Boosting - Chapter 27

Nancy was meandering about Con's hospital room. She'd smoothed his bedclothes, stood and gawped out of the window and had read the headlines via her tiny phone's WAP connection – anything was preferable to doing nothing. If things didn't improve, she'd have to resort to reading that gossip magazine someone had left in the bedside drawer and she HATED gossiping.

She and Anderson had been there for an hour and the conversation had dried up after ten minutes. James didn't have much to say for himself, as secretive and private as Con. It was all painfully forced dialogue and extended silences.

Nancy hovered over Con and narrowed her eyes, willing him to awaken by the sheer supremacy of her all-powerful extrasensory mind. Nothing happened. "Huh! So much for my psychic abilities!" Next, she experimented with the 'laying on of hands' to see if she had the power of healing. She rubbed her palms briskly together to 'charge them up' and ran them back-and-forth about an inch above Con's head and face, concentrating hard. Con was so singularly unimpressed he didn't even twitch.

Giving up, she moved to the foot of the bed, picked up Con's notes and scanned them – not that she could work out what those graphs and scribbles meant. It was remarkable anyone could!

What she did know was that Con's head wound had taken a ton of stitches to close up, but at least he'd been saved the worry of having to experience it. Luckily, as Nancy had pointed out to James later (if 'lucky' had been the right term to use), the tear had been along his hairline so the scarring wouldn't be noticeable, so long as didn't start going bald.

A whole gamut of x-rays had been ordered and an MRI of Con's scull, fearing a fracture, but Con had proven to be every bit as thick headed as everyone believed, and all appeared well – aside from a slight swelling at the front of his brain, which was why they thought he wasn't waking up quickly. None of the medical personnel seemed overly concerned by his continued comatose state though.

Nancy's eyes focused on something at the top of Con's chart and she practically did a comedic double-take. "Nooo…wayyy!" she breathed and covered her mouth. "Con'd better hope that Joe doesn't find out about that!" She started laughing hard, until tears actually started to run down her cheeks!

A slight movement deadened her mirth and she immediately lost interest in her valuable find, replaced the chart and moved quickly to Con's side. His eyes attempted to open but then squeezed tightly shut. Nancy thought he'd slipped away again until his hand lifted to seek out his forehead.

"Con?" she asked, placing a restraining hand to prevent any further damage. "Yeah, I know, that hurts doesn't it? But try not to touch it. You with me?"

He groaned, and Nancy felt his forearm tendons tauten as he clenched his hand into a fist. "Dang! Did I get hit by a jack hammer?" He cracked his eyes open to squint unfocused at her. "Is that you, Drew?" he asked and made an attempt at smiling before realising his mistake and hissing. His lip was sore, butterfly strips holding the split halves together.

"What did I tell you about looking left and right before crossing the street?" she teased. "You wouldn't believe the fuss you've caused, the hospital's been heaving with cops. The staff had to insist most of them leave, they were worrying the patients!"

"Ha!" Con shut his eyes. "How long have I been here?" he asked, his eyelids sliding open again to now look at her properly.

"A few hours. We didn't find you until this morning. What happened?"

"Jumped by three men. They wanted the Ford – they were so fast. Didn't know they were there. Didn't stand a chance. Embarrassing."

"That's what we figured, but you've got nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Did they get picked up yet?"

"Long gone. But if I know Fenton Hardy the Great Detective, he'll have them rounded up by the end of the day."

Con nodded sagely. "Tell Ezra to check the hospitals for anyone with dog bites. One guy had his leg mauled, but the other guy must have extensive arm wounds. Rebel seriously took him to task."

"Good!" Nancy said. "I'll make sure Collig knows."

"Have you been here all this time?"

"Frank and Joe couldn't stay; they got a call to meet with Fenton. He has a lead on Bobbie so they've gone to River Heights."

"Frank went too?" he asked, surprised. "Why didn't you go with them?"

"And leave you here alone? No way! Friends don't do that to one another."

"So you're not entirely a bone-headed 'professional', eh?" Con turned his palm over and she dropped her hand in to receive a squeeze. "Thanks."

"It's not only me you owe a thanks to, James has been here the whole time as well. He's just gone to get coffee."

"James?…James Anderson? What's he doing here? He can't stand me."

"Aw c'mon Con, don't tell me you haven't noticed he hero-worships you?" Nancy asked with a grin.

"Get-out-of-town, Drew, the kid finds every opportunity to antagonise me."

"Well there you are, it's like the boy pulling the girl's pig-tails in the playground. It's cute. And he's looking after Rebel for you."

"Eh?" Con frowned, confused. "Wait, Rebel doesn't like strangers and doesn't come without his problems. How was Anderson able to take him?"

"What do you mean? Rebel was happy in his company. Was all over him in the back yard, even obeyed James's order to find you."

"Rebel was all over Anderson? MY Rebel? The Rebel who ripped into one of my attackers and threw him around my kitchen until he tore the guy's skin off like a glove?"

Nancy didn't understand what the problem was. "Anderson must have met Rebel before because he knew his name and the fact that he's almost deaf. And he knew these hand movements to get Rebel to do what he wanted."

