There Is Light	There Is Light

 by Lea Barrett

  

 

 Disclaimer: If you recognize the characters, I don't own them. If they
are new to you, they are mine.

 Author's Notes: Heartfelt gratitude to Julia for her tireless beta work
on this story. She was invaluable in her comments, suggestions and
support. Also, thank you to my sister, Sandy, for once again sitting
through the read through and helping with direction and details.

 Story Notes: Be warned, there is major wolf angst here.

 

 

 Part 1 

 "Go. Go. Go," Ray Kowalski yelled, running from his hiding place behind
the blue Honda and following his partner to the next car, a red Buick
Skylark with more rust than paint. 

 "Down. Down. Down," he yelled. 

 Neither direction was necessary but Kowalski hadn't been working with his
new partner very long and as far as he could tell, the Canadian took too
many chances, especially for someone who didn't carry a gun. 

 Both men crouched behind the larger vehicle and glanced at each other.
Kowalski slipped his glasses from his pocket and put them on. He popped
up, firing randomly, just providing cover before dropping back down beside
his partner. 

 "Fuck! Where are they?" 

 "One is behind the red Toyota at approximately two o'clock. The other two
are hidden behind the white Suburban at six o'clock." 

 "Jeez, Fraser, how do you do that?" 

 "Well, I ..." 

 "Forget it. Tell me later." Another barrage of gunfire slammed into the
doomed Skylark. When they stopped shooting, Kowalski leaped back to his
feet and fired with certainty at the Toyota. A yell of pain was his first
reward when he ducked back down. Sirens were his second. Unfortunately a
feminine scream negated one of his prizes. 

 "Hey, I got a hostage here." 

 "Well, let her go," Kowalski yelled back at the voice. 

 "We're getting outta here. You stop shooting at us." 

 "You started it," Kowalski returned earning raised eyebrows from his
partner. 

 "Come on outta there," a boy yelled. The hostage screamed again. The
partners shrugged at each other and stood up together. Kowalski held his
gun below the edge of the car. 

 Their teenaged assailants stood behind the Toyota. A dark-haired boy with
deep pock marks on his face held a sawed off shotgun. A too young looking
boy held both a handgun and his bleeding shoulder. Actually he was holding
the gun against his shoulder. And a third boy with stringy red hair also
held a handgun. His was leaning the barrel against the skull of a pale
young woman. She was crying silently while his hand tangled in her auburn
hair. 

 The sirens grew louder until all parties involved could hear the first
cars pulling into the mall parking lot. 

 "We're using her t'get outta here," the red head yelled. 

 "No, you're not," Kowalski answered. "You're gonna put your guns down.
You're under arrest." 

 "We ain't under arrest 'til you read us our rights." 

 Kowalski rolled his eyes. "You moron. We arrest you first, then we read
your rights." 

 "That right, Tommy?" the red head asked. 

 "How do I know? I ain't never been busted," the dark haired boy answered
over the din of the sirens. 

 "I'm a cop. I know this stuff," Kowalski interrupted their chatter. "Now
put your guns down so we can take your buddy to the hospital. His arm must
be hurting." 

 "You shot him," Red-head accused, tightening his grip on the woman. 

 "You start shooting at cops and that's gonna happen." 

 "My arm hurts, Marty," the injured boy whined. 

 A bullhorn sounded from a few feet away instructing the group to drop
their weapons and put their hands on their respective heads. 

 Kowalski wondered if the half dozen units surrounding their little group
knew the good guys from the bad guys. He also wondered how the three
imbeciles across from him missed Fraser ducking out of their view. He had
already scurried past their hiding place and was making nice progress
coming up behind the suspects. Kowalski shook his head internally. Stupid
Mountie was going to get shot and probably get the hostage killed, he
thought. 

 "Yeah, put your guns down," Ray agreed with the bullhorn. 

 "We want a helicopter and a couple mil or we're gonna kill her." 

 Kowalski almost laughed. "Come out of the movies, kid. That don't happen
in real life." 

 "I ain't kidding. We'll kill her," Red-head said. 

 "Why? You think about that? That nice lady was probably having a
perfectly good day, not bothering anybody. She could be your sister or
something. You don't wanna kill her, do ya?" 

 "I don't wanna kill her, Marty," Pock-face said. 

 "Me neither. I ain't going down for murder. And jeez, I can't even hold
this gun anymore, my arm hurts so bad," Injured agreed. 

 Fraser chose his moment. He popped up and tapped "Marty" on the shoulder.
The boy turned around and Fraser punched him in the face. He bounced
against the Toyota clinging to his hostage and they both fell. With a
right hook, the Mountie nailed Pock-face who landed flat on the Toyota's
hood. 

 Apparently the Chicago police had the same idea as Fraser because a
moment later, six officers swarmed on the group. Before Ray could scramble
across the Skylark, the three car thieves and Fraser were all on the
ground being subdued. The woman had been pulled out of the mess but she
was bleeding from her forehead. Ray had his badge in his hand when he ran
over. 

 "Hey, hey, hands off the Mountie," he yelled pawing over the bodies until
he found the one he wanted. 

 Twenty or more officers were now involved and trying to sort through the
mess. Kowalski pulled Fraser to his feet and away from the group. He
noticed the Stetson laying on the ground and picked it up. Just as he was
about to hand it over to Fraser, Ray looked up to see a man in a suit
walking towards him. He had a badge clipped to his outside pocket. 

 "Sergeant Evans," he said holding out his hand. "Who are you?" 

 "Detective Vecchio, two-seven, I been chasing these idiots for the last
half hour." 

 "For what reason?" Evans asked. 

 "Breaking into a truck a few aisles over. We were on our way to my car
when my partner noticed them popping the lock. Soon as we confronted them
they started shooting at us." 

 "My guys'll take them in but we're gonna need statements." 

 "We chased them, we caught them and you're gonna take them in?" 

 "You're out of your jurisdiction, Vecchio. Besides you should get your
partner to the hospital." 

 Kowalski turned around to look at Fraser. His face was nearly paste and
he was holding his arm at a bad angle. "Hell, Fraser, why didn't you say
something?" 

 Part 2 

 Ray insists that I go to the hospital for x-rays. I don't actually
require x-rays to know that my wrist is truly broken. One of the police
officers managed to catch my arm between a potential car thief and the
pavement at a severely sharp angle. I heard the crack and the nauseating
pain rushed from wrist to shoulder. 

 Buried beneath several officers and at least one of the youths we were
pursuing, I was unable to extricate myself until my determined partner
broke the melee apart. He helped me up and pushed me to one side when the
ranking officer approached him. 

 I know Ray isn't happy about turning our arrest over to Evans, but the
Sergeant is correct in that we are out of our jurisdiction. To his credit,
Ray turns his attention away from this immediately when Evans points out
my injury. 

 I'm embarrassed when Ray starts calling for an ambulance and making a
fuss of having me sit down. Although, truthfully, the pain is significant
and while I hate being coddled I know a real injury when I feel it. 

 One ambulance arrives and since one of the suspects has been shot and the
former hostage is bleeding lightly from her head wound, the decision is
made for the three of us to share. Ray wants to leave the suspect for
another transport, but it's my turn to insist. The boy is bleeding. 

 The boy is loaded on to a gurney and an IV is inserted into his hand.
Within moments he is giggling incoherently. 

 I sit to one side and the woman sits beside me. 

 "Constable Benton Fraser," I say to introduce myself. 

 "Annie Claire," she says and a faint smile turns her mouth. She wisely
doesn't offer her hand since mine is useless. "You saved my life." 

 She says this as a statement. It's not a declaration of gratitude or a
condemnation for putting her in harm's way. To my mind, it's unlikely that
the youths would have killed her since Ray was showing success in talking
to them but I'm surprised that a civilian would recognize this fact. 

 We arrive at the hospital and are separated. The boy is taken for
emergency treatment and I am taken to a waiting room for x-rays. Annie is
led behind a curtain where a doctor is waiting. 

 Ray finds me quickly and settles beside me, practically lying in the
chair with his legs kicked out in front of him. He pulls his jean jacket
over to cover his holster and weapon. 

 He looks at me with a slightly pained expression. "Does it hurt?" he
asks. 

 "Yes, Ray," I answer and am reminded of the time that I exchanged the
same words with the real Ray Vecchio. 

 "They should give you something. Want me to raise hell?" I have to smile
at that. 

 "No, thank you kindly, Ray, I can wait." 

 "You could've got killed sneaking up on them like that." He's worried and
there's some anger in his eyes. He always seems just a bit angry and I
find it disconcerting. 

 "But I wasn't," I point out. 

 Apparently he has no response because he quietly settles further into the
chair. 

 A few minutes later, I am called. Ray smiles and looks encouraging as if
I need some sort of prodding to do what must be done. I can only nod at
him. He smiles much more easily than I do and it's an endearing trait. 

 The examination and x-ray reveal that my right wrist is indeed broken. A
young female doctor tells me that if I have to have a broken wrist, this
is the one to have. She uses a soft cast rather than plaster and tells me
not to use this arm for anything. She wants to see me in a few days to
make sure it's healing properly. I thank her just as Ray comes in. 

 "So, he gonna live?" I can't help but smile at his joke. 

 The doctor assures him that I'll be fine. She gives me a prescription for
pain before she leaves. Ray turns to me looking serious and I only have a
moment to consider why when he fills me in. 

 "We have to head over to the Consulate. Thatcher called. Says she needs
to see you right away." 

 "No explanation?" 

 "Nope. But, Frannie said she sounded pissed." 

 Part 3 

 Ray drops me off at the front of the building. He is adamant that he
doesn't want to accompany me inside. Apparently, Inspector Thatcher is
threat enough to keep him away. 

 I don't really blame him. My superior officer has made it clear that she
has no use for the Chicago detectives that I work with. She looks on them
with undisguised disdain and they return her sentiments. 

 As soon as I am inside, Constable Turnbull directs me to the Inspector's
office. Turnbull is honest and means well in all things but he's also one
of the most exasperating people I have ever met. 

 "Should I announce you?" he asks quietly as if his question is a secret. 

 "I don't believe that will be necessary." 

 "But if it were necessary then I should announce you." 

 "Yes, but it isn't." 

 "What isn't, Sir?" 

 "It isn't necessary to announce me." 

 "Ah." 

 "Thank you, Constable." I keep my irritation to myself as I knock on the
Inspector's door. 

 She looks up at me with a stern expression that softens slightly when she
sees me. 

 "Ah, Constable, please sit down." 

 She rarely tells me to sit. She prefers that I stand at attention in her
presence as is proper given her rank. I obey, but Ray would say that I sit
"at attention" also. She is also sitting. For several moments she stares
at the paperwork on her desk. I start to wonder if she has forgotten my
presence when she looks up. 

 "You've injured yourself again," she says, nodding towards my wrist. 

 "I'm sorry, Sir. Broken wrist. It shouldn't effect my duties." 

 "I would say the inability to use your right arm will likely effect your
duties, Constable. What happened this time?" 

 "I was subduing a suspect and..." 

 "Of course," she interrupts. "Vecchio or whatever he calls himself. I
should have known. Never mind, I don't have time for a long story, just
dictate it to Turnbull later and I'll read about it." 

 "Yes, Sir." 

 She sighs and sits forward, entwining her hands in front of her. Another
moment passes before she finally speaks. 

 "All right, the reason I called you. You remember, RCMP Councilor Henri
Cloutier's visit last week." 

 "Yes, Sir." 

 He is the man who pressed his advances on the Inspector both in her early
career and later when he came to Chicago to defend the RCMP against a
lawsuit aimed at me. He visited last week for a few days and while I
didn't notice anything untoward in his behavior with the Inspector, she
was markedly tense while he was here. 

 "He became aware of your living arrangements and made a fuss in Ottawa.
I've been ordered to give you forty-eight hours to find something else.
You can no longer live here, Fraser." 

 I live in my office at the Consulate. Less than a month ago my apartment
was burned down by a performance arsonist and I've been unable to find a
suitable replacement that will take wolves. 

 "Understood," I say and stand up. This news stuns me but I don't wish to
react in the presence of the Inspector. 

 "I am sorry, Fraser. I'll ask Turnbull to assist in the packing since
you're injured. And you have days accumulated, why don't you take some
time off to make suitable arrangements?" 

 My first instinct is to decline but my words don't follow suit. 

 "You won't need me, Sir?" I am hopeful that she won't rescind her offer.
Truthfully, I've been feeling tired lately and a break sounds appealing. 

 She thinks for a moment before she answers. 

 "I'll need you for a short time tomorrow morning since Turnbull has
already requested time for a dental appointment. After that, we'll manage.
We haven't been particularly busy of late." She pauses to look away from
me. When she looks up there is real regret in her eyes. 

 "I really am sorry about this." 

 "Thank you, Sir." It's all I can manage as I wait for her to dismiss me. 

 She does but she's clearly not happy as she starts to say something else
then changes her mind. When I leave, her demeanor has returned to its
usual professional detachment. 

 I go to my office and begin packing. My wrist has begun throbbing and the
work is slow with one hand, but the fire took most of my belongings so
there's little to gather, some clothing, the remains of my father's
journals, my bedroll and knapsack. As I stack these things in one corner,
I notice that Diefenbaker isn't in the office. I left him here today
because I knew that Ray and I would be spending most of the day in the
mall where he wouldn't be welcome. I almost call to him, remember that he
is deaf and then start a search for him. Sometimes he likes to play "Hide
and Seek". 

 Constable Turnbull takes approximately four minutes to make clear that he
hasn't seen Diefenbaker for several hours. He says the wolf whined to go
outside and Turnbull let him out but then became busy and forgot about
him. He apologizes for another three minutes before I can interrupt. 

 "Not to worry, Constable. He's not your responsibility." 

 Diefenbaker has disappeared before. He's usually gone a few hours and
then returns so I'm not worried, merely annoyed. Since his brush with
Animal Control a couple of years ago, he's extremely cautious and at the
moment, I have other things to think about. 

 When the front door to the Consulate opens, I start to make myself
scarce. I'm not on duty or in uniform and it would be best if I wasn't
under foot during business hours but I am stopped by the sound of her
voice. 

 "Constable Fraser?" Turning back, I recognize Annie Claire as she smiles
at me shyly. There's something familiar in her eyes that I can't quite
place. 

 "Ms. Claire, how nice to see you again." Her smile deepens and loses its
shyness. 

 "I was hoping you'd say that." There's an awkward silence. We don't know
each other and I can't guess why she's here or even how she knew where to
look for me. 

 She shifts nervously and then she asks me to dinner. 

 I've never been comfortable with bold women. I don't appreciate being
appraised as if I am a rare object or a challenge that must be overcome.
But, Annie Claire doesn't trigger my flight response. I find myself
accepting before my brain overtakes my instincts. I ask her to wait while
I retrieve my Stetson. 

 She offers to drive but I suggest we walk and she accepts. 

 There is a pleasant Italian restaurant a few blocks away and the weather
is mild. It would be warm outside if not for the breeze coming from Lake
Michigan. She's dressed in blue jeans and a pale yellow blouse with white
canvas sneakers. 

 "How are you feeling?" I ask. 

 "Little scratch. I think the bandage was just practice for the doctor.
How's your arm?" 

 "Broken wrist I'm afraid, but it's not serious." 

 "I thought maybe. It didn't look quite right." 

 She pauses momentarily before she asks, "You were chasing them for car
jacking?" 

 "Yes...well, attempted, since we noticed their activity before they
actually broke into the vehicle." 

 "That was lucky." 

 "Yes, very," I agree before it occurs to me that she may not actually
agree with her comment since she was put in danger during our pursuit. 

 "They didn't harm you, did they?" I ask. 

 "Not really but I do have a lovely bruise that should match a handprint
quite nicely on my arm." 

 "Was the injury photographed?" 

 "Oh, yes, the other officers took my statement and photographs for
evidence. They weren't very happy when they noticed you and the other
officer had already left the hospital." 

 "Ray told me that he'd take care of our preliminary statements. He felt
rather strongly that I rest since I was injured." 

 "So, what does a Canadian Mountie do in Chicago?" The change in subject
is abrupt but I'm just as happy to discuss other things. 

 "Many things." I describe my consular duties and my liaison activities
with Ray. She encourages me with questions and comments. By the time we
reach the restaurant we have developed a steady conversation. 

 The restaurant is large with eight-foot barriers of wood and etched glass
to separate the dining tables. The lighting is kept dim and the whole
effect is warm and intimate. 

 We have a thirty-minute wait. Annie suggests we go to the bar where we
take a small table towards the back. We order drinks when the waiter stops
by. She asks for cranberry juice mixed with white wine and I order
sparkling water. 

 "I don't think I could handle the discipline," Annie comments. At first I
don't follow but then I remember we were discussing the RCMP. 

 "It's something you learn and accept. Discipline, rank, duty, they're all
interrelated." 

 "You love it?" 

 "I can't imagine doing anything else." 

 "I wouldn't go back to the real world for anything. I used to be a bank
teller. The pay was bad, the hours were awful and they had rules for
everything. I couldn't take it so I quit to start my own desktop
publishing business... and fell flat on my face." She laughs and sips her
drink. "Then a friend of a friend of a friend, and so on, got me hooked up
with Jones and Dawson Publishing. It took a couple of years to really get
established but now I design book and magazine covers from home. I have
deadlines but I mostly work my own hours and it pays pretty well even if I
just work out the sketches and the ideas. It's ten times better than going
to work every day." 

 "It sounds fascinating." 

 "Wanna see my sketches some time?" She uses a strange voice and I know it
was meant to be seductive but the sound isn't quite right. She picks up on
my confusion. "Mae West," she ventures. 

 "Mae West," I repeat back. I have heard of the actress and somewhere in
my memory the reference clicks. "You were making a joke." I'm happy that I
understand. 

 "You know what they say about a joke that has to be explained?" 

 "No, what?" 

 "It's never funny." She says this with a smile and suddenly I realize
I've embarrassed her with my ignorance. 

 "I'm terribly sorry." She just laughs and puts her hand over mine. My
whole body seems to ignite at the touch. Adrenaline pours through me and
all at once I'm just glad to be here, to be with her. When she squeezes my
hand and I know she's feeling the same way, I'm overwhelmed. 

 Our table is eventually ready. She seems surprised when I pull out her
chair. My grandmother has ingrained certain manners into me and she was
strict in regards to proper etiquette with women. 

 After we're seated Annie turns serious. "I suppose you must be wondering
why I'd show up like this and then make you have dinner with me." 

 "I wasn't aware that I was being forced." I say this with a smile. I'm
trying to make up for ruining her earlier joke, but, in truth, I did think
it was odd for her to find me at the Consulate. While American women have
shown themselves to be far more forward than the females I knew in the
Territories, her invitation was completely unexpected. 

 "I know how this is going to sound," she says, almost apologizing. "But,
I haven't lived in Chicago for very long. Since my work is done on-line, I
can really live anywhere. And today was kind of a shock to my system. I
just... I couldn't just go home to my apartment. And I heard your partner
say that you were going to the Consulate and one of the officers at the
scene mentioned that you were a Mountie and you introduced yourself as a
Constable and I just kind of put things together and I know I sound like a
stalker but you were so calm and kind in the ambulance so I just thought
you might not mind. And...do you want to run screaming from the building?"


 She was speaking so quickly and so earnestly that I had to smile. There
is something genuine and fragile about her. I surprise myself when I take
her hand in a light grasp. 

 "I'm flattered." The smile she turns on me could light the room. 

 Part 4 

 Ray Kowalski parked in front of the Consulate. He was surprised to see
his friend and partner standing sentry. He had only been impersonating Ray
Vecchio for a few weeks but as he understood the rules, Fraser didn't have
guard duty anymore. Ray walked up the steps, stood directly in front of
him and grinned his best thousand-watt grin. Fraser didn't react but Ray
was amused by himself. 

 "I'll be waiting at the car, buddy." 

 The clock tolled twice and Fraser stopped his statue imitation. He
plucked his hat off his head and placed it on Ray's dash. His face was red
and damp as he tugged his collar open. 

 "You all right?" Ray asked. 

 "Fine, thank you. But, if its not too much trouble, could you stop for
water, please?" 

 "The Ice Queen is gonna kill you one of these days, Fraser. Did she not
look at the thermometer?" 

 "Someone has to stand sentry, Ray. It's part of my duty. Turnbull would
fair no better." 

 "It's stupid to stick someone out there in full uniform when it's ninety
degrees outside. It's a wonder, you don't just keel over." 

 "Well, I'm off duty now for the next five days, perhaps the weather will
break by then." 

 A moment passed while Ray gave his partner time to work up another
argument to defend Thatcher. 

 "What is our plan for the day?" Fraser asked, instead. 

 He knew Fraser was deliberately changing subjects, going for deflection
over defense but he didn't comment about it. 

 "We're gonna stop right here." He pulled into a convenience store. "And
after you come back with your water, we're gonna go to the station. Welsh
gave me a murder to look into. Some gang kid got himself killed." 

 "Any witnesses?" 

 "Yeah, one. She called 911. You wanna get a move-on there?" 

 "Certainly, I'll be just a moment." Fraser opened the door and went into
the convenience store. 

 A pretty woman with thick red hair walked past him. Ray watched Fraser
hold the door for her but he barely glanced at her beyond the "I'm polite
enough to acknowledge you're alive" phase. Ray openly stared. She was
tall, long-legged and trim, wearing a white golf skirt and red tank top. 

 Fraser returned to the car carrying two large bottles of water. He
climbed back, banging his wrist and wincing. Ray stopped watching the
red-head pump gas. 

 "Ouch," Ray said for him. "That's another reason you shouldn't be
standing in the heat. You're injured." 

 "I don't believe my wrist interferes with my ability to stand guard." 

 "How's it feeling anyway?" 

 "It's throbbing a bit." 

 "You're not taking the pain pills are you?" 

 "No, it's not necessary. There's only some minor discomfort." 

 "I'll bet," Ray said, knowing better. "So, you're off now, until you find
a place to live?" 

 "Yes. I looked in the paper this morning but there seems to be nothing
out there that will accept a large pet." 

 "Speaking of which, where is Dief?" 

 "I don't know. He took it upon himself to disappear yesterday and he's
neglected to return." 

 "Aren't you worried?" 

 "No. He's upset with me for leaving him home yesterday so he's just off
sulking somewhere." 

 "Is he usually gone this long?" 

 "Well no, but I did call Animal Control and he isn't there. I'm confident
he'll turn up on his own." 

 Ray decided Fraser knew his wolf's habits and decided not to worry
either. 

 "So after my shift, you wanna go apartment hunting?" he asked. 

 "Actually Ray, I have plans this evening." 

 "Really?" Kowalski was surprised. This was the first time Fraser had said
no to spending time together. 

 "Yes, I, uh, I..." he coughed through the rest of the explanation. 

 "What'd you say?" 

 "I have a date," he blurted. Ray took about three seconds to digest that.


 "A date? With a real woman?" 

 "Well yes Ray, of course with a real woman. As opposed to what?" 

 "No, no, I didn't think you were going home to boink a blow-up doll, I'm
just surprised." 

 "Boink," Fraser said but Ray ignored him. 

 "So do I know her? You finally making Frannie's dreams come true?" 

 "No it's not Francesca. She's Ray's, I mean, your sister and a friend. I
believe she's come to accept our relationship in those terms." 

 "You're wrong about that. But forget her, who you going out with?" 

 "Miss Annie Claire." 

 "Isn't that the...?" 

 "Yes, the hostage from yesterday." 

 Ray spent the rest of the afternoon alternately questioning and teasing
the Mountie. When the clock finally reached five, he almost felt guilty
when Fraser seemed so relieved. 

 Ray drove him to the Consulate and they agreed to move him into a hotel
the next day. 

 Part 5 

 Annie suggested we go to the Chicago Summer Festival being held in the
park that evening. I dress casually in blue jeans and a white button down
shirt. I feet somewhat guilty about spending the evening out when in good
conscience I should be moving my belongings but the Inspector gave me 48
hours and Ray has agreed to help me tomorrow. 

 Since I don't own a car and Annie does, she picks me up at precisely
seven o'clock. She is wearing a white sundress with tiny pink flowers
dotted through it. A cloth band pulls her hair away from her face but
leaves tendrils hanging along her cheeks. I try not to stare too openly at
the way her softly tanned shoulders lead to slender, delicate arms and
long, elegant hands. 

 "How was your day," she asks when I slide into the passenger side of a
blue Jetta. 

 "Uneventful. I spent most of the day working with Ray." I can't explain
why Ray Vecchio is actually Ray Kowalski and I don't want to lie so I
avoid last names. 

 "Your partner, right?" 

 "Yes." I don't ask but she launches into an accounting of her day. She's
been working on a book cover and the editor has rejected several ideas
over the last few weeks. She's hoping he will accept the latest draft. She
laughs when she threatens to "throttle him" if he doesn't. Her laugh is
deep and finds its way to my chest. 

 We have to drive around the park several times before she finds a parking
space. Even then we are forced to walk three blocks to reach the activity.
An amateur country band is playing near the entrance. I pay our admission
and she smiles when I take the money from the brim of my hat. 

 Once inside we linger a few minutes listening to the first band before
making our way into the larger crowds. The festival is filled with small
booths. Most are college age men and women peddling their crafts and
artwork. There are also several food trailers selling carnival snacks. We
spend the first hour looking over the many vendors. She admires a braided
silver bracelet inlaid with pieces of turquoise. It's not particularly
expensive and I purchase it after she moves on to the following booth. 

 We stop for a dinner of hotdogs and split an order of french fries
dripping with melted cheese. We both order iced tea. She likes sugar in
hers while I prefer mine plain. After we have settled at a bench, I
produce the bracelet feeling embarrassed. This is only our second date and
I wonder if I'm being presumptuous. My fears are needless when her eyes
sparkle at the gift. She tells me that I shouldn't have bought it, but her
excitement tells me I've done the right thing. She asks me to clasp it for
her. We both admire the way it sparkles on her wrist and I realize that I
want to kiss her. But my grandmother's training moves to the forefront and
I know better than to risk the contact so early in our relationship. 

 Annie surprises me a moment later by taking my face in her hands and
kissing me softly on the lips. Her mouth is warm and soft and sweet from
the iced tea. I blush vividly and she blushes after. 

 "I'm sorry. Am I being too forward?" she asks with a worried smile. 

 "No, not at all. I quite liked it." I am doubly embarrassed with my
boldness when I blush again. 

 "Come on," she says saving me from further discomfort. She stands and
starts cleaning up our trash. I help and soon the remnants of dinner are
gone. She is still drinking her tea. When she takes my hand her fingers
are cold from holding the drink. 

