9

It Had to be You

A/N: The action picks up.

A/N2Thanks for the comments! And a special thank you to Maria since I can't send a private email to you.

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Chapter 20

At the sound of the ambulance siren, Mark sprinted where he'd parted with Sue and Richie. Maybe they'd found him, he thought. He pushed his way through the small crowd that magically seemed to appear from nowhere. Spotting Sue and Richie, he edged his way towards them. His progress was halted by a pair of outstretched arms.

"Stand back," ordered the police officer.

"Jerry, it's me, Father Dancy," panted Mark when he recognized the officer.

The beat patrolman took a good look at the man. "Oh, it's you, Father."

"Can I get through? I know those people," he said pointing to Richie and Sue. "I think they may have found the friend we were looking for."

"Another one of your flock, Father?"

"I hope so. He's been missing a few days."

"Just stay out of the way of the paramedics."

"Thanks."

Rapid footsteps took him to the side of Richie and Sue. Another police officer was just closing his notepad.

"Is it Eric?" asked Mark anxiously as he ran his hand through his tousled hair.

"Yeah," Richie answered.

"You know these people, Father Dancy?" the patrolman inquired.

"And the man the paramedics are treating," Mark responded. "How is he?"

"Not good," answered Sue. "He was unconscious when I found him. I think he might be in a coma."

"Have the paramedics said anything?"

"They asked about his medical condition. Other than that they haven't said a thing." She looked at the homeless man beside her. "Or did they and I missed it?"

"Nope, not a word," shared Richie, "at least not to us."

"Father," began the police officer, "have a minute?"

"Sure. I'll be right back," he assured Richie and Sue.

They watched as the paramedics efficiently set up an IV for the unconscious man and put an oxygen mask on to help his shallow breathing.

"I'll get the gurney," said the younger one. In a couple of minutes, he returned pushing one.

"Need help?" offered Richie.

"We've got it," the other paramedic replied as he positioned himself. "Ready? On the count of three. One, two, three, lift." Eric was placed on the gurney, a blanket tucked around him.

"Where are you taking him?" Mark asked as he rejoined the group.

"Community General, Father," replied one of the paramedics as they headed towards the ambulance.

"He'll need a familiar face around when he wakes up," Sue stated. "We need to go to the hospital and be there for him."

"If he wakes up," Richie commented pessimistically. The glance he had of his friend as the EMS workers pushed past them were not encouraging.

Silently, Mark agreed with Richie but refrained from expressing his uneasiness. Sue had been focusing on Eric's transport into the ambulance and missed Richie's bleak remark.

"They're taking him to Community General. I'll drop you off at your car, Sue, and call you when I find out anything."

"No you're not," she said firmly. "I want to be there when Eric regains consciousness. He's going to need someone to interpret for him."

"It could take all night," he said to dissuade her from coming.

"Doesn't matter. I'm going," Sue said in a no-nonsense tone.

"I'm coming, too, Father," said Richie. "That is, if you don't mind."

Mark's eyes flicked between Sue and Richie's determined faces. "I think Eric would be very happy to know he has such good friends. Shall we go?"

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For the first time in the bright lights of the hospital, Mark had a good look at Sue and noticed her disheveled appearance.

"What happened to you?"

She looked down at her soiled pants "Oh, I fell."

"She was pushed," corrected Richie. "She hurt her hand."

"Let me see," Mark instructed as he reached for the hand Sue hid behind her back. "Eric pushed you?"

"Not Eric. Someone else."

"Who? Open your hand so I can take a look," he ordered.

"He was kneeling over Eric…"

Mark's eyes flicked towards Sue's face. Could she identify the person?

"…and I must've startled him when he saw the beam from my flashlight. He knocked me down when he ran away. I'm sure it was an accident."

"Accident or not you need to have that hand cleaned," he said after his cursory check. "No telling what germs were in that alley." He looked at her. "C'mon…let's go get that cleaned," he ordered as he pulled her towards the check-in desk "Could you see the face of the guy that pushed you?"

"Not really. He had his hand in front of his face."

"Could you describe him?"

"Average height, average build, longish hair. I think he was wearing glasses."

"Anything outstanding about him?"

She pondered his question for a few seconds then shook her head. "No."

"What was he doing?"

"I could see him bending over Eric. I think he was holding something in his hand but I couldn't see what it was." She looked at Mark strangely. "The police asked the same questions. Why do you want to know?"

Before he could answer, the clerk looked up. "Can I help you Father Dancy?"

"Sandy, my friend needs to have her hand cleaned and bandaged," he informed her as he held up Sue's palm. "You mind if I take her inside and get it done?"

"Sure," she responded. "Room one is open." She peered at it. "Have you had your tetanus booster within the past ten years?"

Sue bent down to follow the woman's comments but couldn't see enough of her lips.

"Excuse me?"

"She asked if you had your tetanus shot within the past ten years," Mark repeated. "She's deaf," he said to the clerk. "She couldn't see your lips."

"Oh! I'm sorry."

"That's okay. And yes, I had my booster two years ago."

"Good. I'll get the bandages for you."

