The Thousandth Man

  Part 3

Johnny sat limply in the driver’s seat of his Rover, downhearted, dreading having to see Joanne DeSoto, and lay the news of the day’s disappointments on her. Envisioning her face and the children’s when they received this information reminded him of Drew, and the fact that as much as he hadn’t wanted to, he would have to relive that situation.

He would have given anything to be able to just go home and crawl into his warm bed and sleep, forgetting this whole nightmare for a while. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he tried. He shivered, not having been warm in hours, and felt his eyelids drooping. He couldn’t remember feeling this exhausted in a long time.

A fresh wave of anger welled up inside of him as he recalled the Captain’s refusal to allow him to accompany them on the next day’s search. He had argued, respectfully, to the point where he could see he was beginning to antagonize the Captain, and so he had backed off. Dejectedly, he’d plodded away, only to be chased down by Eric Elliot, who apologized, and assured him they would do everything in their power to find his friend. It hadn’t been much comfort.

They think he’s dead. They’re so sure of themselves. How can they explain finding his jacket and life vest, and not finding his body? He laid his head down on the steering wheel in despair, and suddenly past words rippled through his mind.

‘Next time we get a water rescue, you get to go in first and nearly drown.’ Oh God, did I say that? I did! Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut? Roy probably remembered that; that’s why he told me to go up first! I shouldn’t have listened to him! I should have insisted he go up first.

God, Roy, where are you? I know you’re out there somewhere. I know you’re alive!

He felt it with every ounce of conviction he had. Roy was alive, and he wasn’t about to think otherwise for a moment.  Until he saw Roy’s corpse with his own eyes, he would never believe his best friend was dead.

Darkness was encroaching when Johnny made it to Roy’s neighborhood. Thick leaden clouds draped the sky, leaving a small space beneath them on the horizon where a brilliant sunset peaked out. The contrast between the heavy darkness and the pale orange sky was stunning, and the setting sun cast rays across the underside of the clouds, turning their bottoms tangerine. If Johnny hadn’t been so disheartened, he would have taken time to appreciate the beauty.

He turned the corner and Roy’s house was in sight. The driveway was full of cars and more were parked on the street in front of the house. He spotted a few he recognized, Cap’s, Mike’s, Chet’s, and Dixie’s among them. He also saw Mick’s, and was glad that Dixie had remembered to tell her what was going on. It was good that Joanne and the kids had a house full of people to comfort them. But at the same time, Johnny wasn’t looking forward to facing everyone with the news he had.

Weary to the bone, he had trouble pushing his car door open. His legs felt like jello, and his feet felt like they had cement blocks tied to them as he walked. Dead-tired that morning even before going out on the boat; now, after hours of diving and searching he was way past that, like a car with an empty gas tank running on fumes. The caffeine buzz that he’d struggled to maintain all day was gone now, and he felt lost in a cloud of exhaustion, his mind finding it difficult to focus on anything. How am I gonna face everyone? I don’t even know if I can put two words together to form an intelligible sentence. 

Maybe they have some coffee going.

He tensed as he stepped up on the front porch and reached for the doorbell, dreading having to face his best friend’s wife for the third time in twenty-four hours.

Hank’s wife, Linda, sat next to Joanne on their sofa, her neighbor, Carla, on the other side, flanking her. Chris and Jennifer sat on the floor quietly playing a board game with Carla’s kids while the other adults made small talk.

People had been trickling in all day in support of Joanne after word got out of Roy’s disappearance. Food was spread out on their dining room table while the television droned softly in the background as they hoped to catch a scrap of information from the news media about Roy. Other than a brief story about his disappearance on the six o’clock news, there’d been no further information. Now all they could do was to wait for Johnny to come back.

Mick had been watching the window, and now saw the set of headlights approaching. She craned her neck to see who it was, then her heart caught in her throat when she saw the Land Rover pull up and park across the street. “He’s here,” she called softly.

Everyone stopped talking and set their attention on the front door. Joanne forced herself up off the sofa and stood waiting, her whole body tense. Mick headed for the door.

Johnny had just stepped onto the front porch and was reaching for the doorbell when Mick opened the door. Her hopeful eyes met his defeated ones, and Johnny shook his head slowly in silent answer. His stooped posture and the sagging features of his face bespoke of an all encompassing fatigue and deep sadness. His eyes were heavy and bloodshot, the skin around them dark. His hair was still damp from the dive and was a matted mess.

The sight of him shocked Michaela. Johnny looked worse than Joanne. It slowly dawned on her just how much Roy’s loss was going to affect him – every bit as devastating as losing a brother. Pulling him inside, she drew him into a comforting hug. His limp arms encircled her waist, and he hung there a long moment, resting his head on her shoulder and closing his tired eyes.

Sensing someone near, Johnny opened his eyes and saw Jo hovering behind Mick. Carla sidled up next to her, latching onto her arm and holding her hand, while the others in the room gathered around them.

“Johnny?” Joanne’s frightened eyes went all the way to his soul and he pulled from Mick’s embrace.

Johnny moved to face her, placing his hands on her shoulders. It was painful to look into her eyes, but he did, trying to make his own look hopeful. “We didn’t find him,” he said softly, and he heard soft but unsurprised groans in the background. Joanne’s face fell and tears welled up in her eyes. He pulled her into his arms and held her, telling her that the Coast Guard was continuing the search. “Jo, they’ll find him. I know they’ll find him.”

She drew back and looked up at him hopefully, yet afraid to be hopeful. A small part of her knew that Roy was lost, but she wasn’t willing to accept that yet; it was too painful. And Johnny didn’t seem ready to give up. Right now Johnny was her anchor, and she held on to his arms with both hands, her fingers digging into his forearms, begging him with her eyes to tell her everything was going to be okay. He was her only hope. “Are you going back out with them to continue searching?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer that. She was counting on him to bring her husband back to her. How could he tell her that he wouldn’t be allowed to go out with the Coast Guard again? “Jo…today they allowed me to join them; it was a courtesy. But I’m afraid they won’t let me go out again.”

Jo’s face fell and she looked up at him in disbelief. “Won’t allow it? But why? You’re with the fire department. You work with the Coast Guard all the time.”

Johnny didn’t answer. He had no answer. His gaze dropped downward.

“Did something…happen?” she asked, alarmed, but not quite knowing how to ask, but not wanting to accuse him of anything.

“No, of course not, Joanne. It’s just that, they have certain rules…” he was really too tired to argue.

“You’re his partner. Johnny, you’ve got to go with them!” She was almost frantic, as if his presence was the only thing that would assure Roy’s safe return.

Johnny squeezed her arms. “Jo, listen to me. I didn’t say I was giving up. And I’m not. It’s just that…they don’t like to have people who are too close to the victim go out with them. It’s against policy. Besides, they don’t need me. They’ve got a good crew of men who know what they’re doing. And they’re doing everything that is humanly possible to recover Roy.”

Those words were meant to assure him just as much as they were meant to assure her. He dipped his head to look directly into her eyes. “Whether I go out with the Coast Guard or go out on my own, I can promise you this – I won’t stop searching for Roy until I find him. Do you understand? I won’t stop. I promise.” He looked meaningfully at her, making sure she saw the conviction in his face. Then he offered her a small smile. “It’s gonna be okay.”

The two stood in each other’s clutches for several long seconds before Jo finally eased her grip. Johnny felt a hand on his arm. It was Mick. He looked behind her and saw the room beyond crowded with people, their stares transfixed on their interaction. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t stand up any more.

Mick looked worriedly at him. She’d never seen him look so vulnerable before. “Johnny, come sit down and have a cup of coffee.” She coaxed at his arm. Chet appeared at their side.

John smiled half-heartedly at her. As he took a step away from Jo, his right knee buckled, and he almost fell. Chet caught his arm as it flailed outward, steadying him on one side, while Mick caught his other arm.

“Johnny?” they both called in alarm simultaneously.

Embarrassed, he recovered quickly, refusing their help. He held up his hand in a gesture that he was okay. “Someone care to get me that cup of coffee?”

“Sure, John,” Chet offered.

Mick escorted him over to the couch and he collapsed onto it. Moments later, Chet handed him a steaming mug.

Sitting down was a bad idea, he soon realized. It was as if the couch was sucking him downward, luring him into a prone position, enticing him to just close his eyes and go to sleep. Weariness washed over him in waves and he clutched at the coffee cup, gulping down several swallows to force himself to stay awake. For he wasn’t done yet. The worst part was yet to come.

As everyone crowded back into the room, they began peppering him with questions about the dive. Joanne anxiously sat down next to him, eager to hear the exact details of the day.

He knew he would have to tell them everything, but was dreading it. For a moment he considered not mentioning the life jacket, yet he never had been very good at lying, and knew they would likely find out sooner or later. He couldn’t do that to Joanne. And maybe it would be better for her to hear it while she had friends around for support. He just hated to think about the reaction he knew he would get.

His eyes closed on their own accord as he drew the mug to his lips once more before beginning the story, and he almost nodded off in that position. Michaela nudged him gently and he peeled his eyes open, momentarily confused as to his surroundings until he saw everyone around him. Blinking a few times, he forced himself to focus on the day’s events.

It seemed like every time John gave them one piece of information, someone had a question about it. He felt like a witness on a stand testifying before a jury. His entire day got dissected into a play-by-play account, until there was nothing left to say. Well, almost nothing. One very important piece of information had been left out.

Joanne had been listening with rapt attention, her face frozen in sadness and disappointment as Johnny neared the end of his story. Johnny had stopped rather abruptly, trying to figure out how to put this next bit of information into words. Joanne sensed something was wrong, maybe his face gave it away, he didn’t know, but he felt like a trapped animal when she looked intently at him and asked her next question.

“Johnny…what aren’t you telling me?” She must have just known him too well; either that, or his game face just wasn’t good enough to cover up the bad news.

He swallowed, and when Joanne saw his hesitation she knew she was right. “What?” she asked frantically. “You did find something. What is it?” She wasn’t sure she really wanted to hear.

He turned to face her and everyone in the room froze. “On the second dive…I was swimming around some pieces of the wreckage of the boat, and I saw an object tangled up in the algae.”

Joanne covered her mouth in horror. She wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to say, but her imagination told her that maybe it had been a body part, and she let out a tiny cry.

“What was it, John? What did you find?” Dixie asked gently.

He took a deep, shaky breath. “Well, it was a…a lifejacket.”

Everyone stared at him, their faces turning pale with horror as they realized the implications of Johnny’s find.

“Was it…Roy’s lifejacket?” his captain asked softly.

“I…they think it was,” Johnny said in defeat.

Joanne began to cry again, and this time Johnny put his arm around her. “Joanne, please, don’t jump to conclusions. Now they’re not one hundred percent sure it was Roy’s, but even if it was, that doesn’t prove anything.”

“Doesn’t prove anything?!” she cried. “Johnny, if he lost his lifejacket, then he must have drowned!” and she began sobbing.

“No, Joanne. It doesn’t mean that at all.”