 A few minutes later we stop in front of a tent that is vibrating with
loud music and loud voices. Annie tells me that it's called the "beer
tent". She points out various individuals, commenting on their level of
intoxication. One woman wearing a dress that is nearly short enough to be
a blouse catches Annie's attention. We both watch her stumble between
three different men. To stand here, watching her so intently for no other
reason than to see what will happen is somehow exciting. It's a forbidden
activity. Annie laughs when the woman starts to sit on a stool and misses.
Two of the men reach out to catch her and she spills her drink on one of
them laughing drunkenly. 

 Annie leads me away, but just as we're passing the exit flap of the tent,
two men come out arguing. Both are obviously too inebriated to understand
their intention to brawl. I glance for a police officer, hoping that I
won't be forced to take action. One man shoves the other and he loses his
balance nearly crashing into Annie. She sidesteps gracefully even as I
start to pull her out of harm's way. With her free hand she pushes him and
he lands hard on his posterior. His opponent starts to laugh and I'm
concerned that the one on the ground will not take well to being a joke. I
am right. 

 He rises as quickly as he can given his drunkenness and takes a menacing
step towards Annie. I start to move in front of her when she moves in
front of me instead. 

 "You wanna fight?" she says belligerently and I know I'm about to be in a
brawl. 

 "Wh-what," the man stutters clearly as surprised as I am. 

 "Oh, sorry, am I suppose to be scared?" 

 "You little bi..." 

 "Ah, no," I say firmly, interrupting him. He apparently notices me for
the first time. 

 "Call it a night, gentlemen," I tell them. 

 The two men who were willing to fight each other are now sizing me up to
see if they'd rather go for me. Annie hasn't flinched or backed down and I
have to admire her courage. They finally decide to buy each other a drink
instead. I choose to ignore their disparaging remarks as they enter the
tent. 

 Annie turns back to me with a grin. She is riding adrenaline now and her
face is pink with excitement. "That was fun," she says and means it as she
starts leading us back towards the arts and crafts area. 

 We stay at the festival until the booths start closing. We've been
holding hands for a long time and when she lets go, I feel a pang of loss.
She tells me she wants to use the "Ladies Room". I realize that is
probably a good idea and we separate outside. 

 I come out first and she joins me a moment later. She has tidied up her
hair but in truth I had enjoyed the way the wind tousled it. This time I
take her hand and she smiles as she leans against my arm with her head
against my shoulder. I can hardly breathe from the feel of her. 

 "Do your parents live here in Chicago?" she asks while we walk the
darkened streets to her car. 

 "Both of my parents are deceased." I think I must sound cold. 

 I expect the customary response of condolence but she surprises me. 

 "My parents are gone too. My mom died when I was pretty young and then my
dad went last year." 

 "How old were you?" She looks surprised for a moment. I don't know why I
ask but her situation sounds so familiar to myself. 

 "You mean my mom? I was eight. She was in a car accident." 

 "My mother passed when I was six." 

 "It's too young to be without a mother." I know she means for both of us.
Next she asks about my father. 

 "He was murdered a couple of years ago. That is, in fact, why I live in
Chicago. I came here looking for his killers." 

 "That must have been really difficult." 

 "Yes, it was." 

 She squeezes my hand and leans closer to me. I wasn't looking for
sympathy but somehow it seems important to tell Annie everything about
myself. 

 "Did you find them? The ones who killed him?" 

 "Yes." I answer, nodding. 

 "Was he a Constable like you? Your dad, I mean. Was it in the line of
duty?" 

 "He was a Sergeant and yes, he was ambushed during the course of an
investigation." 

 "I can't imagine that. It was hard losing my dad but he'd been sick. We
had a chance to talk, to say good-bye." 

 Remembering my father's frequent post-death appearances makes me smile
for a moment. Then I remember Ray Vecchio's last phone call to me and his
unexpected departure and it makes me realize how much I wanted to see him
once more before he left. 

 "What?" The concern in her voice tells me she has noticed my sudden
melancholy. 

 "I was just thinking that saying good-bye is important." 

 She steps in front of me, leans up easily and kisses me. This embrace is
firmer than the last and then I feel the tip of her tongue against my
lips. I open to her willingly. She deepens the kiss and the feel of her
warm mouth filling mine is almost more than I can bear. I pull her as
close to me as possible wanting to feel every inch of her body pressing
against mine. Her hands roam against my back. She is stronger than I
expected. 

 She is warm and exciting. I don't remember the last time I felt like this
and then, of course, I do remember. But there is no comparison between
Victoria and Annie. The time I spent with Victoria was rife with guilt and
desperation and fear. I feel secure holding Annie. 

 Secure until I remember where we are. I can feel the red seeping into my
face from engaging in such an intimate display on a public street. Even an
empty street is still public. 

 When she pulls away and takes my hand again I think she must be feeling
the same way. I've clearly overstepped our boundaries. I wonder if she'll
drop me off with some polite nonsense and then, perhaps disappear from my
life. It's her right, of course, but the thought engulfs me with sadness. 

 This is quickly replaced with longing when we reach the car. She pushes
against me bodily and I stumble before she presses into my arms again. I
have said that I don't respond to bold women. Annie is disproving this
fact. 

 Part 6 

 Moving out of the Consulate was a fairly simple and painless job. Fraser
didn't have much left over after his apartment burned down. He was
distracted though and Ray wondered if something happened during his date. 

 Once they moved all the boxes from one place to the other, Fraser
admitted that he was starting to worry about Diefenbaker. Ray volunteered
to help canvas the neighborhood to look for him. Unfortunately they wasted
the rest of the day without finding anything that might lead to a missing
wolf. 

 When they finally decided to give up the search, Ray went back to the
hotel with him and they ordered a pizza. 

 "He'll turn up," Ray said confidently as he settled in the only chair in
the room. Fraser sat across from him on the bed. They were both dressed in
jeans and they were sweaty from their day. 

 "He can take care of himself." 

 "Yes of course he can," Fraser answered but he sounded unconvinced. 

 "He's probably just shacking up with some cute poodle." 

 "He actually had a female companion not long ago. He fathered a litter of
puppies. We haven't seen Maggie in more than a year though." 

 "Did you check with the owner?" 

 "She hasn't seen him." 

 "So how was your date?" he asked, changing the subject. He felt bad about
teasing him so much the day before. 

 "She's delightful." 

 Ray grinned at him. 

 "What's she like?" 

 "In what way?" 

 "She's pretty, I remember that," he coaxed. 

 "Yes, she's very pretty. She's engaging to speak with. She told me about
her family and I told her about mine. She has a quick mind, a good sense
of humor." 

 His voice was soft as he stared off into the memory for a moment. In the
next breath he seemed to force himself back to the present. With an
embarrassed smile he shifted to look out the window. 

 "You're kind of falling for her, aren't you?" 

 Fraser turned back to his partner with a frown. 

 "We've only seen each other twice, Ray." 

 "Yeah, well, I knew about Stella in five minutes. And I was just a kid
then." 

 Fraser hesitated. He stood up and walked over to the hotel window to look
into the dark street. With a soft exhale, he turned around and placed his
hands behind him on the window ledge. 

 "I'm not given to instant emotions, Ray. I like to think things through.
Even with Victoria." 

 "That's the chick that set up you and Vecchio?" Fraser swallowed and Ray
realized with a pang that for a moment he had forgotten that it wasn't
Vecchio sitting there with him. 

 "Yes. It took nearly freezing to death to realize I loved her and even
now when I think back, I'm not sure that I did." 

 "It's different with Annie?" 

 "I felt an almost instant bond with her. It's as if she was part of me
before we met. I can't say it was 'love at first sight' because it didn't
strike me on the trip to the hospital but when she came to the Consulate,
it was instantaneous." 

 "There's nothing like falling in love, Fraser. It's supposed to be
overwhelming." 

 "When I'm with her, everything I am is alive. I feel like I'm breathing
for the first time. When we're apart it's hard not to think about her." 

 "If you could stop thinking about her, then it wouldn't be the real
thing." 

 "Being in love has not been a positive experience for me," Fraser said,
seriously. 

 Ray just shook his head as he stood up to answer the door. 

 "You gotta relax and enjoy it, buddy. All women aren't psychos out to
kill their lovers." 

 Ray didn't notice Ben's shiver. Ray Vecchio had said nearly the same
thing after Victoria left. 

 Part 7 

 Ray typed the final period on his final report for the day. He pulled it
from the typewriter, scribbled "Detective Ray Vecchio" at the bottom and
stood up to put it in Lieutenant Welsh's in-basket. The phone on his desk
rang after he took about two steps. He spun on one heel playfully and
picked up the receiver. 

 An unfamiliar voice greeted him from the other end. "Vecchio? This is
Officer Dave McGuire from the 18th." 

 "What can I do for you?" 

 "A buddy of yours, Carlisle from the 22nd, said you were looking for a
missing dog and I think I found him. Wasn't wearing a collar, right?" 

 "Right. Looks like a Husky mix." 

 "You said he was gray?" 

 "Yeah, kind of gray and white. You got him at the pound or what?" 

 "Nah. Sorry to tell you but the dog I got is dead. Looks like he got hit
by a car. Whoever did it must've felt bad though cuz they dumped him in
front of a vet." 

 "It's gotta be the wrong dog, McGuire. This dog was like extra smart. He
wouldn't have got hit by a car." 

 "Hope you're right but you might wanna come down and take a look. You got
a pencil?" McGuire gave him the address of the veterinarian. "He's pretty
messed up. Looks like he was facing right into the car." 

 Kowalski thanked him and hung up with a frown. He considered calling
Fraser but decided against it. There was no point in scaring him if it
wasn't Dief. 

 On the drive over he tried to convince himself that a mistake had been
made but the wolf was deaf. A speeding car could easily have hit him
because he wouldn't hear it coming. 

 Ray had spent Sunday morning calling some of his closer buddies to ask
them to watch for Diefenbaker. He figured that if enough cops were
looking, someone was bound to notice him. He was hoping to find the
missing wolf and surprise Fraser with the return. He never expected a call
like McGuire's. 

 What if it was Dief? How would he tell Fraser? 

 Kowalski parked behind the vet's office. McGuire told him to knock on the
Emergency Entrance door and an assistant would let him in. A
twenty-something boy answered the door. 

 "Detective Vecchio," Ray said, flashing his badge. 

 "Brian Munson. You're here about the John Doe?" 

 "That's right. I wanna see if he belongs to my buddy." 

 "We have him back here. I gotta tell ya though, he doesn't look like a
dog to me. I mean he does, but there's something else about him." Ray felt
his heart sink. A half-wolf wouldn't look like a regular dog. Brian led
the way through a small reception area and down a short hall. He stopped
at the last door and put his key in, then hesitated before opening it. 

 "He was seriously hurt. I don't know if he died on impact but he was gone
when we found him this morning. He looks bad, okay?" 

 "I heard. Let's just get this over with." 

 They entered the room and Ray was surprised to find that it looked
similar to the morgue at the station. He hated the morgue. He took a
breath and rubbed his arms against the cold. Brian pointed to a metal
table holding a mass of mottled gray fur. 

 "Oh, God," Ray whispered. He walked over slowly. He recognized the fur
and the size. He looked around towards the front of the animal and
understood all of their warnings. He could see bits of bone and brain
through the crushed skull. The chest was caved in and the front paws were
twisted and mangled. Ray closed his eyes to steady himself. He opened them
again and forced himself to stay detached. He needed to be sure. He looked
at the animal from head to tail circling the table slowly. 

 The markings were right. The size and shape were a match. He couldn't
tell anything from the head but it had to be Diefenbaker. 

 "It's him," he muttered before fleeing the room. 

 Brian followed him out at a slower pace. When he stepped into the still
light evening, he found Ray facing the wall and leaning forward against
one extended hand. The assistant approached him slowly. 

 "I'm sorry, Detective Vecchio." 

 "Look, can you, uh, hold him? I gotta tell my buddy and then he'll tell
you what to do with him, okay?" 

 "That will be fine." 

 "I'll pay for whatever, okay? Here's my card." Ray dug a business card
from his billfold. "I'll call you tomorrow." 

 Ray slid slowly inside the car. He leaned his head against the steering
wheel feeling hot and sick. 

 Putting the car in gear, he almost drove to the Consulate then remembered
that Fraser would be at the hotel. He had been working with Fraser for
only a few weeks. They were becoming friends, but he wished this news
could come from someone closer to him. Unfortunately the only person close
to Fraser was undercover and unreachable. Ray would have to take Vecchio's
place in this as he had in everything else. 

 He parked in front of the hotel and walked inside. When he reached
Fraser's room he half-expected to hear Diefenbaker sniffing at the door
and whining. The wolf had taken an instant liking to Kowalski and always
seemed glad when the detective visited. Ray shook off those thoughts. His
own grief could wait; this time was Fraser's. 

 He knocked on the door and waited. When there was no answer he leaned
against the wall by the door. The fake wood felt rough and warm against
his back. He straightened up remembering that Fraser had another date with
Annie Claire. Ray went back to his car to wait. At least he could run the
air conditioner every so often when the heat became too much. 

 Part 8 

 I wake up at two in the morning. Beside me lay the precious body of my
lover. My lover. It has been too long since I've applied that word to
anyone. She's warm and graceful and giving. She has snuggled against my
side with one long arm lying across my chest and I can feel her heart
beating above my own. 

 I stroke her hair and her back lightly. I want to wake her so that I can
take her in my arms again and feel all of the things we gave each other
before. But I won't disturb her sleep. I know that I should rest as well
but right now I'm too happy to close my eyes. I feel like a child on
Christmas night with miracles so close and possible. 

 She murmurs softly rubbing her face against me. The simple movement
arouses me so that it takes a good deal of concentration not to act on my
impulse. As she curls closer against my side, I'm overwhelmed by my
feelings. There is joy. Contentment. Disbelief. All of these things are
welling in my soul as is frustration at having to control myself and fear
that this isn't real. 

 I continue touching her lightly. 

 She wakes slowly, her eyes opening with the innocence of a child. She
smiles sleepily and kisses one nipple, then the other. A few moments later
we are active again. I want all of her at once and I want to learn each
part of her slowly. Her hands are curious and bold and I am lost in her.
When we sleep again, we're breathless and contented and damp. 

 The next time I wake, there's sun warming us through her bedroom window.
She's awake and staring at me with soft green eyes. Annie smiles but this
time it is mischief in her gaze. She strokes me softly, then with more
purpose. In moments I am under her power and she tortures me for some
time. It's wonderful and painful at the same time until finally she takes
pity on me and we reach completion for a third time. 

 It's after nine in the morning when we rise. I get up first to shower.
She languishes in bed until I emerge wearing my jeans and shirt from the
day before. She kisses me before going off to clean up while I rummage
around in her kitchen searching for coffee, filters and cups. She joins me
on the tan couch in her living room, settling with her back against my
chest. I have one leg on the sofa and one on the floor. 

 She holds a hot cup in her hands but sets it down when I nuzzle the soft
spot below her ear. She tilts her head to give me greater access, sighing
softly. The sound is intoxicating. 

 "Your grandparents raised you?" she asks, abruptly. I pull back to glance
at her. She's grinning because she knows she startled me. 

 "Yes. They were traveling librarians. We spent a good deal of time moving
from one place to the next." 

 She relaxes against me again. 

 "Did you like it or were you lonely?" 

 "Both, I suppose." I'm surprised by the candor of my answer. There seems
nothing that I can't say to her. 

 "Were they nice to you?" 

 "They met all the needs of a small boy. They were elderly and I imagine
it was a difficult adjustment to have a six year old in the house
full-time." 

 "Probably. But were they nice to you?" 

 I have to think about this. I remember a great many good things about
living with my grandparents. They were not demonstrative but they were
good listeners. They did not tolerate crying or weakness but they enjoyed
laughing. I know they loved me though I never lost the sense that I was a
burden to them. 

 "They treated me well. They were very good to me." 

 "You're evading." 

 "Ray says I tend to." 

 "You do. And right now, I think that your grandparents weren't nice to
you. I think they made you feel alone and unwanted but you don't want to
say anything bad about them." 

 I hesitate again. I want to make her see that they weren't uncaring. 

 "When I first came to live with them I was grieving deeply for my mother.
I cocooned myself from them. I suppose I was afraid that they would leave
me as well. My grandmother used to sit with me in the kitchen. She
wouldn't speak. She would sit there quietly while I ate a snack or worked
at some schooling task or read. She wouldn't touch me except to brush the
hair from my forehead from time to time. She always made certain that she
was physically close to me. It was comforting and grounding. And it was
kind." 

 Annie turns and kisses me. With light fingers she brushes against my
forehead. 

 Awhile later the coffee is depleted and early afternoon is upon us so we
decide to go to my new residence where I can change clothes. 

 It seems I can't stop touching her and it's mutual. She is always leaning
against me or I'm holding her hand or stroking her hair. Her hand is at my
back or around my waist. We are inseparable even in the warm summer sun. 

 She drives us to the hotel although it's close enough to walk. She says
that six blocks is over a mile and is not walking distance. I agree to
drive since it's warm and I would agree to almost anything that she asked.


 "You live here?" she asks as she climbs out of the car, frowning at the
hotel. She doesn't give me the chance to answer but I imagine it was a
rhetorical question. 

 Annie meets me on the passenger side of the car. She kisses me lightly
then whispers, "Tag, you're it!" And runs for the front door of the hotel.
I chase after her but she wins easily since I didn't understand she wanted
to race until she was halfway to the finish line. When I catch her we're
both laughing and I think how rare it is that I actually laugh. 

 I open the door and follow her in. We're both surprised to see Ray
standing there in the hall outside my room door. He has obviously been
waiting as he looks rumpled and tired. 

 "Hello, Ray," I say, "You remember Annie?" I am a bit embarrassed since
it's obvious that I've been out all night and there can be only one real
explanation. 

 "Hi, Fraser. Ms. Claire, how're you doing?" If he realizes where I've
been, he doesn't show it. 

 "Ray, right? Call me Annie." He nods but doesn't speak or smile. This
makes me look at him and I know that something is wrong. 

 "I need to talk to you, Fraser. Got a minute?" I glance at Annie. Ray
clearly is not including her but I can't leave her in the hall. "If you
don't mind, Annie," he adds. 

 "Of course not. I'll wait here." I consider arguing but Ray is pale and
nervous. She kisses me and I can feel some tension from her. I want to
tell her that Ray wouldn't make a request such as this without good reason
but to explain would only draw attention to the slight he's paid her. 

 I follow Ray into my room and he asks me to sit down but I remain
standing. 

 "What's wrong, Ray?" 

 "I have some news. It's...it's bad news." 

 "All right." Again my grandmother's training is at play here. Whether
it's punishment, tragedy or surprise, I face all things directly. But my
heart is frozen as I wait to hear that Ray Vecchio is dead. 

 "I asked some of my buddies to keep an eye out for Dief. Last night he
turned up at a vet's office." 

 "Is he hurt?" My emotions are torn at once, relief that this isn't about
Ray Vecchio and terror at the thought of Diefenbaker. If he were injured,
Ray would be taking me to him, not discussing it so I think I know what he
will say next. 

 "I'm sorry, Fraser. He got hit by a car. He didn't make it." 

 "Ah," I say and realize nothing more will come out. 

 "I went down there and I, uh, identified him. I...I'm so sorry, Fraser." 

 I can't speak. I find I can't even make my mind form a question.
Diefenbaker is my companion. In many ways he's my best friend. He has
saved my life on countless occasions, has been with me through the loss of
my father, Victoria and Ray Vecchio, has stayed with me during this exile
from Canada. In my life, when no person has remained constant, I have had
Diefenbaker. 

 Ray hugs me awkwardly. It's natural for him to reach out; it is unnatural
for me to accept. He opens the door to my room and motions for Annie to
come in. 

 I still can't talk. I watch Ray whisper to her but my normally sensitive
hearing is blocked by the sound of rushing air through my ears. A moment
later she is in my arms. She's holding me, whispering to me and I am
intensely aware of her heat. 

 I don't know when we sat on the bed. I only know that her arms are strong
around me. I can't understand how she knows the importance of Diefenbaker
but she does. At some point Ray leaves. I'm aware of his departure and the
apology for going but it's as if he's in a tunnel. Annie stays. 

 Part 9 

 Kowalski drove back to the station after his pager went off. He knew the
lieutenant was not going to be happy about his extended absence from work.
Dead animals and distraught partners notwithstanding, he had a job. 

 He hoped to finish up some paperwork and phone calls then go back to the
hotel. He was grateful that Annie was there. Fraser responded to her
comfort much more easily than to his. He figured that made sense since
they were obviously together all night. He was happy that Fraser found
someone to love but it was unfair that he had to lose his best friend at
the same time. 

 Ray walked into the station. He waved at Detective Jack Huey as he passed
the lunchroom. Jack called to him to stop. 

 "I heard about the wolf. You tell the Mountie yet?" 

 "Yeah, just left him." 

 "Was it bad?" 

 "What do you think?" Ray asked sharply. 

 They were both saved from a confrontation when Welsh called to Kowalski
from down the hall. 

 The lieutenant didn't speak to him until they were inside his office and
the door was closed. Ray put his hands in his pockets and waited for the
lecture. Welsh settled himself behind his desk. 

 "How's Big Red?" 

 "Ah, you know." 

 "No, I don't know. Why don't you tell me?" 

 "It was bad, Lieutenant. You know how he is about that wolf. He was like
a person to him. He kind of went into shock, shaking real bad, didn't say
anything. He turned so white I thought he was gonna pass out for a
second." 

 "You could've called me when I paged, Vecchio. You didn't have to leave
him alone." 

 "Figured you wanted me back. I didn't think you'd consider the wolf a
good reason not to be here. Besides he's not alone." 

 "He's not?" Welsh asked, surprised. 

 "Nope. Fraser's got a girlfriend. She's with him." 

 "No kidding. Is it serious?" 

 "I don't know. Maybe. He likes her a lot." 

 "I knew he and the Inspector would get down to business sooner or later."


 "It's not the Ice Queen. It's the hostage from that situation at the
mall." 

 "Really." Welsh sat back, looking amused. "In the last two years that man
has run from everything in a skirt except...well, let's just say that I am
truly surprised." 

 "Yes, Sir. Well, if that's all you needed I got some stuff to do before I
head back over there." 

 Welsh dismissed him after telling him to call the ASA assigned to his
gang-related murder case. Ray returned to his desk feeling like he just
left one of his mother's koffee klatches. 

 His called his ex-wife, Assistant State's Attorney, Stella Kowalski. She
wanted to know if he had found any other witnesses to the murder of Eric
Crothers. He hadn't. She reminded him that a drug addicted prostitute,
even one that goes to high school and keeps a part-time job would not
convince a jury. Ray already knew that even if he didn't like it. 

 "Delfina will stand up in court," he argued. 

 "She may be convincing in your squad room, Ray, but even if she had
credibility, it was dark in that alley. I'm sorry there's just no way we
can convince a jury that she could make a clear identification." 

 "But she knows Don Parks and she recognized him." 

 "The defense attorney would rip her to shreds in the first five minutes."
He could hear Stella's irritation quickly edging out professionalism.
"Find me another witness. Find me the second suspect, the one she didn't
recognize. Find some solid evidence that puts Parks in the alley with
Crothers. Right now, I have a sworn statement from two brothers that he
was playing pool at their house. If Parks is guilty, then you'll have to
give me more than what I have." 

 "All right, Stella, I got it. Jeez. Thanks." 

 He hung up. The statements from the brothers were obviously a cover-up.
Both boys were members of Parks' street gang. Stella knew that but Ray
knew she couldn't ignore them. It was a safe bet that Parks' lawyer
wouldn't. 

 He opened up the file and started reading through the different reports
looking for inconsistencies. He wrote some notes on a pad, including a
reminder to call Delfina the next day. He still wanted to convince her to
leave town for awhile. At quarter to five, he put the whole thing away and
checked out. 

 Part 11 

 Ray pulled up in front of the hotel and found Annie Claire standing at
her vehicle with a partially filled trunk. She waved at him. Ray
recognized the boxes since he just moved them the day before. 

 "Hi Annie, what's going on?" 

 "Ben's going to move in with me." She was pretty when she smiled and Ray
could see why Fraser liked her. 

 "You mean, like a few days 'till he gets a place?" 

 "Ah, Ray," Fraser said as walking up with the last of his belongings. He
held the box awkwardly around his broken wrist. 

 "Hi Fraser. How're you doing?" Fraser's eyes flashed to pain and if Ray
could have bit off his tongue he would have. He rushed on with another
question. "So you're moving out?" 

 Fraser brightened slightly. 

 "Annie has graciously asked me to stay with her." 

 "That's kind of fast, isn't it?" 

 "I suppose it must seem that way." Fraser adopted a cold detachment in
his voice and Ray thought swallowing his tongue might be better. 

 "You need any help?" 

 "Thank you kindly, Ray, I think we have it." 

 "Yeah, okay, well, come by the station tomorrow if you want. We're still
working on that gang killing." 

 "Yes, Ray, I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you for your assistance today." 

 "Once we get settled, you'll have to come over," Annie said taking the
box from Fraser and putting it in her trunk. 

 Ray couldn't miss the freeze-out in her voice or the challenge in her
eyes. Regardless of her words she was reveling in her victory. At least
that's how Ray saw it. 

 He was suddenly angry. Fraser was moving in with her right now. They
hadn't known each other a week. Three dates and a fuck did not equal
shared living space. 

 "Uh, Annie, I gotta steal the Mountie again. Just for a minute." She
cocked her head at him, keeping her expression neutral. 

 "I'll just wait here in the car," she answered. 

 "Ray, this is really quite...." 

 "Please, Fraser, just walk with me for a minute, okay?" 

 Fraser nodded. He squeezed Annie's hand before following Ray back towards
the hotel entrance. They stopped at the door. It took a few moments for
Ray to stop looking at the pavement before he met Fraser's eyes. 

 "Look, Frase, you think this is a good idea?" 

 "Moving in with Annie, you mean?" 

 "Yeah, that." 

 "I wouldn't be if I didn't think so." This was the Mountie that only came
out to play with Ray. The sarcastic, condescending Mountie that didn't
hide behind his manners. 

 "It's only been a few days, Fraser. I know you like her but you don't
know her. You don't wanna stay here, then fine, stay with me for awhile.
Move in with Vecchio's family. Whatever. But, you gotta give yourself some
time to get to know her." 

 "I do know her, Ray. She has shown great kindness to me since we met. We
seem very suited to each other." 

 "I'm sure you do. But, you haven't seen her mad, have you? You haven't
seen her cry. She never hung up a phone on you in the middle of a fight or
refused to have sex with you just cuz you're not what she wants right
now." 

 "Ray, I realize that your marriage...." 

 "No, I'm not talking about me. Okay, maybe some, but Stella and me went
through all that before we got married, not just at the end." Ray heard
the frustration in his own voice. He hesitated for a moment allowing his
thoughts to settle. "Look, moving in is a commitment. She'll take it like
that and she should. It's not married but it is, ya know. Do you
understand that?" 

