I don't own the characters and make no monetary profit from this story. Peter Gunn and Edie Hart own each other. My profit consists of the fun I have with them.
A Lifetime in Eight Days
Chapter 18: The Cop and the Pop
The loud clatter of his freshly shined shoes had Lieutenant Jacoby wincing as he walked through the front lobby of St. Francis Hospital toward the elevators. After another early evening spent at yesterday's homicide scene he had stopped by the precinct to check on some other matters before heading out for a quick supper. As he passed wearily through the squad room Sergeant Davis had handed him a pile of messages. The fourth one down from the top of the stack was from Frank Gunn. Jacoby glanced at his wristwatch as he waited for the elevator. Gunn had called at twelve-fifteen this afternoon, over eight hours ago, right around the time Jacoby had gone off duty from an extended shift spent trying to do everything he needed to do to close the investigation into Peter Gunn's abduction and begin trying to track down the elusive new homicide suspect. The city's crime rate hadn't slowed down while he was working Pete's case and had only seemed to pick up since the PI had been found and lawful punishment meted out to his captors.
Doors to one of the elevators opened and disgorged a half dozen people, the policeman stepping in behind a nurse, an elderly couple and two nuns. He shifted the cloth bag he carried from one hand to the other and removed his hat as the elevator slowly ascended to the third floor. Jacoby held the door and allowed the others to disembark ahead of him before he started up the hallway toward his friend's room. Pausing outside the door, which stood about halfway open, he knocked softly and then quietly stepped inside. Pete was there but neither Edie Hart nor Frank Gunn was in the room, only Mrs. Henry, a middle-aged, prematurely gray-haired nurse who had been a fixture on this floor for as long as anyone could remember, even the Lieutenant. She always seemed to be around when Jacoby had occasion to be on the third floor to interview injured crime victims and perpetrators alike. He took a few more steps inside, setting his hat and bag on a chair near the door before silently approaching the bed.
"How is he?" He gave the nurse a quick glance and a little smile, most of his attention on his friend. He looked better. Someone had done a commendable job of shaving his face, the light layer of stubble still there more evenly cut than with the previous attempt. Both arms were lying on top of the light blue blanket and there appeared to be a hospital gown over him beneath the covers. His chest was rising and falling at an even rate, his head turned slightly to one side, facing the chair at the side of the bed. Those bruises that were visible were changing color, various hues of black and brown and green and yellow and purple covering Pete's face.
"He's resting much more comfortably," Mrs. Henry smiled back. "If you're looking for Miss Hart or Mr. Gunn they're downstairs in the cafeteria. Dr. Carson made them both leave so he could do a thorough examination before we changed the bed and gave him his bath. He said he didn't want to see either one of them back in here before nine." She glanced at the clock, its hands hovering at eight thirty-five. "I won't hold my breath that they'll be gone that long."
Jacoby nodded and turned away from the bed, his gaze coming to rest on the bureau in the corner directly across from the window. The top was almost obscured by vases of flowers and cards too numerous to count, the floor beside it blanketed with green plants, even a few balloons rising from a basket filled with chocolates. More cards were taped to the wall and he walked over to look at them. There were words of inspiration or brief comments accompanied by the names of people Jacoby knew and many he'd never heard of. Get well Pete. We love you. Wishing you a fast recovery. Our prayers are with you. Always thinking of you. Get better soon. God be with you. Missing you. Praying for your health. Jacoby smiled at the one from Pete's friend Wilbur – I feel so sorry for you, man (and by the way you look awful.) Finally with a sigh he picked up his hat and bag, saying he'd sit in the waiting area until Mr. Gunn and Miss Hart returned. Finding a chair facing the hallway he sat down, making himself as comfortable as possible, his thoughts with his friend.
He saw them as they stepped from the elevator. They didn't see him so he was given the opportunity to observe them freely as they walked down the hall toward Room 319. Her blonde hair was loose, falling to her shoulders and slightly obscuring her face. She wore dark green cotton pants and a white short-sleeved blouse and white canvas tennis shoes. Just regular everyday clothes that didn't flaunt her looks or her figure but most any man in his right mind would find her attractive nevertheless. Her left hand was captured in the older man's hand. Not in the manner of lovers or even friends for that matter, but as something fragile, something dear to one's heart, her importance to him obvious to even the most casual observer. Jacoby idly wondered how that had happened so quickly. Pete would be happy about it. The man wore a pair of well pressed gray pants with a white shirt and dark blue knit vest and he had on black dress shoes. His graying hair was cut short but not too short and he moved with a confident ease. The policeman continued to watch as Edie Hart and Frank Gunn paused at the nurses station. The elder Gunn turned his head to look in Jacoby's direction as the nurse on duty said something to him and the Lieutenant dipped his chin in acknowledgment. The man and woman had a brief, and on Edie Hart's part animated, conversation before she slipped across the hall into Pete's room and Frank Gunn turned to walk in Jacoby's direction.
