Divine Justice (47 page)

"We need you to sign this so you're good to go."

She hurriedly scribbled her name. She caught sight of a nurse pushing a wheelchair toward her. "Uh, what's that for?"

"It's hospital policy."

"But I'm fine. I don't need a wheelchair."

Dr. Habib tipped his head. "Hospital
policy
, Agent McLellan. You know how that works."

Before she could argue further, Ben entered the room and steered her by the shoulders toward the wheelchair.

"She'll take the ride," he said firmly. "Or she'll be staying another night."

"But Ben―"

"No buts." He glared at Jasi. And waited.

"Fine," she muttered.

She sat down in the wheelchair and kicked the footrests into position. Propping her bandaged arm on the armrest, she tried to ignore the throbbing pain.

Dr. Habib handed her a glass of water and two pills. "For the pain," he said.

"Any special instructions?" Ben asked him.

"Yeah, but I doubt she'll listen." The doctor chuckled.

"Hey!" Jasi waved a hand in the air. "I'm in the room, people. Right here."

Dr. Habib passed the clipboard to her. She signed the release form, added a happy face, then handed it back. The nurse and doctor left the room, and Jasi gave Ben an impatient look.

He laughed. "Time to escape from Alcatraz?"

"What time is it?"

Ben checked his watch. "Two-fifteen. Isn't Brandon supposed to be here?"

"He's late."

"When's he coming?"

Jasi shrugged. "I don't know. He isn't answering his cell phone. Maybe we could wait for him."

"Sorry, but we have to go now."

"Just a few more minutes," she pleaded.

"We can't, Jasi. I have a meeting with Matthew and Natassia later." He pushed the wheelchair toward the door. "Maybe Brandon's downstairs."

She grabbed onto that thin string of hope. "Maybe."

"Let's get you home," he said, steering the wheelchair toward the elevator.

"Did you come in my new car?"

The Mitsubishi Zen had been an unexpected bonus, a gift from Premier Allan Baker―for saving his life.

"Sorry," Ben said. "You'll have to make do with my old Mercedes."

When they reached lower level, an attendant at the information desk flagged them down.

"I was told to give this to you," the woman said, handing Jasi a folded sheet of paper.

Jasi opened it.

And her dreams went out the window. Again.

Jasi,

Sorry I didn't say goodbye. I didn't want to wake you.

I have to head back to Kelowna. I'll explain everything soon. Just give me a few days.

For now, trust me.

Yours, Brandon

"Trust him?" She crumpled the note in her hand. "He's got to be kidding." But even as she said this, she felt a pulling sensation in the pit of her stomach. She did trust Brandon. And that was foreign territory for her.

"Maybe you're being too hard on the guy," Ben said, shuffling his feet. "Why not trust him?"

"Maybe because the last guy I trusted drugged me and tried to kill me. Zane told me everything I wanted to hear. He used me. Then he tossed me away. Or tried to."

"Brandon wouldn't do that to you, Jazz."

She whirled around, her fist gripping the note. She stared Ben in the eye and said, "How do you know? Can you guarantee me that? Can you guarantee he won't rip my heart to shreds and leave me floundering?" She was panting now.

"There are no guarantees in life." His voice softened. "You know that. All you can do is trust and live every day to the fullest."

"Well, tell that to Mr. I'm-afraid-of-commitments."

"Did he say that?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it. "No, but―"

"But nothing, Jasi. You were the one who sent him away the first time. He came back though. That says something for the guy." He patted her arm. "And you're the one who's afraid of commitments."

She blinked back the tears. He was right.

"It's time, Jasi. Time to let go of the fear that's holding you back."

"But you know what happens when I get too close to someone. I'm not good for anything then. I can't even do my job."

"You said it was different with him."

"It is."

"Then stop looking for excuses not to be with him. Life's too short for that. You of all people should know that."

He was right. And they both knew it.

The drive home was tiring, but Jasi couldn't sleep, even though the dismal, overcast sky and pounding rain should have been conducive to at least a catnap. While Ben drove, Jasi gazed out the car window at the passing scenery.

Vancouver spread out before her like a lighted blanket of sounds, smells and movement, something alive and ready for action. Everything was so familiar, yet so different somehow. It was like she was seeing her city for the first time.

Her thoughts wandered to Zane Underhill. It wasn't easy to mourn him, again. Still, she'd put him to rest once. She could do it again.

Can't I?

She yearned for someone to ease her conscience.

Brandon's handsome face came to mind.

What did you really expect? A long term relationship?

She banished Brandon from her mind. He'd only done what she'd asked him to. Right?

When they arrived at her apartment building, she brushed aside all thoughts of Brandon. Suddenly, she wanted nothing other than to sleep for a week. In her own bed.