 "Yes, Ray. I believe I can be committed to one woman." Sarcasm again. 

 "No, no, I know that, that's not what I mean. I know you don't sleep
around. But, that's not the only thing to a commitment." Frustration and
anger rose between the two men. 

 "Of course not. I am an adult, you know. I can discern the aspects of a
committed relationship." 

 "I'm not questioning your experience, Fraser. But, it's been like three
dates. Three, Fraser, in less than a week. That does not lay the
groundwork for moving in." 

 "I appreciate your concern, however...." 

 "You can live anywhere now. Pets don't matter, just find another place." 

 The words rushed out before Ray even realized he had them to say. Fraser
rubbed his thumb across his eyebrow. His eyes fading to a dark gray. 

 "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." 

 "Thank you for your advice, Ray." Fraser retreated to his manners before
Ray could stop him. He watched the distance between them grow to a chasm. 

 "I'm sorry," he tried again. 

 "It's all right, Ray. I know what you intended. I'll see you tomorrow." 

 Kowalski watched Fraser walk back to Annie. She hugged him, rubbing the
middle of his back with both hands. She nestled her face against his
shoulder, giving Ray a knowing look. Fraser kissed the top of her head
before they separated and climbed into her car. 

 Part 11 

 I wake the morning after moving in with Annie and find that my face is
wet. I don't normally cry, at least not in the traditional sense. I was
taught as a child that crying is a sign of immaturity so I have become
most skilled at keeping the tears to myself. 

 I feel such emptiness. It's as if a part of my soul has been sliced away.
Annie wanted me to eat last night and as much as I want to please her I
couldn't. I miss Diefenbaker. 

 Alternatively, Annie lies by my side. She is naked and soft with her head
against my shoulder. Her hair tickles my arm slightly. She held me last
night in passion and then in comfort. I want to soar inside the feelings
that she's brought out, but I can't. She overwhelms me but I'm also
overwhelmed by the loss of my companion. The happiness I find with her is
tempered by a horrible sadness. 

 Unable to make any coherent decisions, I just lie by her side reveling in
the caress of her skin against mine. She wakes slowly. Her lids flutter
and then I am faced with bottomless eyes that are the color of moss. She
must see the despair on my face because she doesn't smile. She reaches up
to touch my cheek with her fingertips. Then she pulls her body up so that
she's lying on top of me and I'm enveloped by all of her warm, soft
places. She engages me in a long, searching kiss. Her tongue mingles with
mine, then retreats to tease my lips. I know I'm making needy sounds in my
throat and when she releases me I feel the loss. 

 "Are you all right, Ben?" 

 "I...I don't..." My voice breaks and I'm trembling with trying to keep my
emotions in check. 

 "It's all right." She pulls me close to her. "Let it out, Ben. It's all
right." 

 I'm tired and despite my conditioning, I'm soon dissolved in shuddering
sobs. Annie holds me tight, her hands rub my back, her lips caress my
forehead. I cry until the exhaustion brings another sort of comfort and I
sleep. 

 My second wakening of the day finds me alone in Annie's, or rather, our
bed. My face is hot and my throat feels raw from crying, but I do feel
better. I get up slowly and am surprised to see that the day is half over.
I remember that I promised to visit Ray but at the moment I can't think
past the bathroom and bath. 

 It's while I'm standing in the shower allowing a steady stream of hot
water to pummel my skin that I wonder what has become of Diefenbaker's
remains. Ray said he was found at the office of a veterinarian but I don't
know if he has been dealt with beyond that. Further, I want to see him one
last time. 

 Dressing in jeans and a white shirt, I go in the livingroom to find
Annie. She is sitting at her desk using a mouse to highlight sections of
screen. She's playing with color over some blocked graphics. She doesn't
hear me so I take the opportunity to sneak up and nuzzle her neck. She
jumps, tossing the mouse on the floor and nearly tipping her chair over to
escape me. I jump back, surprised by her reaction. 

 "Dammit, Ben, what is wrong with you?" 

 "I'm sorry." I certainly didn't intend to frighten her. She takes a
breath and paces away from me towards the kitchen. 

 Annie's house is large and open. The only solid walls lead to the three
bedrooms. The kitchen, dining room, living room and her office space are
connected. 

 She folds her hands across her chest as she turns back to me. 

 "I'm sorry, Ben. You scared me." Her voice is hard. 

 "Yes, I know, I apologize." 

 "I just...you shouldn't sneak up on me while I'm working. I concentrate
very hard and it's difficult to get that back." 

 I don't have an answer now since I've apologized twice. I am starting to
feel like a wayward child. 

 "Well it doesn't matter now." 

 She walks over to me and kisses me lightly on the mouth. She brushes her
hand through my damp hair then rests at the back of my neck. She smiles
while her fingers stroke me gently. 

 "Are you feeling better?" she asks softly. 

 "Yes, thank you." My hands caress her hips as she leans into me. 

 "Good. I hate to see you sad." She steps back. "I have a full day of work
here but I could stop in an hour, well, maybe an hour and a half now," she
teases, "and we could get lunch. Unless you're starving. There's food in
the refrigerator if you are." 

 "Actually, I need to go to the station. I'm going to ask Ray to take me
to the office of the veterinarian. Arrangements need to be made and...." 

 "I could take you, Ben. Just call Ray and get the address." 

 "Thank you, but I think I left things at odds with Ray yesterday. I'd
like to see him and make it right. I'll be home in a few hours." 

 "Home. I like the sound of that." 

 "As do I." 

 She kisses me lightly. "All right, if you have to go, I understand. Just
come back soon, all right? And make sure you eat something." 

 I kiss her fully then. It's nice to have someone worrying about me. 

 When I go outside, I find someone else is waiting. My father tends to
appear at the most unusual times. Frankly, it's a bit refreshing to have
him waiting outside where there's no one to question why I'm apparently
talking to myself. 

 "Hello, Dad." 

 "Hello, son. I see you've found someone to share a cot with." 

 "That was nicely put," I answer with just an edge of sarcasm. 

 "Moving rather quickly, aren't you, son?" 

 "I would think you'd be happy. Isn't this one step closer to those
grandchildren that you want?" 

 "She has a bit of a temper, doesn't she? Not that that's a bad thing,
mind you. Your mother was quite a spitfire as well." 

 "She has her own mind, dad, her own routine. I'm quite sure we'll be able
to work out our differing habits." 

 "Oh, of course you will, son. That's most of the battle right there." 

 He continues to walk beside me and it seems he's lost in a thoughtful
state. My father is rarely quiet, not when he was alive and even less so
since his death. Regardless of my desire for it, he is quick with his
opinions. 

 "Was there something else you needed?" I ask. 

 "Oh, no. Just enjoying the pleasant morning." 

 "All right." 

 "Well, I'll leave you to it. Settle things with the yank, son, partners
need to work together, you know." 

 "Yes dad, I intend to." I don't point out that he and his partner, Buck
Frobisher, argued nearly constantly. "Uh, may I ask you a question?" 

 I didn't even realize I had it to ask until the words left me. 

 "I haven't seen him, son. I don't know if I will." 

 He's read my mind, something he does with frequency. He hasn't seen
Diefenbaker. I realize that somewhere in my mind I had hoped that they'd
be together and perhaps I would get to see him again. 

 "Well, perhaps you might. You didn't return for months after your...."
Self-consciously I don't finish the sentence. 

 "The word is death, son. True enough," he answers then disappears without
another word. 

 Part 12 

 When Fraser showed up at the station, Ray was standing beside his desk
talking to Detective Huey. Both men noticed him at the same time. Fraser
walked over holding his Stetson. 

 "Hey, Fraser, sorry about the wolf," Huey said as he passed. 

 "Thank you kindly." 

 Kowalski and Fraser looked at each other for a moment. Ray felt awkward
about the day before and from the look on Fraser's face he wasn't the only
one. Fraser broke the silence. 

 "I'm sorry that I was short with you yesterday, Ray." 

 "It's okay. I don't know when to shut up sometimes. Your life, your
business, I'll try to remember." Another awkward silence followed.
Finally, Ray spoke again as he ran a hand over his gravity-defying hair. 

 "So, uh, you here to work or what?" 

 "I'd be happy to work with you, Ray. But I was hoping that first you
might take me to the veterinarian's office. I'd like to make the proper
arrangements." 

 The drive to the doctor was filled with their usual banter and
conversation. Ray relaxed in the normalcy thinking they weathered their
first real fight since he took over for Vecchio. They always seemed to be
arguing but their disagreements were usually minor and impersonal not like
the potential disaster of the day before. 

 The day loomed hot and humid around them. Ray wondered why he bothered to
shower at all since it seemed like he was sweaty as soon as he dried off.
For a frozen tundra guy like Fraser, Ray knew the heat was especially
difficult. 

 "You all settled in at Annie's?" he asked hoping he sounded
conversational instead of worried. 

 "Yes." Fraser stiffened just enough to remind Ray to be cautious. 

 "Is it better than the hotel?" 

 "It's a three bedroom house. She said it's approximately three years
old." 

 "Oh, I know the type. Real nice if you like that kind of thing. I always
liked those big, hundred-year-old houses myself. They got real history
behind them." 

 Fraser leaned back and Ray felt the tension from him. He sighed to
himself. He had hoped his partner wouldn't still be defensive. Ray took
into account that Fraser was also grieving which no doubt added to his
prickly mood. 

 "I didn't mean nothing by that. I was just making conversation." 

 Fraser gave him a studied look with his eyes showing a slight crease with
the effort. Then apparently satisfied, he said, "I know, Ray." 

 The conversation ended there. They pulled into the parking lot. Ray
knocked on the emergency door as he had done before. This time a bulky man
dressed in clothes that were at least one size too small answered the
door. Kowalski pulled his badge. 

 "Detective Vecchio. You got a dog on hold for me. He was left here a
couple nights ago. Hit by a car." The man continued to stare at him with
round blue eyes shrouded by bright white hair. "John Doe," Ray prodded. 

 "Oh, of course. What about him?" 

 "This is Constable Fraser. It was his dog." 

 "That was not a dog, at least entirely." 

 "Yes, Sir. He was half wolf." Fraser spoke for the first time. "I'd like
to take care of him now." 

 "There's nothing to take care of, Constable. He was a stray of unknown
origin. I had to assume he might be diseased. The body's been destroyed." 

 "What do you mean?" Ray exploded. "I told the kid to hold on to him. He
belonged to my buddy. I told him we'd call and tell you what to do with
him." 

 "I'm Dr. John Dunbar. I'm sorry but I couldn't keep him indefinitely." 

 "It was two days, not even that long. Dammit, how could you do that?" 

 While Ray raged at the doctor, he didn't notice Fraser walk away. Several
minutes later, knowing he couldn't change what happened, he gave up.
Shaking his head and cursing, he looked around for his partner. Ray went
out the door and found Fraser standing behind the locked car arms folded
across his chest. 

 Ray watched him for a moment. He walked over slowly not knowing what to
say. He berated himself for not taking the dead wolf with him two nights
ago. He knew that it was ludicrous to think about carting a dead animal
around but at least Fraser would have had the chance to say good-bye. 

 "We should go," Fraser said in a monotone when Ray approached. 

 "I'm sorry. I asked them to wait." 

 "It's not your fault." The words rang with finality. Ray unlocked the
passenger side door before going around to his side. 

 He drove back towards the police station because he didn't know what else
to do. When they were on the same block, Ray spoke for the first time
since they left the doctor's office. 

 "Where do you want me to take you?" 

 "The station is fine." 

 "Don't you wanna go home?" 

 "I said I would help you today." 

 Ray put his hand on Fraser's shoulder. "You do not gotta do that, Fraser.
You're in no shape to work." 

 "We're partners, Ray. I said I'd help you and I will." 

 "Yeah I know we're partners but you're...you're grieving right now." 

 "I appreciate your concern Ray, but I like to keep my promises when I
can. It's no hardship to work today." 

 Ray took his hand away placing it tightly on the steering wheel. 

 "What about Annie? You don't wanna go spend the day with her?" 

 "I'd like to, yes, but she's working at home right now. I should respect
her schedule and not be in the way. It'll be difficult enough for us to
mesh our differing habits without adding to it." 

 Ray wondered if she was making him feel like he was in the way. He was
proud of himself for keeping that question in his head. He just shrugged
instead and pulled into the station parking lot. 

 Delfina Bradshaw was waiting for them at Ray's desk. 

 "Detective Vecchio," she said, standing up. She was a large girl with
mocha colored skin and dressed in a skin tight t-shirt with jeans. Her
hair hung in tightly beaded braids around her face. 

 "Hi Delfina, something wrong?" 

 "Nope. Who's your friend?" 

 Ray couldn't help but smile at the teenager's reaction to Fraser. Most of
the women who met him had the same one. 

 "This is my partner, Constable Fraser." 

 "A pleasure, miss." 

 "Mine too," she responded taking a long look. 

 "You need something," Ray asked, gaining her attention while he moved
some files off his desk into his workbasket. 

 "I think I remember something that might help." 

 "What's that?" 

 "Eric always wore this little gold ring, had a snake's head on it. He
found it or something and he always said it was real gold. Thought it was
worth some money. He liked wearing it all the time and showing it off." 

 "And?" 

 "Well, I was thinking if you didn't find the ring on him, maybe you'd
find it on Don or the other guy I saw. That'd put them in the same place,
right? Like what you were saying?" 

 "Yeah, that could do it. I'll check the reports to see if we have the
ring. Off hand, I don't remember any mention of it. Thanks for coming
down, Delfina." 

 She shrugged. "You know, just thought of it." 

 "You made plans to visit your aunt in Ohio yet?" 

 "Nah. School's starting up soon and Mr. Smith needs me at the hardware
store." 

 "I'd feel better if you'd leave town until we get this cleared up." 

 "Oh, I know, but I'll be fine. If I'm gonna graduate this year, I gotta
be here, ya know? And no one's even looking at me funny. My family, we
been in the neighborhood a long time. I don't think Don'll bother me." 

 "Eric was probably thinking the same thing," Ray pointed out. 

 "No. Eric wasn't thinking at all. Don pounded on him from the time we
were in grade school and Eric just took it. If he wanted to grow balls, he
shouldn't have done it in an alley in the middle of the night." 

 "Yeah, well, I guess he had taken all he wanted to. And Parks killed him
for it. You could send him to jail, Delfina, that might be more than Parks
is willing to take." 

 "Well, really I can't, can I? That's what you said. I'm not good enough
to send him away." 

 "That's not what I said." 

 "But, it's what it comes down to. Don't worry about me, Vecchio, I got
more lives than a cat." 

 "You still got my card? It's got my home number on the back. You think
you're in trouble, you call me anytime, all right?" 

 "Thanks, Vecchio. Nice to meet you, uh, Officer..." she said. 

 "Constable," Fraser corrected softly. "Have a good day, miss." 

 She gave one more lingering look to Fraser and left the squad room. 

 Fraser and Ray spent the first part of the afternoon reviewing the file
on Eric Crothers. Neither one could find any mention of a ring. They paid
a visit to the morgue to see if Mort could tell them anything else but
there was nothing more to say than the information in his report. 

 Once they returned to Ray's desk, the detective glanced at his watch. He
yawned and stretched his arms over his head. 

 "Well, Fraser, it's almost six. I'm ready to call it a day, how about
you?" 

 "A fine idea, Ray. Do you mind dropping me at Annie's? It's actually a
bit closer to your apartment than the Consulate." 

 "Happy to. You need to stop for anything on the way? You in charge of
dinner or anything?" 

 "Not that I know of," Fraser answered, frowning a little as he considered
the question. 

 "Well then here's your hat," Ray lifted the Stetson off the desk, handing
it to him, "and we're outta here." 

 As promised, Annie's house was only a couple of miles away from Ray's
apartment. He whistled when they pulled up in front. 

 "Nice place." 

 "Would you like to come in, Ray?" 

 "Nah, not tonight. Talk to her first and invite me to dinner sometime." 

 "I'm sure she wouldn't mind." 

 "Fraser, I been married. Women do not like it when you bring your partner
home without warning. Trust me on this. Tell her I said hi and I'm sorry
for keeping you so late." 

 "Very well. Thank you kindly for the ride. I'll be at the station first
thing in the morning." 

 Fraser stepped out, turned around and started to pull his seat forward.
He froze, blinking. 

 "Well, that was silly, wasn't it," he said, putting the seat back. They
both knew he was in the process of letting Dief out when there was no wolf
back there. 

 "It's all right, Fraser. It'll take some time." Ray was worried at the
sudden loss of color in his partner's face. 

 "Yes, of course it will. Thank you again," Fraser answered with a slight
tremble in his voice. 

 As Fraser walked towards the house, Ray put his head on the steering
wheel and swore. 

 Part 13 

 I walk across the brick steps to the front door, berating myself for my
actions at the car. I am not forgetful by nature but the fact of
Diefenbaker's...death is...difficult. I have caught myself at least a
dozen times considering him today as I worked. Should I call Turnbull and
ask him to walk him? Is there enough kibble to last through the weekend?
Would he be able to sniff out anything in the alley where Eric Crothers
was killed? That last thought I nearly spoke aloud at the station. 

 The door is locked and I hesitate, wondering if I should use my key or
ring the bell. I decide to use my key. We're living together so this is my
home as well. 

 I smell chicken and rice and mushrooms. My stomach growls reminding me
that I never ate today. From the kitchen I hear Annie. She's singing to a
song playing from a small radio she keeps on top of the refrigerator. She
smiles happily when I come around the corner. A moment later she's in my
arms. I'm overwhelmed once more by the taste of her. The added warmth of
dinner cooking and a pleasant welcome are nearly my undoing. 

 "Are you hungry?" she asks. 

 "Very much so," I answer while I run my lips over her neck. My stomach
chooses this inopportune moment to growl again. I feel it and I think she
does too. 

 "I guess you are." She giggles with a sound that reminds me of music. 

 She tells me to clean up and dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. I
go to the bathroom to shower and change. The heat and humidity have forced
me into two showers a day. I simply can't tolerate the perspiration. 

 When I come out in fresh clothes, I find that she's set the table with
china. A somewhat different experience than what I'm used to with my
camping utensils and huddled over my desk at the Consulate. She has wine
by her plate and sparkling water with a lime sitting beside mine. A baking
dish is sitting on top of a linen towel. The dish is filled with four
chicken breasts surrounded by rice in a creamy mushroom sauce. The aroma
fills me with a sense of home and warmth. 

 She comes to me and presses an almost chaste kiss against my lips before
she leads me to the table. I pull her chair out for her before going to my
own. The food is wonderful and she admits that she doesn't like to cook
but she has a few good recipes. Just as we're finishing up, she reaches
over to put her hand over mine. 

 "You were kind of late tonight, Ben," she says, deliberately catching my
eyes with hers. 

 "Ah, yes, occasionally Ray and I will get caught up in an investigation
and time gets away from us." 

 "Well, I'd appreciate a phone call. It's only polite." I'm surprised and
it must show. "I was here waiting for you, you know." 

 "I'm sorry I didn't think of calling. I will try to do so in the future."


 "Trying may not be enough, Ben. Please call me when you'll be working
past five." 

 The feeling of being a scolded child returns. I quickly tamp that down
and promise to call her when I'm working late. It's not an unreasonable
request. I am just unused to reporting my whereabouts outside of work. 

 When we finish eating, we wash the dishes together. Shortly after, we go
to bed. Once again, she gives herself completely and afterward she sleeps
while I lay awake remembering my old apartment and Ray Vecchio and
Diefenbaker. How many times did the three of us split a pizza or re-hash a
case we solved? When sleep finally comes, I surrender to it, seeking
relief from the pain of missing them. My last thought is that I've been
left alone again. 

 I wake slowly the next morning. It's a great effort to let go of the
peace. Annie is still beside me and her warmth is the only good thing I
feel. Looking at her childlike face relaxed and untouched in sleep fills
me with wonder. I am in love with her. It's not the lightning bolt love
that I found with Victoria but it's real and strong. I kiss her lightly on
the top of her head. She snuggles closer into my shoulder, brushing her
hand across my chest. 

 Annie's hair is auburn but in the morning light the red shows like tiny
streaks of ember. I curl my fingers into the softness of it and she
wakens. She's sleepy as she kisses my collarbone, running a path to my
neck and back down again. It doesn't take long before I know that leaving
bed is some time away yet. She likes to use her lips and her tongue and
her teeth. She's energetic and uninhibited. I try to match her but she
takes the lead, pressing against me, holding my good hand in hers. I could
easily escape if I want to but I don't. Why would I seek escape from this?


 "I want to wake like this forever," she whispers. 

 "Yes." 

 "Stay home with me. Stay home today and tomorrow and always. We can stay
in bed until noon. We can make love 'til three in the morning." 

 It's tempting. A moment later she uses her mouth and her hands and her
legs to show me how it would be if I agreed. 

 We sleep awhile longer. I wake first again and this time I'm responsible.
I leave the bed without rousing her to go to the kitchen and prepare
coffee. I'm not comfortable walking around naked. There's something too
decadent about it so I pull my jeans on before I leave the bedroom. 

 Once the coffee maker has been set, I go to the bathroom to shower. Ray
will be expecting me by now. I said I'd be there first thing and it's
nearly nine o'clock. As it turns out, he'll have to wait a bit longer as
Annie slips into the warm water behind me. 

 Part 14 

 Lieutenant Harding Welsh walked out of the door of the station just as
Fraser walked in. The gruff lieutenant stopped to offer his condolences on
the wolf. He apologized for not having more time to speak with him, then
rushed out for a "damn dental appointment!" 

 Fraser found Ray in the lunchroom, eating a candy bar and drinking cola. 

 "Morning, Fraser," Ray said around a mouthful of chocolate. 

 "Good morning, Ray. I'm sorry I'm late." 

 "Don't have a set schedule, do ya? Listen, I gotta help Huey and Dewey
bust a couple guys. We got a warrant but they've already interviewed them
and they wanna make a surprise visit before evidence starts making it into
the toilet. You wanna come?" 

 "Who are the suspects?" 

 "Drug dealers. We think they got a meth lab working outta their house." 

 The bust itself took only a short time with no shots fired, no officers
injured and two suspects under arrest. The subsequent paperwork and
follow-up kept the station busy for the rest of the afternoon. 

 While Ray interviewed one of the suspects, Huey and Dewey interviewed the
other. Fraser completed the paperwork regarding their arrests. At 4:30, he
phoned Annie to tell her that he would be leaving the station in an hour. 

 When Welsh returned, he had gauze bulging from the left side of his
mouth. He congratulated them on the bust, winced and settled back in his
office. 

 At 5:30, Fraser called Ray from the interrogation of his suspect. He told
him that he had completed the reports up to that point knowing that the
interviews would still need backup and signatures. 

 "I'll be going home now unless you require something else." 

 "I thought you'd wanna stay for the rest of the questioning." 

 "Normally I would but I promised Annie that I'd come home." 

 "Oh. Okay, well I can't really leave right now." 

 "No of course not. I merely wanted to tell you my plans. I have legs, I
can walk." Fraser tried not to grimace at his last words. There it was
again, a phrase to bring back Ray Vecchio's absence. 

 "Will I see you tomorrow?" 

 "I'll be here. Very good work today, Ray." 

 "Yeah, thanks, you too." 

 Part 14 

 The next week moved along in a similar fashion. Without duties to the
Consulate, Ben worked with Ray during the day and spent his evenings with
Annie. 

 When the weekend came, he was happy to stay at home and spend a lot of
time in bed or taking long walks. Despite the heat, Ben needed to be
outside and Annie seemed content just to be with him. 

 "I like picturing you as a boy," Annie said as they circuited a nearby
park. 

 "Really," he answered seriously but there was teasing in his eyes. 

 "I'll bet you were solid, like a little linebacker." 

 "Actually I was quite thin. Long narrow limbs, quite clumsy." 

 "Haven't changed much," she kidded him. After a few moments of amused
silence, Annie's tone grew somber. She stopped them to sit on a bench
beneath an oak tree. 

 "Your grandparents were strict, weren't they?" 

 "Yes," Ben answered, wondering at her endless curiosity regarding his
childhood. 

 "They hit you?" 

 "Well, they didn't beat me or anything similar. They did believe in
corporal punishment as needed." 

 "Your dad too?" 

 "Oh, yes, though my more serious discipline was usually dealt with by my
grandfather." 

 "My dad hit me. I don't think my mom ever did but I can't remember for
sure. Yours?" 

 "My mother? No, I don't believe so." Annie tilted her head to lie against
his shoulder. Ben thought through the question in his mind. He wanted to
phrase it carefully. 

 "When you say your father hit you, do you mean he...." 

 "No! I mean, sort of, I mean I didn't go to school hiding bruises or
anything. He was probably rougher than he needed to be but he wasn't cruel
or abusive." Ben listened with his heart beating faster. Her denial
sounded false. He felt sick thinking someone had ever hurt her. 

 She jumped up, taking his hand and trying to pull him playfully to his
feet. Ben held his place. When she met his eyes, he said, "You can trust
me with anything, Annie." Her eyes dampened for a moment before she pecked
him quick on the lips. 

 The conversation about their childhood was dismissed in favor of
discussing the endless heat. They soon decided to go back home to air
conditioning. 

 For the rest of the weekend, they spent long hours laughing together,
sharing their pasts and trading stories and making love. Ben couldn't
remember feeling so happy. 

 Annie talked a lot about how much she liked working at home. She tried to
convince Ben to give up the RCMP and learn her business instead. He
fantasized with her just for fun. 

 Letting go of Diefenbaker was something he did privately in the night. He
didn't want to burden Annie with his grief. She had supported him
unselfishly for the first couple of days and that was all he wanted to ask
of her. When he knew she was sleeping, he took comfort in her warmth but
he grieved alone. 

 On their second Sunday since moving in together, they decided to have a
barbecue. Annie wanted to make hamburgers and macaroni salad. They shopped
for the things they needed then went home to prepare the salad in the
early afternoon. 

 Ben rarely cooked. His grandmother cooked often but not well and she
wasn't willing to teach him. He had never made macaroni salad. Annie asked
him to chop the onions. He thought they should be small but she wanted
them pulverized. Next she gave him the green olives to chop. He cut them
in half but she wanted them in quarters. Ben had seen sliced hard-boiled
egg on the top of a salad and assumed that was the proper way to prepare
them but Annie wanted the eggs chopped and mixed throughout. 

 "God, Ben, were you raised in a cave?" 

 "I was born in a barn," he answered, playfully. 

 "It shows. I've never seen anyone so inept in the kitchen." 

 Ben had no response for that. He turned back to chopping up the egg while
she mixed in the mayonnaise. 

 Soon the salad was safely tucked away in the refrigerator. They settled
on the couch where Ben rubbed her feet while Annie flipped through
channels on the television. 

