RUNNING THROUGH THE EMERGENCY ENTRANCE AT NEW York Hospital, Sara raced toward the information desk, followed by Guff. “I’m looking for my grandfather,” she said to the nurse as panic flooded her voice. “Maxwell Tate. He was admitted here about an hour ago.”
Checking her clipboard, the nurse said, “He’s currently undergoing surgery.”
“Is he going to be okay?” Sara asked.
“He’s in the O.R. Should be out pretty soon.”
Wiping her forehead, Sara closed her eyes. “Please, God, don’t take him from me.”
An hour later, Sara and Guff were sitting in the sparsely decorated hospital waiting area. While Guff flipped through year-old magazines, Sara sat motionless, staring at the starkness of the light blue wall.
Eventually, Guff put his hand on Sara’s shoulder. “He’ll pull through. You’ll see.”
“It always happens with a phone call,” Sara said.
“What’re you talking about?”
“Everyone thinks that death comes when you’re in a hospital, surrounded by loved ones. But death is far more random and chaotic than that. It doesn’t ease in during a moment of silence. It leaps in – exactly at the moment you’re not ready for it.”
“Is that how you found out about your parents? On the telephone?”
“I should’ve been so lucky. In my case, the wonderful hospital administrators decided to leave the news on my answering machine. Can you imagine that? You play your messages and that’s what you get: ‘Sorry. Your parents are dead. Sleep tight.’”
“You just walked in and played it?”
“I had just gotten home from studying for finals,” Sara explained. “As long as I live, I’ll be able to picture that little blinking light. I can still do the message by heart: ‘Hi, this is Faye Donoghue. I’m the patient advocate for Norwalk Hospital in Connecticut, and we need to speak with a family member for a Mr. Robert Tate and a Mrs. Victoria Tate. It is an emergency.’ She had a slight tinge of a Massachusetts accent, but otherwise, there was no emotion in her voice.”
“That was all she said? She didn’t say they died?”
“She didn’t have to. I knew the moment I heard it. You get that feeling. I hit the play button right as I walked in the house, and since my feet were cold, I headed to the kitchen to warm up some cider. I heard a message from a classmate who wanted to study for torts; a message from Jared, who, even though he barely knew me, still wanted my outline for civil procedure; and then the message from Faye Donoghue – ‘It is an emergency.’ That’s what I kept hearing: It is an emergency, it is, it is. I played it back three times to make sure I heard it correctly.”
Afraid to say the wrong thing, Guff remained silent. Finally, he offered, “I’m really sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. It just taught me that there’s no such thing as a romantic death – and to always prepare for the worst. That’s the real lesson. As long as I do that, I’ll never be surprised when it actually happens.”
“That’s no way to live your life.”
“It’s not like I have a choice, Guff – that’s just the way my life works. Whenever I let my guard down, I get smacked in the face. As soon as I got excited about this job, I found out about the layoffs. The second I got excited about the case, I found out my husband was on the other side. When I got excited about chasing Victor, I found out he was the one chasing me. Then today, the moment I finally started feeling good about the grand jury, they called me about Pop. And since it happened right after that guy came into my office-”
“Sara, I know what you’re thinking, but this probably has nothing to do with that guy in your office.”
Sara stared skeptically at Guff.
“I’m not saying it definitely doesn’t. Just don’t let your fears get the best of you. When Pop gets out of surgery, we’ll hear the story.”
Ten minutes passed before a doctor entered the waiting room. “Are you Ms. Tate?”
“That’s me,” Sara asked, jumping up. “How is he?”
“He took a bad fall down a flight of stairs,” the doctor explained. “He has a fractured pelvis, which is why he needed surgery, and he has a Colle’s fracture.”
“A what?” Sara asked.
“It’s a break in the distal radius,” the doctor said. “His forearm. Probably happened while he was trying to break his fall. He also has a contusion on his forehead, which is nothing more than a bump.”
“Will he be okay?”
“Considering his age, he’s holding up pretty well. He’ll be out of commission for a while, but he made it through the surgery without incident.”
“When can we see him?” Sara asked.
“He’s in recovery right now. Why don’t you go find out where his room is. They’ll be bringing him up there within the hour.”
Twenty minutes later, Sara waited impatiently in her grandfather’s semiprivate hospital room, fluffing his pillows, rearranging the flowers she had brought, and making sure the TV worked. Finally, the door to the room opened and two orderlies wheeled Pop in on a gurney. He looked awful: His features were pallid, his arm was in a cast, and a gauze bandage covered the right side of his forehead. The moment Sara saw him, tears flooded her eyes.
“Pop, are you okay?” she stuttered.
“Alice?” he asked, his eyes still closed, his voice creaky.
“Pop, it’s me. It’s Sara.”
“Sara?” Confused, Pop slowly blinked his way to recognition. “Sara. Sara, you’re here. How’re you doing?”
“Terrific,” she said, wiping her eyes and laughing “How’re you?”
“I don’t know. I can’t feel anything.”
“That’s normal, Pop. Don’t be scared. Just tell me what happened. Were you attacked?”
He shook his head as the orderlies lifted him off the gurney and moved him onto the bed. “I lost my footing.”
“No one pushed you?” Sara asked.
“Pushed me?” Pop’s breathing was heavy, but he fought to speak. “I was… the subway stairs after lunch… I hear the train coming… then swarmed by a crowd of people… all trying to make it. I get bumped pretty hard… hit the concrete. Always… everything’s a fight in New York.”
Sara looked over at Guff, trying to gauge his reaction to the story.
“Did you get a look at the guy who bumped into you?” Guff asked.
Again, Pop shook his head. “I barely knew… what was happening.”
At that moment, the door opened and Jared rushed in. “How is he?” Jared asked, heading directly for Sara.