Other members in the room began to look at each other warily, wondering if Gage was just in denial or if he was just so tired he didn’t know what he was saying. It had been almost twenty-four hours since Roy disappeared with no sign from him other than his jacket and now lifejacket. The evidence seemed devastatingly against his chances of survival.

Once again, Joanne looked up at Johnny, her eyes pleading with him to just say something that didn’t point to her husband’s death, something that would convince her that there was still a chance Roy was alive. “Johnny, what are you trying to say?” she asked in desperation.

He tried his best. “Jo, just because we found those items doesn’t mean that Roy’s…gone. Roy’s a good strong swimmer; he could have swam away from the scene. He could be on one of the islands or something. Maybe he could have been picked up by another watercraft, we just don’t know yet. There’re still a lot of angles to explore.”

She looked slightly hopeful now, but not completely convinced. Everyone else was quiet. They didn’t want to give up either, but in their eyes things looked bleak. Hank began to worry that maybe Johnny was just seeing things through rose-colored glasses.

Hank cleared his throat, set his coffee cup on the coffee table in front of him and leaned forward toward John. “John, I thought you said the Harbor Patrol would be searching the islands. Wouldn’t they have found him by now, or even more likely, if Roy had made it to one of the islands, wouldn’t he have gotten in touch with us somehow?”

“Cap, Catalina’s a big island. But he might not even be there. There’re other islands out there too. He could have swam to San Clemente.”

Hank tried to keep his expression from looking too skeptical, but he thought it was a stretch to think that Roy could have ended up on one of the islands – not in that kind of a storm.

Johnny rubbed both his eyes with the fingers on his right hand. “The point it, there’s no telling where Roy might be. We don’t even know how badly injured he is. If he hit his head, maybe he’s disoriented. Maybe he’s not able to get in touch with us for some reason.” Johnny sighed deeply. “All I know is, I’m not ready to give up searching yet.” He looked around at everyone in the room as if challenging them.

“Johnny, none of us are,” Mike said quietly.

The conversation lulled after that. Too tired to hold his coffee cup any more, Johnny set it down. His eyelids slid shut almost immediately, his body signaling that it was way past time to rest. He’d been up now over thirty-six hours and was so exhausted he almost felt sick. Still upright on the sofa, his head started to loll. The clatter of dishes being collected around him caused his head to jerk upward, and he looked around, blinking.

They were all tired. No one had gotten much sleep after learning of Roy’s disappearance, yet each of them had had time during the day for a few hours of rest, which was more than Johnny got. Captain Stanley stood in front of the young paramedic, hands on hips. “John, go home, pal. Get some rest, okay?”

With eyes at half-mast, he argued softly, “No…not yet, Cap.” He glanced over at Joanne, who was now quietly talking with Stoker’s wife, then at the two DeSoto children. “I…I think I better stay a while.”

“Michaela, take him home. John, we’ll stay here with Joanne. It’s been a long day, and you’ve done all you can. Now go get some rest.” One corner of his mouth was set in a grimace. “That’s an order.”

Mick was glad of Captain Stanley’s urging; she didn’t think Johnny would leave if she had been the one to suggest it. She could see the physical toll the day had taken on him. What she didn’t know was how deep the emotional toll would go. John and Roy were close; that she knew. Johnny had managed to keep a tight lid on his emotions for Joanne, but she knew he had to be devastated by this. And after the kind of night he’d had last night, then a day of searching out on rough waters, finding only Roy’s life jacket, she worried about how he would hold up. She looked over at him, then hooked her hand through his arm. “C’mon, Johnny. Let’s go home.”

Her voice sounded far away. He was too tired to answer. Mechanically, he scooted to the edge of the sofa and Mick helped hoist him upwards. His stance wobbled a bit then he followed her into the foyer, bumping clumsily into the wall once as he did so.

As he turned, he saw Joanne standing behind him, her face anxious, as if she feared him leaving. Her expression triggered a distressed expression on his face; just seeing her pain exacerbated his own. “Jo,” he said, and she fell into his arms. Mick wasn’t sure who was holding whom up. They both looked ready to collapse.

After patting her back a few times, Johnny pulled away and forced a smile at her. “You get some rest.” She nodded. “And I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

She nodded again, not trusting her voice to speak.

Johnny let her go and took a step to leave, then hesitated. Turning back, he said, “In the morning…I’m going back out to look.”

Mick’s mouth dropped open. “Johnny, what – ”

“I’ll find some way to convince the Coast Guard to let me go.”

Joanne smiled faintly, and whispered, “Thank you, Johnny.”

Then he and Michaela left.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michaela finished brushing her long hair, then headed for the bedroom. Johnny was already in bed, lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Sighing, she flipped off the light and climbed in next to him. Sliding her arm across his chest, she hugged him close to her, lightly stroking the side of his face.

“I shouldn’t have left him down there,” John said quietly.

Mick’s hand stilled and she looked at the profile of his face in the dimness. “What do you mean?”

“I left him down on the boat, Mick, in that storm. I should have insisted he go up first, then none of this would have happened.”

“Baby, you can’t blame yourself for this. Besides, I thought you said Roy told you to go up before him. Seems like you didn’t have much choice.”

Johnny sighed in frustration. “He did. But I could have refused. I had a bad feeling about it.” He shook his head slowly. “I should have trusted my instincts. Roy never sails…he wasn’t thinking about the boom. I would have been watching out for it. Now Roy’s gone…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Why didn’t I…”

Michaela rose up on her elbow and looked down at him, anger tingeing her words. “And if you had stayed, then you’d be missing right now.”

Johnny said nothing. He’d already had this same conversation with Dixie. He didn’t expect Mick to understand. It was an unspoken pact that the two men had with each other, to watch the other’s back that an ordinary person wouldn’t understand unless they’d experienced it. This time Roy had been watching out for him, likely because of the tragedy that had almost occurred on the last water rescue, and now he was paying the price. 

Mick watched him for a long time, waiting for a response. When it didn’t come, she laid her head back down on his chest, hugging him again. Her voice broke the silence. “Are you sure you want to go back down there tomorrow?”

“I have to, Mick.”

“But why?” She didn’t want him to go. She would rather him stay home and rest, but knew there was an unlikely chance of that. “They told you they weren’t allowing you in on the search. I think you should – ”

“Didn’t you see her face?” His voice was tight with barely restrained emotion. “Mick, I owe it to her to do everything I can to find her husband. And not just her, but to Roy and those two kids.” And myself, he left unsaid.

Michaela decided this wasn’t the time to argue about it. She couldn’t fault him for his loyalty. “Okay.” She spoke quietly, now stroking his arm. “Let’s talk about it later. You need to get some sleep.”

“Right,” he said sarcastically. Despite the fact that his mind was awhirl with a continuous instant replay of the accident, he fell quickly into slumber, the exhaustion winning over for the time being.

It was nearly three o’clock in the morning when Johnny’s tossing and turning awoke Michaela. Every few seconds he would jerk, which later graduated into thrashing. This was unusual for Johnny. He usually slept like a log, barely moving.

Mick sat up in bed, watching him, wondering if she should wake him or let it subside. It became obvious he was having a bad dream, for every so often he would let out a soft but distressed cry.

Before she could contemplate further, he flew upward with a shout, his hands groping for something that only he could see. His breaths were deep and ragged, his expression terrified. Michaela reached out to him, capturing one of his hands in hers and gently calling his name. “Johnny. Hey, it’s okay. You were only dreaming, babe.”

Gasping, he slowly turned and looked at her, disoriented. “Mi-Michaela?”

“Yes. I’m here. You were dreaming. It’s okay.”

“Are…are we…in our bedroom?”

“Yes. You’re at home.” She held his hand tightly.

Slowly his shoulders sagged as he gulped in breaths of air. “Oh man,” he breathed out. “I thought…”

“What?” she asked in the darkness.

He shook his head, not wanting to recreate the nightmare. “Nothing,” he whispered. Shakily he turned and gave her a quick kiss. “I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep.” Slowly he laid back, still trembling slightly, the fragmented pieces of the dream still playing out. He lay there a long time, thinking about the drowning scene he’d just unconsciously created in his mind. It was too real.

Mick batted at the alarm clock, trying to shut it off before it woke Johnny. Five-thirty was way too early to get out of bed in her opinion, but the hospital called. Yawning, she stretched, her arm landing on a cold, empty spot on the bed next to her where the covers had been turned back. It was still dark out.

Wandering through the rooms looking for Johnny, the house was dark, but the aroma of fresh coffee wafted through the halls. Flipping on the kitchen light, she saw the pot Johnny had brewed for her, then noticed a note next to it. It read: Went down to the marina. I’ll call you later. ~ Johnny

Sighing, she poured herself a cup and went to shower. She wondered if Johnny had gotten any sleep at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Johnny stood at the edge of the pier, incredulous, as he watched the Coast Guard boat pull away. He had just missed them and he wondered if Captain Pierce had left early on purpose, to avoid a confrontation with him this morning.

Cursing, he wandered around for a while, kicking at stray rocks in his anger. The sun was just coming up and he looked out over the water, wondering where in the hell Roy was. Still in a fog from lack of sleep, he felt like the neurons in his brain weren’t firing or connecting as they should; he was having trouble putting his thoughts in order as to what to do next.

He finally decided to go get a bite to eat somewhere, then formulate a plan over breakfast. He found a diner nearby and stopped for some eggs and coffee and to read the paper.

His heart almost stopped when he saw Roy’s picture on page three with the heading, “Paramedic Disappears During Daring Water Rescue”. The sick feeling he got in the pit of his stomach stifled his appetite, and he wondered how Joanne would react when she saw it. He read the article, found his own name included in it, but saw no blame directed at him, and just shook his head. Leaving the paper in a crumpled heap on the seat, he tossed a tip on the table and left.

If the Coast Guard wouldn’t let him ride along, he doubted that the Harbor Patrol would. I don’t need them, he decided. I’ll do it on my own. He drove to the ferry dock and caught the first one to Catalina, determined to cover every inch of the island in his search for Roy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was dark when the Rover slowly pulled to a stop in the dirt driveway. Exhausted once again, Johnny stared blearily out his windshield, unable to pull himself out of his vehicle. His gaze slowly shifted, coming to rest on the barn he’d built. With a sudden start, his eyes widened and he jumped from his Rover, breaking into a run for the barn.

The horses! My God I forgot the horses.

Denali and Jed were barking from within the barn, and he could hear Glue inside the house. He flung open the door and rushed inside the dimly lit structure. The dogs assaulted him immediately, hungry for attention.

“Okay, okay, calm down.” Johnny gave the two dogs a quick rub behind the ears while admonishing them to get down. He hated dogs that jumped on people and had trained his not to do it – unless Chet was around. There were always exceptions.

Heading toward one of the stalls, the ball of his foot landed on something hidden in the straw. A second later, an object flew at him in a blur, smacking him square in the forehead.

“Ow! What the – ” Nursing his head with his hand, his squinted eyes searched for the culprit. Lying in the hay in front of him was a wayward pitchfork. “Oh, for cryin’ out loud,” he groused, bending to snatch it up. Frustrated and angry, he lifted it as if to throw it like a javelin. Sensing the animals’ eyes on him, he glanced over at Moe, who, if he’d had eyebrows, would have had one of them raised. Unsettled, the horses shuffled nervously in their stalls, sensing their owner’s foul mood. Slowly, Johnny lowered the pitchfork and hung it up in its place. Likely the dogs or one of the cats had knocked it loose from its hook on the wall.