 "Hey," she said, "We have enough salad to feed an army. Why don't you
call Ray and see if he wants to come over for dinner." Ben liked the idea.
He wanted Annie and Ray to be friends. He dialed and was glad to find him
at home. 

 "Yeah, sounds good," Ray said. "You mind if I bring someone?" 

 "Not at all. Anyone you like." 

 "Should I bring something with me?" 

 "Well, we don't have any beer here if you want that with dinner. Annie
drinks wine." 

 "Good. I'll bring drinks. See you around six." 

 Ben and Annie lounged for the rest of the afternoon. Around five, Annie
went to shower and change clothes. She came out after the doorbell rang.
Ray stood outside with a pretty young woman that Ben recognized from the
records keeping department at the station. 

 "You know Karen Morris, don't ya Fraser?" 

 "Of course, Karen, I'm glad you could come. Please come in and make
yourselves comfortable." 

 Ray indicated the bag in his hand and Ben led him into the kitchen to
store the six pack of beer and a bottle of red wine in the refrigerator.
He smiled when Ray also produced a six pack of bottled water. 

 Ray noticed Annie perusing Karen from head to toe while his date pushed
her dark curls back from her face. Annie shook her hand then she hugged
Ray when he came out of the kitchen. The detective almost stepped away.
They had not seen each other since the day he found Fraser loading his
things into her car and Ray doubted that she missed him. 

 After the brief hug, the four settled into the livingroom to talk while
they waited for the coals on the grill to heat up. 

 "So, you're a graphic designer?" Ray asked Annie to start the
conversation. 

 "That's right. I design album covers and book covers and I do special
edition publications." 

 "That sounds like fun," Karen commented. 

 "It is. It's hard work, of course. Ben is a terrible distraction when
he's around the house." Fraser raised his eyebrows at that. "But, it's a
good distraction." She squeezed his hand. 

 "I'll bet," Karen teased, then smiled at Ray. "I spend most of my time in
a file room. Not much fun. But I do get to see the details on a lot of
cases. When it's slow, I like to read them over. Sometimes it's like
reading a crime novel." 

 "Oh I don't know if I'd like that very much. I guess I like my head in
the sand about some things. And Ben... he doesn't like talking about work.
I do hear a lot about the Inuit though." 

 "Yeah, I hear you there." Ray winked at Fraser. 

 "They're the perfect bed time story, I'll tell you." Annie and Karen
laughed but Ray noticed that Fraser shifted uncomfortably and stood up. 

 "I'll check the coals," he said. 

 "I'll help you," Ray said. He followed his partner through the kitchen
and out the back door. 

 Once they were outside, Fraser poked at the coals in the old metal
barbecue with a long, wooden-handled fork. Ray watched him, feeling the
heat from the grill against his face and arms. 

 "Everything okay, Fraser?" Fraser gave him his patented neutral
expression. 

 "Certainly. Everything is fine. Karen seems very nice." 

 "Yeah she is. She's good company. I go with her sometimes...to stuff...
and she goes with me. No complications but we like each other okay." 

 "It sounds like a good exchange." He continued poking at the coals, "Well
I think this is sufficiently hot. Would you help me get the meat and the
condiments? I'm still functioning with one hand." He held up his wrist
brace. 

 "Just lead the way, buddy." 

 When they reached the kitchen, the two women were laughing. "I swear
sometimes he never got off an ice floe," Annie was saying. "His
grandparents were so strict about manners and education but they didn't
teach him a thing about living." 

 She looked up to find Fraser staring at her with a plate of raw hamburger
patties. Annie grinned widely at him. "I was just telling Karen about that
fiasco of making the salad today." 

 "Ah." 

 "Oh, don't worry, honey, I love you even when you're all thumbs." 

 Ray actually took a step forward. He caught the words just before they
left his mouth. Fraser...all thumbs? No class? Fraser had better manners
and more intelligence than anyone Ray had ever known. Who was this woman
to insult him like that? And to a stranger, no less. 

 Ray knew this type of sniping well. His ex-wife, Stella had been an
expert. Talking sweet and skewering him in the same breath. Smiling to his
face while criticizing everything about him. 

 Fraser just nodded at her before he took the meat outside to grill. Ray
stopped long enough to consider defending him but he knew it would be a
mistake to draw any more attention to her words. 

 Once outside again, Fraser used a spatula to decorate the grill with
hamburgers. Ray stood beside him, hands plunged into his pockets. 

 "How're things going at the Consulate? The Ice Queen still feeling guilty
about kicking you out?" 

 "She appears to be over that." 

 Ray laughed. 

 "I kind of miss you around the station." 

 "I've had the afternoon shift all week. Working ten to six hasn't left me
any time to come by. Are you working on anything interesting?" 

 "Still trying to bust Parks on the Crothers murder." 

 "You're not investigating this on your own, are you?" 

 "Nah. Welsh won't even let me go down there alone. Been taking Huey and
Dewey mostly." 

 "I should be more available over the next couple of weeks. Inspector
Thatcher is going to Ottawa for a week and then on vacation. I'll be in
charge but there's very little to keep us busy at the moment." 

 "Good, I wouldn't mind some different company." 

 Fraser lifted the metal lid and flipped the hamburgers. Ray breathed
deeply commenting on the aroma. The back door opened and Annie and Karen
came out carrying lettuce, tomato and onion, a cutting board and knives.
Karen had beer bottles balanced on the cutting board. After they set
things down, she handed one to Ray. He thanked her with a kiss on the
cheek. 

 "We thought we'd keep you company," Annie said. 

 The women pulled white plastic chairs away from the round glass table and
sat down. A round red and white striped umbrella covered them. Annie took
a tomato while Karen tackled the lettuce. 

 "So what's been going on out here?" Karen asked. 

 "Not much. Guy stuff," Ray said with a grin. 

 "Scratching and swearing," she teased him. 

 "Oh, you know, lots of scratching but Fraser here, he don't swear."
Fraser was scooping the hamburgers on to the plate. Ray was about to help
him since his broken wrist made the job awkward when Annie joined the
conversation. 

 "Unless you count taking the Lord's Name in vain," She said. She lowered
her voice to a husky whisper, "then it's 'Oh, God', 'Oh, Jesus', right,
Ben?" Fraser dropped the plate. 

 "Oh, for God's Sakes, Ben," Annie said, jumping up. Ray was already
crouched beside his partner cleaning up the mess. 

 "I'm sorry," Fraser said, staring at the ground. Ray could see the blush
from his neck up. 

 "Don't worry about it, Fraser. Accidents happen." 

 "Like I said, all thumbs," Annie commented. 

 "It was an accident," Ray said, firmly. "We'll take care of this and I'll
order a pizza. Nothing to worry about." 

 "Sure, pizza is always good," Karen agreed. 

 "Sure, pizza and macaroni salad, everyone's favorite," Annie responded
sarcastically. 

 Fraser took the plate and escaped into the kitchen. A couple of minutes
later while Ray and the women gathered the vegetables and condiments
together he heard the front door open and he had a brief worry that Fraser
was abandoning them. Not that he would blame him for wanting to get away.
Instead, though, he heard the squeak of a spring and he figured his
partner was just tossing the hamburgers into the trash. 

 The next hour went by in tense politeness. Ray ordered two large pizzas
for delivery. The two couples sat outside trying to make small talk. 

 "You know how men are," Annie said. "Ben has such a talent for art but he
can't imagine not going into an office every day." 

 "I can," Karen said. "It would be nice to work from home." 

 "Being a cop isn't like other jobs. You don't just sit behind a desk all
the time. It's something new every day," Ray said. "Once you start doing
it, it's hard to stop." 

 "Oh, here we go, it's your calling, right?" Annie asked. 

 "Not mine, no. But, some cops feel like that. I like the job but I could
do other stuff and be happy." 

 "Ben tells me he can't. Isn't that right?" she asked, looking in his
direction. 

 "I wouldn't want to do anything else. Being a member of the RCMP has been
my dream since I was a child." 

 "Well, we should all get our dreams, shouldn't we? No matter what they
are." She kissed him lightly. 

 Finally dinner arrived. They ate, cleaned up and Ray blamed work for
having to leave early. On the walk back to the car, Karen glanced behind
them. 

 "Why does he like her," she whispered. 

 "I don't know." 

 Part 15 

 I wish Ray and Karen a good night before I shut the door behind them.
Annie is by my side holding my hand. As soon as the latch catches she
releases me and walks into the kitchen. She paces in there for a few
moments before she comes out. 

 "Well that was fun," she practically spits. 

 "It was a mistake. Obviously." 

 "If you needed help, you should have asked for it." It takes me a moment
but then I realize that she means the dropped plate. 

 "I'm sorry about the food, Annie, but I was startled by your comment." 

 "What comment?" 

 "Your referral to my utterances when we make love." I start to clench my
hands when my wrist sends a warning of pain through my arm. 

 "What? God, Ben grow up. It's not like I gave them personal details. You
think your partner isn't yelling his head off when he comes? Jeez." 

 "I..." I stop a moment to re-regroup my thoughts. "I would prefer that
our personal time remain personal. There's nothing that should be shared
with others." 

 "Fine Ben, I'll keep your precious virtue in tact. Is that what you
want?" 

 "I would like your understanding, not your sarcasm." It's an effort not
to raise my voice. 

 "I can't help it." She turns her back and returns to the kitchen. "It's
not like I whipped out an x-rated video of you grunting and moaning.
Jesus, Ben you're so sensitive." 

 "Perhaps. But I didn't criticize you or belittle you. I expect the same
courtesy." 

 "Criticize? Because I teased you a little bit? Get a sense of humor, Ben.
You can probably find a book about it somewhere." 

 "You embarrassed me today, Annie." I can hear the plea in my voice. I
just want her to understand. 

 "Oh, that's it. I stepped on your male ego, did I? I embarrassed you in
front of your friends? Well, I didn't drop our dinner or hide outside. I
entertained, Ben. That's what people do when they have company over." 

 My temper finally breaks and my words are forced from deep inside me. I
can feel the fingernails of my good hand pressed into my palm. 

 "No. You told jokes at my expense. You made it seem as if I'm a bumbling
fool that gets in your way. If that's what you believe then we've come as
far as we're going to. If you just said it for the sake of the joke, then
we can solve that problem simply enough by not doing it again." 

 "Now you get to decide what I'm allowed to say?" 

 "That's not what I meant." 

 "Should I clear all comments with you before we have guests over?" 

 "Annie, I did not..." 

 "Maybe we should have practice sessions. Will that work for you?" 

 "You're being unreasonable." 

 "That's me. Irrational, unreasonable and fickle. Typical woman, right
Ben?" 

 I shake my head. There's nothing to say now. She's not hearing me so I
walk out. Something thuds on the wood behind me and I realize that she's
thrown something at the door. 

 When I reach the street I'm furious enough to shake and I know the only
thing to do is walk. I don't know if Annie and I are done but in my anger
I don't know if I care. I've been alone before. I try to convince myself
that I can be alone again. The spiral started with my mother's death. In
the interim since, I have lost my grandparents, my father and of course,
Victoria. Most recently it was Ray Vecchio's departure to go undercover
and then Diefenbaker. 

 I can't say if I believe in destiny but it's difficult to ignore the
signs. Perhaps I am meant to be alone. Perhaps I should just accept fate
as it is. 

 I don't know how long I walk. At some point I pass Ray Kowalski's
apartment building. I can see a light on in his window but I don't go up.
It's likely that Karen Morris is with him. But even if I knew that he was
alone, I know I can't discuss this with him. It would be disrespectful to
talk about our private problems with a third party. 

 I walk and wish that Diefenbaker were by my side. I walk until I'm too
tired to go any further. It's dark and cloudy on the street. I find myself
standing in front of Annie's house and wondering if she's left my things
by the front door. The thought frightens me. Now that my anger has
settled, I'm filled with the idea of being alone again and I can barely
face it. 

 Standing outside I wonder if I should use my key. This time it's the late
hour that convinces me. She is likely sleeping. As soon as the door creaks
open I hear her footsteps. She stands for a moment in the doorway of the
bedroom wearing a blue robe that she likes. A moment later she's in my
arms and sobbing. 

 "I'm sorry," she whispers over and over until it sounds like a mantra. 

 I hold her. I rub circles on her back and stroke her hair. When she
finally raises her head to look at me I lean down and kiss her. Our mutual
passion is soon flaming and we barely make it back to the bedroom. 

 Part 16 

 It was a Tuesday afternoon when Ray received the phone call that Delfina
Bradshaw's body was pulled from Lake Michigan. According to the officers
that found her, she was severely beaten. Ray hung up the phone and laid
his head on his desk. Then he stood up and kicked his wastebasket. 

 Delfina had called him at home the night before. It was after midnight
and she had said she couldn't sleep. She said she was just checking in to
see if there was any progress in the investigation. 

 "Ya know, Eric was so easy to be mean to. He was kind of small and funny
looking and pretty much everybody thought he was gay. Parks used to call
him a faggot all the time and he was always shoving him around, harassing
him. It's just wrong that he died because he finally decided to stand up
for himself." 

 Ray agreed with her, of course. The boy, straight or gay, shouldn't have
had to put up with Parks' crap. 

 He had tried to tell her that he was doing all he could but they both
knew the reality. Too much time had passed without more information. The
likelihood of arresting Parks for Crothers' murder was slim. 

 He had hung up with her feeling entirely inadequate. Now as he stared at
the overturned wastebasket inadequacy gave way to something much darker.
He failed to nail Parks. He failed to keep Delfina alive. 

 Despite Welsh's orders, Ray neglected to take company on this trip. Huey
and Dewey were not in the building, Fraser was at the Consulate, and Ray
couldn't wait. 

 He drove to the south side, parked in front of a florist shop and headed
out. He started with a pool hall, then went into every likely building
after. He finally found Don Parks standing in front of the high school
with several members of his gang. They were all dressed in blue jeans and
t-shirts. 

 Ray stepped boldly into the group pulling out his badge. "You remember
me, don't ya, Donny?" 

 "Wha' d'ya want, Vecchio?" Parks asked. 

 "Where were you last night, Donny?" 

 "He was with me," one of the boys answered. 

 "No, man, he was at my place," another voice said. 

 "Ya all are crazy. He was hangin' with me," a third voice chimed in. 

 "That's good guys. I figured you were all together. You're just making it
easier to put you all in one place." 

 "Fuck off, Vecchio," Parks said. The others chimed in their agreement. 

 "You made a mistake, Donny. I liked that girl. I'm not walking away from
this." 

 "Nah man, you made the mistake. Yer in my territory now." 

 "You threatening me? You threatening a cop cuz I can pull you in for
that. That's a go to jail kind of thing." 

 "Asshole," Parks said, turning away. Ray grabbed his arm and spun him
back. He felt the violence in the group go up a notch. 

 "You're going down," Ray said. He shoved the boy's arm back towards him
and pushed his way out of the middle. They yelled obscenities at him as he
walked. 

 Part 17 

 Ben finished the last of his weekly report for Inspector Thatcher. She
demanded that he keep a detailed accounting of all consular business when
she was not in town. When the phone on his desk rang, he pressed 'save'
and lifted the receiver on the second ring. 

 "Constable, it's Lieutenant Welsh." 

 "Yes, Lieutenant. What can I do for you?" 

 "I need you down here at Cook County. Vecchio is here." Ben squeezed the
receiver in direct response to the clenching in his chest. 

 "How serious?" 

 "I don't know yet, he's with the doctor." 

 "I'm on my way, Sir." 

 Ben asked Constable Turnbull to lock the building then he flagged down a
taxi. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass. Another horribly hot
day was ending and the air conditioning was insufficient. Just as they
reached the corner to turn, Ben saw a young man walking a dog. It was a
gray and white Husky mix. The dog barked and pulled on the metal chain at
the sight of the taxi and the man yanked him back hard. Ben sat up to have
a better look but they were already around the corner. The dog faded into
the distance and Ben shook himself. 

 "Wishful thinking," he said out loud. 

 The taxi pulled up in front of the emergency entrance. Ben paid him and
climbed out. Inside the doors, he found Welsh talking with an older man in
a white lab coat. The man hesitated when he spotted Ben. 

 "It's all right, doctor. This man is his partner," Welsh assured him. 

 "Right, well as I was saying he was very lucky. His ribs are severely
bruised but not broken. There's some bruising to his right kidney as well
and he has a relatively mild concussion." 

 "Then he'll be all right?" Ben asked. 

 "I don't see anything that won't heal in a week or two. Normally I'd keep
him overnight for observation but he refused. If I send him home, is there
someone who can stay with him for the next day or so?" 

 "I can do that," Ben volunteered. 

 "All right then, he'll be out shortly. There's a nurse helping him dress.
Here's a prescription for pain and the pharmacy next door can fill it.
They're notoriously slow so you may want to get that dropped off right
away." 

 Welsh took the paper. They both thanked the doctor. 

 "What happened, Sir?" 

 "Your partner disobeyed a direct order and got his ass kicked for his
trouble is what happened." 

 "Sir?" 

 "I told him. I said, Vecchio, do not confront Don Parks or any of the
others by yourself. I said, do not go into that neighborhood alone asking
questions. And of course, he ignored me. He's lucky they didn't kill him.
Probably would have if a uniform patrol didn't happen by. Stupid son of a
bitch. I'm going to get this filled." 

 "I can do that, Sir." 

 "No. I need the walk. You wait for Vecchio." 

 Ben didn't have to wait long. A frail looking nurse pushed Ray into the
waiting room. He was sitting in the wheelchair with one hand held
protectively against his ribs and the other holding on to the arm of the
chair. His face was bruised and swollen. When he saw Ben, he gave him a
small painful smile and started to rise. The nurse put her hand on his
shoulder and pushed him back down. 

 "You stay. Until you are out those doors, you are in that chair," the
nurse said. 

 "Jeez, okay," Ray answered. Ben gave the nurse an appraising look, not
hiding the amusement in his eyes. 

 He took over the wheelchair from the nurse, thanking her for her
assistance then pushed Ray over to the waiting area. 

 "How are you feeling?" he asked. 

 "I am suddenly feel very sympathetic to punching bags, Fraser." 

 "I can well imagine. Well, you've been released into my care. As soon as
the lieutenant returns we can leave." 

 "Aren't ya gonna ask what happened?" 

 "I imagine you'll tell me when you're ready." 

 "When we get to my place, okay?" 

 "Whatever you want, Ray." 

 Ben locked the wheelchair in place and took a chair across from him. In
addition to the facial bruises, there were purple marks on his arms
showing the remnants of fingerprints. 

 "The lieutenant is quite put out with you," Ben said seriously. 

 "Yeah, I bet. I disobeyed an order. Course he might see me and figure I
suffered enough." 

 "Perhaps." Clearly neither of them believed that would be the case. 

 Half an hour later, Welsh came back with a full pill bottle. By then, Ray
was shifting uncomfortably and trying to support his ribs. Ben wanted to
get him home so he could lie down and take the pressure off them. Welsh
gave the prescription to Ben after he shook out two pills and gave them to
his detective. 

 "I want your statement tomorrow. You can call it in but call before
noon." 

 "Yes, Sir." 

 "And expect a good ass chewing when you call." 

 "Yes, Sir." 

 Welsh drove the two men to Ray's apartment. By the time they arrived, Ray
was half-asleep from the pain medication. Welsh and Ben supported him up
the stairs, then they helped him strip down to a t-shirt and boxers before
putting him to bed. 

 Welsh left after making certain they had everything they needed. Ben sat
down on the couch. He glanced towards the television and caught sight of
the VCR. The time on the front displayed 7:30. Annie. 

 Ben called her right away and she picked up on the first ring. 

 "Annie, I'm terribly sorry for not phoning sooner." 

 "Are you all right?" 

 "I'm fine, but...." 

 "Well dinner is burned and I have spent the last half hour calling
hospitals." 

 "I'm sorry, I...." 

 "I know you're sorry. You always are, Ben. I asked one small thing from
you. But apparently you can't reach a phone." She hung up. 

 Ben stared at the receiver for several moments. She hung up? He couldn't
believe it. He dropped the receiver back in the cradle thinking it was a
mistake. Then he picked it up and dialed again. 

 "Annie? We were cut off." 

 "That's one way of looking at it." 

 "I'm at Ray's apartment. He was injured today and I've been at hospital
with him." 

 "Payphones all broken there, Ben?" He took a breath. 

 "I'm sorry that I forgot to phone you. In my concern over Ray...." 

 "How is he?" He ignored the stiffness in her tone. 

 "He'll be all right but he needs someone to stay with him. I'll be
spending the night here." 

 "That should be cozy." 

 "Annie, Ray is my partner and he's hurt. I can't leave him alone." 

 "You're a constable in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. You don't have
a partner in Chicago. You don't even work for the same police department."


 Ben hated the way her words cut into him. One of the few things he
believed in was his partnership. He was barely a police officer in Chicago
except for his work with Ray. He closed his eyes to gather his thoughts. 

 A call from the bedroom interrupted and he stood up. 

 "I have to go now, Annie. We'll talk when I come home." 

 "Don't cut me off, Ben, I'm not finished." 

 Ray called again more urgently. 

 "I'm sorry. Ray is calling, I have to go." 

 "Do not hang up on me." 

 "I'm not, but I have to go. Good night, Annie." 

 He hung the phone up and hurried into the bedroom. Ray was sitting on the
edge of the bed holding his arms around his middle. 

 "I'm gonna be sick," he said. 

 Ben put a steadying hand around his waist. He guided him quickly into the
bathroom then supported his torso with both hands while Ray vomited. The
detective moaned painfully when he finished. Ben settled him on the
bathtub edge and wet a washcloth with cool water. He wiped his face, then
filled a cup with water so he could rinse his mouth. Ray was already
starting to lose consciousness when Ben helped him back to bed. 

 Once his partner was settled into sleep again, Ben returned to the
livingroom. He considered calling Annie back but decided against it. He
was tired. He didn't feel like arguing. He dug a sheet out of the linen
closet and pilfered a pillow from Ray's bed. He settled on to the couch
wearing just his boxers and stared at the ceiling for a long time. 

 Part 18 

 I don't know what to do about Annie. I love her. When we're alone, she's
happy. She's funny and considerate, intelligent and playful. I love her
touch, her smile, her strength. And yet, there are times like tonight when
she becomes a stranger. 

 I have never lived with a woman before. The rare relationships in my life
have consisted of dating. Except Victoria. The only date we shared ended
in mindless passion followed by betrayal. 

 I know that Annie's request is not unreasonable. I should have phoned
her. I know she worries about me and it's only polite to keep her informed
of my schedule. 

 I was at a hospital stocked with payphones. I waited with Ray for nearly
half an hour before Lieutenant Welsh returned. But I never thought to call
her and that is my mistake, not hers. 

 After our dinner with Ray and Karen the weekend before, Annie apologized
a dozen times or more. She was genuinely sorry. If she can look at her
part honestly, then I should be able to do the same. If I love her, then
she should come first. 

 I don't want a relationship that mirrors my parents. While I know that my
father loved my mother entirely, he never put her first. After her death,
he never remarried or even brought a woman home and I know that he missed
her as I did. But work superceded everything else in his life. He put his
duty before her and before me. I simply can't abide that thinking. 

 All Annie wants is a phone call. 

 Putting my thoughts in order is helpful. I won't call her tonight but I
will apologize tomorrow knowing that I'm wrong. For some reason that
knowledge is not distressing and, in fact, allows me to relax enough to
sleep. 

 When I close my eyes I remember the dog from the street corner. I dream
of Diefenbaker and Ray Vecchio and Ray Kowalski. They're searching for me.
I'm calling to them but they can't hear me. 

 Part 19 

 Ray woke with a moan. He stared at the ceiling happy to recognize his own
bed but he hurt badly. Fraser appeared in his doorway holding two pills
and a glass of water. He was dressed in his riding pants and t-shirt. 

 "It's time for your pills again, Ray. How are you feeling this morning?" 

 "How do I look?" he mumbled grumpily. 

 "Dreadful." 

 "There's your answer." 

 "Do you need help to the restroom?" 

 "You are way too cheerful in the morning." 

 "So I've been told. Regarding the restroom?" 

 "Nah, I'm good. Haven't needed help since my mom was around." 

 "Are you hungry?" 

 "Starving." Ray paused as a memory started to surface. Still feeling
fuzzy from the medication it took a moment for him to remember. 

 "You helped me last night, didn't ya? When I was sick?" 

 "The pain medication was making it difficult for you...." 

 "Wait, wait," Ray interrupted, "I mean, I know why I needed help but that
was nice of you. And staying with me too. We don't know each other that
good so it's nice of you." 

 "We're partners, Ray. I hope we're friends." Kowalski was surprised by
the need in Fraser's voice. He sounded almost desperate. From Fraser's
expression, the Mountie was surprised as well. 

 "Yeah, we are. On both counts." 

 Fraser gave him a quick nod and an almost smile before his usual
neutrality returned. "I'll go make breakfast." 

 Kowalski managed to get to the bathroom and back. He didn't dare shower
since he was still shaky. The medicine played with his balance though the
pain was already fading to manageable. He dragged an old pair of sweats
out of a drawer. They were an odd shade of green and Ray didn't think that
was their original color. He moved slowly towards the livingroom. When he
came through the door he heard Fraser's voice. 

 "As I said, I only called to apologize, Annie, I have no wish to
argue...There's no reason to yell...Yes, I know...I'm going to hang up
now...Annie...Annie...We can talk when you're willing to be..." Fraser
looked at the phone as he put the receiver back. He looked up, then away
in embarrassment upon seeing Ray. 

 "Sorry. Wasn't trying to listen in." 

 "Not to worry," Fraser said, standing up and going to the kitchen,
"Breakfast will be ready in a moment." 

 "You can go home if you need to, Fraser. I'm all right now." 

 "Nonsense, Ray. I promised the doctor I'd watch over you for a couple of
days and I plan to. You're still too weak to look after yourself." 

 Ray sunk slowly on to the couch, careful not to bend too much. He leaned
back against the arm and hugged his chest tiredly. 

 "Women don't like it when you stay away from home, Fraser. Especially for
work." 

 "Looking after you has nothing to do with work, Ray. I'd be here
regardless." 

 "That's great but if you wanna keep her, you gotta give in to what she
wants sometimes." 

 "I believe I'm capable of compromise, Ray, but you're not a negotiable
issue. I promise you that I'll work this out with Annie later. I'll call
her in the afternoon and hopefully she'll be more receptive." 

 Kowalski yawned as he leaned back into the couch. He laid one arm over
his eyes feeling weak and sleepy. 

 "I gotta call Welsh," he said, dreading the call as much as he dreaded
sitting up. 

 Fraser finished scrambling the eggs. He took the fresh toast from the
toaster and buttered it. Ray didn't have milk or rather milk that wasn't
lumpy so Fraser gave him coffee instead. It was too difficult for Ray to
lean over the coffee table so he held the plate in his hands while he ate.