Con sighed, closed his eyes and went completely still, his palm limp in hers.

Nancy thought he'd passed out again. "Con?!" she asked worriedly, shaking his hand.

He immediately looked up and retightened his grip. "Sorry Drew, was thinking, tryin' to work out if I'd brought Rebel in to work lately. I can't recall an occasion though." His hazel eyes turned serious. "Nan, James Anderson has never ever come into contact with my dog."

"Well, he knew he was an ex-police dog and that you'd adopted him."

"That was three years ago, Anderson's been with the precinct for barely twelve months. And I didn't teach Rebel those commands until after I'd adopted him. No one else knows those hand gestures."

Nancy frowned and sank onto the bed. "Then how does…oh no, do you think he's another rogue cop?" But her head shook almost as soon as the theory was past her lips. "No, that doesn't sit right, I like James, he's helped us out a lot. He was so worried when we found you, white as a sheet, no way he could have faked that. And he was the one who took out Rodden during the Pandora case, why would he do that if Rodden was one of his team-mates?"

"Maybe that was the point, maybe Rodden wasn't one of his compadres, maybe they were rivals, maybe Anderson was happy for the opportunity to bash him!" Con was growing frantic. "Where is he?" he asked, and started sitting up, grimacing at the pain in his back.

Nancy gently pushed him and Con put up a weak attempt at fighting, his arms encircling and bringing her down with him. If someone had walked in at that moment, they'd have been forgiven in assuming it was a lover's embrace. "Don't you dare get up!" she ordered, her face so close she could clearly see the myriad of surgical stitches to his head though the bandages. She met his intense gaze with the same strength of resolve.

"I don't want him to hurt you, Nancy – look how dangerous that gang was who went after Frank, what if he's one of them?"

"Then I'll deal with it, I'll—"

Con didn't let her finish. "—No, it's a mans job to protect."

"Do you want another lessen in underestimating the fairer sex?" she asked and pointed a wagging finger into his face. "Do you want me to get Vanessa in here in a short dress and high heels?"

"That's not an entirely unpleasant offer—" Con deadpanned.

"Con!!! That's not what I meant and you know it. Do you want me to tell Joe what you just said?"

"Please don't do that—"

"Well then, listen to me. Carry on pretending to be unconscious in case James returns before I can get back. I'm going to track down one of the other officers. In fact, I'll see if Collig is still—"

And then they were locking identically horrified eyes as the door handle dropped.

"Too late!" Nancy whispered. "Play dead!" She jumped from the bed and threw herself into the seat, grabbing the magazine along the way.

Anderson shouldered his way into the room. Moving slowly and carefully in order not to spill a drop of the hot drinks he was carrying.

Nancy looked at the open magazine and realised it was upside down. She discarded it nonchalantly to one side, hoping Anderson hadn't noticed.

He hadn't. "Can't vouch for the taste of this coffee – came out of a vending machine," Anderson said and directed his chin towards Con's still form. "Any change?"

Nancy got up and approached him as if to take one of the cups, patting Con's hand as she passed. "No, he's not moved at all. She started reaching allowing her gaze to travel and fix onto Anderson's shoulder before opening her eyes wide into a horrified expression. "James, stand still, don't move!"

"What? What is it?" he asked, alarmed trying to see what she was seeing.

"I said don't move!" she chided and stepped around behind. Because he had both hands full, he didn't have much choice but to obey lest he tip it all down himself. She made a lunge for his gun holster, ripping and unclipping and drew out his weapon, so fast he barely registered what was happening until it was done. She raised it and stepped back. "Now, I really mean, don't move!"

Anderson gaped. "What are you…Nancy, have you gone mucho ga-ga?"

"No she's hasn't," Con said from his bed, making Anderson jump.

The scalding liquid spilled and ran down James's fingers. "Yowch!" he yelled. "I dunno what your problem is, Nancy, but may I at least put the cups down."

"Don't do it, Nancy!" Con called, finding the bed remote and starting to raise the head end.

"No you may not!" Nancy said. "When I said 'don't move' I meant it." Then she regretted not letting him as she didn't fancy a face full of boiling hot magma.

"What's goin' on?" Anderson asked. "I don't get it."

"I think it's us that hasn't been 'getting it'," Con said. "Who do you work for? The Network is it?"

"Huh? What are you talking about—?"

"—C'mon Anderson, the games up. You've been prying into my life, you know a little too much about it for someone who's only been in the picture for twelve months, even down to what hand gestures I use with my deaf dog. You've been bobbing up into the picture too much for it to be a coincidence. I thought it was Collig volunteering you, but it wasn't, was it? You made sure you were there to jump in when he needed a volunteer. You've been riding my shirttails for months and it's all a little bit weird and suspicious."

Anderson grimaced. "Okay, okay…I'll tell you, it's all completely innocent. Given the circumstances, I was gonna tell you today anyway. But let me put these cups down, they're burning my fingers!"

Nancy acquiesced and motioned for him to put them on the floor, taking the safety off with her thumb at the same time. Anderson did so quickly, against the wall, and then stood again with his palms out. "Explain," she said. "And make it good because I'm a hair's breath away from contacting Collig and having him haul you away! The only reason I haven't is because of the good things you've done."

