"Ms. Stevens, are you home? This is Detective Greenly, Boston P.D. Can you come to the door, please?"
The accent is strong with this one, I think as I climb to my feet. The numb sensation only lasted as long as it took me to get my breathing completely under control and oxygen flowing properly through my body again, and I've spent the last few minutes just sitting on the floor, looking over the stun gun and familiarizing myself with the feel of it while I wait for the detectives to arrive. I'm strangely calm, which is probably good, as I don't want these cops to think I'm as crazy as I feel right now.
I look through the peephole and see three men, two in trench coats and one in a black leather jacket, standing awkwardly together in the hallway, but I can't tell much else about them through the warped view of the peephole.
"Could you please hold your IDs up so I can see them?" I say clearly, my eye glued to the tiny window. One at a time, they come forward and hold their picture ID up so I can verify their identities, although the tallest one in the leather coat has to be elbowed by the one with the goatee before he does it.
"Just a moment," I call, hastily stowing the stun gun in my purse. I'm not fully informed on the legalities of possessing something like this, but I know for a fact I couldn't answer any questions about it or its origins with anything like a decent poker face, so I'd rather just keep it out of sight.
I quickly unchain the door and throw open the deadbolt, opening the door to the three detectives and stepping aside so they can enter.
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting like that; it's just that Agent Smecker gave me specific instructions. Said I wasn't supposed to trust just anyone."
"Not at all," one of the detectives - Duffy, I think is his name - offers, smiling gently. He has kind eyes, I think randomly, but then I realize he's still speaking. "We wanted to introduce ourselves so you know who's watching out for you, but Detective Dolly and I are going to stay in the car downstairs and keep an eye on the entrance of the building while Detective Greenly stays up here with you. Agent Smecker asked us as a personal favor since he's helping us out with our own investigation."
"David," the taller detective in leather interjects suddenly. His face is a little pink, and he has a tiny, goofy kind of smile on his face. "You can call me David."
"I've never had to do anything like this," I admit sheepishly after a moment of awkward silence. "If you can stay up here at least a few minutes, I could make you some coffee and sandwiches to take down with you, especially if you're going to be down there all night. Is that...is that allowed?"
Duffy, apparently the spokesperson of this group, agrees and thanks me while Detective Greenly - David - hangs up his coat on a hook next to my door and immediately plants himself on the sofa. Detective Dolly stands awkwardly in the kitchen while I set up the coffee pot and get out my cheese and deli meat.
I glance at his ID, clipped neatly next to his tie, and ask him, "Is it alright that I called you Detective Dolly? That's what Agent Smecker said, and I used process of elimination to figure out it was you, but I don't think I can say your full name. I'm not the best with pronunciation."
Dolly takes the block of cheddar from me, smiling as he says, "Not a problem, ma'am. No one ever gets it right. Need a hand?"
Sighing and rolling his eyes at his partners, Duffy turns to me and says apologetically, "Just protocol, but I'm going to take a quick look around your place and get the layout, make sure it's secure. Is that alright, Ms. Stevens?"
"It's Grace, and sure." He starts off down the hallway, and I have a sudden thought. "Detective Duffy, I've had a friend staying over for a few days. He...his girlfriend kicked him out, so he moved some of his stuff into the spare room; that's why it's such a mess in there."
"Should we expect him tonight?" Detective Duffy asks, pausing with his hand on the doorknob of my bedroom as he glances back at me.
I shake my head silently. This man is alert, far more so than his partners I think, and I need to be careful what I say around him if I don't want anything to slip. The less said, the better. Hopefully, they won't ask me any details about the case I'm supposed to be a witness for. I'm not sure if they're allowed to, but I guess if they do I can just say I'm not supposed to talk about it.
I have a moment of disassociation again, shocked that I'm processing things so rationally right now. I should be blubbering and stammering, not able to get a coherent sentence or thought out, and yet here I am, entertaining three police detectives mere minutes after saying goodbye to the men they're hunting.