 "You wanna know what happened?" Ray asked, feeling more awake after
eating. Fraser nodded. "That girl you met...Delfina Bradshaw...Parks and
his bunch killed her...." Ray's voice caught for a moment. He cleared his
throat and handed his plate to Fraser. "I went down and told them that I
knew it and I was gonna bring them down for it. On the way back to my car,
I heard a fight in an alley. About three steps into it, I knew I was set
up. They must've taken a different street to get there. It must've taken
Donny about ten seconds to decide to take me. Anyway, I don't know how
many cuz somebody grabbed me from behind and chucked a paper bag over my
head. There were two at least, maybe three, maybe more. They started doing
a real good job on me. I figured they'd do me like Eric. But a cop came by
and started yelling and broke it up. He probably knows how many, and he
should have a description. Ya know, this might be the break we need to get
Parks." 

 "Perhaps. We can ask Lieutenant Welsh when you phone him. What happened
after the police officer arrived?" 

 "I could hear him calling for backup and a lot of footsteps running
around. He took the bag off my head and stayed with me 'til the EMT's
came. They did their usual pawing and prodding and bundled me up for the
hospital." 

 "You were very lucky, Ray." 

 "Yep," Ray agreed, nodding. 

 "And you made huge errors in judgment." 

 "Huh?" he asked, turning his head too fast and regretting it. 

 Fraser's voice was flat with anger, "How could you take that sort of
chance? You could have been killed. Did you even consider the risk you
were taking?" 

 "Easy there, Fraser." 

 "Do not attempt to placate me. You're my partner. You went against orders
and sense and nearly paid with your life. It's unacceptable." 

 "It's my life." 

 "You acted irrationally and irresponsibly and that's your defense?"
Fraser took their breakfast plates into the kitchen, nearly flinging them
into the sink. He turned on the tap to wash the dishes. 

 "I know it was stupid. I got the bruises to prove it." 

 Fraser's voice took on an intense seriousness, "You must not take
unnecessary chances, Ray. You're a police officer. You have a
responsibility to take care of yourself. You have a duty to those you work
with. It's wrong to just go off on a whim and forget about those who care
about you." 

 "That's not what I did." 

 "Of course it is." 

 Ray sat up straighter now that the dizziness had passed. He found his
partner viciously scrubbing at a fry pan. 

 "I won't leave you, Fraser. We're partners for the haul, okay?" 

 Fraser looked up from the soapy water. He blinked and rubbed a damp thumb
over his eyebrow. Without another word, he looked back down and continued
scrubbing. 

 Part 20 

 It is nine in the morning when I leave Ray's apartment. I spent two
nights on his couch administering medicine, helping him shower and dress,
cooking meals. He's improved enough to care for himself now. 

 I'm still disturbed by his observation the day before. How could he have
known that my fear for his safety was purely selfish? He is far too
intuitive for my comfort. 

 I've phoned Annie twice over the last two days. She hasn't answered the
phone. Her phone message is a computer voice that only gives the caller
the phone number that he or she has dialed. I believe she must be at home
so she's avoiding me. 

 I walk to the front door prepared for the fight that I know is coming. I
called and left a message that I was on my way. I don't know if I'll be
packing my things or trying to salvage our relationship. I know that I
don't want to be alone anymore and I'm hoping that's not her decision. 

 I don't hesitate to use my key. When I come through the door, she's
hanging up the phone. She sets the cordless receiver on the table and
looks at me. Her face is swollen and her eyes are red from tears. 

 "You're home," she says. 

 "Ray is well enough to stay alone." 

 "You think you did the right thing?" 

 "Staying with him was the right thing but I ..." 

 The rest is lost as she reverts to slow motion. At least to my eyes. I
barely see the phone leave her hand. My arm comes up in reflex and the
phone crashes into my broken wrist. I'm vaguely aware of the phone popping
before it shatters to the floor. I realize I'm backing up when I hit the
door. 

 She is on me a second later. Her voice is like a hyena, screeching and
senseless. Her fists pummel at my face and chest while I bring my arms up
to protect myself. It's difficult to stop her with one hand but I finally
manage to shove her away from me. She jerks away then darts across the
room behind the couch. I'm stunned but I can see her twisting her hands. 

 I flinch backward when she comes to me again but this time she's gentle.
She lowers us to the floor slowly, cradling my head and sobbing. The pain
is taking shape now. I know I'll be bruised. My wrist is throbbing and one
of my eyes is starting to swell. She continues stroking me and crying and
apologizing. 

 I don't know how long we stay on the floor. I think I should push her
away but I don't. It feels too good to be held, to be nursed and
comforted. After some time passes, she helps me stand and leads me to the
couch. 

 She leaves me for a moment then returns with an ice pack. She holds it
against my eye and forehead. When I wince from the cold she draws her body
beside mine and holds me tighter. 

 "I don't understand," I whisper. 

 "I'm sorry. I shouldn't lose my temper like that. I'm sorry. God, you
should've come home, Ben. I needed you to be here. I don't mean to get
like that. I'm sorry, really, it's just that you didn't call and then I
needed you and you weren't here." 

 The desperation in her voice is palpable. I'm so afraid that she's about
to leave me that I can barely breathe. I hate this weakness in me. I
probably deserved her attack for being so needy. 

 She shifts again carefully so that now her body is beneath mine. Her arms
are strong and sure around me. She keeps the ice pack in place with one
hand while she strokes my arm with the other. I feel her lips against my
temple. 

 "There's something I should've told you, Ben. I just...I couldn't. I was
afraid you'd hate me and it's so hard to talk about." 

 "You can tell me anything." My voice is hoarse and the words scratch
against my throat. 

 "I was married, Ben. I still am." She must feel me stiffen because she
rushes on with her explanation. "I'm in the middle of the divorce. Past
middle. It'll be final in just a few days. That's why I needed you to be
here. I'm so scared and I..." 

 "You're married," I say so softly I barely hear myself. I don't know if
she heard me but I have to leave and I don't know how to go. If she's
married, then I'm helping her to commit adultery, assisting in her
betrayal of another person. I start to squirm in her grasp, feeling the
breath caught deeply in my lungs suddenly unable to find a place to
escape. She holds me tighter. 

 "Please, please, Ben, just let me explain. Don't get upset yet." 

 I subside because I can't seem to do anything else. My brain seems to
have deserted me in favor of the horrible pain in my chest. 

 "We haven't lived together for more than two years now. We just...we
didn't do the divorce. But he called me a couple of months ago because he
wants to marry someone else. I wasn't going to fight him. I knew our
marriage was over but, he... oh, Ben, he has our son. I have an
eight-year-old boy. His name is Scott and I haven't seen him in over a
year because John won't let me near him. All I want from the divorce is
equal rights with our son but he won't let me have it. He has a lot of
money, Ben. He can keep this going for years." 

 I still can't speak but the pain is lessening slowly. She's been
separated for two years. She's near the end of a divorce process. Surely,
this can't be called adultery except in the strictest, most legal meaning
of the word. That thought sends another wave of panic through me. Am I
breaking the Illinois law? Ignorance is no excuse. 

 "My lawyer has been trying to work out an agreement but John keeps
pulling strings. I won't give up Ben. A child should have his mother. I
should have my son. I know you understand that better than anyone. But
it's all so complicated and John called yesterday. He's coming in town to
see me, to convince me about signing away Scott. He can't make me but it's
...it's so much pressure and I'm just at the breaking point. I know I've
been terrible but I needed to tell you and you wouldn't come home and..."
She falls silent, resting her head against mine. 

 I don't know what to say now. I suppose part of me is in shock but the
facts are crystallizing. She is married in name only and is in the process
of divorce. She is in desperate need of support from me so how can I leave
her? And by whose standard am I in the wrong? My own is the only answer I
can think of and I know that I am overly strict. I used that same type of
rigidity in dealing with Victoria and it nearly cost me my sanity. 

 I can't leave her because she's legally married. Regardless of the law,
regardless of my personal standards, it would be a poor reason to walk
away from love. 

 My throbbing wrist brings me to the other immediate problem. But I find I
can rationalize her attack easily. Afterall, what mother would not be
desperate if separated from her child? I abandoned her when she needed me
even if it wasn't my intention. My injuries are minor. I can work through
this with her. I know I can. 

 "We can argue, Annie," I say, finally. "But this must never happen again.
No one hits here. Not ever again." She is crying when she agrees. 

 "I'm sorry that I wasn't here," I add but it's all I can manage for now. 

 I can't even begin to think about categorizing her secrets, her
omissions. I'm overwhelmed and the feeling is so abnormal, so foreign that
I can't seem to fight it. 

 Part 20 

 Ben endured the curious looks from Turnbull over the next couple of days.
He offered no explanation and as a junior officer, Turnbull couldn't
properly ask about the black eye unless he suspected foul play rather than
an accident. And why would he suspect such a thing? 

 He avoided going to the 27th. He phoned Ray daily but made excuses not to
see him. 

 By the fourth day, his eye had healed sufficiently so he planned to stop
by the station after work. Sitting at his desk he thought back to the
night when Annie attacked him. They eventually moved into the bedroom.
Passion and need took them in hand. He felt as if he were battling rather
than making love. Afterward she had curled against him like a frightened
child. While he held her, she recounted the details of her marriage. 

 She met John Claire when she was a sophomore at the University. They
dated for three years until they graduated. She was a graphic design
specialist; he was an architect. At the time of her graduation she
discovered that her degree was mostly useless. John was in high demand. On
the day he was accepted into a prestigious firm, he proposed and they
stayed married for ten years. He supported her when she wanted to quit the
bank and open her own business. They had a baby by then and agreed that
she could stay at home with him while she worked. By the time their son
was turning four, John was growing tired of his wife and he developed a
roaming eye. While she stayed home with Scott, he caroused. Shortly after
Scott's sixth birthday, they decided to separate permanently. Annie
intended to take Scott with her when she moved out but John waited until
she left the house for errands and took their son out of state. 

 She found them easily enough. John had moved to Ohio to work in the main
offices of his architectural firm. He refused to bring Scott home or allow
her to see him. Because she was dealing with two different states, there
were issues of jurisdiction and differing laws regarding child custody.
Annie had cried openly while she described the horrible year when she
couldn't even speak to her son by phone. Finally John agreed to meet her
in Missouri at the home of his parents. 

 She spent two weeks living with her in-laws and with Scott. She was
allowed to be alone with him inside the house but she wasn't allowed to
take him outside unless John accompanied them. She was so desperate to
spend time with Scott that she agreed to their rules. But at the end of
two weeks, John told her to go home. 

 Shortly after she returned to Chicago she learned that he was seeing a
woman in his firm. He wanted to marry her and get a clean divorce from
Annie. All Annie wanted was equal, joint custody with her son but John
refused. He didn't want Scott to have two mothers. He wanted their son to
accept John's fiancee as his parent. 

 With the divorce hearing coming up and with it, a final decision
regarding her son's custody, she was barely able to function. She
apologized a hundred times or more for not telling Ben all of this at the
beginning. She said she didn't want to burden him and she didn't want the
ugliness to touch them. But keeping quiet cost her. The pressure of
dealing with her husband alone while balancing a new relationship, not to
mention keeping her secret had propelled her to the edge of sanity. 

 Ben capped his pen before he stood up. He stretched, then rubbed his
wrist absently. A visit to the doctor revealed that two more weeks with
the brace was required. He was anxious to be rid of it. 

 Tugging his red tunic down, he stopped by Constable Turnbull's desk to
tell him that he was going to see Detective Vecchio. Chicago was in the
midst of a full-blown drought and the heat was unyielding. By the time Ben
walked to the station he was ready to rip off the heavy wool tunic. He
went through the halls drinking in the air conditioning imagining that
steam could be seen rising from his clothes. 

 Ray came out of the men's room and they nearly collided. 

 "Whoa, Fraser, that was close." 

 "Pardon me, Ray," Ben apologized. 

 Ray looked at him closely and frowned. "What happened to your eye?" 

 "Oh, well, just an error on my part. I'm surprised you can even see the
bruise." 

 "So...an error... what's that? I had an accident in Canadian?" 

 "Something like that." 

 The two men started walking in opposite directions. They stopped and
turned back to face each other. 

 "You coming with me?" Ray asked. 

 "Yes, Ray. I just assumed you were going back to your desk." 

 "Never assume, Fraser." 

 They walked back out of the building. Ben watched his partner move glad
to see he was agile despite his recent injuries. They both climbed into
the latest motor pool vehicle. Since they were forced to drive Ray
Vecchio's car into Lake Michigan Ray had been assigned a series of less
than favorable vehicles. This time he was driving an orange Chevy LeSabre.


 "Okay, the yellow Duster was bad but please...orange? Do these guys hate
me or what?" 

 "I'm sure they don't hate you, Ray." 

 "No, they hate Vecchio," he grumbled once they were safely inside and out
of anyone else's hearing. 

 "I don't recall the motor pool having any issues with Ray, Ray. In fact,
he rarely used their services. There was the time after he blew up the
first Riviera but...ah, you may have a point...that was a questionable
vehicle." 

 "Broke down a lot?" 

 "Often, yes." 

 "Figures." 

 They lapsed into silence for a few moments before Ben asked about their
destination. Ray glanced at him, then looked back at the road. 

 "We're meeting Huey and Dewey down at the alley where I got jumped." 

 "Looking for evidence against Parks and the others?" 

 "Yeah. Since they popped a bag over my head, I can't ID them and the cop
that chased them off didn't get a good enough look." 

 "I've been giving that some thought, Ray. You say that you left Don Parks
in front of the high school, is that correct?" 

 "Yeah, with a bunch of his pals." 

 "Then you were walking back to your vehicle when there was a commotion in
the alley." 

 "Yeah, some girl yelling. When I went down to see what was going on, they
grabbed me." 

 "Did you lose anything during the attack, Ray? Your wallet perhaps?" 

 "Yeah, bastards took it. Spent most of yesterday getting my badge and ID
replaced. What a pain in the ass that was." 

 "I'm sure," Ben said. "Now when Eric and Delfina were found, were their
heads covered in any way?" 

 "Nah, but they already saw them, no point in trying to hide who they
were. Where are you going with this?" 

 "Is it possible that you were the victim of a random robbery?" 

 "Why would you think that?" Ben was surprised to find curiosity rather
than anger in his voice. 

 "If Parks wanted to kill you then he would have no need to cover your
face. Also, why would they attack you? You don't have enough evidence for
an arrest or you would have made one. And surely they must realize that if
you were gone, the police would simply send someone else. The murder of a
police detective would draw more attention rather than less." 

 "So you're saying I got jumped for nothing." 

 "Not at all, I'm saying you were jumped for your wallet." 

 Ray frowned. 

 "A random mugging? You really think so? Cuz, I'm thinking I wanna take
down Parks for this." 

 "It seems a more plausible explanation." 

 "Yeah it does. Damnit." 

 Since his hat would not fit on the dash, Ben turned it in his hands. The
air conditioning in the car was less than adequate and he squirmed
uncomfortably in his uniform. 

 "Sorry about the A/C. This won't take long, then we can head back to the
station." 

 "Thank you, Ray." 

 "So, uh, you're still alive so I guess Annie forgave you, huh?" 

 "Yes," he answered, hoping Ray wouldn't ask for details. 

 "Don't wanna talk about it?" 

 "It would be disrespectful to discuss our disagreements with a third
person. But I believe we've reached an understanding." 

 "Yeah, Stella used to call my mom all the time and tell her everything.
It drove me crazy." He hesitated. "But you know, sometimes it's good to
talk about stuff. If you want to, ya know?" 

 "That's very kind of you, Ray." 

 Kowalski glanced at his partner. 

 "You feeling all right? You look like you're maybe sick or something." 

 "No, not at all. Perhaps it's the heat." 

 "Yeah, I guess," Ray said but he didn't sound convinced. 

 Part 21 

 Three days passed without incident. Annie has mostly returned to her
loving self. But there is an edge to her that I missed before. It's hard
and sharp and comes out in the form of criticism or insults. She feels
strongly that my upbringing left me lacking in many areas of general
knowledge. I can't decide if I'm being sensitive when she jokes or if her
laughter is truly mocking. 

 Most of the time, we're happy. She's affectionate and accepts that I love
her without question. I've resolved that whatever problems I feel exist
between us are mine. She shows no indication that she feels uncomfortable
or wary regarding us so it must be my own inexperience. 

 I have noticed that my appetite is gone. Annie complains that I barely
eat dinner and she's not wrong. I assure her that I eat during the day and
that's true. I usually manage crackers or half a sandwich. Nothing else
appeals to me. 

 I know the reason for my lack of hunger and my father visits frequently
to prevent any sort of denial. He points out that I'm being untrue to
myself so my body is reacting to that stress. He says that I'm allowing my
relationship with Annie to rule me. I'm giving in to my basest desire for
companionship. I argue with him and point out that couples have
difficulties and one cannot simply run away at the first trouble. But even
as the words are spoken, I know that what is wrong between Annie and me is
not a typical problem, nor is it likely to be resolved. 

 When my father disappears, apparently giving up on my stubbornness, I
don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. 

 The search that Ray and I made of the alley earlier that week produced
nothing of consequence. We're no closer to arresting the individuals that
mugged Ray or connecting Don Parks to the murders of Delfina and Eric. I
know that Ray is frustrated. At this point, unless a witness comes forward
or Parks confesses, there will be no way to prosecute for the killings. 

 I've spent a long Saturday at the station with Ray going over the files,
looking for some way to build a case. I met him at eight in the morning.
For Ray to want to rise that early, I know he's sincerely bothered by our
lack of progress. He is deeply committed to bringing Parks and the others
to justice. 

 I phoned Annie in the middle of the day from the station. She was working
on a newly assigned project of designing four related book covers. She
said she was busy but she missed me and wanted me to come home soon. 

 A few hours later, when Ray and I have exhausted all of our research and
brainstorming efforts, I decide to leave. Ray wants to stay longer so I
offer to remain but he refuses me. I know he feels depressed and
inadequate but he knows that Annie is waiting and he admits there's little
left to do at this point. 

 As I walk home I continue trying to work out some sort of solution for
him. I think we should re-interview some of Delfina's friends and attempt
to trace the steps that led to her death. 

 It's with this thought that I come through our front door to near
disaster. 

 "You bastard," Annie says as soon as she sees me. She is standing in the
living room, her hands curled into white-knuckled fists at her sides. 

 "What's wrong?" I ask, instantly wary and thoroughly confused. 

 "Did you fuck her?" 

 "Pardon?" 

 "You lying, cheating bastard. You leave my bed and go to hers? Is that
what you do all day? You fuck me and run to her?" 

 I put my hands up in a calming gesture. 

 "Annie, I have no idea what you're talking about." 

 "You won't quit your job because of that little tramp? Can't stand the
idea of staying home with me all day?" 

 "If you will tell me what you're talking about...." 

 I manage to miss being struck by the lamp that she hurls at me. The solid
glass statue is another matter. It slams into my chest like a fist. I
manage to pivot and keep my balance until she attacks bodily. She hits me
with all of her strength in the face. It is not a slap, it's a hard-fisted
punch to my cheek and it's enough to knock me backward into the door. 

 I put my hands over my head while she pounds at me. Annie is not small or
frail. When I reach for her arms, she grabs my injured wrist instead and
twists before shoving it back at me. Pain shoots all the way to my
shoulder. I manage to push her away and she tumbles. 

 She gets up and flees to the other side of the room. I can hear her harsh
breathing. I try to stand but I'm no more than halfway up, using the wall
for support when she comes screeching back at me. All I can do now is try
to protect myself from the worst of her rage. She punches me in the side,
hip, wherever she can find that's undefended. I'm shouting at her to stop,
to just stop. 

 Finally, Annie tires and retreats again. I'm backed into the corner near
the door. I want to escape but my mind and body won't work together.
Through the buzz in my brain, I can hear her hysterical crying. Through
slitted eyes I see her kneeling on the floor hugging herself and rocking. 

 I push myself upward though it's painful and dizzying. I can't use my
right arm. Even when I try to force movement through the pain, my arm
won't obey me. Breathing hurts. I don't think anything is broken but I'm
certain that my chest is bruised, perhaps the ribs beneath as well. My
right hip and thigh are throbbing. The copper taste of blood is on my
tongue. 

 "Why," she moans through her crying. "Why did you do that?" 

 I am shaking from head to toe with adrenaline pumping through me like a
drug and I can't understand what she's talking about. 

 "Do what?" I finally manage as I stand. 

 "Francesca," she finally says. 

 "Francesca Vecchio?" 

 "Don't you dare say her name to me." The anger is back and I'm afraid
she'll attack again. I never expected to fear her. There's something
terribly perverse about being beaten by someone you love. 

 "She's Ray Vecchio's sister. She's being trained to replace Elaine
Besbriss at the 27th." 

 "She called here. She wants you to come to dinner. She says she'll be
wearing something special for you." 

 "I've often shared meals with the Vecchio's." 

 "Is she your lover?" Annie's voice is a coarse whisper. 

 "My...She's Ray's sister." 

 "That doesn't really answer the question, Ben. Why is she going to wear
something special for you?" She isn't crying anymore. Her voice is still
and even and frightening. 

 "Fran...She has an infatuation with me, I suppose. She's been trying to
gain my interest for some time. I would imagine she's unaware of our
relationship." Confusion is giving way to fury. All of this because
Francesca left a message for me? 

 "Did you fuck her?" 

 "I'm leaving now, Annie." 

 "Answer me," she screams and her voice is enough. 

 "No," I yell back. Then more softly, feeling the bitterness with every
word, "I've never touched her. Your tantrum was for nothing." 

 "Then where are you going?" Her voice is suddenly childlike and she's
still kneeling on the floor. 

 "What?" I'm shocked into immobility by her question. 

 "Please don't leave me, Ben. I just...I can't stand that someone else
might touch you. I love you too much. You'd feel the same if you thought
it was me. You leave me every day and I don't know where you are or what
you're doing and then that woman calls and leaves this...message... for
you. Of course I'm upset. Please, Ben, can't you understand?" I can only
look at her. She looks so fragile. There's something terribly desperate in
her and I finally identify what I saw in her eyes on the first day at the
Consulate. We're both desperate. 

 "I can't stay." My words seem to issue on their own. But then I'm
standing outside the door, leaning against it and shaking. I don't think I
can take a step without collapsing. Inside I hear Annie crying. She's
sobbing and begging me to come back and it's too much. 

 I only manage to reach the steps before I stop. 

 "Keep going, son. You know what you need to do," my father says and for
the first time since his death, I really wish I could touch him. I need
that solidity to strengthen me. 

 I look at him and in his eyes is something I've only seen once before.
The night that I waited for Victoria, lit candles and hoped she would come
back to me. He has that look again. We both know what I should do. We both
know I should go. But I find myself feeling the same things I felt that
night. I feel sick and weak and afraid as if I have no choices open to me.


 "She's wrong for you, Benton. I don't know why you'd want to go back." 

 "I love her, dad. Whatever else there is, I can't let go of that again.
It nearly killed me the last time." 

 "Actually that was your partner, son, but that's not important right now.
You know what the right thing is." 

 "I'm sorry." My voice sounds raw in my ears. "But I can't." 

 I'm not looking at him when I speak this last part. I can't bring myself
to see his disappointment, his disapproval of me. I just turn away
unsteadily and go back inside. 

 Part 23 

 In my mind I understand Annie's actions. She's on edge due to her pending
divorce and custody hearing. Francesca phoned and left a suggestive
message. I should have told Annie about Francesca. I should have informed
Ray's sister that I was in a relationship. It's understandable that Annie
would react strongly to the idea that I may have betrayed her. 

 I can't reconcile why she doesn't trust me or the vehemence of her
reaction. 

 Still, I am partly to blame. My ignorance and inexperience allowed the
misunderstanding to occur. 

 Annie cried all night. She held me and cared for my various bruises while
her tears ran freely. Each time she gained control she would realize her
actions and then she'd cry again. 

 I tried to comfort her. I held her against me, felt her trembling,
stroked her and whispered to her. Her sadness, her regret, her
self-contempt are genuine. When I told her that I accepted part of the
responsibility she grew quiet first, then grateful. She agrees that I
should have told Francesca about us. And she promises that she won't hit
again. She swears she has never struck out at anyone the way she has with
me. 

 That makes me wonder why I evoke such a horrible response. 

 This morning I wake to find that Annie's arms are wrapped so tightly
around me that it's almost suffocating. Her face is swollen; her hair is
matted to her skull. She whimpers in her sleep. 

 I can't go to work. I'm sore all over and two facial injuries in just
over a week can't be ignored. Turnbull will certainly ask or he'll ask
someone else. I have no wish to lie but I can't explain this. 

 It's not just the idea that I would have to discuss our personal
relationship. While I learned from my father and my grandparents that what
goes on inside a home is strictly private; it's not the only reason for my
hiding. I'm embarrassed. 

 Quietly, I phone the Consulate. I leave a message for Turnbull. I tell
him that I won't be in for the next two days but I give no explanation. I
tell him to call me in case of emergency and not to stand sentry. My
opinion is that he's more useful answering phones and greeting visitors
than standing guard outside the Consulate doors. Sentry duty is largely
tradition and appearance. There's no reason to expect anyone to attack a
Canadian Consulate in Chicago. 

 I can expect a reprimand from Inspector Thatcher but there's little else
that I can do now. 

 My wrist is still throbbing dully. My ribs ache from the impact of the
statue. Bruises have appeared on my legs and hips and arms. When I slip
from Annie's embrace to use the bathroom it's difficult to walk. I feel as
if I've been in an accident. I'm disturbed when the thought occurs to me
that falling down a flight of stairs probably feels like this. How many
domestic violence cases have I investigated when the spouse claims they
tumbled on stairs or ran into a door? Too many is the answer. 

 I return to bed to find Annie has wakened. She looks at me. Her eyes
widen and she moans in despair. I braved the mirror in the bathroom and I
know she's seeing the evidence of our fight. 

 I crawl back into bed, grateful to lie down. Putting my arms out, Annie
comes to me. She clings against me as if she expects that I'll disappear.
It's almost like being clawed as she rakes her fingers into my chest. She
is crying and shaking. I comfort her for a long time before we both sleep
again. 

 This time we wake together to the sound of our doorbell ringing. We look
at each other and there's temptation to ignore it. I'm afraid that I know
who's there. Annie rises, puts on her blue bathrobe, then curls an arm
beneath her hair and flips it outside the collar before she leaves the
bedroom. 

 I follow but only as far as the bedroom door. I need to know who is
outside. 

 "Good morning, Annie. Is Fraser here?" 

 I freeze as my fear is realized. 

 "Hi, Ray. Yeah, he is but he's sleeping right now." She lies too easily
and my chest feels tight as I listen. 

 "Turnbull said he called in for a couple days off. Is he sick?" 

 "A touch of food poisoning, I think." 

 "That can be bad. You take him to a doctor?" I don't know if I hear
concern or suspicion in his voice, perhaps both. 