Edie slid into her usual spot next to the bed, her blue gaze resting on Pete as she made light conversation with Mrs. Henry. She found out that Dr. Carson was well pleased with the improvements he noted in Pete's condition since earlier in the day. He seemed to be resting much more comfortably than previously and his sleep was a natural one, unlike the medication-induced one of the previous few days. His dosage of morphine had been cut, which might mean a slight but tolerable increase in his pain level, but would also allow a better opportunity for him to hopefully wake up and to stay awake for short periods of time. It all depended on how well his brain was healing from the concussion.
Slipping her hand beneath Pete's hand where it lay on top of the covers beside him, Edie gently curved her fingers around his and simply sat and watched him as he slept, her gaze drifting over his face, seeing beneath the cuts and bruises to the beauty of the man she loved. She enjoyed watching him sleep, had since the very beginning of their time together when they were first dating. She also loved watching him pretend to sleep.
On her days off during those early heady days of their relationship he would often appear at her door half an hour or more ahead of time, even after long hours on a job, and would end up stretching out on the couch while she was still getting ready for whatever activity they had planned for that day. He always told her he was just recharging his batteries so he'd be able to keep up with her. He got a laugh out of her every time. Later on in the relationship, when they got past that stage where they each felt they had to be going somewhere and doing something every time they were together, instead just finding contentment in being with each other whatever the circumstances, she came to the conclusion that he had been showing up early on purpose and was doing something other than sleeping. Sometimes he would come over and they'd talk and then make out for a while and afterwards discuss how they might spend the rest of the day. He'd lay on the couch for a nap while she took care of her chores. And she would catch him watching her. She would turn in his direction and he would quickly close his eyes. Or he would lie with his arm covering his eyes, but not enough that she couldn't see him looking at her as she moved around the room. Sometimes she would stop what she was doing and stare at him for the longest time but he never gave himself away. Then she would go back to her activity and she'd catch him doing it again. She never called him out on it and he never stopped doing it, even after their relationship progressed beyond dating to that of lovers.
Smiling to herself at where her thoughts had carried her, Edie returned her attention to Mrs. Henry, who was rambling on about several more cards that had been brought by or had come in the mail for Mr. Gunn. She mentioned they were on the bedside table. And another beautiful bouquet of flowers had arrived.
"You'd think he was a girl, the amount of flowers he gets!" Mrs. Henry went on.
Edie smiled and chuckled, her gaze landing on Pete's face again as she silently agreed with the woman.
She found herself looking straight into his eyes. Groggy, confused. But those beautiful blue eyes nonetheless. And this time he didn't try to hide that he was watching her.
Lieutenant Jacoby waited to sit down until Frank Gunn settled himself on a chair across from him. The man's handshake had been brief yet firm, his "glad to see you again" had been almost believable. They had met once before, several years ago, and the policeman had come away with the idea that Frank Gunn hadn't been overly impressed with him. He wasn't certain why. Perhaps he had been trying too hard. Pete had told him not to worry about it, that he dwelt too much on things, but he still couldn't help but wonder. The two didn't waste time on small talk, instead quickly muddying their shoes in the quagmire of events of the past week and a half.
"Tell me everything, Lieutenant." Gunn's gaze was direct and to the point. "Don't leave anything out, don't beat around the bush. And please don't think you need to be sensitive to my feelings. I'm aware of what happened to him physically. I've been looking at that for two days now. Just tell me about the case. Explain to me how Pete was involved so I can at least understand why this happened to him."
So the policeman explained as best he knew how and his friend's father listened as Pete himself always did, with a discerning ear and terse questions only when called for. When he finished his narrative Jacoby sat quietly in his chair, his eyes on the older man as he absorbed everything he had been told.
"That's what we know," the Lieutenant said after the silence dragged on until it became slightly uncomfortable. "Pete will be able to tell us more."
Jacoby didn't like the look Frank Gunn gave him when he said that and he decided he really couldn't blame him. The very last thing the man probably wanted to hear was that his son would be asked to give a statement to serve as part of the official record of the case.
"Why put him through that?"
"There are still a few loose ends we need to tie up. Pete will understand that." Jacoby watched as Frank Gunn raked the fingers of his left hand through his graying hair. He still didn't look happy but seemed to accept the policeman's reasoning.
Lieutenant Jacoby stood up and reached next to his chair for the cloth bag he'd been carrying. He placed it at Frank Gunn's feet and then sat down next to him, elbows on his knees and hands clasped in front of him as he stared at the bag instead of the man.
"These are Pete's things," he said, his voice at its gentle best. "Everything we found in that house where he was kept. A few of them I had to show to Edie earlier, a few days ago, before we found Pete. I couldn't leave those items with her at the time but they're here with everything else. It's not necessary for us to keep them at this point."
"Why?" Frank reached into the bag for a smaller bag that held his son's wristwatch and wallet. He turned it over in his hands, looking at it from front to back and side to side before returning it to the place he found it.
"Excuse me?"
"Why did you have to show her?"