"Thanks, Ben," she said at the front door.

"Do you want me to come inside for a few minutes?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine. I just need to sleep."

Entering her loft, she dropped her purse on the floor and headed for the shower. She barked out the temperature and pressure settings, stripped, then stepped into the shower and leaned against the wall.

When she emerged a half hour later, she felt disinfected and sterilized. Sometimes it was hard to feel clean after a case; sometimes it was impossible. This time seemed even more impossible. She was dealing with memories of two cases―one just weeks ago and one from the past.

Naked, she shivered. "Welcome home, Jasi."

She crawled between the cool sheets, hugged her pillow and fell asleep on the first breath.

The dream started off as a warm, happy memory.

Jasi's mother stood at the kitchen sink and the sunlight glinted in her shoulder-length fiery hair. She was humming a tune along with the radio while washing the dishes by hand.

"Mommy?"

Her mother turned. "Yes, baby girl?"

Eight-year-old Jasmine smiled. Her mother was so beautiful.

"When's Poppa and Brady gonna be back?" she asked.

"Soon." Her mother swiped at a strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. "It's beautiful outside, honey. Why don't you play in the backyard? Take some toys outside in the sun."

"But I want to stay with you. Maybe we could bake cookies together or watch Free Willy again."

"I-I can't, Jasmine. I'm expecting company in a bit. Business stuff."

Little Jasmine scowled. She studied her dirty runners and got angrier and angrier by the second. Mommy was
always
busy lately. Half the time she was busy with Brady, changing his diapers and getting him his special food. And she was always going out and leaving Mrs. Gagnon from across the street in charge. Mrs. Gagnon smelled like old cheese.

Someone banged on the front door.

Her mother jumped. "Run along outside, baby girl."

"I'm not a baby."

"You'll always be my baby, Jasmine."

Her mother scurried down the hall toward the front door. Jasmine saw her leaning against the door. The look in her eyes was one of fear. This wasn't a welcome visitor.

"Go outside and play," her mother yelled at her.

Jasmine walked toward the sliding door that led outside. But then she did something she'd never done before. She disobeyed her mother.

She ducked into the closet near the bathroom. Leaning against Poppa's winter jacket, she took a deep breath and listened. She heard voices. Her mother and a man. He sounded really, really mad.

"
Calista, this
has gone on long enough. It's time."

"I can't," her mother said.

"For Christ's sake, what's it going to take?" the man yelled. "Where's the kid?"

"She's not here," her mother said.

Jasmine heard the man swear. He yelled something and her mother yelled back. She was crying.

Mommy?

She pressed her eyes to the door slats. A flash of mauve raced past. Her mother's slippers. Mommy always said never to run in the house. So why was she running?

"No!" her mother shrieked.

A bulky blur ran past the closet. It happened so fast that Jasmine didn't know it was the man until he stopped a few feet away, his face partially turned away. She couldn't make out his face. He wore a baseball cap pulled low over his brow.

"Cali!" the man growled. "Don't even think of running from me."

They were in the kitchen now. Jasmine heard the shattering of glass. Was her mother throwing dishes like she did sometimes when she was mad at Poppa?

Tears pooled in her eyes. That scared her too.

Don't cry.

A sharp bang echoed through the house.

She held her breath. She had to. The air smelled funny.

Finally, she reached out to push the closet door, but footsteps overhead made her pause. Someone was moving around upstairs. Doors opened and slammed.

Jasi listened, her heart pounding in her chest. Something wasn't right. She could feel it. Her mother's business meeting wasn't going so well. But Poppa would be home soon and he'd tell the mean man to go away.

Footsteps stomped down the stairs.

She was about to call out to her mother when she saw the man through the slats. He carried something shiny in his hand and he smelled like a campfire.

No smoking in the house, she wanted to say. That's what Mommy always told Poppa.

The man paused in front of the closet.

Could he hear her breathing?

She hoped not.

Through the slats, she studied the man's feet. He wore shoes like Poppa's.

The shoes turned, suddenly facing her.

Shivering, Jasmine shrank back into the shadows.

Please don't find me. Please.

The man jerked his head as if he heard something.

Mommy! I'm scared!

"It didn't have to be this way, Cali," the man said, turning away. "But you left me no choice."

Her mother must have answered him because Jasmine saw him nod. Then he said, "I'm sorry, Cali."

There was another loud bang, followed by silence.

Jasmine closed her eyes, trying hard not to cry. She opened them when she heard the front door slam. She waited a few minutes. When there was no sign of the man, she wiped the tears from her face and slipped from the closet.

"Mommy?" she whispered.

No answer.

She must be in the kitchen.

"Mommy? He's gone now."

Silence.