"Richie, will you be all right by yourself?" Mark asked.

"I'll be fine," he assured them. "You go take care of Sue. I'll wait here in case someone comes out to tell us about Eric."

"We'll be back in a few minutes."

"I guess being well known here has its perks," joked Sue trying to lighten the situation a bit as Mark washed off the blood and grime from the palm of her hand.

"A few," he smiled. The smiles faded as the seriousness of the circumstances prevailed.

"Do you think Eric's going to be all right?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know. It all depends on how long he's been in a coma, if the paramedics got to him in time to prevent brain damage." He applied the antibiotic and began expertly wrapping the gauze around her hand. He didn't share his knowledge that Eric's condition could be the work of a killer. Sue didn't need to know that right now.

"It seems you've had a lot of experience bandaging people up," remarked Sue controlling her dismay at the thought of brain damage in her friend.

"More than I'd like. It comes with the territory." He taped the end down. "There. Keep it covered a day or two and you'll be as good as new."

"Thank you, Dr. Dancy."

"You're welcome, Miss Thomas. I'll send you my bill," he smiled.

"Do you think there'll be news of Eric soon?" Sue asked as they headed back to the waiting area.

"Hard to tell," shrugged Mark. "It really depends on his condition and how busy they are." He looked around at the sparsely populated lounge. "Thank goodness it seems to be a slow night."

"I wish there was something we could do while we wait."

"There is."

She looked at him questioningly.

"We can pray."

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Aside from the two injuries, everything else had proceeded as planned. Realizing they were seriously outnumbered, everyone else had surrendered quietly if reluctantly. Marty Pavone had been extremely pleased. By the time the place had been secured and the debriefing completed, it had been close to midnight.

"Go home," D ordered. "We can finish the paperwork tomorrow."

Groans were heard as people sat back in their chairs.

"Yes, people," he reminded them, "we do have work tomorrow. So I expect to see you all at eight o'clock sharp if not earlier."

"Don't expect to see happy faces tomorrow," grumbled Lucy as she signed out on her computer. "Or do I mean today?" she said peering at the clock on the wall.

"It's still barely today," answered Myles. "Another ten minutes and it'll be tomorrow. Then today would be yesterday and tomorrow will be today."

The team rolled their collective eyes at his convoluted explanation.

"I don't know how you do it, Myles," remarked D. "You take a simple concept and manage to make it so complicated."

"It's a gift," he said modestly.

At that moment, someone's cell rang. Eyes flicked to one another wondering whose phone.

"Jack, I think it's you," Lucy stated.

"Can I just not answer it?" asked Jack with a rueful expression.

"You wish," Bobby said with a small smile. Being an FBI agent was a 24/7 job.

"FBI, Hudson here."

"Jack! It's Diana. Sorry if I'm interrupting your beauty rest."

"Not a problem—I'm up. And why is Metro PD's hardest working lieutenant calling at this hour of the night?"

At that comment, all activity stopped and eyes swiveled to Jack.

"You still want to be notified when a homeless person is taken to the hospital?"

"Yeah." The FBI had issued an alert to the police and all hospitals to be on the lookout for potential victims of the serial killer.

"Well, a patrolman just called in to say one is on his way to Community Hospital."

"Community Hospital—got it. Does this person have a name?"

"Eric Shelton. "

"What's his condition?"

"Not too good. And Jack?"

"There's more?"

"The officer reported the friend who found him said someone was bending over the guy when she found him. He ran away when she got close."

Jack became still—this might be the break they needed to find the murderer. "A possible witness?"

The attention on Jack intensified at the word witness.

"Could be."

"What's the name of the witness?"

"I don't have the written report yet but the officer said she was going to the hospital to wait for news on her friend."

"Let's hope she's still there by the time we get to the hospital."

"I'll fax over a copy of the report as soon as I get it so you'll have her name and address if you miss her at the hospital."

"Thanks, Diana. I owe you one."

"I'll just add it to the nine hundred and twenty-four other favors you still owe me. Let me know what happens."

"All right. Thanks again."

"What's up?" asked Tara when Jack hung up. "I thought I heard the word witness."

"Yup, we may have a witness in the serial killer case. Latest victim is at Community General."

"If he's at the hospital that must mean he's still alive," remarked Myles.

"But if it is the work of the killer, he may not be alive for long," said Jack as he reached for his jacket. "That's why we have to get there asap. Who's coming with me?"

"What do you mean who's going with you?" demanded an affronted Bobby. "I'm going with you. We've been working together on this case."

"If you remember," Jack said patiently, "you were shot today. I thought you might want to go home and rest that arm of yours so you'll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for work tomorrow…I mean today."

"I'm perfectly fine," insisted Bobby. "See?" he said as he flexed his left biceps. "Ow!" instantly followed as he clutched his wounded arm gingerly.

"You're not doing a very good job of convincing me, Crash." He turned to D. "Tell him to go home. Someone else can come with me."

"I'll go with you," offered Tara.

"It's up to Bobby. If he feels okay, he has my permission to go," said D with a smirk.

"You heard the man, Sparky…let's go."

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