After a couple of minutes, it seems to occur to Greenly that he should follow his partner's example, and he takes off after Duffy, ostensibly checking out the layout of my apartment. Fifteen minutes later, Dolly and I have made a stack of sandwiches for all three detectives and filled up a thermos with a couple of pots of coffee.
Just before stepping out, Detective Duffy turns back and regards me seriously for a moment before saying, "Be sure to secure the door behind us. If you need anything, just tell Detective Greenly. He can radio for me an' Dolly; we're right downstairs."
"Thank you, Detective. I do appreciate what you're doing, I'm just...out of sorts tonight, I'm sorry."
He smiles again, and his eyes soften a little. "It's Brian. Call us if you need anything. Greenly, check your radio, make sure it's working." Then he and Detective Dolly exit my apartment, and I shut and lock the door behind him. After a moment's hesitation, I wedge the security bar into place before turning back to check on my
David grudgingly digs around in his jacket, pulling out a large, hand-held radio. He turns it on, checks the volume dial, and promptly sets the radio on my kitchen table. He picks up his plate of sandwiches and chips before heading back to the living room. He settles back on the couch, his mouth full and his eyes searching around the room for something.
Before he can ask, I set the remote on the coffee table next to his plate, and he smiles his thanks before flicking on the television. He immediately changes the channel to the replay that's just starting of last night's hockey game, an action that doesn't surprise me in the least.
"You watch the game last night?" he asks around a mouthful of ham and wheat bread.
I shake my head silently, sitting down in the armchair at the far end of the sofa. I get a sudden flash of Rocco in the same position from my dream and stand as abruptly as if I've been ejected from my seat by a giant spring.
Greenly eyes me cautiously, chewing for a moment before asking, "You alright, ma'am?"
"I'm fine, it's just...been a long...month," I finish lamely. Cover, girl, think of something else to say. "Why don't you tell me more about the game so I have a better idea what's going on. I don't follow hockey all that closely, so I'm going to need lots of details."
His face lights up like I've just announced fresh donuts will be delivered to his precinct daily, and he launches into an excited explanation about everything from general hockey rules to the specific records of each player involved in last night's game. The game continues in the background, with Greenly happily commenting on random plays as well as throwing in various bits of trivia that I could never possibly hope to understand. I only process a small fraction of what he's saying, and I remember even less.
"And Bourque scores! How many defense players ya know can score as smooth as that man there on the ice? Future hall of famer, right there, mark my words."
I nod gravely in agreement, absolutely clueless about anything he just said besides the word score. I'm pretty sure that means the puck went in the other team's net. I cast around the room, growing antsy and looking for something to pass the time. I briefly consider going to bed, but the last thing I want is to lie awake for hours in my giant empty bed, staring at the ceiling and not sleeping.
Again.
So I settle in to listen to Greenly talk about hockey, resigned that there is literally nothing else to do besides worry myself to death. Finally, the game reaches a break between periods, and Greenly stands, asking if I have any more sandwich stuff in the kitchen.
"I'll get it, don't worry. You're taking time from your night when you could be home watching the game properly instead of babysitting me." He laughs, grinning in what I'm sure he thinks of as a charming way, and I take his plate and return to the kitchen.
As I start pulling food from the fridge again, I hear what sounds like a quiet conversation taking place behind me. I glance around, startled, and my eyes fall on the radio sitting on my kitchen table. The television has been so loud that I couldn't hear the chatter until I was right next to it.
Thinking the other two detectives are trying to get Greenly's attention, I grab the radio and take a step towards the living room only to freeze as I hear the word "Yakavetta" over the handset. Glancing in the living room, I see Greenly is perfectly content arguing with the commentators on the screen about the statistics they're discussing and not paying a bit of attention to what I'm doing in the kitchen.
I turn away quickly, setting the radio in front of me on the counter as I continue to fix another couple of sandwiches (good thing I'm used to buying so much food) and bend down to listen more closely to the conversation transmitting over the speaker.