"Okay. I need to get something from my pocket – be cool!" Anderson ever so carefully pulled the one side of his jacket wide so Nancy could see what he was doing.

Nancy raised an eyebrow and cocked the gun as his fingertips went into one of the inside pockets. "Don't try anything stupid."

"I understand." James slid whatever it was out and held it up. "See, only my wallet. Take it easy, it wouldn't take much for that gun to go off, the trigger is real sensitive."

"Well don't do anything stupid then!" Nancy said.

"C'mon Anderson, quit stalling – what's the story?" Con asked.

Anderson turned and tossed the wallet towards Con's bed as if for him to catch it. The ex-Lieutenant didn't try to catch it, if anything; he tried to move away, cringing with the effort. It landed with a dull thud next to him.

Nancy immediately went after Anderson aggressively. "That was the kind of 'stupid' I was talking about!" she shouted. "Turn around and put your palms up on the wall!" She yanked him physically around and he did as ordered, apologising the entire time. "Higher than that James, above your head!"

"Nancy, I didn't mean to give X-L a scare, I need him to look at something in the zipper compartment!"

"Shut your trap!" She rammed her forearm into the small of his back so he fell into the wall and kicked his legs wide. "You don't get to talk to Con again!" she shouted and grabbed onto the rear of Anderson's collar before jamming her elbow hard into his spine with the same arm as a make sure. "You okay, Con?" Nancy asked, pressing the gun home. No response, so she jerked her head around, hair wild, to find Con had emptied the contents of the wallet out and was holding up a couple of documents, one a photograph. He was staring mesmerised. "Con?" Nancy prompted.

Con lowered his hands and gaped back at her, stunned. "Let him, go, Nancy."

"What?"

"Let him go. He's not a rogue cop. He's not even James Anderson…well, he is now, but he was born James Riley, before he changed his surname."

"What?"

"He's my nephew, Nancy, my brother's boy."

Nancy's mouth dropped open and she turned to look at James and obeyed by stepping back and letting her prisoner away from the wall.

"And by the way, Drew," Con said, "You were right, I've been underestimating you because you're a woman and I owe you a big apology. When I get out of here, there's a meal on me for you and Frank. That was a fine bit of work."

"Thanks," Nancy muttered, reddening.

James turned and locked onto Con and they both gazed at one another.

Nancy looked comparably from James, to Con, and then back again. Why hadn't she seen it before? It was so obvious! They looked fairly alike – both having the same hazel eyes and hair color, although Con was taller and broader and, of course, older. But it wasn't only that: their personalities were similar, the way they both were so great in an emergency…but bodily so awkward, and the way they were so protective of her. Even how private they both were, giving nothing away. Most importantly, the way Rebel had been so accepting. Animals always had a way of sensing these things.

"I'm sorry James," Nancy said, deactivating the gun and offering it back. James didn't even look at her, let alone take his side arm; he only had eyes for his uncle. So Nancy slipped the gun into the holster for him.

"I haven't seen you since you were five years old," Con said finally. "Little Jimmy Riley, eh? Only not so little any more."

"I haven't been 'Little Jimmy' for a long time. You were the only one who ever called me that." James dropped his chin slightly. "Technically you've been seeing me for the last year, but not seeing me."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I had to be sure of you. My head's been filled for years with stories about what a betraying scumbag you are, and I didn't trust you…even though I know the family are a bunch of…well, you know?"

"Yeah, I know only to well. How are the family, still operating on the wrong side of the law?" Con's tone was bitter.

"What do you think?" James asked, acrimony clear in his voice too. "I haven't laid eyes on any of them for three years. They reacted about as well when I told them I was entering the force as they did you. It was after that I started to suspect they'd been feeding me a load of crappola about you, so I decided to find out for myself and got in at Bayport after I qualified."

"And?"

James grinned. "It was a load of crappola."

"What about Rebel?"

James's smile grew wider. "I learned the hand signals by watching you both in the park. Rebel got so used to me hanging around that he'd seek me out, and we developed this game where I'd throw his ball at you from the trees and he'd go after it."

"Was that you? I thought it was kids playing games!"

James laughed. "Nah, it was me, Rebel thought it was great getting us to chuck that ball to one another."

"You've got quite the throwing arm!" Con attempted a smile of his own and indicated to the seat, watching James in fascination as he approached. "Tell me about yourself. The last time I saw you, you didn't even come up to my knee. It was the day I walked out the door for the final time."

"I remember. I remember the shouting and having to hide. And I remember that I didn't want you to go—"

Nancy backed towards the exit, "Erm…I gotta go…do something…I'll…take this though." She dipped to pick up one of the coffees before opening the door to tactfully leave them to it as James reached to take hold of his uncle's proffered palm. Once the door had shut, she muttered. "Oh…my…God!" and snatched for her cell to phone Vanessa.

"Hi Nan."

"Wait till you hear this gossip, it's the gossip of the year!!!" she blurted out.

"What…what?"

"We can still hear you!" shouted two male voices from the hospital room.

"Oops!"