. "He wouldn't take it from you either." The smile disappeared. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. She died the next day. I haven't seen him since then and I don't think he's been taking his medication either."
"Oh dear," Sue said worriedly. "Have you told Father Dancy or Brother Donahue?"
He shook his head. "I hate to bother them cause they've been so busy so I've been looking for him myself."
"Any luck?"
"Nope."
She stood up. "Come on."
"Where are we going?" he asked in surprise.
"To look for Eric."
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"All teams, the final target has just entered the building," announced Tara. Agents began running quietly into designated areas. "Position check."
"All teams in place and ready to go," she stated after a couple of minutes. She glanced at the two ATF members. They gave her a nod.
"On my mark, get ready. One, two, three…now!"
The agents burst through the front warehouse doors.
"Federal agents!" they shouted as they poured into the room. "Federal agents! Put your hands up!" As some of the suspects headed towards the back entrance, more agents spilled in to contain them.
One guard had managed to slip behind some crates in the confusion of the raid and quietly waited until he could escape. He crept towards the opening in the front. Only one agent stood in his way. If he got rid of him, maybe he could escape. Desperation could make a man run fast. Raising his gun, he carefully aimed for the tall agent.
Jack scanned the room surveying the scene checking for any loose ends when he spotted a movement near the entrance.
"Bobby! Behind you!"
Bobby whirled around as the sound of two guns firing filled the air. The gunman went down flat on his face.
Hurriedly, Jack went over to check the gunman kicking the weapon out of reach. "Don't move or I will shoot," he ordered while two other agents had come over. Only then did he risk a look at Bobby. He was standing clutching his left arm.
"Attempted murder of an FBI agent, Washington," commented Jack as one of the raid members frisked the downed man. "That should put you away for a nice long time. Cuff him," he commanded. The other agent retrieved and bagged the weapon for evidence.
"Ouch!" grunted the gunman. "I'm injured here."
Yeah, my heart bleeds for you." Jack walked away to check on Bobby. Myles was already assessing the damage.
"You okay?" asked Jack.
"Hurts like hell."
"He'll live," Myles pronounced. "Flesh wound in the upper arm. The bullet just grazed him."
Bobby grimaced. "You make it sound so minor."
"It is minor as far as bullet wounds go," Myles reminded him. "Be grateful the bullet's not stuck in your arm. That would entail probing with a sharp instrument or possibly surgery with a very sharp knife to…"
"I get it, Myles," Bobby interrupted stemming the gruesome details.
"The paramedics should be here any minute," Jack said. "Have them take a look at that arm." He walked over to D and the head of the ATF team, Carl Manetti.
"How's Bobby?" asked D.
"Flesh wound," Jack reported. "After he gets it cleaned and bandaged, he'll be as good as new."
"The gunman?" asked Manetti.
"He'll live."
Jack looked around. "We got everyone?"
Big smiles appeared on the leaders of both teams. "And everything," confirmed D.
"That's one shipment of arms that won't be used on the street."
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After sharing their concern with Mark, the three of them armed with flashlights had gone out looking for the deaf man. Mark had gone off by himself while Richie stayed with Sue. They had agreed to search all the usual places around the shelter first. Eric might have come back since Richie's initial hunt.
"This is not like him," said a worried Richie before they walked down another alley. "I mean he's been on binges before but he hasn't disappeared like this." He stopped and looked at Sue. "You think he's dead? That's why we haven't found him?"
"There hasn't been anything in the papers about finding a body so no, I don't think he's dead," Sue answered with more confidence than she really felt. "However, if we don't find him soon, that could change." She tugged on Richie's arm. "Come on."
Walking down the alley, the beams from their flashlight cut through the darkness. Rounding a mound of rubbish, Sue's light landed on the back of someone. Startled, the figure threw up an arm to block the blinding ray. Before she could say anything, the figure leapt up and pushed her. Staggering, she lost her balance and fell to the ground.
Richie immediately looked up at the sound of Sue's cry of alarm.
"Sue!" He rushed over to check on her. "Are you okay?" he asked in concern.
"Yeah," she answered taking a couple of deep breaths. "More surprised than anything."
"Let me help you up." Strong arms lifted her. "Good thing it hasn't been raining," commented Richie.
"Did you say something?" she asked as she dusted herself off.
"I said it was a good thing it hasn't been raining or your clothes would've been ruined."
"I have more clothes."
"What happened?"
"I don't know. I turned and the light landed on the back of someone. Next thing I know, he's running away and I'm on the ground." During her explanation, Richie's flashlight played over the area Sue indicated.
"Eric!" exclaimed Richie hurrying over to the prostrate form.
Quickly, Sue joined him over the unconscious man. "He doesn't look good," she said worriedly. "I'm calling for an ambulance." Whipping out her Blackberry, she punched in the emergency number.
Richie had been searching Eric's pockets. "Some cash and his medication," he said showing her the vial. "I can't tell if he's been taking it or not."
"The paramedics will want to see that," she informed him. She felt his cheek and forehead. "He feels clammy. He could be going into a diabetic coma for all we know."
"Where's that ambulance?" demanded Richie.
"It should be here soon," she said trying to soothe him. "Why don't you go stand by the street so they know where to come?" she suggested. She knew having something to do would help to calm the man down.
Sue covered her friend with her light jacket. As she stared at the comatose man, she wondered what had the other man been doing. He couldn't have been robbing Eric because Richie had found money on him. Was he trying to help? But why had he run away like that?
There had been something vaguely familiar about the figure but she couldn't put her finger on what. Everything had happened so quickly.
Bright lights startled her. Turning, she could see an ambulance coming down the alley. Paramedics jumped out and started working on Eric.
"What's his history?" barked one as the other took vitals.
"He's diabetic," answered Richie. "I have his medication here. I don't know if he's been taking it or not."
Sue chipped in. "He's may have been drinking."
"Drinking and diabetes—not a good combination."
"Is he going to be all right?" asked Richie worriedly.
"I don't know."
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A/N: I don't think paramedics would be so blunt but I left it in for dramatic effect.