Sighing in exasperation, John went from stall to stall, checking each of the horses, relieved to find that they’d been fed, exercised, and groomed. He sent up a silent thank you to his neighbor. Thank you, Bob. I don’t know how you knew I wouldn’t be here today, but I’m glad you did.

He returned to each of them, seeking comfort after a long and disappointing day. Speaking softly to each animal, his soothing words weren’t only for them as his calloused hands stroked their silky necks. The dogs waited patiently, and soon Johnny had their food bowls filled. Bugs kitty and her one remaining offspring, Yosemite Sam, were likely out hunting at this time of night. Michaela had found homes for the other kittens.

“Okay, boys, c’mon.” Denali and Jed bounded after him as Johnny left the barn, shut and locked it, and headed for the house.

Glue was waiting at the door, barking, starved for both food and attention. No one had been home all day. Johnny ruffled the border collie’s fur. “What’sa matter, girl? You lonely? You should have taken your chance this morning and gone out with Denali and Jed.” Glue had taken to staying in the house in the mornings with Michaela instead of going out to the barn with the others.

Johnny spied a note on the kitchen table. Picking it up, he smiled softly for the first time that day as he read it.

I called Bob to take care of the horses before I left this morning, so no worries. He also let the dogs out. Hope you’ve got some good news. I’ll try to call you when I get a break. xoxoxoxoxoooooo, Mickie.

Raising the letter to his nose, he inhaled deeply, drinking in the faint scent of her perfume lingering on the paper. What would I do without you? 

He set the note aside, and reached for the bag of dog food to feed Glue, who had been trying to bury her nose in John’s pants leg since he walked in the door. Bending over, he set the bowl on the floor and gave the border collie a ruffle between the ears. As he stood up, a deep fatigue washed over him and he closed his eyes. A grumble from his stomach cut into the silence, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Yet he wasn’t hungry.

Shuffling over to the refrigerator door, he yanked it open and stood there for nearly a minute before he decided that a drink was more palatable.

Johnny settled himself on the sofa in the living room and gulped down half of a bottle of beer. It was deathly quiet, and emotions that he’d kept at bay all day while busy now were pounding on the door demanding to be acknowledged. A glance down at his watch unleashed a deep sigh. His head fell back against the sofa. It’s been 48 hours. Roy’s been missing for two days.  

It still seemed too incredible to comprehend. He didn’t want to think about where Roy could be, but was unable to stop himself. Unwanted visions of waves crashing over Roy’s head until he disappeared under the foamy surface filled his mind and he suddenly lurched forward, the unconscious reaction of his body desperate to stop thoughts he didn’t want to face.

Fingers massaged tired eyes as John reviewed his day, desperate to unmask some clue that maybe he’d missed. Counting on joining Captain Pierce’s crew hadn’t prepared him for the possibility that he wouldn’t be included in the search, despite what the man had told John the previous night. So when he made the last minute decision to ferry to Catalina, he didn’t have a good plan as to how to explore the island.

He realized once he got there that he couldn’t just start walking around asking strangers if they’d seen Roy. If he’d had a photograph with him then it might have been more productive. So he’d decided to explore the perimeter of the island, starting on the southwest shore, which was the most likely place that he would find Roy should he have made it to the island. The only way to do that was to rent a boat.

Painstakingly, he’d searched as many nooks and crannies as time would allow, often docking the boat and getting out to walk along the shoreline for evidence. He turned up nothing. Not a spec of proof to conclude that Roy might have swam for shore. But today was the tip of the iceberg. He still had at least ninety percent of the island left to explore, and he intended to cover every inch of it. If he had to knock on every door of every person and business on Catalina, then that’s what he would do. And when he was finished with that, he’d search San Clemente. No stone would be left unturned.

The conclusion of the day had led to more disappointment when he’d returned to the Coast Guard base only to find that they’d once again turned up nothing. He’d watched the planes fly overhead all morning and afternoon, back and forth in their grid pattern as they searched from the sky. Not once did they circle back or drop lower for a closer look, which would have indicated that they’d spotted a telltale sign.

He saw some evidence of Fire Command on the island, and once passed a Harbor Patrol boat, yet they’d been unsuccessful as well. As the night crew prepared to go back out, Johnny thought seriously about requesting to be present, but the look on Michael Pierce’s face told him there was no chance of that happening. And he had to work in the morning. There was no way that he could stay up another night and be able to do his job the next day.

If only he didn’t have to work tomorrow. He dreaded going in and not having Roy there. Every second of the day, every run, every conversation would be a reminder of his lost partner.

Obligations beckoned; he had calls to make. One to Cap, who he would ask to call the rest of Roy’s friends at the station, then the dreaded call to Joanne, to let her know the status.

The only real news was that they’d analyzed Roy’s life jacket, and no conclusions could be drawn from that information. He’d been told that the life jacket had been in good condition; there were no tears or other damage that might indicate an attack or a struggle. Johnny thought that was good news, except that it only made the whole disappearance more illogical. There was just no way to explain what might have happened to Roy.

The call to the captain wasn’t too painful; the call to Joanne was heart-wrenching. All I do is bring her bad news, Johnny lamented. He heard her voice quaver on the phone as she tried to be brave yet wasn’t entirely successful. Once again he assured her he’d continue to search until Roy was found.

A long silence ensued and he wondered if she was still on the line. “Joanne?”

The choked response he got told him that she was once again crying. “I…I’m here.”

Johnny closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping in dismay. “It’s gonna be all right, Jo.”

He listened to the silence. “Jo, is anyone there with you? Do you want me to come over?” It was the last thing he wanted to do, but she sounded so lost. She shouldn’t be alone.

“No, Johnny. Um, Eileen is here. She’s staying with me for a while. But…thank you. Thank you for everything you’re doing.”

Johnny grimaced. “Yeah,” he said half-heartedly, wishing with his entire being that he could go back and relive that rescue. “You call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I…I will.”

“Night or day, Joanne. I’ll be at the station tomorrow if you need me.”

“Okay.” She sniffled.

“Jimmy okay?”

“Yes. Yes, he’s…he’s all right. Eileen’s with him right now.” Ever since they’d brought the baby home after the first crisis, Joanne hadn’t let him out of her sight. He spent most of the day in her arms or wrapped in a snugly tight against her body. At night, he slept in a bassinet right next to her bed. Neither she nor Roy had gotten much sleep since he’d been home, afraid that they’d wake up to find him dead. The doctor had assured them it was okay to bring him home, and what signs of distress to watch for that would indicate a worsening condition. It was nerve-wracking and frightening.

“Good. Okay, well…uh, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Johnny.”

He heard the soft click of the phone being hung up before replacing the receiver back in its cradle.

   ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Johnny ran into Roy’s replacement by accident the next morning when the two nearly collided. Johnny was on his way in to the dorm, when Gil Robinson was on his way out.

Gage had so much on his mind that he hadn’t even considered who he might be partnered with while Roy was out. So when he saw Gil he was genuinely surprised.

“Gil! Hey, what are you doing here?”

Gil eyed Johnny with a bit of confusion. “Uh, I guess Captain Stanley didn’t tell you, huh? They sent me to replace Roy.”

Replace Roy. The words hit him like a punch to the stomach. Johnny frowned, his throat suddenly expanding.

Gil realized his mistake immediately, backpedaling to amend his poor choice of words. He knew Johnny wasn’t ready to accept Roy’s death just yet. No one was. “Ah, I mean, I’m filling in for Roy.”

Johnny just nodded, not trusting himself to comment. “I’ve gotta change.” He moved past Gil and into the dorm. The tall mustached man followed, hoping to rectify his blunder.

Johnny opened his locker and pulled out a pair of work pants. Gil moved to another locker near Chet’s, pretending to search for something from within.

Gil regarded Johnny surreptitiously as he changed, just now realizing how much this was affecting him. Gage’s stature was slightly slumped, his movements slower than usual. There was a desolation in his eyes, darkened by stress and fatigue. Johnny surely wasn’t the relaxed, happy-go-lucky guy he’d been the last time they’d worked together.

Gil remembered how close the two paramedics had seemed when he’d ridden along with them about a year ago and had envied that, hoping that when he got his permanent assignment, he’d be partnered with someone he not only worked well with, but with whom he could be friends. Back then, during his paramedic training, he thought that Johnny could be that person, had he not already been partnered with Roy. They knew each other from way back in high school; they already had something in common. At the time, Johnny had even joked to Roy about how well he and Gil worked together and that Roy better watch out, although Gil would never have wanted to gain a partner this way.

 Gil shifted nervously, uncomfortable with the palpable silence. “Johnny?”

Gage slowly swiveled to look at his new partner. “Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry about Roy.”

A corner of Johnny’s mouth turned upward slightly. “Yeah. Me too. Thanks.” It was all he could manage to say. All he’d done the past two days was think about Roy, yet it was difficult to talk about. Especially with someone who didn’t really understand.

Gil shut his locker and came over to sit near John on the bench. “Have they turned up any clues as to his whereabouts?”

Johnny sighed as he pulled his shirt off. “No. There’s been nothing yet.” He glanced down at Gil, who looked genuinely concerned.

“Man, that’s too bad. How’s his wife taking it?”

“Pretty hard.” John really didn’t feel like getting into explaining all about Jimmy and those problems.

“Guess that’s to be expected.”

Johnny only nodded, continuing to get dressed.

Gil regarded him a moment longer, getting the message that John didn’t feel like talking, then got up to leave. “Well, I’ll, uh, meet you at the squad to do calibrations.”

“Okay.” Johnny watched him leave, sighing. He sank down onto the bench. This is already hard, and I just got here.

He hoped Gil wasn’t offended that he’d practically ignored him. The truth was, he really liked Gil. And there were certainly much worse choices that he could have been partnered with. It was just the shock of dealing with the fact that a significant part of his life had suddenly been changed, maybe forever. He and Roy worked so well together. They had a rhythm that was comfortable and relaxed. Johnny didn’t think that could ever be duplicated. He’d been lucky being partnered with Roy. The possibility that that may be over was unthinkable. I can’t even imagine how Joanne must feel, he thought. He did know, however, how the kids felt. He had lost both his parents as a boy. There had been no greater grief in his life than that.

He stared at Roy’s locker, imagining having to clean it out, then firmly told himself it would never happen. He tied his shoes then went off to start his first shift with his temporary partner.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 Five days later the search was downgraded from ‘rescue’ to ‘body recovery’, and the night search crews were discontinued. Fire Command posts on the island were pulled for more pressing needs. Two more weeks went by with no sign of Roy.

During this time, Johnny continued his own private search of the islands on his days off. The sense of urgency heightened once the Harbor Patrol eased off their recovery efforts, and Gage tirelessly explored the islands both by foot and by boat, armed with photos of Roy that he gave out to the people on the island. He posted many more of them in highly visible spots.

