Better Later Than Never: Chapter 12
Rain pelted the windows of the deserted warehouse. It was noon, but the storm clouds outside had overwhelmed the sun, leaving the building's interior dark as night. Without a flashlight, he had to feel his way toward the sound of his partner's cries for help.
"Gage!" Sydney screamed. "Help me! Gage, where are you?"
He opened his mouth to call out to her, to tell her he was almost there, but no sound escaped his lips. She called to him again, but this time her voice seemed to be coming from behind him.
"Gage, I'm over here! Can you hear me? Gaaaage!"
Spinning around, he came face to face with his own reflection. Although he could clearly see the panic in his own eyes, the rest of his image was misshapen and distorted. Gone was the storm-darkened warehouse. Now he was in a carnival house of mirrors, surrounded by dozens of silvery panels each filled with a different twisted jumble of his features. Sydney's voice seemed to surround him here. He couldn't tell which way to move so he just plowed ahead, stumbling into the mirrors, bouncing back, trying another angle until he found a doorway that led even deeper into the maze.
"Gage? Where are you? Why did you leave me here all alone?" Sydney's screams had turned to a plaintive, desperate whisper.
What if he didn't find her in time? What if he lost her forever? What if she died believing he had abandoned her?
Fear lay coiled like a snake in his belly. He tried again to tell her he was with her, that she wasn't alone, that he would find her or die trying, but the snake was slithering up into his chest, crushing all the air out of his lungs. He was drowning in his own terror.
Gathering all his strength, he inhaled as deeply as the snake would allow and tried one last time to cry out to her.
"Sydney!" Gage yelled and tried to sit up only to find an eighty-pound dog curled up on his chest. Apparently, the couch was Mac's domain and he had chosen not to abdicate it entirely to the human interloper.
"What?! What is it?" Sydney called as she ran barefooted into the living room, her hair mussed and one strap of her tank top dangling off her shoulder.
Gage was just getting his bearings when he saw the panicked expression in Sydney's eyes and tried to reassure her that all was well even before he was completely sure of it himself.
"I'm OK. I was dreaming that I was drowning, or something. I couldn't breathe and I woke up and discovered this heavy animal sleeping on my chest," he said, pointing to Mac, who had jumped off him to greet Sydney when she came barreling into the room. Gage chose not to share the part of the dream that had to do with her, the truly terrifying part that still had him a bit flustered. Or maybe it was how unbelievably sexy she looked at the moment, freshly awakened and totally unguarded, that was so unsettling.
"I'm sorry that I woke you…and scared you," he apologized.
"It's OK, we probably need to get up soon anyway, don't we?" she said, yawning and brushing back her hair as she searched the still darkened room for a clock. Her eyes finally lit on the digital readout on the microwave in the kitchen; 6:14 glowed blue-green.
Mrs. Hooper came down the hallway, flipping on the light and tightening the belt on her robe.
"Is everybody all right in here?" she asked.
"We're fine, ma'am. I'm sorry if I woke you," Gage said, standing up and stretching.
"Don't worry about me. I'm up with the chickens every day. If y'all are ready for breakfast, I'll be happy to start cooking," she offered.
When neither Marty nor his father made an appearance, Mrs. Hooper explained that both of them possessed the ability to "sleep through World War III."
While Mrs. Hooper started cracking eggs and frying bacon, Gage and Sydney got dressed, gathered their overnight things, made the guest room bed and put the blankets and pillows Gage used back in the hallway closet.
"Mmmm, I smell coffee," Sydney observed.
"Help yourself. If it's not too chilly outside, I usually like to have mine out on the porch swing," offered Mrs. Hooper.
Sydney poured some of the steaming brew into two mugs, handed one to Gage and motioned for him to follow her onto the front porch. They sat side by side on the swing, a long bench anchored to the porch ceiling by two huge hooks and chains. Rocking gently, they drank their coffee in silence for a few minutes, while Gage wondered what Sydney wanted to talk to him about.
At last, Sydney asked, "What time is Marty due in court?"
That was it? Oh, well, all in good time, he supposed.
"Alex said he should plan to be there at nine o'clock, so he can meet with the public defender assigned to his case. The arraignment probably won't start until after ten," Gage informed her.
Since Marty was technically a witness for the prosecution, Walker had asked Alex to talk to Marty and his parents and outline the various steps, from Marty being booked and processed to the arraignment and, eventually, the trial. She had called last night and given them all the same details Sydney just asked Gage to repeat. Gage knew his partner had to have something else on her mind.
"So, why did you just ask me a question you already knew the answer to?" Gage inquired.
"I was just trying to figure out whether or not I had time to run an errand this morning, but I don't," she answered without further details.
"Is it something we can do on the way to the courthouse? We can leave a little early if you want."
"No, it's OK. I can do it this afternoon after work," she said, closing the subject by getting off the porch swing and walking to the front door.
Getting to his feet, Gage started to reach for her arm to keep her from going inside, but Mrs. Hooper's voice pierced the screen door with the announcement that breakfast was ready, so he just followed Sydney into the kitchen, all of his questions still unanswered.