 "No. We decided he'd be okay. He spent most of the night vomiting so he's
tired out now but I think the worst is over." 

 "Anything I can do? Ya got Ginger Ale? I can get the Canadian stuff."
It's his last statement that's my undoing. I can't allow the lie to
continue. I'm ashamed I've let it go this far. 

 "Ray," I say. He looks up, surprised. Then his face changes to shock. He
was expecting someone with food poisoning not someone who's battered. 

 "Jesus, Fraser, what happened to you?" 

 "It's not important, Ray." 

 "The hell it isn't." He has passed Annie and is standing in the
livingroom. 

 "I'm all right, Ray. I just need a couple of days to allow for the
swelling to go down." 

 "Tell me what happened." His voice is quiet but demanding. 

 "I can't do that. I'm sorry." 

 "Look, Fraser, you been beat up. That's a crime, I'm a cop. Now, tell me
what the fuck happened to ya." 

 "Language, Ray." 

 "Fuck that." 

 "Ray!" I'm serious and he knows it. I don't appreciate the obscene side
of his colorful speech and I won't tolerate it in front of Annie but he
doesn't back down. 

 "Tell me or I'll haul you down to the station and you can tell Welsh." 

 "You won't do that." 

 "Maybe not but I might pop you one if you don't tell me." He takes a
breath and changes tactics. "I have to fill out a report if you got
mugged, Fraser." 

 Briefly it occurs to me to tell him that I had an accident of some sort
but I can't lie and certainly not to Ray. 

 "I'm not going to press charges so a report is unnecessary." 

 "So you did get jumped." 

 "Stop it, Ray," Annie intervenes. "Leave him alone. You heard his
decision." 

 Ray lowers his voice automatically when he speaks to her. "I am not gonna
do that." 

 "You don't have a choice, Ray. He doesn't want to prosecute and he
doesn't want to discuss it. It's his life, you know, you can't force him."


 Ray is a police officer. I can practically see the light go on in his
mind when the truth hits him. He doesn't look at Annie but focuses on me
instead. His rage is palpable and I almost take a step back from him. 

 "Let's go," he growls. 

 "No, Ray," I answer. 

 "Fraser..." 

 "I'm sorry, not right now." 

 "He doesn't want to go with you," Annie says. She hasn't realized that
Ray knows that she's my attacker. 

 "No one's talking to you," he says, throwing a dangerous look at her. She
takes a step back. She knows now. 

 I know I have to talk to him. I owe it to him to explain. 

 "I'll meet you at the diner on the corner, Ray. Betty's. I'll meet you at
Betty's in half an hour." 

 "Ben, you shouldn't go out," Annie says, sounding like a worried mother. 

 "You'll be there," Ray asks me, ignoring her. He needs me to promise. 

 "I'll be there." 

 "Ben...." She's pleading now. 

 "I'll be there," I repeat. He nods and walks out. 

 Part 23 

 Annie turns to face me when the door closes behind my partner. There is
such desperation and fear on her face that I go to her and hug her
tightly. Her trembling is contagious. 

 "He'll make you leave me," she whispers through her tears. 

 "No," I assure her. 

 "He'll tell you I'm bad, that I'm evil and you should leave me. He'll
want to arrest me." 

 "Shsh." I whisper while she rubs her nose and lips against my neck. 

 "He'll say terrible things about me and you'll believe him, Ben. You'll
think about last night and you'll believe everything he says. You'll leave
me, Ben. I know it." 

 "I have to go speak with him, Annie. I'll explain the pressure you've
been under. It'll be all right." 

 "He won't understand why you let this happen. You're so big. It won't
make any sense and he'll think you're weak. I hate that he'll think that."


 She's right, of course. She weighs very little next to me. Ray won't
understand how she could injure me. But it's too late to pretend
otherwise. And I couldn't lie to him in any event. If he sees me as weak,
then that's what he'll see. I don't believe he's wrong. 

 "I have to go, Annie. I need to shower first." 

 She releases me and I make my way slowly to the bedroom. I pull jeans and
a gray shirt from the closet before I take a shower. The water feels
alternately wonderful and painful but my body rejoices in the cleansing. I
come out feeling weaker but more relaxed and I'm no longer shaking. 

 I dress as quickly as I can in my injured state. I ignore the loose fit
of my jeans. After I've dressed, not bothering to tuck in my shirt or wear
a belt, I find Annie sitting on the couch. Her face is cradled in her
hands. She's crying again. I know two things, if I go to her, try to ease
her pain, then I may not make it to the door, but if I don't I definitely
will not go. 

 I kneel in front of her and take her by the wrists. Gently I tug them
away so that she must look at me. My smile feels weak and forced. There's
such a profound sadness in me that breathing is difficult. 

 "I'll return and we'll work through this together." 

 "Promise me." Her mouth makes the words but there's no sound. 

 "I promise." I kiss her lightly. My split lip stings at the pressure of
her. Rising slowly, I regret my earlier impulse to kneel. 

 As I leave her, as I walk towards the door, I'm surprised that she
doesn't call me back. Apparently her desperation has not yet led to a
complete loss of pride. I can't say the same for myself. 

 Part 24 

 I walk two blocks to Betty's Diner. By the time I reach the door, I'm
breathing hard and holding my wrist against my abdomen. I haven't eaten in
nearly a day, but the smell of food makes me nauseous as I enter. Ray is
already there. He's nursing a cup of coffee at the counter. He scoots off
the stool when he sees me and suggests we take a table. 

 Once we're settled, we don't seem to know where to begin. Ray wants to
say many things, I can see it on his face, but I think he's afraid of
alienating me. I soon realize I must start the conversation. 

 "It isn't as it appears, Ray." 

 "She give you that shiner? She blacken your eye the last time?" His voice
is matter-of-fact. I know I can't lie but I wish I could. I wish I could
deflect his questions. But it's too much effort to try. 

 "Yes," I answer after a moment. 

 "Then it's what it looks like, Fraser. And it's obviously killing you." 

 "It was my fault, Ray. I didn't...." 

 "Don't say that." 

 "You want to know...." 

 "Do not say that. Whatever she did, whatever reason, it's not your
fault." 

 "I'm very new at relationships, Ray. I've been making dreadful mistakes."


 "She hit you. She...fuck it all to hell." He almost spits out the last. I
give him a moment while he sips at his coffee and stares out of the diner
window. A waitress brings us water and I try again. 

 "Ray, this is an isolated incident. She's experiencing some problems that
are causing her a great deal of stress. Balancing that with my general
ignorance regarding relationships has simply led to an unfortunate
incident." 

 "Two incidents." 

 "All right, two incidents." 

 "She's assaulting you, Fraser. She is committing assault on your person.
It's called domestic violence, spousal abuse." 

 "No, it's not." 

 "Then what is it?" he challenges. 

 "She has a very bad temper, Ray. She doesn't mean it." 

 "Fraser, you're kidding yourself. You two haven't been together a month
and look at you. This can only get worse." He hesitates a moment before
pounding a fist against the table. There's almost no noise from the impact
but it startles me anyway. "I knew there was something wrong with you." 

 "I'm fine, Ray. I really am. You don't know her as I do. She asks very
little of me so I just have to remember to treat her courteously." 

 His eyes narrow as his face reddens. Somehow he's holding in the volume
but his voice is sarcastic and hard. 

 "You have to remember to be polite? You? Gimme a break, Fraser." 

 "I appreciate your concern," I say, feeling attacked. "But I don't need
assistance. You came by after one unfortunate event. It's not typical. Do
you honestly believe that I would allow this to happen repeatedly? I'm a
police officer..." 

 "Yeah, you are. You've seen this stuff. You know how it's gonna end. How
many women you run into, they're bruised, they're bleeding, they got
broken bones. And what're they doing, Fraser? They're saying he didn't
mean it. He's not like that. He's having a bad day. Right?" 

 I can see that he doesn't realize what he's saying. He's comparing Annie
to truly horrible individuals. I've seen men who beat their wives and
girlfriends and children. They're vicious, ugly people. They are not
Annie. 

 "I'm not a woman, Ray." 

 "What's that supposed to mean?" 

 "You said that women make excuses for their abuser. I am not a woman. I'm
larger and stronger than she is. I'm able to defend myself adequately. The
situation you are describing is not equal to this." 

 Ray is shaking his head. He's returned to looking out the window. I'm
starting to think he's giving up. Or perhaps he's just too angry with me
to continue the argument. I know he's disgusted with me. As I am with
myself. Because despite my insistence to the contrary, I think that
perhaps, he's right. It is the tiny chance that he's wrong that keeps me
defensive. 

 Ray turns back to me. He leans slightly into the table, sliding his
coffee to the side. He looks at me with such...I'm not certain...despair,
anger, sadness, other emotions so deeply entrenched in his eyes that I
can't read them. 

 "We don't know each other real well, Fraser. I mean we been together a
couple months and you know about the bank when I was a kid, and you know
about Stella, so I guess you know me better than I know you. I mean, what
have you told me? I read the case files so I know about your dad's murder
and that crazy chick that almost got you and Vecchio fired. Welsh and
Francesca told me that Vecchio's your best friend and you two were pretty
much joined at the hip. But, you...you tell me nothing." 

 "Ray, I..." 

 "I'm not asking for your life story, Fraser. You'll tell me stuff when
you want to. But I got eyes and I'm not stupid. Vecchio dumped you. And
then you lost Dief. And Thatcher kicked you out of your home." 

 "A cot in my office is not a home, Ray." 

 He waves his hand, dismissing my words. 

 "You know what I'm saying. You're out of sorts with your life. You're
feeling out of control and you're lonely, Fraser. Annie takes that away,
doesn't she? She makes you feel like you're not alone. And if she loses it
and hurts you, it's a lot easier to blame yourself than it is to blame
her. Cuz if you do, Fraser, if you put it back on her, then you gotta
leave. You gotta pack your bags and go back to your lonely little cot. And
that hurts too much, doesn't it?" 

 "Ray, please...." I don't think I can listen anymore. My chest is too
tight. My eyes feel hot. The few sips of water in my stomach are churning.


 "I'm sorry, Fraser." He knows he's destroying me and it's nearly turned
back on himself. 

 He is right, of course. I know he is. I should leave this diner with him.
We should go to Annie's house, pack my things and find a new apartment.
We're both surprised when I stand up. 

 "Thank you for your advice, Ray. I'll see you in a few days." He stares
up at me, comprehension is still a moment away. "I do appreciate your
effort." 

 "You're going back?" 

 "I love her, Ray." 

 Part 25 

 Ray watched his partner leave the diner. Fraser was limping slightly and
cradling his arm and Ray wanted to offer him a ride. Besides the bruises,
his friend looked pale and sick but he couldn't drive him back to Annie's.
He couldn't show even that much support for a decision that was completely
wrong. 

 With nothing left to do, he went back to the station. As he drove along
the congested streets he considered several possible actions. He could
tell Welsh. The lieutenant might have a suggestion. He could call the Ice
Queen. Thatcher might be able to order Fraser into getting help. He could
run Annie through the police computer to find out if she had any arrests
or convictions. 

 By the time he reached the station, he rejected all of those options.
Fraser was a grown man and a cop; he would have to find his own way. All
Ray could do was be available when the bottom dropped out. 

 Ray groaned inwardly when he found Detective Tom Dewey was waiting for
him at his desk. Dewey waved a plastic baggie at him as soon as he walked
into the bullpen. 

 "Vecchio, I got something for you." 

 "What's that?" 

 "Your wallet." 

 "Where'd you find it?" he asked, surprised and interested. 

 "With a little detective work you'd be amazed what can happen," Dewey
answered flippantly. 

 "Someone turned it in," Jack Huey said, standing up to replace a file in
the cabinet. Dewey glared at him. 

 "Figures," Ray said as he reached out for the bag. 

 "Uh, uh." The other detective taunted as he pulled the bag away. "This is
evidence." 

 "I know that, you moron. I just wanna know if any of my stuff is left.
You know...like my badge." 

 "Guess you'll have to wait 'til after the trial." 

 "If you ever catch anybody. Now, let me see." Kowalski was getting angry.
He didn't need the harassment after the morning he spent with Fraser. 

 "There's nothing in there except your badge. There's some blood on it and
the wallet so we have to keep it for evidence. We're hoping prints will
pull something." Huey answered. 

 "Who turned it in?" 

 "Some kid. Dad brought her in after she found it in the backyard. Looks
like somebody tossed it over the fence after they finished with it." 

 "Thanks, Jack. Your partner's an asshole." 

 "Sometimes, Vecchio." 

 Dewey brushed past Ray with a smirk and pointedly dropped the bag back in
his desk. Ray ignored him, proud of himself for not losing his temper and
jumping him in the station. His self-congratulations were interrupted by a
bellow from Welsh's office. 

 "Close the door," Welsh said after Ray entered. "Where have you been,
Detective?" 

 "I went to check on Fraser. Took longer than I thought." 

 "And why were you checking on the Constable?" 

 "Turnbull said he called in to take a couple days. I figured he was
sick." 

 "Is he?" Ray fidgeted. He didn't want to lie to Welsh but didn't want to
betray Fraser either. "I've noticed that he hasn't quite been himself,"
Welsh encouraged. 

 "Kind of, I guess. He wasn't looking too good when I saw him." 

 "Is it anything serious?" 

 "I don't know yet. Hope not." 

 Welsh studied him for a moment, apparently trying to glean the real story
from him. When Ray didn't flinch, he gave up. 

 "I called you in because Don Parks was busted last night on possession of
a controlled substance. When the officers searched his car, they found a
pair of stained running shoes in the trunk. The lab is running tests now
to determine if it's blood and if it matches either Crothers or Bradshaw."


 "That's great, Lieu," Ray said with a grin. This was the break he needed.
Without the drug charge, they could never have gotten a search warrant. 

 "Here's your warrant," Welsh handed over the papers. "You have his home
and any vehicles on the property. Make it good, Detective. Take Huey and
Dewey with you." 

 "Parks still in custody?" Ray asked as he stood to leave, clutching the
court paper. 

 "Yeah. His hearing is still a couple of hours away." 

 Ray called to Huey and Dewey. He explained the situation while they made
their way to the parking lot. 

 Part 26 

 Ray and the other detectives took the orange LeSabre. The trip was filled
with sarcasm and jabs about the sorry condition of the vehicle intermixed
with working out their plan for serving the warrant. 

 Parks shared a house with a man named Brian Griffith. Ray pegged him as
the second man in the alley at Eric's murder but with nothing more than a
strong suspicion, he hadn't been able to arrest him. Ray's request that
Griffith come to the station to leave a hair and skin sample met with
several seconds of laughter before he started quoting his rights. 

 Griffith was older than Parks and didn't hang with Parks' gang. The fact
that they lived together was the only reason Ray suspected him. Griffith
didn't even have a rap sheet. 

 Ray and Jack elected Tom to knock on the door. Dewey argued but since
Griffith knew Ray and since Jack was the senior partner, he soon found
himself standing at the front gate. 

 The house was small with peeling white paint and a collapsing porch. A
short chain link fence enclosed a front yard filled with more weeds than
grass. 

 Tom went through the gate, up the one step and across the porch. He
half-expected the whole thing to collapse under him. After he knocked on
the door a young boy with dark skin and tightly cropped hair answered. Tom
asked for his parents. 

 "No parents. I live with my brother." 

 "Well son, my name is Detective Dewey and this is a warrant to search
your house and premises. Is your brother here?" 

 "Yeah." The boy turned and called for Brian. Tom glanced back at Ray and
Jack who were approaching the house. He jerked back, going for his gun
when the boy started screaming. A shotgun blast blew him off the porch. 

 Ray stopped in mid-stride when the gun sounded. A heartbeat later he was
pulling his gun and running for the nearest cover. He crouched behind a
thick oak tree. Searching his pockets, he grabbed his glasses and put them
on. 

 Jack watched his partner fly a few feet and land with a thump on the
pavement. He pulled his gun and jumped the fence to get to Tom. No other
shots came from the house. 

 Carefully, Ray stepped into the open. He glanced towards Huey and found
him searching his partner's neck for a pulse with one hand and pointing
his gun at the house with the other. He could see the barrel of the gun
was shaking and hear Huey's voice. "Not again, not again, not again." 

 "This is the police," Ray yelled. "Throw the gun out and come out one at
a time, hands behind your head." 

 Silence that lasted too long followed before a small voice called from
behind the broken and bullet pierced screen door. 

 "I don't have a gun," a trembling voice called out. 

 "Somebody in there does. I wanna see it before I see you." 

 "Brian took it. He went out the back." 

 "Shit. Shit. Shit." Ray muttered to himself. "All right," he yelled. "You
put your hands behind your head and come out real slow. Soon as you get
off the porch, you lay down on your stomach and you don't move." 

 The screen door opened with a squeak before it fell off its hinges. The
boy was lucky the noise didn't get him killed. He was young, maybe
thirteen or fourteen. Ray could see he was shaking even from his view
behind the tree. The boy kept his hands up and behind his head. When he
stepped off the porch, he dropped to his knees and then to his stomach. 

 Jack left Tom in order to cuff the child then he looked at Ray with
glassy eyes that reflected a deeply bred fear. 

 "You all right, Jack?" Ray asked. The other man nodded shakily. 

 Dewey was moaning softly on the pavement. He had rolled onto his side and
curled up with his hands clasped over his chest. There was no blood. 

 "How's Tom?" Ray asked, darting between looking at the house and looking
at the disaster around him. 

 "Wearing a vest," Jack answered. 

 Ray blew out the breath he was holding. 

 "Is there anybody else in there?" he asked the child who was still lying
face down on the sidewalk. 

 "No. It was just me and Brian." 

 Ray crouched down beside Dewey, putting himself between the injured man
and the house. 

 "Get the kid in the car and call for back-up and an ambulance," he said. 

 "What about Tom?" Jack asked. 

 "I'll stay with him. Now go do what I told you." 

 A few tense minutes later the neighborhood filled with sirens. Soon there
were a dozen police units blocking the area from traffic and lining the
streets and one helicopter circling the neighborhood. An ambulance took a
now complaining Dewey to the hospital with Huey riding along. 

 Ray and several other officers entered the house to start the search.
They found guns, they found drugs, but most importantly to Ray, they found
a silver locket that Ray had seen Delfina wear and a small gold ring with
a snake's head. 

 He came out of the house awhile later just as Welsh was arriving. The
lieutenant had gone to the hospital first when he heard about the
shooting. 

 "How's Tom?" Ray asked. 

 "Bruised. No concussion. They're keeping him for a couple of hours for
observation." 

 "What about Jack?" 

 "He's with him. He's pretty shook up but he'll be all right. You find
anything out here?" 

 "Lots of guns, lots of drugs. And we bagged a locket that belonged to
Delfina. There's a snake's head ring too. Looks like the one that Delfina
described." 

 "And the bastard that shot Dewey?" 

 "He ran out the back according to the kid. Shouldn't be too hard to catch
up with him." 

 A dog's bark caught Ray's attention. He looked up to see a young man
pulling at the chain of a white and gray Husky. The dog was nearly wild
and Ray frowned while he watched. He took a couple of steps towards the
commotion. 

 "Dief," he whispered, walking faster now and pulling his glasses out of
his pocket. Welsh went with him. They walked directly into two uniformed
officers. The four men tried to side step each other until finally Ray
broke around them. It was too late. The man and the dog were gone. 

 "You see that?" Ray asked the lieutenant. 

 "Sure looked like him. But he's dead, right? You identified him." 

 "I know, but...." 

 "There's a lot of dogs out there, Vecchio." 

 Ray nodded absently, tugging his glasses off and putting them back in his
pocket. A few moments later his attention was drawn back to the
investigation. 

 Kowalski worked well into the evening that night. He interrogated Don
Parks without any success. Parks had a lawyer and he refused to answer any
questions. Brian Griffith's brother was another matter. 

 Mark Griffith, frightened and abandoned by his brother, admitted to
hearing Don and Brian brag about beating Eric in an alley, about teaching
him a lesson. He knew that Eric had died but he didn't dare talk about it
since the only family he had was Brian and besides that, he was afraid of
both of them. 

 The substance on the shoes in Parks' car was a mixture of blood matching
both Delfina and Eric. Ray thought bitterly that he had worn the same
shoes as if it was a uniform for killing. 

 Ray returned to the bullpen after speaking with Stella to find the room
emptied. He glanced at his watch, surprised to see it was after eight
o'clock. His stomach reminded him he had yet to eat that day. He decided
to pick up Chinese on the way home. 

 As he headed out for the car, he wondered about Fraser. Thinking of that
led to the memory of the dog outside Parks' house. Putting the area into
context, he realized that the Canadian Consulate was only two blocks north
of Parks' neighborhood. 

 He picked up his food, went home and ate. Exhausted and rocking between
elation at the arrest of Parks and depression over Fraser, he crawled into
bed. He played back the scene from the diner. He wondered what was going
on at Annie Claire's house, wondered if Fraser was being hurt. Just as
sleep started to take over, his mind returned to the dog. That dog looked
like Diefenbaker. Ray decided to take some time the next day to poke
around Parks' neighborhood. He needed another look. 

 Part 27 

 I left the diner and my meeting with Ray to walk into another day of
blazing heat. My hip throbbed enough to make me limp. My wrist ached
miserably. I felt hot and damp with perspiration, my muscles ached in a
way I've never experienced. 

 These pains were nothing compared to my chest, not from the impact of the
statue, but rather from the pathetic loss of myself. I had given my
self-respect to Annie. I let her hit me, I let her insult me. And for
what? For sex? For comfort? For just a moment in time without feeling
alone? 

 Even as I had these thoughts, I knew how wretched they sounded. I'm a
grown man seeking affection in any package I can find. 

 As I walked I pictured Annie as she looked on our second date. She was
lovely in that flowered dress, radiating a joyful spirit. Her smile simply
glowed when I clasped the new bracelet to her wrist. Her impulsive kiss
was sweet and warm. 

 I believe that is the exact moment when I knew I loved her. I would kill
or be killed just to walk beside her, feel her fingers encircling my hand.


 With just one more block to cover before reaching our house, I was
overcome with dizziness. I had to stop, to hold on to the rough bark of a
maple tree for support. My stomach turned and tensed and soon it was all I
could do not to vomit. New sweat, different than just the cooling
mechanism of my body, broke out across my face and palms. I remember
taking in deep breaths of air, swallowing hard against the illness and
waiting to feel steady again. 

 As soon as the sickness passed into manageable, I completed the last
block to our house. My heart was pounding into my ribcage at the sight of
our door. Just walking across the sidewalk to the porch was an effort. 

 Perhaps it was a premonition or perhaps it was just a reaction to the
last few weeks but when I opened the door I knew there was trouble waiting
on the other side. 

 Part 28 

 Kowalski woke up from a restless night. He had slept little and when he
did he was bothered by mixed up dreams. Tom Dewey's shooting blended in
with his own mugging and beating, tossed between a sprinkling of both the
mangled body of a half-wolf and a desperate-eyed Fraser. He rose feeling
tired and frustrated. 

 Ray wanted to call Fraser. He could use the wrap-up of the investigation
into Delfina's murder as an excuse. But he couldn't bring himself to pick
up the phone. If Annie answered, which was likely, he wouldn't be able to
control his temper. 

 He couldn't exactly drop in on them either. Not when all of them knew the
truth. Fraser would never allow Annie to be put in that position. And it
would probably make things worse. He couldn't risk alienating his partner,
not if he hoped to help him. 

 Ray showered, dressed and took a handful of Oreos out of the cupboard to
eat on the way to work. He was wearing his new blue jeans and new black
t-shirt to celebrate over the Parks case. He climbed into the orange
LeSabre deciding that his first stop would be to the motor pool. There
must be a different vehicle available. 

 After that, he would clear any messages from his desk then head back to
Parks' neighborhood to look for the dog. He just wanted to see it close up
and prove to himself that it wasn't Diefenbaker. 

 The motor pool agreed to trade vehicles. They had a chocolate colored
Ford Pinto for him. He groused at them but accepted the change. Anything
was better than orange. 

 Ray headed upstairs. He checked with Elaine to see if there was anything
pressing going on. She handed him some notes sent up by the coroner
regarding Delfina's autopsy. Ray reviewed them but didn't see anything he
didn't already know. She was dead before they dumped her in the lake. The
official cause of death was a crushed skull but the extent of internal
injuries indicated she would probably have died anyway. 

 Ray set the file aside, anger rolling through him again at the
senselessness. Welsh interrupted with a bellow from his office. 

 The lieutenant wanted a complete rundown on the case against Parks. Brian
Griffith had been arrested during the night while attempting to rob a
convenience store. Unfortunately for him, four off duty police officers
occupied the store at the time. 

 Delfina Bradshaw never pointed to Brian Griffith as one of the two that
killed Eric. But with Mark's statement and the evidence found at the
house, they knew they could make a case against him on both murders. 

 After the lieutenant dismissed him, Ray decided to search for the dog. He
drove the Pinto to the Consulate and parked. Then he started walking. He
searched backyards and alleys for a couple of hours. Sweating from the
heat and berating himself for trying to accomplish the impossible, Ray
started back towards the Consulate. 

 A single familiar bark stopped him. A moment later it became frantic. Ray
followed the sound back down a narrow alley to a small fenced in yard. He
peered over the fence finding a metal storage shed. The barking and
whining and scratching came from in there. 

 Ray jumped the fence knowing that even if it wasn't Diefenbaker, there
was an animal in distress. He reached the door of the shed, amazed that
anyone would store a pet in there. In the intense heat, the dog would be
suffocating. Ray turned the metal handle, cursing when he burned his
fingers. Using the end of his t-shirt for protection, he opened the door.
A blast of heat combined with the odor of urine and feces gagged him. He
stumbled back, covering his mouth and nose with his hand. 

 "Hey, what're you doin' there?" Ray turned around to find the young man
he spotted the day before walking towards him. He was about the same
height as Kowalski with lean muscle outlined by his white undershirt. Add
in his bright blond hair and he looked like a surfer who moved too far
north. 

 "You the owner of this property?" Ray asked. 

 "Yeah, and you're trespassin'," the boy answered, posturing. 

 "This help?" Ray showed his badge. 

 The boy scowled as he checked his attitude. 

 "What do ya want? I ain't done nothin'." 

 "I want to see that dog. And I want to see his license." 

 "You gotta warrant?" 

 "I don't need a warrant, kid. I can hear that dog and it don't take
rocket science to know you can't keep an animal in a metal shed in the
middle of summer." 

 "Fuck, man, there's nothin' wrong with him. Come on, I'll show ya." 

 The boy walked into the shed, pressing a switch by the door and igniting
a portable spotlight above a small cage. Inside a gray and white wolf
slammed himself against the metal excitedly. Ray held his breath against
the smell of excrement and the urge to be ill. 