The entire A-shift accompanied him on one early excursion after Johnny convinced them that he needed help in the search. He’d met his first bout of resistance from Chet.

“Johnny, what makes you think that you can find Roy when the Coast Guard, Harbor Patrol and Fire Command can’t?”

Johnny stammered a bit, not really sure how to answer. All he knew was that Roy was out there. He posed the only argument he could think of. “Look, the more people we have looking for Roy, the better chance we have of finding him. We’ve got to make up for the men they’ve pulled off the search.”

At that, all the men had looked around at each other in uncertainty. The desperation on Johnny’s face was sobering. Each and every one of them would have gone above and beyond the call of duty to help Roy, yet each was wondering how, after all this time, Roy could possibly have survived.

Hank made the decision, agreeing with Johnny. He wasn’t going to give up on a member of his team without a fight. “It’s worth a try, isn’t it men?” Captain Stanley appealed to them with outstretched hands, one foot propped up on the running board of the engine. “I’m sure that if any one of us was missing, Roy wouldn’t hesitate to help search. I think we all owe him the same dignity. Don’t you?” He looked at Chet first, then all the men.

“Cap’s right, guys,” Mike said. “Count me in Johnny.”

One by one, each man agreed, including Gil. Chet nodded solemnly while Johnny slumped in relief.

“Thanks guys. I know Joanne will appreciate it.”

Marco pushed away from where he was leaning against the engine. “How is Joanne holding up, Johnny?”

The paramedic shrugged. “About as good as any guy’s wife would be whose husband is missing.” He looked down at the floor. “She’s tryin’ hard just to get through each day. It’s not easy…what with Jimmy bein’ sick and all…”

“How soon is he going to have to have the surgery, John?” Captain Stanley rubbed at his chin.

“I don’t know, Cap. There isn’t enough money yet to pay for it all. That’s another thing…I think we should have another garage sale. I’ll talk to Dr. Brackett about it.”

“Well, keep us posted, all right?”

“Sure Cap.” Johnny went on to make plans on where to meet in the morning after their shift.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The A-shift’s next day’s search of Catalina produced nothing, unless one counted the cold Marco caught and Mike’s case of poison ivy. The men had doubled up in pairs once they got to the island and began their search, armed with a stack of photographs of Roy and a lot of determination.

Gil practically had to beg Johnny to stop for lunch at two o’clock. Then Gage refused to quit looking even after it got dark. They finally met up to compare notes at the ferry dock while waiting for the last boat of the day. The choppy water made Captain Stanley seasick, and the whole crew ended the day disheartened and exhausted. Each swore silently that they’d leave future searching to the Harbor Patrol and Coast Guard. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Johnny refused to give up. He went back out the next day for another search, disheartened that the others couldn’t be convinced not to give up. 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Okay, pull up!” Marco manhandled another section of hose up to the top of the hose rack. He looked down at Chet after he’d hooked the hose over the hanger. “Chet, do you think there’s any chance we’re going to find Roy after all this time?”

Almost four weeks had gone by since Roy disappeared.

Chet wiped a trickle of sweat off his temple with his sleeve. “I don’t know Marco. Johnny sure seems to think he’s still out there somewhere.”

Marco shook his head. “Chet, you know I’d do anything to help find Roy too, but there’s no way he could be alive after all this time.”

“Ya gotta admire Gage’s loyalty.”

“Yeah, but Johnny’s going to have to accept reality sooner or later.”

Chet grabbed the next section of hose and hoisted it up. “Yeah. I know. I just hope he can, Marco.” He stopped, resting his hands on his hips. “But even more than that, I hope he’s right and we’re wrong.”

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Joanne laid her sleeping son down in the basinet in the living room. Slumping to the sofa, she closed her eyes in exhaustion. Eileen had stayed for ten days to help, but now she was gone. The children were at school and the house was quiet. She should have taken that opportunity to nap, but thoughts of the nightmare her life had become plagued her.

A photo on the end table of her and Roy on their wedding day caught her attention, and she reached over and picked up the silver frame. It was a happy picture of the two of them walking down the aisle after the minister had married them, her beautiful white gown flowing and Roy looking so handsome in his dark suit. They were both smiling, her arm locked with his. Tears sprang to her eyes, just like they did every time she looked at a photograph of Roy, or anytime she looked at anything that was Roy’s. Opening the closet was torture; all his clothes still hung there, abandoned, next to hers.

She always thought she’d been prepared to lose Roy some day, having prepped her mind to accept the distinct possibility because of the dangerous job he had. It wasn’t often a firefighter was lost in the line of duty; maybe that’s why deep down inside she thought the odds were with her and that it would never happen to them. Now it had, and she was still in disbelief. She hadn’t seen her husband in nearly a month, and knew that the chances of him being alive were almost nil.

For some reason, Johnny clung to the notion that he was still out there. Sometimes she wondered if he really believed that or if he was just trying to delay the truth so that the impact would be somewhat more diluted. Maybe he thought it was less stressful this way, or maybe he was just trying to protect her and the children. If that was the case, then he had to know that sooner or later they’d have to acknowledge that Roy was gone for good.

God knew she appreciated everything he’d done for her; in fact, if it weren’t for Johnny, she didn’t think she’d have made it through the past weeks. Johnny was her rock, providing a steady dose of reassurance and hope to cling to when everything seemed hopeless and black. He was the only thing that saved her sanity. Maybe it was good that he held such firm belief that Roy was alive, because she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to handle the truth.

But it was hard on the children. They missed their daddy. They wanted him back. Joanne gently tried to prepare them for the possibility that he might have perished on that rescue, yet their father’s best friend steadfastly maintained that he’d be back, and not to give up hope. She hoped that wasn’t doing more damage than good.

Dealing with the daily ache of the loss was overwhelming, and the look in her children’s eyes when they talked about him killed her. How would they ever get along without Roy? Would she ever be able to love another man again someday if he didn’t return? The thought of being with someone else sickened her and she put it out of her mind. But the kids needed a daddy.

It was good that Johnny was around so much. If their dad wasn’t there, he was the next best thing, for Johnny was a link to Roy. It was almost as if part of Roy lived on in Johnny. At least they were comfortable with him, and there had been more than a few times lately that Johnny had been the one to tuck them into bed and kiss them goodnight at the end of the day.

John and Joanne spoke to each other on a daily basis, many times throughout the day. Johnny became her alternate Roy. She didn’t allow herself to think about the difficulties he might be having in coping with Roy’s loss. Her need was so great and his munificence so encompassing that she was too blind to see that it was both physically and emotionally overloading him.

He was equally blind.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“What?!” Gage slammed his coffee cup down on the dayroom table, spilling half its contents. “They can’t do that!” Gage’s eyes were blazing.

Hank Stanley rubbed at his temple, feeling a headache coming on. All the men were staring at him, stunned, each knowing this day was coming, yet not being anywhere near prepared mentally to accept it. Up until now, Johnny’s steadfast belief that Roy was alive had been enough to sustain them, or at least to delay the horrible truth that their brother had given his life on this final rescue. “I’m sorry. But I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do. After this much time – ”

“They can’t call off the search! There’s been no sign of Roy!” Johnny demanded hotly, his voice rising with every syllable.

Hank shook his head. “It’s been four weeks, John. That’s pretty much standard procedure.”

“But he’s still out there! Somewhere…I know he is, Cap! They’re just not looking in the right places – ”

“Captain Pierce said they combed every square inch of water and land for twenty-five miles – ”

“Well it’s not good enough!” Johnny yelled. Fuming, he turned away, waving his arms in anger as he spoke. “I can’t believe those clowns! They obviously don’t know what the hell they’re doing.” He turned, glaring at them all. “Just like the night of that rescue when they left Roy out there in the water! We should have conducted our own search!”

Marco understood how Johnny was feeling, but he knew the Cap was right. “But we did, Johnny, and you’ve been out there countless times and haven’t found anything.”

“That’s because I don’t have all the tools they have. I’m just one man; if I had all the shit they had – the infrared sensors, the night goggles, the radar devices – I bet I could have found him by now.”

Mike brought a dishrag over to the table to wipe up Johnny’s spilled coffee. “Gage, even if he is out there, after four weeks, he couldn’t possibly still be alive – ”

“Bullshit! You can believe that Mike, but I won’t. Roy’s a survivor!” Johnny gaze went in a circle as he scanned each of them. “I can’t believe you guys wanna give up on him!”

“We’re not giving up on him Johnny.” Chet countered.

“You sure could have fooled me,” he snarled. He took a few steps toward the door, then spotted a trash container that someone had left next to the table. 

Hank’s eyes widened as Johnny suddenly turned, drew back his foot, and kicked the metal waste paper basket with a loud “damn it!” With a loud clatter, the can flew across the room, slamming into the kitchen cabinets, spilling all its contents onto the floor. He stormed from the room.

Chet stared after Johnny, his mouth open, then stood up to go after him.

Hank held up his hand. “Let him be.”

Chet glanced from Gil to Marco, then backed off, knowing the Cap’s tone too well to argue.

Stanley looked at his watch. His stiff gait towards the coffee pot and clamped jaw belied his outward calm countenance. Taking his coffee a few steps toward the back door, he stared through its window unseeing for two full minutes, immersed in concentration. He drew the cup to his lips only once before setting it down on the counter, forgotten. He headed through the door to the engine bay.

He found Johnny in the dorm sitting in his locker, his feet propped up on the bench in front of him. Gage turned as his captain pushed through the swinging door.

“John, I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes. In my office.”

Gage hesitated a split second. “Sure Cap.” Oh man, I’m in trouble now. I shouldn’t have lost my cool. Begrudgingly, the paramedic followed his captain into his office.

Hank closed the door. “Sit down.” He gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Johnny sat obediently, his head bent so low his chin almost touched his chest. He lifted his head slightly, glancing up at his captain, trying to prepare for the tongue-lashing he expected to receive.

Stanley took a deep breath, organizing his thoughts. He didn’t want to come down too hard on Johnny, but the time had come to say something. He probably should have had a heart-to-heart talk with all his men weeks ago, but had been putting it off, hopeful that Roy would turn up. Now he regretted not doing so.

An old saying popped into his mind, a watched pot never boils, then he shook it off as ridiculous. Still, he felt he’d let him men down by not attempting to help them deal with their feelings more. I’ve always thought I was a good leader, but I’ve never had to deal with the loss of one of my men before. What words are there that can make this better? For the life of him, he didn’t know. Right now he had a problem to deal with, one that might have been a result of his own lack of attention to the matter.

Hank walked around and sat on the corner of his desk. “John, for the past three or four weeks, ever since Roy’s disappearance, you’ve been short-tempered, distracted, and just plain grouchy. You’ve been late or very close to it a handful of times; I haven’t said anything because it was less than a minute. The point is, your behavior concerns me.”

Johnny looked up at him contritely.

“Having said that, I’ll admit that I would have been a little surprised if I hadn’t seen that kind of behavior from you. We’re all trying to deal with Roy’s dea-…uh, disappearance. And while it hasn’t been easy for any of us, I know it’s been especially hard for you. He was your partner and a close friend. I understand it’s tough. It’s been tough on all of us. God knows I’m having trouble myself accepting it; as tight as our crew is I never thought it possible that I’d lose one of my men. Roy was a good man,” he eyed Johnny meaningfully, “half of what some say was the best paramedic team out there.”