"-don't' know where I put it. I just want to check the details of the surveillance report. They've had Yakavetta's house on watch for months now, longer than this whole shit storm's been going on. Since a lot of Yakavetta's guys are the ones getting taken out, I want to see if surveillance noticed anything before that might be helpful, like somethin' on some of the guys who've been killed. We're just sitting here, might as well get something done."
"I didn't have the file last, saw Greenly lookin' at it on the way over here. Maybe he's got it."
The two detectives in the car must not realize their radio is set to transmit everything they're saying. I have no idea how walkie talkies work, so I guess maybe they somehow hit a wrong switch? I don't care how I'm hearing their conversation, though; what's important is that they're talking about the man Connor, Murphy, and Rocco are going after and the place they're going to do so. Feeling like my heart's in my throat, I lean a little closer and turn the volume a hair louder.
"Smecker said something about more guys being at Yakavetta's place than usual, real heavy guns. I wanted to see if there was anything in the report about who it might be. Yakavetta's gotta be nervous about everything that's been going down, so I bet he called in most of his guys that were out in the field. I wanted to see if we got any IDs on 'em, see if there's someone we might have a warrant on or if any of the dead guys showed up at the house more than anyone else, see if there's a connection we're not making. Might give us cause to go in and search the place." This must be Duffy talking; of the three of them, he seems to be the one to take initiative.
"You sure you ain't just tryin' to score points with Smecker by lookin' clever?"
"Fuck you, where's the fuckin' file?"
"I told you already, Greenly had it last. Ask him."
It takes me a second to sort through rapidly descending panic to realize they're about to call over the radio on purpose. I plate the sandwiches and take them and the radio over to David, handing both off to him. He looks up at me curiously.
"I heard them talking, and one of them said your name. I think-"
"Greenly, do you copy?" the radio interrupts.
"Yeah, what d'ya want?" he asks, his eyes already leaving me for the TV as he reaches for a sandwich.
"Do you have the surveillance file from the other case?" Duffy sounds impatient, and I wonder how common this sort of conversation is amongst the three of them. He seems to have to do a bit of reminding for his partners; I can definitely relate to that.
"Yeah, I got it, but Smecker told us to stay put once we were in place. You can't wait til the morning to look at it? Ain't like you can do anything about it tonight." He unconcernedly stuffs half a sandwich in his mouth as the second period of the game starts up.
There's a long pause over the radio, and if air silence could sound irritated, this pause would definitely fit the bill.
"Jackass. Fine. I'll look at it in the morning. And pay attention to your assignment and quit watchin' the fuckin' game."
The radio goes fully silent, and I suppose they must have switched it off properly this time. Detective Greenly glances at me, and I force a smile and shrug. Here's hoping he's not paying enough attention to see the sheer terror I'm trying desperately to concern.
"If you want to keep an eye on things out here, I'm just going to do a couple of things in my bedroom. If you finish your sandwiches before I come back, help yourself to anything in the fridge." At least my voice didn't shake.
Before he can say anything, I turn and scurry quickly to my bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind me. I lean against the door, my face falling into my open hands as my breathing speeds up along with my heart.
Okay.
Okay, breathe. Do not panic. Everything is fine, this is a situation that can be handled. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to lose my shit over.
The guys are just walking blindly into a deathtrap, that's all.
Author's Note: Many apologiess for the delay. Family stayed in town for holiday for over a week. Then I got stuck on the chapter I was working on near the end, had bit of a fit with the story, and nearly deleted the whole thing. Sincere thanks to Siarh (some pretty fantastic Walking Dead stories to her name, btw), who convinced me not to trash the whole story, and as always, thanks much to bleedingrose0688 (go read her story Her Defenses, and I mean like yesterday), who probably looked over this chapter almost as many times as I did. If you like what you're reading enough to keep reading, please drop me a word or two to let me know. Comments keep me going when I'm convinced that my writing is crap. Thanks for sticking with me this far.