 "Dief," he said, putting his hand against the cage. The wolf nuzzled his
fingers and whined pitifully. "Oh my God, Dief, it is you." The wolf
licked at his fingers with a dry tongue. 

 Ray grabbed the boy by the shirt and slammed him into the side of the
shed. 

 "Get. Him. Out of there." 

 "Jeez, he ain't hurt. I don't leave him in there all the time. God. I
just...he's been tryin' to bite me. I was just showin' him who's in
charge, ya know." 

 "Where's his water?" 

 "I was gonna get it," the boy whined while he fumbled for his keys. He
handed them to Kowalski. "You want him so bad, you get him." 

 He walked out, shaking his head and muttering to himself. 

 Ray opened the padlock quickly, then pulled open the mesh door. The wolf
backed further into the cage. 

 "Come on, Dief, it's okay. Come on out. I'll take you to Fraser." He kept
his voice low and steady. It didn't occur to him until later that the tone
he used was meaningless to a deaf wolf. 

 Slowly, whimpering, the wolf came towards him. His tail hung low until he
reached Ray's outstretched hands. Then the tail rose with a slow wag. Ray
gave him his hands to smell before he hugged him. He sunk his fingers deep
in the fur, rubbing firmly and affectionately. 

 "That's right, Dief, I gotcha." 

 As the wolf started relaxing against his touch, Ray petted his head and
rubbed his ears until the odor in the shed forced them into the open. 

 "Let's go arrest that son of a bitch and we'll get you cleaned up." 

 When they left the shed, the boy was not outside. Ray figured he went
into the house. More concerned about Diefenbaker than the arrest, he
decided to come back later. Coiled against the shed, he found a hose. The
spigot was mounted near the fence. He turned it on, giving the wolf a long
drink before he wetted his fur to cool him down. 

 They walked back to the Consulate with the wolf growing more excited with
every step. He was already acting more like himself, throwing off the
timidity. He jumped against Ray's hip a couple of times, licking his hand,
then running a few steps forward and returning to lick his hand again. Ray
laughed at him, feeling like he saved the world. 

 The wolf ran the last block to the Consulate, leaving Ray far behind. He
scratched on the door, barking and whining until Turnbull answered. Ray
just saw the blur of red from Turnbull's uniform before the blur of gray
and white disappeared inside. 

 Jogging after Dief, Ray made it to the door a couple of minutes later. 

 "Is it really him, Detective?" Turnbull asked, nearly childlike in his
surprise. He was hugging the wolf, running strong hands over his sides and
back while Dief licked him. 

 "Yeah, unbelievable, huh? We gotta get him cleaned up, can you help me?" 

 "Yes of course, we'll use the bath down the hall here. But, how is this
possible?" 

 "I'll tell you what I know about it while we wash him, okay?" 

 "And what of Constable Fraser?" 

 "He doesn't know yet. I don't want Fraser to see him like this." 

 Part 29 

 When I wake, I am aware of only two things. First, I have virtually no
memory of anything after I opened our front door. Second, my head and body
hurt a great deal. Opening my eyes causes such a shaft of pain through my
skull that I almost lose consciousness again. I close my eyes, taking deep
breaths to calm myself, to keep the nausea at bay. 

 I decide that whatever has happened, it can't be too dire. I know I'm in
our bed. I can smell the slightly sweet, slightly bitter aroma of Annie in
the sheets and blankets. If I were seriously injured then I'd be in
hospital. I move my hand to touch my aching head and pain explodes from
wrist to elbow, much like the initial break a few weeks ago. 

 Again I fight to keep awake. 

 A soft whimpering enters my awareness. I'm afraid, at first, that it's
me. But I soon realize the sound comes from some point to the left of the
bed. I move slowly, just twisting my neck, turning my head enough to find
the source. When I have shifted as much as I can, I open my eyes again.
The light is still too bright but it's not so much a surprise now and I'm
able to look even if my vision is distorted. 

 I can see a small foot that leads to the edge of a blue bathrobe. Fear
hits me, bright and unexpected like lightening. Is she hurt? Has whatever
happened to me, happened to her? My head is pulsing with streams of pain
and I know I'm going to pass out. I try to say her name but there's no
sound as my barren lips move across dry teeth. 

 Part 30 

 Turnbull wrapped the wolf in a thick terry towel. He rubbed vigorously
while Diefenbaker tried to shake himself off. Ray had left the messy part
of the cleanup to him. 

 Both were surprised when a voice called from the lobby. 

 "I'll go," Ray said, when Turnbull started to rise. 

 "But, Detective, you know nothing about Canada." 

 "I can handle it, buddy, just finish up with the wolf, okay?" 

 Turnbull frowned as Ray left the bathroom. 

 Ray found a man standing beside a small boy, waiting in the lobby. The
man had dark, close-cropped hair, almost military short. He was about
Ray's height but probably weighed thirty pounds heavier. He was
broad-shouldered and muscular beneath his tailored suit. The boy looked
like a shorter, thinner version of the same person. 

 "Welcome to Canada," Ray said. 

 "Thank you. Would you tell Constable Frasier that John Claire and his
son, Scott are here to see him?" 

 "Claire? As in Annie Claire?" 

 "That's my mom," Scott said with a grin. 

 "Yes," Claire agreed. "And my wife. Is the Constable available?" 

 Ray hesitated at the news that Annie was married. He ran a hand through
his hair before he said, "He's not here. What do you want him for?" 

 "And that's your business because...?" 

 Ray recognized the tone. This man was used to getting what he wanted. He
was using manners but he probably never heard the word "no" before. 

 "He's my partner." 

 "Then you should know where he is." 

 "I do know. He took a couple days off." 

 Claire looked down at Scott with a frown. He looked back at Ray with the
same expression. 

 "Can you get a message to him?" 

 "Sure," Ray said, greedy for information. 

 "All right, then, is there a place we can talk?" 

 Claire sounded nervous and Ray took a closer look at him. Once he got
past the expensive clothes, he could see the man was barely functioning.
From his pale complexion to his blood-shot eyes, the man practically
screamed nervous breakdown. 

 "Maybe Scott should wait here," Ray said, looking down at the boy.
"There's a big, Canadian Mountie down the hall there, third door on the
left. He's in there giving my buddy's dog a bath. You wanna head down
there? Give him a hand, maybe?" Scott turned round blue eyes to his father
and John Claire smiled at him. 

 "Go ahead, Scottie. Just try not to get too wet, all right?" 

 The boy agreed readily and ran down the hall. Ray led the father into
Fraser's office. 

 Once inside, with the door closed, Ray planted himself on the edge of
Fraser's desk. He pointed to the chair opposite him and Claire sat down. 

 "I met Constable Frasier yesterday at Annie's house," he began. 

 Ray didn't encourage him or comment but he must have sensed the tension
because Claire rushed to explain. 

 "Annie and I have been separated for a couple of years now. We're just
getting the final papers on our divorce so this isn't about her liaison
with the Constable." 

 "Then what is it about?" 

 "Do you have jurisdiction in the states?" 

 "Yeah. I'm from here. I'm a detective out of the 27th District Station." 

 "You said you were his partner," Claire said, standing up. "If you're
investigating something then maybe I should speak with Constable Frasier
personally." 

 "It's okay, it's okay, you can talk to me. We're unofficial partners but
we do work together. I'll keep this off the record for now and if we need
to make it official later, we can discuss it, okay?" 

 "This is difficult," Claire said, slowly sinking back into the chair. He
was as close to squirming as Ray suspected he ever got. "The divorce isn't
friendly by any stretch of the imagination. She wants custody of Scott and
I won't give it to her. She said she'd changed but....well, that's just
not the case." 

 "You're gonna have to fill in the blanks, Mr. Claire." 

 "All right." He leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him.
"Annie has a volatile temper. When she's upset, she can
be...difficult...violent. She's attacked me more than once." 

 "Attacked in what way?" Ray asked as a cold chill ran down his back. 

 "The details aren't important. Suffice to say that I have a scar that
runs from my chest to my abdomen because Annie can't control her temper.
She very nearly killed me. My parents stole Scott from his school and took
him to their home in Missouri while I was hospitalized because we were too
afraid to leave him with her. I filed papers and took him to Ohio after
that. Annie is too unstable to be allowed near him." 

 "Then why didn't you press charges? Stabbing someone is a crime." 

 "Whatever else she is, Detective, she's my wife, the mother of my son. I
couldn't very well put her in prison. And she didn't stab me she pushed me
through the plate glass of our patio door." 

 "It's still a crime. But, I guess it wouldn't look too good on the social
register if your wife got arrested, would it?" 

 "No, it wouldn't," Claire answered, evenly. "At any rate, she said she
got counseling last year and I let her come to see Scott. He missed her
and I didn't feel right keeping them apart. The visit lasted 12 days
before she was begging me for joint custody. But it wasn't enough time to
be sure that she was fit to raise him or even be left alone with him so I
refused to give in. When she discovered I also have a fiancee...well, she
went crazy. She nearly destroyed my parents' family room. The police had
to take her out of the house." 

 Claire stood up. He put his hands in his pockets and paced a few steps in
front of the desk before he stopped by the file cabinet. Ray watched him
with a scared feeling in his stomach. 

 "I visited Annie yesterday. We were talking about the divorce when
Constable Frasier came in. I don't know him but I have to say he didn't
look good. He was pale and sweating and I could see a bruise on his face.
When Annie introduced us she said that I was threatening to keep Scott
from her, threatening to destroy her business if she didn't give up
custody. Up until he came in, we'd been having a fairly normal
conversation. We talked about the divorce and about her going back into
counseling but I didn't threaten her. The Constable did ask me to leave
but she was crying and carrying on so he didn't have much choice. He was
civil about it which is, I guess, part of the reason I came here." 

 "Why?" Ray asked. 

 "Because he should know that she's dangerous if he hasn't realized that
already and because she'll get worse. And I'm concerned that with his
police background he'll make a credible witness for Annie. I want to make
sure he knows all the facts before he sides with her in the custody suit."


 "Fraser's a good guy, Mr. Claire. He wouldn't put a child in danger. Do
you have a card with you?" 

 Claire pulled a narrow holder from inside his jacket pocket. He handed
the card to Ray. 

 "This is your business number. Are you staying at a hotel in town?" Ray
asked. 

 "Oh, yes," he reached out for the card and Ray handed it back. Claire
pulled a pen out of his inside pocket and wrote on the back. 

 "I don't have the number of the hotel but that's the place and the room
number." 

 "I'll talk to Fraser and one of us will give you a call," Ray assured him
as he took the card back again. 

 With a thank you Claire sought out his son. Scott left Diefenbaker
reluctantly with a hug then he shook Turnbull's hand. 

 Once they were gone, Ray took an appraising look at Dief finding him
clean, fluffy, vibrant and smelling vaguely like strawberry shampoo. He
barked at Ray excitedly then jumped at the door. 

 "Yeah, I know, Dief. Hey, Turnbull, you did a great job. Thanks a lot.
You wanna come with me to show Fraser?" 

 "I'm on duty, Detective. I can not leave the Consulate." 

 "You sure?" Ray asked, wanting to include him. 

 "Yes, but thank you kindly for the offer." 

 Ray shook Turnbull's hand impulsively then opened the door for the wolf
to escape. Diefenbaker darted around the sidewalk frantically waiting for
direction. As soon as Ray opened the passenger side door of the Pinto, he
leaped in with an excited whine. 

 Part 31 

 I believe a full day has passed since my first wakening but I am drifting
between the dark and light. It's difficult to stay awake for even short
periods though gradually some of the events of the previous day have
returned to my memory. 

 When I walked into our house I found that Annie's husband was there.
Annie started to cry immediately, coming to me and burrowing her face into
my chest. She told me that he had been threatening her, trying to bully
her into giving up custody of her son. John Claire just shook his head as
if he was resigned to her words. He denied them but only mildly as if the
argument was not worth his effort. 

 I asked him to leave. I wasn't angry, just uncertain, and it seemed best.


 As soon as he left, Annie started berating me for being polite to him. I
remember thinking that she must have wanted me to invite him outside and
fight him. I thought the idea ludicrous and told her so and she grew
angrier, more insulting. 

 Ray's warnings came back to me then along with a sudden reawakening in
myself. Her ranting, her cruelty became my sole focus and I couldn't
remember why I was there. I couldn't feel anything for her except for an
empty confusion. The longer she railed at me, the less clear I became. The
raging woman before me was not the person I love. 

 This is where my memory becomes disjointed. I recall going into the
bedroom with Annie following me, still screaming at me. I felt nauseous
and dizzy. 

 There are flashes in my brain of her face, horribly twisted by her fury,
intermingled with a sudden intense pain in my skull. 

 And now there's only blackness and ache and heat. 

 My brain feels as if it's burning up at the stem and I'm damp with sweat.
I am still lying on our bed but my body won't obey me. Efforts to move
only result in losing consciousness. Annie hovers nearby, sobbing or
hiccuping through her tears. Both sounds are too loud for my brain. 

 At some point during the night I remember that she lay beside me. She
rested partly on top of me as she does after we make love. Instead of
comfort, the affection only hurts my aching body and makes me feel hotter
than before. 

 In the morning she has stopped crying. She starts with apologies but her
remorse gives way to irritation. Apparently she believes I am being lazy
and childish. She says I am like all men and need to be babied when I'm
sick but I understand little of this. My overheated brain can't make sense
of her words. It's not that I don't understand as if she's speaking a
different language; I just don't understand how her words apply to me. I
have never been seriously ill, only seriously injured on occasion and on
those occasions my only thought is to get well so I can work. 

 She sits beside me on the bed and brushes soft fingers through my hair. I
don't dare open my eyes as I can't face the blinding pain again. 

 "Please help me, Annie," I manage to say but she only continues stroking
my hair. "I need a doctor." I say the last with all the conviction I can
manage. I don't doubt for a moment that I'm telling the truth. 

 Annie jumps away as if I've burned her. "God, you aren't dying," she
shrieks. If I had the strength to shrink from the sound I would. "Don't be
so dramatic." The bedroom door slams behind her. 

 I let sleep take me again but my dreams are too vivid. I jerk awake in
gasps from visions of falling. But even that unpleasantness is better than
hearing Annie's hysterical voice. 

 Finally I do sleep more peacefully and I don't wake again for a long
time. My dreams are different now. They're still vivid, but there's
comfort in them. Ray Vecchio comes to me and he calls me "Benny" and he
tells me he'll keep in touch. He promises that he hasn't gone forever with
tears in his eyes and I want to cry too. I miss him terribly but somehow I
feel better at seeing him this way. 

 My father makes a visit as well. I don't know if this is a dream. He
stands over me, wearing his red Serge and reminding me of how I looked up
to him when I was a child. I would have given my life to be like him. I
would have given it just for him to like me. 

 "I always liked you, son," he says. "And I love you, you know that. We're
men, we just don't talk about it." 

 Diefenbaker pays a visit as well. There is such joy in me at seeing him.
Even as he whines his disapproval that I will not rise, I'm happy to see
him. He is licking my hand, rubbing his soft fur against my arm and
nuzzling my face with a cool nose and a warm tongue. 

 Ray Kowalski appears above both of us. He looks frightened and I don't
know why but he's pulling Dief away. I want to tell him not to but my
voice is silent and soon the blackness pulls me down again taking the
dreams with it. 

 Part 32 

 Ray pulled up in front of Annie's house. Dief nudged him and barked when
he hesitated to get out. 

 "I know, Dief. He's in there. You know too, don't you?" Ray petted him,
then opened the car door. The wolf practically knocked him over to get
out. 

 He made up his mind that whatever Fraser decided regarding Annie, he had
to live with it. He couldn't respect a decision to stay with her but he
could respect Fraser enough to let him make his own choices. Besides with
Diefenbaker back, Fraser would have on the scene protection all the time. 

 He gave the wolf a fond grin as he rang the doorbell. 

 A moment later when Annie answered, she opened the door only as far as
the chain lock would allow. She looked down at Dief and frowned. She
looked terrible with dark circles under her eyes and a swollen face lined
with tear tracks. 

 "Bringing him a new dog is a little insensitive, isn't it Ray?" 

 "It's not a new dog, Annie. This is Diefenbaker." 

 "You said he was dead." 

 "I was wrong," Ray answered, starting to get angry. 

 "You're trying to make him leave me, aren't you? You think this dog will
fool him? Or me?" 

 "Look, this is Dief. He'll know it as soon as he sees him. Just let us in
or call him out here." 

 "He's sleeping." 

 "And you don't think this is important enough to wake him?" Ray passed
annoyed to worried. "Open the damn door or I'll open it for ya." 

 "He's not feeling well, I don't want to wake him." 

 "Fraser doesn't get sick." 

 "He does today," she replied and Ray shoved the door back at her. Fraser
would have to understand. 

 The chain broke and she stumbled over her blue robe. Diefenbaker charged
inside, sniffing from one room to the next before he disappeared into the
bedroom. Ray heard him whining furiously so he ignored Annie's protests as
he followed the wolf. 

 "Oh, shit," he muttered, seeing his friend. 

 Fraser was white pale, sweat oozing from his face and neck. He was
mumbling softly, twisting painfully in the sheets. Ray pulled Dief away
but the wolf ignored him and went to the other side of the bed to jump up.
He lay down beside his alpha, licking the exposed arm. 

 "What did she do, buddy?' Ray felt his head and face finding Fraser much
too hot. 

 "I didn't do anything. He has the flu," Annie said walking towards the
bed. 

 "Call 911." 

 "It's the flu, Ray, he just needs to rest." Ray grabbed her wrist. He
knew he was hurting her as she tried unsuccessfully to twist away. 

 "He's on fire. Call 911." He shoved her backwards. 

 Returning to Fraser, he noticed the wolf still busily stroking his arm
with his tongue. It took a moment for Ray to realize that the wrist brace
had been removed. Fraser's wrist and hand were grotesquely swollen. He
heard Annie hang up after asking for the EMT's. This time when she came
back in, she hovered by the door. 

 "You call this nothing?" Ray asked, pointing at the arm. 

 "He fell on it when he fainted. I didn't do anything to him." 

 "Get out of here." When she hesitated, he stood up to make a move towards
her. He couldn't stand having her near either of them. 

 "I need clothes," she said. 

 She went to the closet and pulled some things out then she went back to
the living room, shutting the door behind her. 

 A quick look around showed Ray where the bathroom was. Another random
search through some drawers netted him a washcloth. He wetted the cloth
with cool water and started using it against Fraser's face. Fraser moaned,
moving away from the cold, but Ray was relentless. Periodically he rinsed
the cloth, disturbed by how quickly Fraser's body warmed it. 

 He heard the doorbell and went into the livingroom to make sure Annie
wasn't trying to keep the paramedics out. Ray brought them back to the
bedroom. 

 He called Dief to stay beside him while the paramedics checked Fraser
out. The one thing they said that Ray understood was that his partner's
temperature was 104.7. They completed their examination and advised Ray
and Annie that he should be taken to the hospital. 

 "I'll ride with him," Annie said, desperation tingeing her voice. 

 "Like hell." 

 "You have to take the wolf and I don't want him to be alone." 

 Ray considered that and he had to agree. He didn't want Fraser to wake up
in an ambulance with no one familiar. 

 "I'm on his emergency card," he told the paramedics. "She has no say in
what you do for him, you got it?" 

 "Yes, Sir," the younger of the two answered. 

 Diefenbaker left his companion reluctantly and Ray wished he didn't have
to separate them again. 

 Ray reached the hospital in time to watch Fraser being whisked away
inside the emergency doors with Annie by his side. In the time it took to
convince a nurse that Diefenbaker could enter the hospital, Fraser was
already through the treatment area doors and Annie was standing on the
other side, rubbing her arms. 

 Ray tapped Annie on the arm and motioned for her to follow him into the
waiting room. She looked reluctant but she did go with him. He led her to
the farthest corner, wanting some privacy from the few strangers who were
waiting as well. Diefenbaker obviously sensed the tension as he stood
stiffly beside Ray. 

 "Let's keep this official. My name is Detective Ray Vecchio and I wanna
know what happened to Constable Fraser." 

 "Are you going to arrest me?" Annie asked. 

 "Depends on what you tell me right now." He saw the fear in her eyes
before she blinked it away. When she started talking, her voice was a
monotone. 

 "He came back from meeting you. He was sweating and he didn't look well
but I know the heat's hard on him so I didn't think that much about it.
That is until he fainted." 

 "Why'd he faint?" 

 "From the heat, I suppose. He walked back from that diner, you know.
After he met with you." When Ray didn't react to her dig, she shrugged,
"Maybe he was sick." 

 "Maybe? Did you see him?" Ray yelled, earning him a cautionary glare from
the nurses' station. 

 "Fine. He's sick. You think this is easy for me?" 

 "Just get on with it," Ray answered through gritted teeth. 

 "He passed out, okay, but he woke up right away and I put him to bed.
I've been looking after him since. It's just the flu, Ray." 

 "You didn't slap him this time? Throw a punch? Throw a lamp or a toaster?
Something else, maybe?" 

 "I have a bad temper. You obviously know that. And we've had a couple
fights. But not yesterday and not today." 

 Ray studied her face, looking for some sign of the lie but she didn't
flinch. Diefenbaker growled softly though and that was almost enough for
an arrest as far as Ray was concerned. 

 "What happened to his wrist? Where's the brace?" 

 "He landed on his arm when he fell. I took the brace off to see if he
hurt himself and it swelled up right away. I couldn't put the brace back
on with all that swelling." 

 "You didn't think he needed an x-ray, a doctor, something." 

 "No, I didn't. His wrist is almost healed. I thought the swelling would
go down on its own." 

 "No. You thought if he went to the hospital they'd see what you did to
him and they'd call the cops." 

 "That's ridiculous. He's a grown man and a police officer. No one is
going to look at me and think I hurt him." 

 "Then why, Annie? Why let him suffer like that?" Ray asked, trying to
understand. 

 "Oh, God." She sighed. "You really are a piece of work, Ray. I love him;
I would never let him suffer if I could stop it. I used ice for the
swelling and I took care of him the best I could. He has the flu, not
Polio, for God's Sake." 

 "A hundred and five, Annie. His temperature is practically one, oh, five.
You give him anything? Try to take down the fever?" She shook her head,
slowly. Her eyes filmed over looking dazed and glassy. 

 "No. He...He doesn't take anything. He told me before, he doesn't take
non-prescription..." 

 "What the fuck is wrong with you? He could've died even if you didn't do
anything to him and I don't believe that for a second." 

 "Okay, maybe I should've taken him to the hospital but I didn't hurt him.
It's just...it's a lot. Everything...it's a lot right now." 

 Ray wanted to shake her, scream at her for being so completely
self-absorbed. He walked away instead, wishing he could pound a wall or a
punching bag. 

 It took another hour of waiting before a doctor came out to speak with
them. 

 Ray stood up at the physician's approach with Annie following from the
opposite side of the waiting room. 

 "How is he?" Ray asked. 

 "Constable Fraser has a pretty severe case of the flu. His cell counts
are low. And he's dehydrated. We're treating him intravenously with
antibiotics and fluids and we're using Tylenol for the fever and body
aches. As for his wrist, it's been re-broken. We've put a plaster cast on
this time." 

 "Can I see him?" Annie asked, hopefully. 

 "No, you can't," Ray answered. He looked at the doctor. "Until he wakes
up, I make the decisions, right?" 

 "You are listed as his next of kin," the doctor confirmed 

 "No one goes in to see him unless I say. And she is definitely not
approved." 

 "You're being childish. He'll want to see me." 

 "I don't care. You stay away. You wanna know about him, call the station
and ask for me." 

 "Ray..." 

 "You are not getting near him." 

 "He'll hate you for keeping me away." 

 "At least he'll be alive to. You almost cost him that." 

 "Excuse me," the doctor interrupted. "But Constable Fraser also has a
mild concussion. There's a substantial bump on the back of his head. And
there's quite a bit of bruising." 

 "He fainted," Annie said. 

 "The bruises are not consistent with a fall and I'd say they're at least
a couple of days old. The bump looks more recent." 

 "You're under arrest," Ray said, pulling his handcuffs out. 

 Annie just stared at him, immobile with shock. Her eyes filled with tears
and he could feel her trembling as he cuffed her. Ray quoted her rights to
her, then asked the doctor to phone the police. She didn't fight him, just
sank weakly into the nearest chair. Diefenbaker planted himself directly
in front of her, giving her a low growl for warning. 

 Part 33 

 Fraser slept through the rest of the day and night. After a patrol took
Annie for booking, Ray checked on him, reassuring himself that he was all
right. He phoned Francesca, told her the news about Dief and about
Fraser's illness. She was suitably shocked, then worried, then agreeable
to picking up the wolf and taking him home with her. 

 After Frannie took Dief, Ray returned to Fraser's cubicle where he stayed
until the nurse kicked him out so they could move him into a private room.
Once they had Fraser settled again, he visited one more time before going
to the station to complete the paperwork on Annie's arrest. 

 The next morning, Ray slept in an extra hour. Just as he was pulling into
the hospital parking lot, Welsh called to tell him that Annie had been
released on bail. He wasn't surprised though he would have liked to see
her spend more time behind bars. 

 He shut off his cell phone and waved at Frannie as she parked a few
aisles away. She gave him a double thumbs-up as Dief jumped out beside
her. 

 He was grinning when he stepped into the elevator. But it didn't last as
he anticipated telling Fraser about Annie's arrest. He could only hope
that Fraser didn't toss him out and end their partnership on the spot. 

 He forced a cheerful smile and went in. 

 "Morning, buddy. How are you feeling?" he asked. 

 "Better, I think," Fraser answered and he did look better. Not well but
the flush of fever was gone and his eyes were clear. 

 "I don't recall much of yesterday," he said. 

 "Yeah, well you were pretty sick." 

 "I don't get sick, Ray." 

 "Guess you do now. You were probably run down some." 

 "I suppose I must have been. It's the only explanation." 

 Fraser stared down at his entwining fingers for a moment. When he looked
up, Ray felt the stab of pain coming from his eyes. 

 "Has she been here?" he asked. 

 "She came to the hospital with you. Rode in the ambulance." 

 "And she left." His voice registered a sad resignation to the fact. 

 Ray took a breath before he answered. 

 "I arrested her. She got out on bail a little while ago." 

 Fraser sat up straighter. "Why did you do that, Ray?" 

 "Because she almost killed you," he answered more vehemently than he
intended. 

 Fraser rubbed at his eyebrow turning away for a moment to look out the
window. Apparently he didn't see anything there of interest. 

 After a moment of empty silence, he asked, "Why did you come to the
house?" 

 "I, uh, I gotta surprise for you," Ray answered, feeling a surge of
anticipation at telling him. "It's outside though so we gotta get a
wheelchair. I came by to give it to you." 

 "A surprise? I'm not sure I'm up to many more of those, Ray." 

 "This is a good one, Fraser. Just let me call the nurse, okay? We'll go
out." 