Johnny stared down at his hands, his fingers interlaced as they rested on his lap.

“But right now I’m concerned about you. Between helping Joanne and work and your own personal life you’ve been stretching yourself too thin.”

Johnny looked up, opening his mouth in dispute, but Hank didn’t give him a chance.

He went on. “That’s why I’d like to suggest that you take a little time off.”

Johnny stared in surprise, not expecting that suggestion to come out of his captain’s mouth. Time off. Oh, how nice that would be. Man, I wish I could just take off into the woods for a couple of months and forget about all this. If only I could.

He found himself shaking his head. He had to work every shift he possibly could if he was going to help raise enough money to buy Jimmy that operation. The baby’s door to his ‘golden hour’ could slam shut at any moment, and when that happened, he’d need immediate surgery. The money had to be there. Now Johnny had to think fast to change his captain’s mind.

Hank regarded Johnny as he seemed to be warring with himself. “What, do you disagree?”

Johnny leaned forward, scooting to the edge of his chair. “Yes. Cap, I don’t need any time off.” He glanced away, cutting off eye contact. “As a matter of fact, it’s actually better for me to keep busy, you know? It kind of…keeps my mind off everything.”

Hank sighed. “I see.” He slid off the corner of the desk and walked around behind it, rubbing at his jaw. “I suppose I can understand that, John, but if you continue to load yourself down with too many things it’s just going to increase your stress level. I need you to be no less than one hundred percent on the job. Your life, your patient’s lives, and the lives of those men out there depend on it.”

“I understand, Cap. I will be. You can count on it. I’m not going to let this interfere with my job.”

I think you already have. Stanley stared long and hard at Gage, who met his eyes with equal determination. Then he sat down in his chair. “See that you don’t. Because if you can’t hack it, I’m going to have to take you off duty.” He held his thumb and index finger up illustrating a very small space between them. “I’ve been this close to writing you up, and I’ve held off, because I felt you deserved a little slack. But it’s been a month now. I need you at the top of your game, John. You are probably the most integral member of this team. We can’t afford for you to be anything less.” Hank leaned forward in his chair, laying his forearms on his desk. “My offer still stands, so if you change your mind, let me know.”

Johnny nodded. “I understand. I’ll…let you know if I decide to do that.”

Hank let out a heavy breath through his nose as he considered John’s answer. “Oh, and one more thing: would you please ease up on Gil a little? Your snapping and nitpicking at him could rival Brice.”

Johnny face contorted not only at the comparison of himself to Brice, but at the fact that his behavior toward Gil apparently had been bad enough for the Cap to notice. Or maybe Gil had said something. Either way, he knew he was guilty as charged.

“Gil’s been pretty understanding, but you’re going to give the poor man a complex. He is doing a fair job, is he not?”

“Yeah, he’s been doing an excellent job.”

“Good. You might tell him that.” Even though Hank had already told Gil this very thing himself, he knew that hearing it from Johnny would go a little farther in easing Gil’s discomfort.

“I will. I’m sorry, Cap. I guess I have been a little bit…grumpy lately.” One corner of his mouth turned up in lopsided sheepish smile.

“It’s understandable. Just make sure Gil knows it’s not because of him. I’d hate to see him transfer to another station. You two work really well together.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“All right. Now get outta here. And go pick up that trash that you kicked everywhere.”

“Yes, Sir.” Johnny got up, opened the door, and headed out in search of Gil. He’d get the trash in a minute. The tightness in his shoulders slowly relaxed as he got father away from the Cap’s office.

Hank slumped in his seat, settling his head on top of his folded fingers. Lord, there’s some days when I really hate this job. He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes, suddenly realizing how tired he was. Truth be told, he hadn’t been sleeping too well. Thoughts of his missing man were foremost in his mind every night.

            Roy was a good man. About as straight as they came, his quiet wit balanced some of the other men’s more gregarious personalities. He was just an ordinary guy, yet so extraordinary in many ways. A superb paramedic and firefighter. A loyal friend, loving husband, and father. And dependable. Yep, Desoto was someone you could always count on. He would have gone far in the department, Hank thought. Probably would have made Chief someday. God, what a waste.

It was hard to comprehend that he was gone. Just like that. There one day, gone the next. So strange not having him around the station any more. And already, Gil was fitting in, an appropriate replacement for Roy. Like Roy, he was calm and level-headed, with great promise of being an exemplary paramedic.

Yet things didn’t feel normal any more. The men went about their duties as always, but not with the same amount of enthusiasm they’d had before. The loss was dragging them all down, Gage more than any of them. His loyalty was almost maddening. He keeps insisting that Roy’s alive; does he really believe that, or is he just not able to face it yet? Hank didn’t know, but he was going to have to keep a close eye on him.

Joanne and the kids were also often on Hanks mind these days. Losing Roy was really rough on her. Widowed with two young children and a seriously ill baby. It was enough to break even the strongest person. She called the station at least twice every shift to talk to Gage. Hank couldn’t help but notice the strain on his paramedic’s face every time she called. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so hard on Gage. He’s got an awful lot on his plate. He sighed again. I had to. In this business one slip up could cost the life of a man. I can’t let that happen. I’m already down one man, I’ll be damned if I lose another one. I wish he would have taken me up on the offer for a vacation. Well, if he continues on the way he has been, I’ll have to force him to take time off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Gil hunched over the drug box, scratching at his nose as he examined and memorized its contents for what seemed like the millionth time. Footsteps nearby stopped at his side and he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder.

He looked over to find Gage squatting down next to him beside the squad, a sly smile on his face.

Johnny attempted to break the ice. “You’re not, uh, rearranging the drug box or anything, are you?”

Gil’s brows rose. Now what did I do wrong? “No, of course not,” he said a little defensively. “I wouldn’t do that without your…permission. I’m just making sure I know where everything is. I figured it would cut down on time and avoid any mistakes.”

Johnny’s smile fell away. “Gil, it was a joke. Remember what Roy told you – ”

“Oh.”

“ – about when he worked with Brice – ”

“Uh, yeah, right.”

Johnny sighed and cleared his throat, removing his hand from Gil’s shoulder. “Uh, Gil, um, I’d like to apologize to you.”

Gil turned toward him slightly, surprised.

“Listen, uh, I know I’ve been kind of rough on you, snapping at you a lot and…um…”

“Biting my head off?”

John’s brown eyes were full of remorse. “Yeah. Man, I’m sorry. I’ve just been sort of…,” what was it? He couldn’t come up with the right words. An asshole, maybe? “Um, irritable, you know?”

Gil nodded, looking down. “I understand.”

“It’s not you; you’re doing a great job – ”

“That’s a relief to know.”

Johnny rubbed at his eyes, smoothing his hair back with the palm of his hand. “Yeah; I guess this thing with Roy is kind of getting to me.”

“I think I know how you feel.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” Gil closed the drug box and stood up, storing it in the squad. Johnny rose along side him. “I lost my older brother about three years ago. Died of cancer.”

“Oh. Wow, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just saying I know it isn’t easy. I was pretty messed up for a long time after that.”

Johnny nodded solemnly.

“In my case it helped that I had the chance to say good-bye to him. When someone dies suddenly, it’s…more of a shock I guess. You don’t have time to…get used to it. It just sort of…knocks you down.”

A lump in Gage’s throat started to grow. He knew that feeling quite well.

“It gets easier…as time goes by. You just have to move on and…try to think of the good times.” He shut the doors on the squad and faced John. “I know Roy was a lot like a brother to you.”

Johnny swallowed. “Yeah. Well, hopefully he’s not gone for good.”

Gil stared warily at him for several long moments, debating how to respond to that. “Yeah,” he said uncomfortably.

Johnny nodded, patting Gil on the shoulder once, then walked away. He had some trash to clean up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Kelly, I need to talk to you.” Johnny caught a hold of Chet’s arm as he jumped down from the engine. They’d just returned from a small structure fire and it was almost lunchtime. The rest of the men hurried off to the kitchen to eat.

“What is it, Gage? My stomach is calling.”

“Can we borrow your brother’s boat Wednesday?”

“We? What for?” Chet saw the reason in John’s face almost immediately. His shoulders slumped and he sighed deeply. “Johnny, how many more times are you going to look for Roy?”

“Till I find him.”

“Gage, the Coast Guard couldn’t find him. The Harbor Patrol couldn’t find him. You’re not going to find him either. It’s been over a month! He’s gone, John, don’t you think you need to just accept that?”

“I’m not accepting anything until I find evidence that he’s dead.”

Chet folded his arms across his chest and shook his head.

“Look. Chet. I think he’s still out there. I can’t explain why I know that, I just do. Now, I don’t know where he is. There could be a million different scenarios. Maybe someone on another boat picked him up, or maybe he swam to one of the islands.”

“Don’t you think that if that was the case he would have contacted us by now?”

“Maybe not, Chet. He was hit on the head with the boom. Maybe…he could have amnesia or something. Maybe he’s out there walking around not even knowing who he is.”

Chet rolled his eyes. “Johnny, that only happens on TV.”

“No it doesn’t. I read a story in the paper one time about a guy who just woke up somewhere one day and didn’t know how he got there, and didn’t know who he was. He went on national television in the hopes that someone might recognize him and tell him who he was.”

Chet shifted his weight, looking skeptical.

“Come on, Chet. Please? Look, I’ll do all the work. You just bring your fishing pole and have fun, okay?”

“No…”

Johnny’s face fell.

“…I’ll help you look.”

A huge smile broke out on Johnny’s face. “Great! Thanks, Chet. How about we meet at eight clock?”

“Eight o’clock?!”

“Okay, nine o’clock.”

“All right. Hey, will you bring your new reel?”

Johnny’s smile twisted. “Sure. You can use it.”

“All right.” Chet clasped his hands together. “And bring some sandwiches too.”

Johnny let out a puff of annoyance. “I suppose you want me to bring drinks too.”

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea.”

Gage rolled his eyes. “All right. Sandwiches. Drinks. And my new reel. Anything else, masta?” Johnny put his hands together in prayer position and bowed.

“Yeah. That new tackle box you just got with those cool fishing lures. And some donuts. I get hungry in the morning.”

“God, you want it all, don’t you?”

“Johnny, I didn’t ask you for your first born child. Besides, it’s a small price to pay for the use of a boat for a day.”

“I suppose. Guess I better get out of here before you think of anything else.”

“Oh, I’ll call you if I do.”

“Great.” Johnny left the engine bay and went into the dorm. Five minutes later the squad was called out on a run. The two paramedics missed yet another lunch.

Thirty minutes later, the men, minus John and Gil, were chowing down on chicken salad sandwiches.

Mike spoke with a bite of sandwich tucked into his cheek. “Too bad Gage missed this; it’s one of his favorites.”

Cap peered over the edge of the bowl of chicken salad as Chet scooped more out for himself. “Well if Kelly doesn’t devour it all, we’ll save ‘em some.” He gave Chet an admonishing glance.