Sara enveloped her husband in a tight hug as the tears again filled her eyes. “He’s okay,” she said. Thinking about what the stranger said in her office, she held Jared even tighter. “He’s going to be fine.”
“I’m so sorry, Pop,” Jared said. “I just got the message.”
Pop reached out for Jared’s hand and grabbed it tight as soon as he approached. With a reassuring nod, Jared tried his best to look unaffected. But all he could think was that this was a warning from Rafferty.
“Don’t worry, we’re here,” Sara said, unnerved by the scared look that was still on Pop’s face. “We’ll make sure you-” Her sentence was interrupted by the ringing of the phone on the nightstand.
“That’s probably the head of the Transit Authority calling to apologize,” Guff said as Sara picked up the phone.
“Hello,” Sara said.
“Hi, Sara. I was just calling to see how your grandfather was doing.”
“Who is this?” Sara managed.
“You forget me so soon? We just met a few hours ago. Now why don’t you take my advice: Stop investigating me and start working on your case.”
“I know it was you,” Sara said.
“Me?” he asked glibly. “It’s a crowded subway. That’s no place for an old man wearing a navy-blue jacket and a pair of wrinkled khakis. Anything can happen if you’re not ready for it.”
“Tell me wh-” Before Sara could make the demand, she heard a click. He was gone. Pretending to continue her conversation, she added, “Great. Great. No problem. And thanks for all your help, Doctor.” Hanging up the phone, she saw that everyone in the room was staring at her. “That was Pop’s doctor,” she explained.
Jared’s eyes narrowed at his wife’s tone. “Is everything all right?” he asked.
“No, yeah, it should be,” Sara said. “The doctor just wanted to warn me that it may get worse before it gets better.”
At eleven o’clock that evening, Sara and Jared returned home. After hanging her coat in the closet, Sara headed straight for the bedroom. Jared followed.
“Considering he just went through surgery, I think he looks pretty good,” Jared said as Sara unbuttoned her blouse.
“Yeah,” she answered.
Noticing his wife’s blank expression, Jared said, “What’s wrong? You’ve been quiet all night.”
“It’s nothing,” she said, unhooking her bra and pulling off her skirt. When she was done getting undressed, Sara put on an old Columbia T-shirt and climbed into bed. “Do you think he’ll-”
“Pop’s a fighter,” Jared said, joining her under the covers. “He didn’t live this long by being fragile.”
Jared carefully considered Pop’s accident. It could’ve happened to anyone, he told himself. There’s no reason to think it was a message from Rafferty. Over a dozen times, Jared repeated the logic to himself. Not once did he actually believe it. Hoping to take his mind off the subject, Jared curled up next to his wife. “Please, don’t,” Sara said as she pushed him away.
Surprised, Jared took a careful look at her. Lying on her back, Sara was staring at the ceiling and holding on to the covers with a tight fist. Her eyes jumped with an anxiousness Jared hadn’t seen for some time. After what happened with Pop, she was clearly afraid.
Jared moved in closer and gave her a tiny kiss on her cheek. “He’ll be okay,” he said.
“That’s only part of it.”
“What’s the other part? Your parents?”
“No,” Sara said. C’mon, she thought to herself, ask one more time.
“Then what is it?”
“It’s the case,” she said. “I want you to drop the case.”
“What? Why would the case-”
“I don’t want to go up against my family, Jared. Life’s too short for that.” As she let her statement sink in, she watched his eyes for a reaction. When he looked away, she knew she had hit home. Hoping to close, she added, “I mean, you and Pop are the only-”
“Sara, I appreciate that you’re worried about Pop, but how many times do we have to go through this?”
“You don’t underst-”
“I do – I know what today did to you. And I love him as if he were my own family. I just…”
“You just what?”
“I just…” Jared wavered for a moment. With Pop hurt, she needed him. He didn’t want to turn away. Then, as always, he came back to Rafferty. That was all it took. Regardless of what else was happening, he wasn’t going to risk her life. “I know Pop’s injury is opening old wounds, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry.”
Sara knew he was right. It wasn’t just Pop, though. It was Jared. Turning away from her husband, she once again mentally replayed her conversation with the stranger in her office. That was where it originally unraveled. It started with him. Then the threat about Jared. Then Monaghan. Then the pain in Pop’s eyes when he was wheeled into the hospital room. Then the stranger’s phone call. Then the loss of her own parents. For Sara, it always seemed to come back to that. Shutting her eyes tightly, she fought against the fit of emotion that she could feel working its way up from her stomach. She gritted her teeth and breathed slowly. Gradually, she regained her calm. Wiping her eyes to show no sign of tears, Sara turned over and looked at the curve of Jared’s back. Without question, he was the most important thing in her life, and she’d do anything she could to keep him safe. Tapping him on the shoulder, Sara said, “I just want you to know, I’m only doing this because I love you.”
“I know,” Jared whispered. “I love you, too.”
“I think he was about to tell her,” Rafferty’s guest said, pulling off the headphones.
“No, he wasn’t,” Rafferty said.
“You weren’t even listening.”
“Believe me, he wasn’t,” Rafferty insisted. “He’s too smart to do that.”
“If you’re so confident about him being quiet, why am I still listening to their conversations?”
“Because after a day like today, anyone would be tempted to tell their spouse. Sara’s grandfather’s in bad shape – that really sent them at each other. But if Jared didn’t say anything tonight, you can believe he’s going to keep his mouth shut in the future.” Standing up, Rafferty adjusted his tie. “Now what do you think about her grandfather’s accident? Think anything’s fishy there?”
“Sounds like he just lost his footing on some stairs. Happens all the time. Why?”
“I’m not sure,” Rafferty said. “I’m just nervous that someone else may’ve put another piece on the board.”