"I thought at the time that I was trying to prepare her for the worst," Jacoby admitted. "Afterwards I came to the conclusion that I made her angry more than anything else." A weak smile forced its way to his lips. "An angry Edie Hart is not someone I want to face again anytime in the near future."
The policeman pulled at his collar and loosened his tie as he straightened in his seat, his back meeting the chair as he leaned in that direction.
"Look-" Jacoby couldn't decide whether to call the other man Frank, which seemed a little too personal, or Mr. Gunn, which seemed standoffish, so he did neither. "I know I owe you an apology for not contacting you early on in the investigation. And whatever you do please don't blame Edie. I talked her out of calling you, told her you didn't need that worry on your shoulders and that Pete wouldn't want it for you. That was wrong of me and it is something I will always regret. Edie doesn't deserve to be on the receiving end of any bad feelings you have about that." He stared at his folded hands for a while then raised his gaze again to that of the other man. "She did deserve to have you here with her so she wouldn't have to go through things alone, because no matter how much her friends have been here for her, I know she has still felt alone a lot of the time. And it was your right as his father to be here for Pete."
Frank Gunn's gaze swept over the policeman's face. He had been wondering whether Jacoby was going to bring up the issue or if he was going to have to do it himself. It made him feel better that the other man had done so, gave him more of an insight into his son's respect for him. But he would reserve judgment for the moment.
Jacoby's own eyes held an inquisitive gleam as he looked at the other man.
"I get the impression you and she haven't really talked about everything that happened."
"Edie and I have talked about everything that's important," Frank finally said. "We have a fairly good understanding of each other." He smiled at the speculative look he received from Jacoby. "But I appreciate your apology and your concern."
The Lieutenant nodded, not sure he would want to know about that understanding even if Frank Gunn was inclined to let him in on the secret. With a bone-weary sigh he got to his feet and grabbed his hat from the chair beside him, giving the older man a respectful nod as he turned to leave. He stopped in his tracks and turned back, his hand going to his back pocket for his wallet. Opening it he removed the bloodstained photograph that had been found with Pete's other personal items. He gave it a thoughtful look before handing it to Frank.
"This was with the things from Pete's wallet. I didn't think Edie needed to see it." Jacoby watched the elder Gunn run his thumb over the dried brown stains. "I'm pretty sure Pete will want to have it back."
Peter Gunn stared blearily at the face of the woman he loved. He wondered why she was looking at him that way. Did he have a smudge on his cheek? Without conscious thought he reached toward his face with the hand that wasn't being held like a vise in hers. It was as if his hand was moving in slow motion. As if it would never get where it was going. It seemed to lack the energy to make a concerted effort to do what he wanted it to do. As it was the hand never did reach its destination. The pretty blonde he couldn't take his eyes off of reached out and grasped it gently and moved it back down to rest at his side.
He heard some words, some strangely garbled words, from somewhere else and felt her release his hand and he watched her as she turned away. He tilted his neck as best he could to follow her with his eyes. In a moment she faced him again and he saw her lips move and she said something but the words and the movement didn't go together. His brow furrowed in a little frown and he squinted his eyes at her as he tried to figure out what she was asking. Water? Did he want some water? His forehead cleared as he saw the paper cup approaching, felt someone's hand beneath his head helping him to lift it forward because he couldn't do it on his own even with the head of the bed inclined, savored the cool wet liquid that passed his parched lips. It took two attempts to get the first sip swallowed but after that it became easier. As he continued to take small sips of water his gaze went to the person at his left side who was helping him to hold his head up. She was gray-haired and a little on the plump side and seemed to be smiling. She was dressed all in white and wore a name tag but he couldn't read what it said.
Taking the last drink of water from the small cup and swallowing, Pete's eyes drifted back to his girl, his head once again resting on the softness of the pillow. He felt her fingers around his hand again as she stood looking down at him and his eyes went to their hands. His fingers curled around hers and when he looked back up he saw that she was smiling. Then her face turned away and she was looking somewhere else. His gaze followed the direction she was looking and there was another person. He blinked his eyes and tried to focus. He blinked again and then again and again. Pop? His forehead creased in that little frown again. He felt his eyes getting tired and turned his gaze back to the woman at his side.
"Are you okay?" He felt his lips move but they were so very dry.
He watched as she filled the paper cup again and brought it to his lips. This time he was able to hold his head up by himself, his hand reaching up automatically to try to hold the cup as he drank with a greedy thirst, his fingers covering Edie's hand. All the while he stared with unblinking eyes at the man standing at the foot of the bed.
"Hi, son." Frank Gunn smiled and reached out a hand to rub his boy's leg.
Pete lowered his hand as he finished drinking, the expression on his face confused as he continued to gaze at the other man. Exhaustion crept into his voice as he spoke.
"Hi, Pop." His words became slurred. "What're you doing here?"
"Where else would I be?"
Pete frowned and looked toward Edie again. His eyelids drooped further.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, seeing her nod as his eyes continued to close. He heard her say she was fine. Just fine, he wasn't to worry about her. And he thought he felt the touch of her lips on his as he drifted into sleep.