“What? I’m hungry.” Begrudgingly, he put most of the spoonful back into the bowl. “Jeez, Mike, you never make enough.”

“Have some more chips.” Marco passed him the bag.

“Thanks, Marco.” He stuffed some potato chips into his mouth. “Hey, Gage and I are going out on Patrick’s boat tomorrow. Anyone else want to come?”

That got everyone’s attention.

“What for? It’s supposed to be cold and rainy tomorrow.” Mike asked.

“Well…I’m going to do some fishing, and…”

“Count me out,” Cap interrupted, reaching for the chips.

“And what?” Marco asked suspiciously. “Don’t tell me Gage has conned you into going out to look for Roy again.”

Chet sighed in exasperation. “Marco, what do you want to do, just give up? Gage thinks he’s still out there.”

“It’s just wishful thinking,” Mike said.

“Look, it’s possible that he was missed. I mean, no one’s found his body.”

“Yeah, but Chet, they found his jacket and life vest.” Marco scooted out from the table and took his plate over to the kitchen counter.

“Right, and they found no damage to either one. And no sign of Roy. Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious?”

“What are you suggesting, Chet? Do you think he was abducted or something? I doubt that would have happened in the middle of a raging storm out on the ocean.”

“Who knows, Cap.” Chet leaned forward, clasping his fingers together on the table. “Roy was hit in the head. What if he’s got amnesia or something? What if he’s out there walking around and doesn’t know who he is? Or worse, maybe he’s injured and can’t remember.”

“Chet, you’ve been watching too much television.”

“Hey, I heard of a real life case where a guy had amnesia. He woke up somewhere one day and didn’t know where or who he was. He went on the national news hoping that someone would recognize him and contact him to tell him who he was.”

“And so what happened?” Marco asked skeptically.

“I don’t know how it turned out.”

“Where’d you hear that story?” Mike asked suspiciously.

Chet looked around uncomfortably. “Gage told me.”

“Figures.”

Kelly stood up defensively. “Look, it wasn’t my idea to go back out and search again. I mean, I’d do anything to get him back, but I know Roy’s probably…gone. I’m just humoring Gage. Besides, he’s letting me use his new fishing reel.”

“Ah, now we have the real motive,” Cap said in disgust.

“No,” Chet said with conviction. “Hey, Roy was my friend too and if there’s a chance...” He looked around at all his skeptical crewmates. “I’m going to help him search too. You guys don’t know. We might find him. Stranger things have happened.”

“Yeah. Like when you were born,” Marco smirked.

Captain Stanley crumpled up the bag of empty potato chips and pitched into the trash can. “Well, I don’t see what harm it can do. Maybe after this John will come to his senses and accept it. Let’s not give him a hard time about it. Look, this has been hard for all of us, but he’s having an even more difficult time with it. If this helps him get past it, then I think Kelly’s doing the right thing.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right, Cap.” Mike took the chicken salad and covered it before putting it in the refrigerator.

“Okay. Well, if you guys change your mind, we’re going out at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“Well good luck.”

Chet eyed Marco disappointedly. “I guess that means you don’t want to go.”

“You guessed right.”

“Mike?”

“Nope. Me and Beth already have plans tomorrow.”

All the men cleared the rest of the lunch items off the table. Hank walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself his third cup of the day. “Does anyone know if Joanne is planning any kind of funeral or memorial service for Roy?”

Marco started washing dishes. “I don’t know, Cap. You could ask Johnny. I think she should.”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll give her a call and talk to her about it. Or better yet, I’ll stop by and see her tomorrow.”

“Good idea.”

“All right. Let’s get back to work. I’ve got some paperwork for all of us to do. Mike, get the table cleaned off and everyone take a seat. This is gonna take a while.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Wow, this is a beauty, Chet.” Johnny squatted down and ran his hand along the port side of the twenty-four foot Sea Ray sport cruiser.

“Yeah. My brother got it used. A friend gave him a sweetheart deal on it.”

“How much did he pay?”

 

“Eighteen thousand.”

Johnny whistled. “I guess he must be doing all right with that bar he owns.”

“Yeah; better than fireman’s pay; that’s for sure. It’s kind of ironic; we go out and save lives every day, and he makes more money getting people drunk.”

Johnny grimaced. “Hmph. I guess that’s what you’d call reverse poetic justice.” His eyes skimmed the length of the boat. “Man. I wish I could afford something like this.”

Chet shrugged. “Sell your horses, man.”

Johnny shook his head slowly and smiled, then his brow furrowed and his smile faded, lost in thought.

Chet went about readying the boat. After a minute, he glanced back and saw Johnny staring out into space, frozen in his spot. “Hey, c’mon man. Help me out. Get your stuff.”

Johnny jerked to attention, then started loading his supplies into the boat. When he had finished, Chet climbed into the helm. Reaching down, Chet withdrew a small box that had been hidden and opened it. Reaching inside, he felt around the collection of nuts and screws and fished out a key from the bottom. He put the key into the ignition and started the motor.

Johnny looked on, incredulous. “You’re kidding me.”

“What?”

“Your brother keeps the key on the boat?”

“Yeah.”

“Someone could steal it!”

“No one’s gonna steal it. They’d never think to look in here.”

“Kelly, that’s the first place I’d look. No, I take that back. I wouldn’t look, because I wouldn’t believe anyone would be stupid enough to keep the key to their boat on board in a box of nuts and screws.”

“See? That’s why it’ll never get stolen.”

Johnny closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“Hey, get the bow line, would you?”

“Okay.” Johnny untied the docking line leading from the bow, then climbed in.

Chet revved the motor a couple of times, then put it in reverse and gunned it.

“Jesus!” Johnny was standing as the boat flew out from under his feet and he fell forward, crashing face down awkwardly onto the floor of the boat.

Chet looked behind him. “Sorry! I always forget how powerful she is.” Immediately he slowed to a wakeless speed.

Johnny clambered to his feet, rubbing at his arm, which had smashed into a pile of gear. “Christ, Kelly; you tryin’ to kill me?”

“Sorry, Johnny.”

Gage clambered into a seat as Chet maneuvered the craft out to sea. When things were going more smoothly, he began to struggle into his diving gear.

The sea air was thick with moisture and the sky threatened rain. A gust of cool wind made Johnny shiver and he was glad he’d be protected with his diving suit. Every once in a while the boat would hit a wake, sending a spray of seawater over the side. It stung Gage’s face, and soon his hair was soaked.

“Hey, ease up, would ya?”

“I thought you were in a hurry,” Chet yelled over his shoulder.

“I’d like to get there alive!”

“Oh. Okay. In that case…” Chet throttled back and slowed the boat down.

“Thank you,” John called. As they got a little further out, Johnny took a pair of binoculars and began scanning the water.

“Hey, hand me the donuts, would ya?” Chet called from his position behind the wheel.

Johnny put the binoculars down, incredulous. “Already? We just got started.”

“I need a sugar fix. C’mon! Hand ‘em over.”

Johnny sighed and reached for the box of donuts. The plastic window on the box was spattered with water that had spilled over the side of the boat and the cardboard was soaked on the bottom. Ugh. What a mess. Serves him right for driving the boat like a maniac. He glanced over at Chet, who was leaning back in the vinyl seat, steering the craft with his wrist. Jeez, it’s a good thing they don’t let him drive the engine.

“Here ya go!” He plopped the soggy box down next to Chet.

“Than – ugh…gross! What’d you do?”

“Nothin’! It’s your erratic driving that got ‘em wet!”

“Well who was the imbecile who put the box on the floor?”

“You.”

“Oh. Well…why didn’t you move ‘em?”

“Chet, just eat the damn things and drive, will ya?”

He heard Chet mutter something but wasn’t able to make it out over the rumble of the boat’s motor. Just as well, he thought.

Soon they were near the spot that Johnny wanted to dive and he instructed Chet to anchor the boat. Johnny pulled his fins, mask, tank and regulator on and got set to go over the side. He looked at his watch. “Okay. I’ll be up in an hour, then we’ll move.”

“All right.” Chet almost wished him good luck, but doing so would have meant that John might find Roy’s body, and as much as he wanted some answers as to Roy’s whereabouts, he wasn’t prepared to help Johnny pull Roy’s bloated dead body out of the water and transport it home. For that matter, he doubted Gage was either. Visions of drowned dead bodies from horror flicks he’d watched flashed in his mind and he shivered. He watched as Johnny backrolled over the side with a splash and disappeared under the surface in a trail of bubbles.

Chet sat there a moment, thinking. Just what would Gage do if he found something? He shuddered to think it and was glad that he wasn’t down there with him. It was too cold anyway. He glanced into the water to see if he could see Johnny, but he’d already disappeared into the murk and foam. Man, it would be spooky diving down there in the dark by yourself. What if he gets into trouble? There’d really be no way I could help him by myself. For the first time, Chet realized that maybe it hadn’t been such a hot idea to let Gage talk him into this. When he’d expressed concern that Johnny shouldn’t be diving alone, Gage assured him that it would be okay, that he was an experienced diver. Now he lamented that they really should have invited a third man along with them in case of emergency. He sighed. I hope he knows what he’s doing. Chet pondered a few moments longer, then threw off his doubts to fate. Whatever happens happens, he decided, then reached for Johnny’s fishing reel.

Johnny surfaced almost exactly sixty minutes from the time he dove and had nothing to report. Chet helped pull him over the side and they moved to another location, where John took his second dive after about a half hour rest. It went on like that for hours when they finally broke for a snack in the middle of the afternoon.

Chet hadn’t caught any fish and was cold and damp, but Johnny wasn’t ready to give up. He’d had enough foresight to bring a large thermos of hot coffee with him, and that served to warm them both. With renewed energy, Johnny continued diving, alternating with moving the boat.

It was late in the day and the light was waning when Johnny burst noisily through the surface without warning, surprising Chet. With a gasp, he tore his mask off, flinging it into the boat, and stayed in the water, his head swiveling back and forth, frantically scanning the surface of the water.

“What is it, John?”

John’s face looked haunted. “Did you see anything?” he asked urgently.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did you see anything out there, like a big boat or something, or a-a-a whale, or…I don’t know!”

“A whale!” Chet shot Johnny a look like he thought he was on drugs. “No! I didn’t see anything. I’ve just been sitting here fishing.”

Johnny continued treading water as he scrutinized the seascape, breathing heavily.

“What did you see?” Chet asked hesitantly.

Johnny gripped the side of the boat. “Help me up.” His voice was strained.

Chet reached a hand down and helped pull Johnny into the boat. The dripping paramedic sat down heavily, his breath coming in quick puffs.

“Well?”

Johnny snatched up the binoculars and held them to his eyes, oblivious to the rivulets of water cascading down his face. He stared hard at the water through the magnifiers, then set them down with a grunt of frustration. “I think I saw something down there.”

Chet’s eyes grew wide with alarm. “What was it?”