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After breakfast, Gage, Sydney and Marty got into Gage's car and drove to Ranger headquarters where Marty gave a formal statement before being fingerprinted and photographed. From there, Gage accompanied him to the courthouse where he met his assigned attorney and his parents, who had come in their own car.
Sydney had begged off of going to court since she wasn't essential to the morning's proceedings, telling Gage that the more she thought about it, the more she wanted to accomplish her errand sooner rather than later.
"So, partner, are you going to tell me what's so important that it can't wait 'til after work?" he had asked her when they parted ways.
"Not yet, but if you want to come over for dinner tonight, maybe I'll tell you then," she had replied, giving nothing away.
They had agreed that Gage would go to her place directly after work and they'd decide then whether to cook or eat out. It was a familiar pattern, one that dated back almost to the very beginning of their partnership. Sydney knew how to cook and enjoyed doing it, so her kitchen had more of the essential equipment than his did. Gage had one dish in his kitchen repertoire: toast. So, more often than not, when they went to Sydney's place, they had options and when they went to his, they ate out.
While Marty and his parents met with his attorney in an empty conference room on the first floor, Gage walked up the steps to the second floor and waited outside the courtroom. When he got there, he called Walker to check on the status of Tex and Johnny.
"Trivette and I picked them up from county jail a while ago. We should be there any minute," Walker informed him.
Sure enough, it wasn't long before Walker and Trivette came walking down the courthouse hallway escorting Tex and Johnny, both of whom were wearing handcuffs, orange jumpsuits and hang dog expressions.
"You two can take a seat right here," Walker told the prisoners, pointing to one of the benches that lined the long hallway. Both men sat without taking their eyes off the tall, blond Ranger who appeared to be equally interested in them.
At last, Tex spoke. "Ranger Walker told me you went out of your way to help Marty with all this. I just wanted to say I'm obliged."
"Marty's a good kid, Tex. He did what he did because he didn't want you to get hurt. He figured you'd be safer in jail than on the run," Gage told him.
"All things considered, he's done a better job of looking out for me than I did looking out for him," Tex admitted.
"You won't get any argument from me on that one," Gage replied.
Johnny uttered a disgusted "Hmph", which Tex answered by shoving his shoulder into Johnny's chest and toppling him over backwards.
"Nobody asked you, Johnny," Tex seethed as Trivette helped the fallen prisoner to his feet.
"How about you just stand over here by me for a while?" Trivette suggested, walking Johnny out of harm's way.
Just then, a bright, musical 'ding' announced the arrival of one of the two elevators at the end of the hallway. When the doors opened, Marty, his lawyer and his parents got out.
"Tex!" Marty shouted when he spotted his brother.
"Hey little brother," Tex greeted him as he stood up and was nearly bowled over by Marty's enthusiastic hug. "Whoa, man, take it easy. It's good to see you, too."
A minute later, Mr. and Mrs. Hooper had also embraced their oldest son, after which they turned to Johnny.
"Johnny," Mrs. Hooper nodded toward her nephew.
"Aunt Vi, Uncle Mike," Johnny nodded back.
"I don't hate you, Johnny. I'm just so awfully disappointed. I'm glad my sister didn't live to see this day," Mrs. Hooper said, reaching out and squeezing his arm before turning back to her own boys.
The next time the elevator doors opened, Marty saw a whole carload of familiar faces.
"Mark? Juliet? Coach Davis? What are you all doing here?" Marty wondered. To his amazement, at least a dozen of his fellow Liberty High students and several members of Liberty football teams, past and present, were exiting the other elevator and filling the hallway.
Juliet's father, Coach Donald Davis, was the first to speak.
"We came to offer our support for you and your brother," he said. Turning to Tex, he put a hand on his shoulder and said, "You'll always be one of my boys, Tex; once an Eagle, always an Eagle. I just wish you'd come to me for help, son, instead of getting mixed up in all this."
Tex hung his head as he whispered harshly, "I did some awful things, Coach, awful…"
"And now you're here to do what's right, just like Marty did. No one is beyond the reach of God's grace, Tex, not even you," Coach Davis assured him.
Unable to speak, Tex just nodded as the coach sat next to him and put an arm around his shoulders.
"How you holding up, man?" Mark asked Marty.
"I'm fine, really. My lawyer says he doubts I'll have any jail time, but I'll probably be on probation 'til I'm an old man, thirty at least," Marty answered.
Across the hall, Juliet approached Gage with open arms and wrapped him in a warm embrace.
"Thank you for calling me to let me know about the arraignment today. I could have easily brought the whole school with me. I don't think Marty has any idea how many people actually like him; I know he's always thought of himself as a loner," she said.
"Hey, remember, not a word about who told you, right?" Gage reminded her, looking around to make sure no one was listening.
"No, Ranger Gage, your secret identity as a big-hearted softy is safe with me, although I'm sure your girlfriend has unmasked your sensitive alter ego at least once or twice by now."
"My girlfriend?" Gage queried, completely clueless.