 Fraser looked at him doubtfully and Ray thought he might refuse. After
all, he did just discover that his partner arrested his girlfriend. Ray
could hardly blame him if he didn't want to accept anything from him. 

 "All right," he agreed, carefully. 

 Ray sighed, feeling as if a hurdle had been cleared. He disappeared out
the door for a few moments. When he returned he was pushing an empty
wheelchair. 

 It took some maneuvering and strategic planning but soon Ben sat in the
wheelchair with an IV pole by his side. While Ray pushed him towards the
elevator, Ben tried to guess at the surprise. He feared it would be a
replacement for Diefenbaker. Had Ray managed to track down another
half-wolf? Would he find a turtle in a bowl? a cat? a Chihuahua? He didn't
want any of those things. He couldn't even think of having a pet.
Diefenbaker was his companion and his friend. One did not replace friends
with something new. Ben wondered how he could reject this pet, whatever it
was, and not hurt Ray's feelings. 

 He deliberately stayed away from thinking about Annie. He felt disloyal
for not being more upset by her arrest. He knew he should feel something,
anger, relief, something but there was a void inside that seemed to be
sucking all of his emotions inside of it. 

 Once they reached outdoors, the first thing Ben noticed was the outfit
Francesca Vecchio wore. Skin-tight, bright red and leaving little more
covered than a bathing suit. The next thing he noticed was a blur of gray
and white bounding towards him. A moment before he would have a lap full
of wolf, Diefenbaker stopped in his tracks, lied on his back and lifted
his head. 

 Man and wolf stared at each other warily. Ben's eyes burned as his heart
rapped painfully against his chest. Dief showed his submission to the
alpha, asking for admittance back to the pack. 

 Ben reached forward slowly burying his good hand in the soft fur and
noticing the aroma of strawberry shampoo. Dief rose, nudging into the
hand, then laying his head on Ben's lap with a whine. Ben stroked him
firmly, afraid to stop looking at him. If he turned too quickly, would he
wake up? 

 "S'okay, Fraser. He's not a dream," Ray said, gripping his shoulder in a
light embrace. 

 Ben did look up then, questions dancing in his eyes. 

 "I don't know much. I found him locked up a couple of blocks from the
Consulate. I guess he got dognapped or something and he couldn't get back
on his own." 

 "But you saw him at the doctor's office. And they said the animal they
had was...." 

 "I know, who would've figured there'd be two gray half-wolves in Chicago.
It don't matter though as long as we got ours back." 

 "And the person that took him?" 

 "I haven't been back to check on him yet. A few other things came up." 

 Ben looked back down at Diefenbaker. The wolf, apparently feeling he had
won his place back in the pack, circled the chair happily with a bark. 

 Francesca laughed. "Isn't it great, Frase?" 

 He couldn't find a voice to answer, so he went back to watching his
miracle chase happily between the three of them. 

 "We gotta head back up, Fraser." Ray said after a few minutes. 

 "No...I can't leave him here." 

 Panic gripped him and though he knew it was illogical, he wasn't able to
stop it. 

 Ray walked around to the front of the chair and knelt down. 

 "He's staying with Frannie. He'll be okay until you get outta here. I'd
bring him up with us but she's gonna take him to the vet and get him
checked out. He's okay but we just wanna make sure." 

 Ben searched his face for a moment. He tugged at his ear as he looked
again to find Dief sitting beside his chair. 

 "Yes, of course. I'm being silly." 

 "S'okay, Frase. He missed you too." 

 It took another five minutes to say good-bye even though the separation
would only last a few hours. Ben loathed allowing Diefenbaker out of his
sight and the wolf agreed. Francesca had to promise a doughnut to pry the
wolf away from his side. 

 Part 34 

 Back in Ben's room, Ray helped him settle into bed. Ben closed his
stinging eyes, then opened them slowly, still worried that he would wake
from a dream. 

 His body felt weak and heavy. His limbs ached with his head pounding
dully inside his skull and his stomach refused to sit quietly. Even his
skin hurt. 

 "I believe I really am ill, Ray," Ben said, surprise in his voice. 

 "Ya think?" 

 "I've never actually been sick like this before. I skipped all of the
usual childhood illnesses. Pink eye and an inner ear infection are the
most serious ailments I've ever experienced." 

 "Really? I spent most of my childhood fighting off one thing or another."


 "I'm not delirious, am I. This is real? You? Diefenbaker?" 

 "You think you could conjure up that outfit Frannie was wearing?" Ray
asked. 

 Ben chuckled. "I suppose not." 

 "It's all real. When you're better, we'll go roust that kid who had Dief
and we'll found out how he got him." 

 "I don't know how to thank you for finding him," Ben said seriously. 

 "No need. I missed him too." 

 "But, still, Ray..." 

 "I mean it. There's no need to thank me." 

 "Thank you kindly," Ben said. 

 "But you can't help it," Ray muttered to himself. 

 Ben closed his eyes, feeling exhausted and surprised by his lack of
stamina. He hadn't felt this weak since the last time he was shot. But,
even that was different than this...this being sick. All in all he didn't
care for it. 

 "About Annie," Ray began. 

 "No, I...not yet. I'm not angry but I can't talk about her yet." 

 "Fair enough. Why don't you get some sleep and maybe they'll let you out
of here." 

 Ben followed directions. When he woke again, Ray was gone and Annie sat
in his place. 

 Part 35 

 She is here when I open my eyes. Dressed in a pink skirt cut above the
knee with a white top, she is also wearing the bracelet I gave her. She
looks calm but tired or more than that, drained of life. 

 "Hello, Ben," she says too brightly. "How do you feel?" 

 "Better, thank you," I answer as I push myself up to sit. 

 "I'm sorry I wasn't here before. Your partner decided to arrest me." 

 I don't respond except to look away from her. 

 "Did you hear me?" 

 "I know. Ray was here earlier." 

 She is confused by my lack of a more vehement response. Her eyes brighten
with a feral glint and I find myself gripping the sheet at my side. 

 "Well, we can sort that out later," she allows but her voice is hard.
"You can imagine I'm not too happy with him but the main thing is for you
to get well. Have they said when you can come home?" 

 "The doctor will likely release me later this afternoon if my temperature
stays down." 

 "That soon? You'll have to stay in bed then so you can get your strength
back. I've already stocked up on soup and crackers and things." 

 "Annie, I...." 

 Tears spring into her eyes as she holds both of her hands up. 

 "Don't say it. Please don't say it." 

 "I'm not coming home with you." 

 "I don't understand. Why? People fight, Ben. Couples fight. You don't
just walk away because of an argument." 

 "We have more problems than arguments, Annie." 

 "I've told you it's just stress. Why don't you believe me?" 

 "I remember coming home, Annie. I remember the argument and I remember
the telephone. Did it break apart like the last one?" I can still see the
phone in her hand as I turned away from her and feel the sudden impact
against my skull followed by a jolt of pain that was only usurped by my
broken wrist connecting with the floor. 

 My words stop her but only for a moment. 

 "You shouldn't have threatened to leave like that. You know I can't stand
the idea of you leaving me." 

 "You have to get help, Annie. I'll talk to the prosecutor. I'll try to
keep you out of jail but you have to agree to get counseling." 

 "You're actually going to sign the complaint against me?" 

 "It's the only way I can help you." 

 "You said you loved me," she accuses. 

 "I do." I answer with as much conviction as I can. It's the truth. 

 "Then how can you do this? How can you leave me?" 

 I don't know how to answer that so I look away from her, gathering my
strength. I am very skilled in hardening myself when necessary. I can be
as cold as the ice that made up my home. I turned glacial when I handed
Victoria over for official processing and I must do that now. So I ignore
the tightness and pain in my chest, ignore my mind's incessant
rationalizing, ignore the stricken eyes that are staring at me. 

 "It's for the best," I answer simply, glad for the strength in my voice. 

 "Whose? I can change, Ben. You could help me. After the divorce, after I
get to see Scott, I'll be better, I swear it." 

 "No you won't. It'll always be something. I can't give you what you need
and that's someone to help you with the rage that you feel. Someone to..."


 "I'm not crazy," she interrupts and this time her voice is desperate. 

 "No, you're not. You're sad and angry and afraid. I understand Annie, I
do, more than I can ever tell you." 

 "Don't tell me how I feel," she snaps. 

 I take a breath. I don't want to fear her but there is still that part of
me that is waiting for her to lose control again. 

 "When everyone you depend on seems to abandon you, it's terribly easy to
want whoever seems to want you back. Even if it's not the right thing." 

 "That's all this has been for you? Just some filler because your dog
died?" 

 This time I close my eyes. Her words hurt and I know that was her
intention. 

 "I'll pick up my things in a day or so, after I get out of here," I say. 

 "You're really doing this?" Her voice is small and unbelieving. 

 "Yes," I answer with a satisfaction that surprises me. I don't know that
I have ever been the one leaving before. It feels good to take the active
role. 

 "Please Ben, I don't want to be alone anymore." Her tears are falling
freely now. In the past few days, how many times have I seen her this way?


 "I know. But I have to go." 

 "Fine. I'll do what you want. I still have my son to think of even if he
doesn't interest you." She reaches the door before she turns around again.
I automatically glance around her to see if there's anything nearby that
she might hurl in my direction. There isn't and her voice is very soft
when she says, "I would have loved you forever." 

 She goes through the door and around the corner and out of view. 

 Part 36 

 It is nearly forty-eight hours later before my emotions catch up with me.


 At Ray Kowalski's insistence, I moved in to his apartment when I left the
hospital. The doctor said I should have someone to look after me for a few
days. It felt uncomfortable at first, like I was intruding. But he's been
gracious and I've been sleeping as often as not. 

 My illness has apparently decided to seek out more fertile ground as I'm
feeling stronger now than I have in days. The aches of the flu are
lessening and my fever broke during the night. The minor injuries from my
last days with Annie are healing. And other than a general sense of
melancholy, I am feeling better. 

 Ray stopped by the Consulate to retrieve my mail on his way home
bringing, among other things, a letter from Jackie Alexander. She is the
owner of Maggie, Diefenbaker's one-time female companion, and mother to
his litter of pups. 

 "Hmm," I say as I read. 

 "What?" Ray calls from the kitchen, where he is pulling bowls out of the
dishwasher. 

 "It seems that one of Diefenbaker's offspring went missing a few weeks
ago. Ms. Alexander has attempted to keep track of each of the puppies
since she gave them away. It was the gray and white male." 

 "You think that was the one I saw at the vet's office?" 

 "I think it's likely. A gray and white wolf mix can't be common in
Chicago." 

 "I guess you better call and tell her." 

 "Yes, I will." 

 "Speaking of that, I went back to the house where I found Dief. The kid
who lived there was gone. I'm tracing him though. He bailed out still
owing a couple months rent. Should've busted him on the spot." 

 "I'm sure you'll find him, Ray. And we have Diefenbaker back, that's the
important thing." Dief nuzzles my hand coincidentally at the mention of
his name. 

 We are sitting in Ray's livingroom. He has warmed some gnoccis that he
picked up at an Italian restaurant on his way home from work. We are both
eating from pyrex bowls though I suspect he would have eaten out of the
container if he were alone. A club soda sits on the coffee table for me.
He is drinking beer. I'm balancing the bowl on my lap trying to keep my
clumsy, casted hand from making a mess. Diefenbaker is lying on the floor
at my feet eyeing Ray's food. 

 The phone rings and Ray curses. These two things always happen together
as it is never a good time for Ray to have the phone ring. He growls a
hello then his face gets serious and frozen. He puts a hand over the
receiver before he looks at me. 

 "It's Annie." 

 My stomach tightens at the mention of her name but I keep my face placid.


 "May I take it in the bedroom?" 

 "Yeah, of course. Go ahead." I set my bowl on the coffee table, giving
Ray a wary glance. Diefenbaker whines at the interruption. 

 I stand up slowly since I feel better but not good yet. I am dressed in
some clothes that Ray purchased for me since most of my belongings are
still at Annie's. The white t-shirt is untucked over a pair of jeans. I
know I'm being sloppy with my appearance but I simply don't have the
energy for neatness. Being ill is a strange, depressing affair, much like
the phone call I'm taking. 

 Once I've settled in Ray's bedroom I lift the receiver and thank Ray.
Annie and I wait until the second line clicks off. 

 "Hello, Ben." 

 "Hello. How are you?" 

 "Terrible," she admits with a timid laugh. "The divorce hearing is
tomorrow. My lawyer says that I have no chance of winning custody. His
lawyer already subpoenaed the arrest record from last week. Even though I
pleaded guilty and signed up for counseling, he doesn't think he can even
get supervised visitation for at least a year. Apparently John kept
records of our fights as well. He even has some depositions from
witnesses." 

 I don't respond since truthfully, I'm relieved. In my opinion, she is too
unstable to raise a child. 

 "You could testify for me," she says after a hesitation. 

 "Testify?" I ask, not certain I heard her correctly. 

 "You lived with me for several weeks, Ben. You could tell them about me.
Make them see that I'm not crazy, that I'm not a monster." 

 I swallow hard. "No, Annie." 

 "Why not?" The desperation in her voice makes my stomach clench. The food
I have just eaten is curdling in my stomach. 

 "Perhaps after you've spent some time in counseling the judge will
reconsider." 

 "You think I'm dangerous to my own son?" 

 "He's safe with his father for now." 

 There is a long silence between us. Finally, her voice comes back in a
monotone. "Get your shit out of my house or I'll burn it." 

 "All right," I answer calmly, not at all certain that I'm physically able
to accomplish that. I almost hang up when she speaks again. 

 "God, I just needed one stable thing in my life. You were my last hope,
Ben. I'll lose him because of you. You're fucking useless." 

 She hangs up and I feel petty for wishing I had done so first. 

 I sit there on Ray's bed feeling stunned. I need to remember what she was
like when I met her. I need to reassure myself that I didn't imagine her.
But nothing good comes to my brain. All I can see is her hate-filled face
screaming in my ear while her fists batter me. Her voice is a screeching
mess inside my head. 

 I am shaking when Ray opens the bedroom door a crack and peers in at me.
He's trying not to invade my privacy. When he sees that I'm still holding
the phone but it is in my lap, he comes in. He takes the receiver out of
my hand and replaces it on the cradle. 

 "It's all right, Fraser. Whatever she said doesn't matter." 

 "I have to go there." 

 "You gotta be kidding." He is suddenly furious and I realize he
misunderstands. 

 "To retrieve my belongings. She wants me to move my things tonight." He
subsides immediately. 

 "You're still sick. She'll have to wait." 

 "She says she'll burn everything." 

 "Oh, that's real nice," he says, sarcastically. "All right. You stay
here. I'll go." 

 "I can't ask you to do that." 

 "You don't have a car, Fraser and you're not asking, I'm saying I'll do
it. Just stay here and eat your dinner." 

 "This is my problem, Ray." 

 "No it's not. We're partners so it's my problem too. If it were Stella,
you'd go for me, right?" 

 "Yes of course, if that's what you wanted, but..." 

 "I'll be right back." Ray pats my shoulder then he pats Diefenbaker's
head which has found its way into my lap. 

 As soon as the front door closes, I am overcome. It feels like a tidal
wave sweeping through my body. The sobs come out before I can stop them
and soon I am dissolved. I lie back on Ray's bed, drawing my knees to my
chest and tucking my elbows against my stomach. 

 In my mind I can hear my grandparent's disapproval. I can hear my father
telling me to stop acting like a child. Victoria tells me that I deserve
it. And Annie tells me I'm useless. It's a bizarre opera of contempt. I
just rock myself while Dief curls at my back until sleep finally comes
like the safe arms of my mother, comforting me into a dreamless slumber. 

 It must be several hours later when Ray wakes me. He is covering me with
a blanket rather than moving me out of his bed and on to the pull-out
couch in the living room. My throat is sore and I feel sick. I roll over
and look at him, trying to focus through swollen, sleepy eyes. 

 "How did it go?" I ask, trying to sit up so he can have his bed. 

 "No problem. I got everything." He sits near me, dragging one of the
pillows on to his lap. 

 "How was she?" 

 "Not happy to see me." 

 "I'm sorry." 

 "Don't worry about it, Fraser. How are you doing?" 

 I evade answering him, apologizing instead. "I'm sorry I fell asleep
here." 

 He shrugs. "Don't matter. You can stay if you want. I've slept on the
couch plenty of times." 

 "No, thank you, but I'll go. I know I've been a bother with this
ridiculous illness. I'll be moving out as soon as I can." 

 "Nobody's pushing, Fraser." 

 "You've been very kind." 

 "You can quit that formal shit too. You're my partner. You said we were
friends. Stop acting like we're strangers." I am surprised by his anger
and it seems that he is as well. 

 "You act like we don't know each other," he says more softly. 

 "I don't mean to, Ray. I know I've taken over your home the last few
days. I appreciate it, that's all." 

 "I know you do but all while you're being polite and telling me what a
great guy I am, you're not telling me about her. You're not telling me
that she hurt you, that you feel like dying. You're letting it all rattle
around in you're head, coming up with God knows what to explain it because
you'd rather go nuts by yourself than talk to me about something
personal." 

 I'm annoyed now. Do I have to share every sordid detail of my life in
order to be his friend? I'm not willing to. 

 "I have no desire to discuss this with you or anyone else. What happened
between Annie and me is between the two of us." 

 Ray stands up, tossing the pillow to the bottom of the bed. He puts his
hands into the front pockets of his blue jeans and rocks back on his heels
for a moment. He rocks forward to stand firmly on this two feet again. 

 "Let me tell you something, Fraser. Whoever it was, was wrong." 

 "I don't know what you're talking about." 

 "Whoever told you not to talk about bad stuff. They were wrong. You gotta
talk about it. You gotta get it in the open and deal with it. You think
about stuff on your own too much and it gets twisted in your head. You
start thinking one way and pretty soon everything looks like that." 

 "Ray, I assure you..." 

 "Don't assure me because I know better. What is running around up there?
Maybe you're thinking you'll call her in six months, see if she's feeling
better? Am I close?" 

 "No, you are not close," I say, my voice brittle with anger. "And this is
really not your concern." 

 "That was close to rude. You know that?" 

 I refuse to rise to this argument. 

 "Ray, I'm very tired. Let me stay for the night and I'll leave in the
morning. Will that be sufficient?" 

 "No, it won't be." 

 "Then I'll leave now," I say, not even sure I can make it down to the
street because my body is shaking so badly and I believe my fever is back.
I do manage to stand, though I'm still slightly dizzy. 

 "That's not what I meant. You don't gotta leave until you find a place to
live. I want you to tell me what's going on in your head." 

 "Yes, Ray, this was a very painful lesson for me. All right? Is that what
you wanted to hear?" 

 The sarcasm is practically dripping from my words. 

 "A painful lesson? Fraser, this isn't school. You cared about someone.
You loved them and they turned out to be something you couldn't recognize.
At least with Stella, I could watch the changes come over slow. With
Annie, it was like Jeckel and Hyde." 

 "I made an error. I rushed into the relationship. My only defense is that
I wasn't thinking clearly which I realize is no excuse." 

 "You didn't do anything wrong, Fraser. You're not gonna get grounded for
this." 

 "Grounded?" 

 "You never been grounded?" He says this curiously as if I have again
proven I am an alien to him. 

 "I don't think so." 

 "Made to stay indoors as a punishment for something. No TV, no phone
allowed, that kind of thing." 

 "As a child?" 

 "Well, yeah, I wasn't talking about Thatcher." 

 "I was sent to my room and made to stay there on occasion. But normally
my grandparents preferred a switch." 

 "A switch? Like a tree branch?" 

 "Something like that. Narrow, flexible." 

 "Ouch," he said. 

 "Yes," I agree. 

 Ray shook his head. "You're good, I'll give you that." 

 "Now what?" I'm irritated and finding it difficult to follow his logic. 

 "Distracting me." 

 "I was not...." 

 "Yeah, you were." I sigh pointedly and sit back down. This whole
conversation is too exhausting. 

 "All right, look, I'm not Vecchio, I get that. But, you should talk to
somebody. I kept everything in about Stella until I damn near lost my
mind. I just don't wanna see that happen to you." He turns his back to me
and goes to the dresser. "The couch is pulled out, why don't you go to
bed?" 

 I don't get very far. It occurs to me as I'm walking to the door that
through the last few weeks the only person I've been able to count on is
Ray Kowalski. He has stood by me through everything from Ray Vecchio's
leaving to Diefenbaker's faux death to Annie. This is a person that I have
known for approximately two months. 

 I turn around to find him emptying his pockets on the dresser. He must
realize that I haven't shut the door because he glances back to find me
standing there. 

 "You need something?" he asks. 

 "I would like to talk to you." 

 "You would?" I almost feel guilty at the surprise in his voice. 

 "Yes, if you're not too tired." 

 "No, I can do that" I can feel a new burst of energy from him and I find
his enthusiasm comforting. 

 I leave the bedroom to give both of us a few moments. I go into the
kitchen, passing my small stack of belongings that Ray has put near the
stereo. Something shiny glitters in the outside light. As I look closer, I
see the silver and turquoise bracelet lying on top of a wadded up shirt.
My emotions are still too near the surface and I have to blink a few times
to stay in control. 

 To keep busy and be of some small help, I make coffee in Ray's coffee
maker and I heat water for tea. The cast is more cumbersome than the wrist
brace and I knock into a small cup on the counter. It falls, of course,
and shatters on the floor. 

 "Okay, Frase?" Ray asks as he's coming out of the bedroom. 

 "Yes, I...I broke a cup, Ray. I'm sorry." Of course my tone is not
apologetic. The accident was stupid and it feels like more proof of my
inadequacies. 

 "It's just a cup. You need help?" he asks. 

 "No, I'll take care of it." 

 Apparently, everything is taking on great importance in my fever-addled
brain because as I am picking up the larger shards of glass, all I can
think of is dropping the plate at the disastrous barbecue that Annie and I
gave. 

 Ray startles me when he crouches nearby and tells me to go in the living
room. A firm hand on my shoulder tells me that he knows I'm a wreck at the
moment so I do what I'm told. 

 I look at the couch/bed and know I will feel ridiculous lying on it while
we talk so I take the chair instead. This is Ray's home and he'll probably
feel perfectly comfortable sprawled out. 

 It turns out that I'm wrong about this. He takes a look at me then
without a word he shoves the mattress back inside the couch and replaces
the cushions. He puts the coffee table back where it belongs then returns
to the kitchen. 

 When he comes back, he sets my tea down then leans back holding his
coffee and putting his sock covered feet against the table. 

 Now, that we're here, I have no idea what to say to him. Or rather no
idea how to begin. I don't like talking about my emotions. It goes against
my nature or my upbringing, but either way, this is difficult. Ray must
realize this because he starts talking first. 

 He tells me about the worst fight that he remembers with Stella. It is
not physically violent but I cringe at the words they threw at each other.
Both were obviously trying to do as much damage as possible. Ray seems so
desperate for her now that I can't imagine him saying such hurtful things
to her. 

 It is only polite to reciprocate and I start by describing the scene
after he left with Karen Morris the day of the barbecue. That soon leads
to the day I returned home after staying with him when he was injured. And
the stories go on. I can't seem to stop myself once I've started. I am
angry one moment and near tears the next. It's like an avalanche growing
bigger and louder with every foot of descent. 

 When it's over I am pacing through the living room not even remembering
that I stood up. Instead of feeling exhausted, I am humming with energy.
Ray has moved into the chair and is watching me silently. His expression
is so carefully neutral that I almost laugh. He could rival me in keeping
his emotions hidden. 

 "Feel better?" he asks when it's obvious that I've wound down. 

 "No," I answer, feeling betrayed. 

 "I didn't think you would. It's almost dawn, let's go get some
breakfast." He stands and stretches. 

 "Ray, I..." 

 "You needed to get it out. Feeling better will come later." 

 I am, for lack of a better term, shell-shocked. I have just released an
emotional torrent that I've not experienced in more years than I can
remember and yet Ray is not shocked or disturbed or disapproving.
Apparently, he's hungry. 

 He doesn't bother to change clothes or shower but I can't go out feeling
grimy. Ray waits patiently for the twenty minutes it takes for me to
shower and dress. I'm starting to feel tired but my appetite is back. 

 We walk half a block to a diner that we both like. Diefenbaker pads along
beside us then settles outside the door with a whine. We take a booth by
the large window and order full breakfasts of bacon, eggs, toast and
biscuits, pancakes, coffee and juice. I am ravenous. When I finish my
plate, I start to envy Ray's leftovers and he pushes his plate towards me
so I can finish his as well. 

 After a few moments for Ray to finish his coffee, we return to his
apartment where I nearly collapse in exhaustion and gluttony. 

 "I gotta get to work," he says, glancing at the clock. 

 I sit up straighter on the couch. "Ray, I'm sorry. You've been up all
night." 

 "Not a problem. I worked with no sleep before. There's nothing much going
on anyway. Probably spend the day catching up reports." 

 "Still, I..." 

 "Just get some sleep, Fraser. I'm grabbing a shower." 

 I wonder whether I have the energy to pull out the mattress but don't
think that I do. I search the floor briefly before my hand lands on a
pillow. Diefenbaker whines when he has to move off of it. I pull it
beneath my head, frown and then flip it over to a less hairy side. I don't
mind Dief's natural scent although the strawberry shampoo mixed in is an
odd combination. 

 I wake briefly when Ray drops a light blanket over me. I am only awake
long enough to hear the door open, close and then the turn of the lock.
Laying my hand on a wolf that is lying on the floor beside me, I close my
eyes. I am almost asleep when I feel someone watching me. Looking up
reveals my father standing over me. 

 "You did the right thing, son." I push myself up to sit earning a whine
from Diefenbaker. "It was difficult but in the end you did what needed to
be done. I am proud of you." 

 "Thank you." My voice is harsh around the lump in my throat. 

 "The yank...he isn't like the other one but I was right the first time,
he's a good man." 

 "Yes, he is." 

 "He's been a good friend to you, you know. A lot of people wouldn't have
bothered." 

 He's certainly right about that. 

 "You're not alone, Ben. You need to remember that. You have a good friend
in that one and the other one was good too." 

 "I think I'm realizing that now." 

 "Good, good. Now go on and get some sleep. I'll stay here a bit if you
don't mind. Just keep an eye on things." 

 "That's very kind of you, dad." 

 "You're not alone, son. Remember." 

 My throat is tight and I don't think I can answer without making a fool
of myself so I lie down instead. Diefenbaker settles as well. I take a
last look at my father as he sits in the chair across from me before I
close my eyes. He's right, of course. I am not alone. Ray Kowalski has
proven that to me with his fierce friendship. I still miss Ray Vecchio and
part of me misses Annie as well but the black pit inside of me has
lessened. It's a comforting thought as I surrender into sleep. 

End There Is Light by Lea Barrett: L8TLEA@aol.com

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