“I…I don’t know. It was dark and the water was pretty murky, but I saw this…shape…off in the distance. It was big…it just sort of moved in front of my field of vision for a second, kind of like a big shadow, cutting everything else off. When I started to swim toward it, it just kind of…disappeared. It was like, it was there…then it wasn’t.” Once more he raised the binoculars to his eyes, then slowly lowered them a minute later, shaking his head.

“Johnny, I didn’t see a thing.”

Gage looked incredulous. “Didn’t you feel the waves? It shoved me back probably…twenty feet as it went by.”

The mustached fireman began to look worried. “Well, the waves are already pretty rough. But no, there wasn’t anything.” Chet didn’t want to admit that he really wasn’t paying much attention, that he’d been nodding off as he’d held the reel over the water, waiting to no avail for the fish to bite. But he certainly would have seen a boat had it passed that close.

Johnny frowned, his face troubled. “You sure you didn’t see any big boats?”

“Positive. We’re the only fools stupid enough to be out here in this weather.” It had started to drizzle over an hour ago and Chet was becoming grumpy as he got colder and wetter. He regarded his friend as he struggled to make sense of it. “Maybe it was a sea monster of some kind.”

Johnny threw him a scornful glare. “It wasn’t a sea monster. It seemed more…mechanical.

Chet didn’t know what to think. Maybe Johnny was just tired and starting to see things. “Johnny, maybe you just imagined it. I mean, you’ve been down there all day; sometimes your mind can play tricks on you.”

Gage frowned in irritation and snapped at his accomplice. “I didn’t imagine it. There was something down there.”

Chet held his skeptical gaze a moment, then turned away. “Aye aye, Cap’n.”

Gage sighed. “Okay, get the anchor. Let’s head a little farther west. I want to go back down and try to find whatever it was.”

Now Chet objected. “No. That’s it, Johnny; I’ve had it. I’m cold, and wet, and hungry, and it’s getting dark. I’ve had enough. You’re not going to be able to see anything in the dark anyway. And besides, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to keep diving by yourself. I don’t know how I let you even talk me into this. What if you got into trouble? There would be nothing I could do.”

“Awww…and I didn’t think you cared.”

“I don’t. I just don’t want to take the blame when you end up getting tangled up in some sea kelp and drown or some other calamity occurs that you’re so prone to getting yourself into.”

Truth be told, Chet was a little spooked about this dark ‘thing’ that Johnny supposedly saw, and was anxious to get away from it. Hours out on the choppy water, alone, the skies forebodingly gray around him, had gotten more unnerving by the hour. Without further conversation, Chet pulled in the anchor and started the motor.

Johnny was too tired to argue.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Michaela stretched and craned her neck to look at the clock. Seven-thirty. Rolling back to her side, she pulled the soft covers up over her shoulder and sighed. God it was so nice to have the chance to sleep in – especially together. It would be a perfect day to just stay in bed all morning and cuddle. The corners of her mouth turned upward slightly. And maybe do other things.  Lately, between his schedule and hers, she and Johnny barely saw each other, much less had time for sex.  She glanced at Johnny, laying on his side with his back to her; she could see the slow rise and fall of his shoulder as he breathed. Still asleep.

She was glad he was getting a decent night’s rest for a change. He’d been so exhausted lately; it seemed like half the time he walked around in a daze. Too many overtime shifts, and too much time spent at the DeSoto’s, she thought regretfully. But that wasn’t the only thing robbing his sleep. At least once a week he was having bad dreams. There had been a handful of times that she’d caught him mumbling in his sleep, his frantic tone desperately seeking some unknown solace as he shifted restlessly in bed. Usually he’d settle down, except that one night. She wasn’t even sure if he realized it. She wondered if it was happening at the station.

Blue light sifted through the drawn drapes, allaying the darkness. It was just enough to allow her to see. She studied his back, her eyes raking over his smooth, tan skin. She loved this part of him, firm and lean, just above a perfectly proportioned waistline that supported strong, powerful shoulders, not the physique of a body builder, but muscular just the same. She followed the line of his shoulder over the bulge of his bicep and on down, where his smooth forearm disappeared under the sheet. Her pulse quickened as her gaze traveled from his neck, where thick, unruly dark hair begged to be tousled, and on down to other yummy things that were hidden beneath the covers.    

She couldn’t resist touching him. Reaching out, fingertips gently stroked all those areas, roving, lightly exploring territory that hadn’t been touched in too long a time.

He shivered, slowly coming awake with a soft moan. Reaching back with his hand, he coaxed her closer, enjoying her touch and the intimacy. His breath caught as he felt her taste his shoulder blade, then the soft warmth of her lips as they moved upward to the back of his neck, her hand as it caressed his chest.

Now fully awake, he rolled to his other side to face her, drawing her in close with his arms. Foreheads touched, noses side by side, they lay that way a long time, eyes closed, his fingers now making featherweight trails down her back. His lips slid up to kiss her eyelids, then moved down to her mouth where they remained, the soft kisses eventually growing passionate and urgent. Fully aroused, he rolled on top of her. Her arms circled his neck. Both gasped as he suddenly filled her with himself, their slow, in sync thrusts quickening, both wanting, needing, a release. Soon she was breathing hard and fast, almost crying, she craved it so badly.

The phone rang. A cry of frustration erupted from Michaela’s chest and she clung to him, not wanting to let him go. “Don’t answer it,” she begged.

Hesitating, he forced himself to stop, barely able to control himself. His arms shook as he hovered over her.

“Please,” she begged.

He knew he had to answer it. It could be work. Or Joanne. “I’m sorry…just…hold on,” he slid off of her and reached for the phone by the bedside table.

She let out of cry of anguish. He answered the phone. It was the latter.

Michaela groaned to herself as she overheard the conversation.

“Yeah, Joanne?…What?…No, it’s okay…I was awake…what is it?…why are you crying?…The car?…” He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Oh…that’s right; Eileen’s gone now…and Carla’s at work?…yeah…what time do you have to be there?…” He glanced at the clock. “Okay…of course I will…now just calm down…it’s gonna be okay…all right…just let me throw some clothes on and…no, you didn’t wake me up…really…all right…I’ll be right there. Bye.”

He hung up the phone and turned to Michaela. Even in the dim light the shadows revealed deep disappointment edged with frustration and anger. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I – ”

“What is the problem this time?” It was all she could do not to bite his head off, the disappointment so great.

“Her car won’t start – ”

“And she had to call you at seven-thirty in the morning to tell you that?”

“Jimmy’s not doing very well. She has a doctor’s appointment this morning for him that she can’t miss. She’s got no way to get there.”

“What about Roy’s car?”

“She can’t put the baby carrier in the front seat.”

“She could call a cab.”

“Mick…”

“Oh, my mistake. Why should she call a cab when she’s got you?”

“What do you want me to do?” He threw his arms up in frustration.

“I want you to get back in this bed and make love to me.”

His disappointment was just as great as hers. “Baby, you know I want to. But her appointment’s at eight-thirty. I’ve got to go.”

“Fine. Go.” Michaela fell back on the bed and jerked the covers over her head.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I made some lunch for you.”

A drop of black oil spattered onto his sweaty face. Johnny craned his head forward and saw Joanne’s feet. Grabbing the undercarriage of the car, he slid out from under it. The wheels of the creeper squealed as it rolled. Grease smeared his hands and face. “Uh, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

Joanne stood before him with little Jimmy cuddled against her in his snuggly. “Well, aren’t you hungry? It’s almost two o’clock.”

Johnny’s eyes widened. “Two o’clock?!” He sat up, grabbed a towel, and began wiping his hands. “Guess time flies when you’re having fun.”   

She returned his mirthless smile. “Well, it’s about time you had a break.”

He stood up. “Yeah. I’ve got to call Michaela. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

The corners of her mouth fell a little. “Oh. I guess you’ll be leaving soon then?”

Johnny tossed the towel on Roy’s workbench. “Well, not right away. I’ve got to finish this up first. Then I’ll take it for a test drive.”

Joanne looked slightly relieved. “Okay, well, come on in the house. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Okay.” Johnny followed her out of the garage, stifling a sigh. He wondered what Mick would say when he called. She hadn’t been very happy when he’d left, to say the least.

Spending the morning at the doctor’s office with Joanne and the baby hadn’t exactly been how he’d envisioned his morning, yet he found it impossible to turn Joanne down when she needed him. Now he was finishing up a two-hour job of putting a new battery and spark plugs in his partner’s wife’s station wagon, which had included two trips to the auto parts store. An oil change was needed too, and he’d just started that when Joanne came out. He figured he could let the oil drain out into the pan while he was eating. After all, he was famished, not having had time for breakfast.

He was almost glad that no one answered the phone when he called, not anxious to face Michaela’s wrath. To be fair, she’d been very understanding of all the hours Johnny had spent with Joanne since Roy’s disappearance. Some days she even joined him at the DeSoto’s to watch the children while Johnny took care of things Roy normally did and Jo tended to the baby or ran errands; lately it summated the couple’s infrequent moments together. Between Joanne and the kids, work, the ranch, and his ongoing searches for Roy, Johnny had little time for anything else, including sleep.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Johnny took a bite of the meatloaf sandwich Joanne had prepared for him, chasing it down with a couple potato chips.

Joanne wrapped her hands around the cup of coffee before her and looked at him earnestly. “I thought of something yesterday; I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before.” She looked down. “I guess I’ve just been so…frazzled and upset about everything the last few weeks. But anyway, I followed through with it, and I think it’s the answer to my prayers.”

Johnny looked puzzled. “Well, what is it?”

“Well, I called my insurance company today, while you were working on the car.”

“Insurance company? Why? I thought they’d already said they wouldn’t pay for the baby’s surgery.”

“Not health insurance, Johnny. Life insurance. I’d completely forgotten that Roy had taken out a life insurance policy. I think it could be enough to pay for Jimmy’s operation.” She gazed hopefully at him, so relieved to have thought of this solution. “Not only that, but Roy’s a veteran, and the VA pays a certain amount to the families of deceased veterans. So that should help things too.”

Johnny stopped chewing, his face askance at the suggestion. His eyes wandered away while he thought, slowly chewing up his bite.

“What’s wrong?”

Johnny gulped down a swallow of milk. “Jo, how can you collect life insurance on Roy when it’s not been determined yet that he’s even…deceased?”

Joanne stared at him, frowning. “Johnny, it’s been almost six weeks.” She reached out and touched his forearm. “I know you’ve been trying so hard to find Roy, and I appreciate so much everything you’ve done. You’ve gone above and beyond…but we have to be realistic…I think we can all assume…” she swallowed, and her voice cracked. “…that Roy’s gone.”

Johnny stared at her, speechless.

“I’ve been so paralyzed by everything that I haven’t been able to think straight. But I’ve realized that I’ve got to get a hold of myself and do what’s best for Jimmy – and the kids.” She took a breath. “The woman I talked to said I just needed to get them a copy of Roy’s death certificate and the coroner’s report, and then she’d take care of it.”

Johnny nodded slowly, still processing the unexpected information. “Jo, how are you going to get those? The coroner doesn’t have a…a body…” his voice trailed off.

“I just have to fill out the proper paperwork. And I’ve got the report from the Department and the Coast Guard. Based on their information and the evidence, and the outcome of their searches, I guess that should be enough. That’s what the lady I talked to said.”