"Ranger Cooke, your partner. You two are still together, aren't you?" Juliet asked innocently, adding, "I mean I know it's only been since Saturday night, but…"
Understanding dawned as the mention of Saturday night and the look of confused anguish she saw in Gage's eyes finally coalesced in Juliet's mind.
Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, my goodness! Your memory loss! You didn't know. I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking…"
Gage cut her off. "Juliet, Juliet, it's OK. You couldn't have known what I remembered and what I didn't. Please don't worry about this. I'm fine. Everything is going to be fine," he assured her, giving her a quick hug before he said, "Tell Marty to hang in there. I have to go."
On his way down the hall, he saw Alex heading for the courtroom.
"Where are you going? We're due in court in two minutes!" she called out as he strode past her on the way to the stairs.
He slowed down long enough to turn around and say, "You don't really need me today, Alex, but I know someone else who does."
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Sydney parked in front of the building with the bright purple awning a few minutes before ten. As she got out and approached the door, she saw that the photography studio's hours were 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Just in case, she tried the door and found it open. A bell overhead jingled as she stepped inside.
A familiar baritone called from behind the counter, "I'm not actually open yet. Sign says ten o'clock."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Rhyme. The door was unlocked, so I…" Sydney started to explain, but Rhyme's grinning countenance popped up almost directly in front of her, startling her into silence.
"Ms. Cooke! How nice to see you again," Rhyme exclaimed, hurrying out from behind the counter and wrapping her in a chaste hug.
Sydney hadn't expected such a warm welcome.
"I came to pick up the picture from Saturday night at the governor's mansion. Is it ready?" she asked.
By way of an answer, Rhyme took her by the shoulders and turned her ninety degrees to her left. There, in front of her, was a wall-sized portrait of Gage and her in each others' arms, eyes closed, kissing.
Suddenly she had lost the ability to breathe. Her hand went to her chest to try to force out the air locked in her lungs, but to no avail. Her head spun and had Rhyme not caught her she would have swooned on the spot.
"Ms. Cooke! Heavens, dear, are you all right?" Rhyme was saying as he helped her to an antique chair with purple velvet cushions.
His voice barely registered, however, as she couldn't focus on anything but the portrait, the defining moment of her happiness, preserved forever on canvas…
"But lost forever to him…" Sydney mumbled to herself, unaware that she had said the words aloud.
"Lost forever? Ms. Cooke? What is wrong?" Rhyme's voice finally cut through the haze of sadness enveloping her brain and he saw her eyes register her awareness of his presence. "Oh, look who's back. Now, tell me what this is all about or I will think you hate your gift."
"My gift? You were going to give this to me?" she uttered incredulously.
"Well, to you and your Ranger Gage, actually…as a wedding present."
He might as well have stabbed Sydney in the heart, but he continued, oblivious to the invisible knife he was twisting in her chest.
"I know I'm a bit ahead of myself, but when I developed the photograph I knew I had captured something very special. Once in a blue moon, the photo gods grant this humble servant such a prize and when they do I try not to waste it on a mere 8x10 glossy. And, since I have little doubt that there will be nuptials, probably sooner rather than later, I went ahead and…."
"No," she said so softly he almost didn't hear her.
"Pardon?"
"No, Mr. Rhyme, there will not be nuptials, at least not in the foreseeable future," she stated flatly. She forced herself to remember that this kind man had no idea that the beautiful romantic dream he captured on film that night had turned into a raging nightmare. She knew she should thank him for going to the trouble and probably considerable expense of creating the portrait, which was by any standard a gorgeous work of art, but instead she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
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Gage was amazed at his own stupidity. He should have known, should have guessed. What else could it have been?
The pieces were starting to fall into place – Sydney's comment about the actress; the ghostly smell of her shampoo; the vision of long, dark hair and the coppery velvet dress; and the ever-present look of disappointment in her eyes. When he placed it all within the framework of Juliet's revelation about Saturday night, he could almost see the whole picture, almost touch the truth.
He had to find Sydney, but first he needed time to think, to figure out which pieces mattered and which ones didn't. He drove around wracking his brain, trying to remember everything Sydney had said and done since he woke up in the hospital, all the faraway looks, the tearful silences, and most heart-breaking of all, her apology for making him feel guilty for something he couldn't control.
"Oh, Syd, I can't even imagine the pain you must be in," he whispered. "I don't care about anything else, I just don't want you to hurt anymore."
In that moment, he realized that the lost memories of Saturday night were just that – memories. Whatever happened between them that night, as wonderful as it must have been, wasn't important; that was the past. The future was what mattered and he didn't need to remember the last six months to know that his future was Sydney. He had known that ever since he'd lost his hearing and she had been so caring, so constant, so unfailing in her support of him. Yes, he had fallen in love with her long before last Saturday night. And yet it had taken him six months to do anything about it? He really was a total idiot and he wouldn't have blamed Sydney if she wanted to just forget him altogether, but as he dialed her number and listened to it ring, he prayed that she still loved him enough to give him one more day to make things right.
End Chapter 12.