Johnny hesitated a long moment before speaking. So certain he was that his best friend was only temporarily misplaced, in his mind, this logic didn’t add up. He shook his head slowly. “But Jo, I don’t think – ”

Joanne heard the opposition in his voice and didn’t dare give him the chance to shoot down her plan. Her voice rose in frustration. “Johnny, there isn’t any time to spare. You know what the doctor said. The only hope for Jimmy is this operation. Somehow I’ve got to arrange for Dr. Lawrence to come here to do the operation. All that’s going to take time – time that Jimmy doesn’t have. I can’t wait any longer.”

As if on cue, the baby started crying. Johnny stared sorrowfully at the infant as he struggled to expel his weak, pitiful cries, his little face turning red as it scrunched up in the effort. He sounds like a sick kitten. His gaze moved to Joanne’s face, her baby’s cries eliciting a pained expression.

Joanne did her best to soothe him, rocking him gently. She carried him around as she prepared a bottle. She looked tired and worn out.

Johnny knew she was right. There just wasn’t enough money yet and this seemed the only hope. I guess when Roy turns up they’ll have to deal with it then. If it’s a way to get money now, then it has to be done. “Maybe you’re right. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to start the process now, and then when Roy is found – ”

Jo’s head snapped up in disbelief.

Her frosty stare stopped his thoughts in their tracks. “Um…yeah…it’s probably a good idea.”

“I don’t have any other choices that I can see.”

Johnny nodded solemnly, as the idea sunk in.

“I’m glad you agree.” Now she bit her lip, as if her next lines were going to be painful. “Johnny, there’s something else I want to discuss with you.”

He stood up and began to carry his plate and glass over to the counter, tipping his milk glass back and emptying it.

“I wondered if…you’d read the eulogy at Roy’s funeral.”

Johnny’s throat closed up and he inhaled the last few drops of milk, causing him to choke. Violent, ragged coughs tore from his chest as he fought to clear it.

Joanne stood up and rushed to help him. “Johnny! Are you all right?”

“Ye – ” His words were cut off by more coughing and the glass clinked noisily as it slipped from his grasp and fell over on the counter. He coughed a few more times, one hand gripping the edge of the counter, the other holding his chest. Finally, he was able to utter some choked words. “Yeah…I’m all right.” Joanne handed him a glass of water. Funny, he thought, why do people always want you to drink water after you’ve just choked on your drink? He took it gratefully anyway, sipping a couple of swallows before dabbing at his eyes with his napkin.

Red, watery eyes focused on Joanne. “Wh - what funeral?”

“Roy’s funeral. I think he deserves one, don’t you? I mean, just because we don’t have his…body…doesn’t mean we shouldn’t honor his life with a funeral.” She returned to her chair, as if her legs couldn’t hold the weight of her body any more.

Johnny worked not to let the mortification show on his face.

She went on before he had a chance to respond. “Hank Stanley stopped by yesterday. He was wondering if I had anything planned yet. I told him I didn’t, so he told me about some of the things the department had done for…for other firefighters who had…passed away.” She took a deep breath and looked down at the floor. It took everything she had not to break down during this conversation. Even so, her voice wavered as the emotions overshadowed the words. “He made a few suggestions, but I wasn’t sure what Roy would have wanted, as far as involving the squad and the engine in the procession, and I wondered, did he ever talk with you about it? Did he ever say what he might have preferred if…”

Talk of Roy’s funeral was too overwhelming, and Johnny interrupted her before she had the chance to paint a more vivid picture for him. “Joanne, ah, don’t you think it’s a little too soon?”

She stared mournfully at him. Her voice was almost a whisper. “How long do you want me to wait?”

“I don’t know. I just seems…we don’t even know the final outcome yet. Roy might still return home.”

Joanne rubbed at her temples with her right hand. Her voice was tired. “Oh, Johnny, as much as we’d both like to believe it…you know that’s not going to happen. If…if Roy was going to return to us, he’d have done it by now.”

Johnny struggled to keep his voice normal through his constricting throat. “You don’t know that for sure. No one knows what’s happened yet.”

“Yes, we do. There were plenty of witnesses. He was hit in the head…knocked off a sailboat into the ocean during a storm. No one has seen him since. Believe me, there’s no one more than me that wants to believe that he could be alive. But no one could survive that. He’s gone, Johnny.”

“Not necessarily, Jo,” he pleaded.

Joanne cradled her head in her hands and spoke tiredly. “Johnny, how can you be so sure when all the facts point otherwise?”

“I don’t know. I’ve just got a feeling…listen, Jo, yesterday I went diving again – ”

She looked up, incredulous. “You went out again?!”

“Yes, but this time I saw something. Something really strange.” He went on to tell her about the peculiar shadow he’d seen. He didn’t do a very good job at explaining it, maybe because he didn’t quite know how to put what he’d seen into words, or maybe because it was more that he couldn’t convey the feeling he felt down there below the surface, but he tried anyway. “Jo, I just can’t help but believe this is connected with Roy’s disappearance.”

“Johnny, you don’t even know what you saw, or if what you saw was real.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“Did Chet see anything?”

“No, but he couldn’t have seen anything under the water.”

Joanne struggled with her emotions. So desperately did she want to believe that this could be a clue as to Roy’s whereabouts, but with equal desperation she realized she couldn’t take much more of Johnny’s insistence of Roy’s existence, when every time he got her hopes up only to have them dashed. She refused to get on that roller coaster ride again. “Johnny, I think you’re just reading something in to something that’s nothing.”

Desperation shone in his eyes as he fought to come up with a way to make her understand.

She pleaded with him. Reaching forward, she molded her hands on top of his. “Johnny, I know now how difficult this is, and you’ve tried so hard to hang on, but…I think you’ve got to let it go.” She couldn’t believe she was actually saying this.

“No. No, not yet. Jo, please. Please. Just wait a little bit longer. Can you do that? Just…take a little more time…to be sure.”

“And what do I tell my children? Johnny, this is killing them. Every day I keep hoping and praying that there’ll be some breakthrough, only to be disappointed at the end of each day, knowing there’s no hope. The children can’t take much more, Johnny. They need to have this resolved one way or another. It’s too hard for them to keep thinking their daddy might be alive somewhere, not knowing where, and then be let down again every single day when he’s not found.”

“I know. I know it’s hard.”

Joanne stared into space, quiet for a long time. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke. “I still can’t believe this is happening.” She turned and looked up at him. “And you know what the worst thing about all this is?”

Johnny shook his head.

“The children, especially Jimmy, they’re so young…when they grow up, they probably won’t even be able to remember…their daddy.” And at that, she lowered her head to the table and began to sob.

A lump expanded in Johnny’s throat until he thought it would choke him. Laying his hand on her shoulder, he closed his eyes and hung his head.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

David Martin sat at his desk sipping his morning coffee, looking over the latest racehorse statistics. His round-shouldered frame leaned forward and he scowled as he squinted at yesterday’s winner, a long shot. After receiving what he’d been promised was a reliable tip, he’d placed his bet on a more sure to win horse, yet with odds that promised a much bigger purse, and lost. Nervous about how he was going to explain the huge deficit to his wife, Betty, he figured he could make it up in the next couple of races. Unfortunately, his salary at American Mutual Insurance was woefully inadequate to support his gambling vice. I gotta find a way to make more money, either that or ask for a raise.

An impatient knock at his open door called attention to his boss standing in the entrance to his office, a folder in hand.

“Mornin’ Will.” Quickly Martin folded the newspaper and set it aside.

“Morning, David.” Will Freidman entered the office and walked to the front of Martin’s desk. At forty-five, his blond hair was about half gray, yet he’d maintained the good looks he’d been blessed with since his high school football days. Tall and slender still, the green eyes behind the wire-framed glasses were sharp but friendly. He was a stark contrast from the shorter, rounder, and younger dark-haired man behind the desk.

Sweeping his eyes over the surface of Martin’s desk, he cringed at the mess of papers strewn across it, which included crumbs from yesterday’s lunch, intermittent ring stains from numerous coffee spills, and an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts. The mess always disgusted him, but the zealous work habits of Martin typically overrode his shortcomings. How does Betty stand him? He wouldn’t last ten minutes with Shirley. He handed David a folder. “Got a claim I want you to check into.”

David pushed his half-moon glasses up from where they rested over a stubby nose. “Oh?” he took the folder, opening it up.

“Yeah. A young widow, husband was a fireman. He died in some sort of water rescue over a month ago. DeSoto’s the name.” Will Freidman pushed some of the papers aside and sat on the edge of Martin’s desk. “Just make sure everything’s on the up and up; his body has not been found. We’ve got incident reports here from the Fire Department and the Coast Guard. It seems kosher, but I want you to make sure before we pay anything out. Debbie told the woman we’d take care of it after we review the case. The wife is going to bring the death certificate and coroner’s report by as soon as she’s got them.”

David thumbed through the pages. “Okay. I’ll go over it with a fine-toothed comb.”

Will slid off the desk. “Let me know if you see anything questionable.”

“Will do, Will.” He laughed at his little pun.

Will didn’t. This was a serious claim. If substantiated, they’d have to pay double indemnity; death by accident doubled the value of the policy. All the details seemed to be in order, yet since no body had been recovered, a careful investigation would need to be made.

While inwardly loathing the man, Friedman knew Martin was the right guy for the job. He loved combing over police reports and interviewing character witnesses. Will sometimes suspected that Martin secretly was a police detective wanna-be.

A panel would ultimately determine the final decision, but Martin was more than capable of completing a preliminary investigation, and was detail oriented. His best trait was that he didn’t trust anyone.

By the end of the day, David Martin had done a good portion of his preliminary homework on the DeSoto claim. He talked via telephone to people at the Coast Guard and the Harbor Patrol, as well as Fire Department Headquarters, reaffirming the facts in the reports. Everything seemed to be ‘kosher’, as his boss put it. But he knew well from years on the job that things were not always as they seemed. He had a suspicious mind by nature, and rare was the time that anyone got away with pulling the rug over David Martin’s eyes. Before American Mutual paid one cent to Mrs. Roy Desoto, he would make sure that the claim was legitimate. That was his job. In this business, one could never be too cautious. He’d seen his share of fraudulent cases, and they most often happened when one would least expect it. In rare instances, sharp investigating prowess led to findings that were less than ethical. Fortunately, there were rewards for those who saved the company money. Unfortunately, there weren’t enough unethical people buying life insurance, in his opinion.

His main objective was to talk personally to everyone who was involved in the disappearance of Roy DeSoto the night of the failed rescue. He had several names in his bag, among them Captain Michael Pierce of the Coast Guard, whom he now had an appointment with, as well as the other members of the Coast Guard who had been on the rescue the night DeSoto had disappeared, and Tyler McCann, of the Harbor Patrol. A Chief McConnike of the Fire Department had advised him to talk to Roy’s partner, a John Gage of Station 51. But before talking to any of them, he wanted to speak to DeSoto’s wife. There he would gain an initial impression of the situation. He decided he would start there the next day.

Part 4