The Thousandth Man

  Part 7

 

 

 

The bleeding finally stopped; Johnny threw the bloody napkins into the McDonald’s bag. Seeing a rest area exit ahead, he took it to stop for a bathroom break. Exiting the car, he staggered up against its side, almost falling back inside the open door.  His legs didn’t seem to want to hold his weight. A deep fatigue had settled in; the combination of the virus attacking him and the stress he was under almost causing a collapse. It startled him and he worried he wouldn’t be able to make the rest of the drive. Maybe if I get some more coffee that’ll keep me going.

 

The bathroom stunk of urine and disinfectant; the dingy blue tile floor below was stained and damp as he trudged over it. After relieving his bladder, he splashed cold water on his face from a rust-stained sink in an effort to wash the blood away and wake himself up. He headed out of the bathroom and into a small attached service building. His head pounded as he purchased a black coffee and sugary donut from a vending machine. As he walked back to his Rover, he took several breaths of cool night air and felt somewhat rejuvenated. Casting a cautious glance around, Johnny didn’t see the LTD, or any other suspicious vehicle for that matter.

 

Nearing his car, he grimaced as he saw the large dent in the front bumper and fender. Oh man. Running his hand along it, he wondered if he could pound it out somehow, then determined it was too large to fix himself. Anger welled up inside of him as he blamed the damage of his beloved Rover on his pursuers. Not for the first time he asked himself how his life had become so complicated. The answer played on his lips but he refused to speak it:  Roy.

 

He settled into the driver’s seat and coughed harshly, causing the coffee to spill over the side of the cup and stain his shirt. Shit! Angry, he went back inside to obtain more napkins, tossing the McDonald’s bag into the trash along the way.

 

Soon Johnny was on the road again, desperately hoping not to have any more interactions with anyone. As the mile markers passed, his driving fell naturally into the rhythm of the road, the few other cars seemed not to pass him. Time dissolved into hours.

 

By two a.m. there were very few other people on the road. Weariness lodged in his bones, the highway monotones lulling him. John turned on the radio for a while, but wasn’t able to get anything but some old country music mixed in with plenty of static. He turned it off.

 

His eyelids began to droop.

 

A blaring horn came and then a dazzle of headlights.

 

He reacted quickly, swerving crazily away from an oncoming truck, then frantically correcting his steering to stay on the road.

 

Moments later, Johnny pulled over, his heart hammering. As adrenalin subsided, panic gave way to profound depletion. His head lolled back in shock, exhaustion, and illness.

 

I can’t make it any further. I’ve got to get off the road.

 

Johnny got out of the car and halfheartedly jogged around it to wake up. When a coughing fit stopped him halfway around, he stayed in one place and began to stretch. When he felt sufficiently alert to drive a bit more, he got back on the road praying he’d find a rest stop soon.

 

He got his wish ten miles later. Pulling off the highway, Johnny entered an almost abandoned truck stop. One semi was parked there, and a pickup truck. Johnny pulled into the most inconspicuous space he could find, rolled up the windows and locked the doors, then crawled to the back of his truck and collapsed.

 

 

 

The sun was setting again when Johnny finally pulled onto his cousin’s property the next evening. The three and a half hours he’d managed to sleep at the truck stop helped initially, but after another twelve hours of driving he felt close to collapse. Johnny wasn’t quite sure how he’d actually managed to make it there without nodding off at the wheel, but supposed it was the combination of loud music, and what seemed like gallons of coffee that kept him going. Now that he had arrived, the exhaustion was consuming, and his cold was at the height of its intensity.

 

Wayne stood at the window wondering when Johnny would get there. He was four hours late, and his cousin was worried. Had he not detected the uneasiness in John’s voice on the phone that John had tried to cover up, he wouldn’t have.

 

At last he spotted the white Land Rover heading down the dirt road and he stepped out onto his porch to greet his cousin. Very slowly, Johnny drove the long path to Wayne’s home and stopped. After a few long moments, the door opened, and Johnny stepped out.

 

“Takoda!” Wayne called with a huge smile, stepping off the porch toward Johnny.

 

Johnny managed a tired smile and a wave.

 

Wayne watched his cousin as he attempted to walk, his smile fading as John’s right toe caught on the back of his other foot and he went down. With an ‘umph’ he hit the dirt, sending up a cloud of dust and a string of cuss words.

 

Wayne hastened toward Johnny to help him up. “You klutz!” he bellowed playfully. “You always could ride better’n you walk…” he stopped mid-sentence when he got a good look at Johnny. His smile immediately faded.

 

Wayne hadn’t seen Johnny since he’d left the reservation nearly fifteen years ago. And while they’d both aged, Wayne never expected to see John looking so haggard. A sheen of sweat covered John’s pale face. An obvious bruise surrounded a small cut on his forehead; John’s attempt to clean away the recent blood flow not completely successful. The smooth young face Wayne remembered of his fifteen-year-old cousin had matured into a harder, much more serious countenance. Wayne suspected the austerity of those chiseled features had more recently deepened due to something that he was not privy to – yet.

 

“Takoda,” his voice was soft now, deeply concerned. Scooping his strong hands under Johnny’s arms, he helped pull his embarrassed cousin to his feet. With a steadying arm around the younger man’s shoulder, he escorted Johnny as he stumbled toward the house.

 

 

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

 

 

It was eight o’clock that evening when Dixie wandered in to the doctor’s lounge for a cup of coffee. Considering the fact that the ER was having a slow night, it was about the only thing that might keep her awake until her shift ended at midnight. She was surprised to see Michaela there, slumped over her own, now cold, cup of coffee. Lost in thought, the dark-haired doctor didn’t even look up until Dixie slid into a seat at the table across from her. 

 

“You look like you could use a warm up.” Her eyes conveyed the friendship she felt.

 

Dixie respected Michaela and had grown to like her as a friend. While she would have never imagined that her favorite paramedic would have hooked up with a doctor, she was glad for the both of them that he had. What was so unlikely yet pleasantly surprising was that not only had a woman doctor been comfortable enough in her own skin to go out with a paramedic, risking what others might judge as to be dating someone ‘below’ her position, but also that it didn’t seem to bother Johnny or threaten his masculinity in the least to be with a woman who had a higher status than him, and who made more money as well. The strong attraction and electricity between them had been evident from the beginning; apparently that had been enough to outweigh the rather backward relationship.

 

Dixie set a fresh hot cup of coffee before her friend, noticing the distressed look on her face. “You look like you just lost your best friend.”

 

Michaela looked up and sighed.

 

“Trouble in paradise?”

 

Michaela found a coffee stain on the table to suddenly be very interesting.

 

Bingo. Leaning back in her chair, Dixie played with the handle on her coffee cup. “Look, Michaela…I don’t mean to pry, but is Johnny okay? He sounded sick on the telephone this morning when he called.”

 

Michaela’s eyes honed in on Dixie. A corner of her mouth turned down. “That’s a loaded question, you know.”

 

The nurse’s eyebrows rose. “You want to talk about it?”

 

The beautiful doctor sighed again. “Oh, Dixie. I don’t know what to think. This whole thing has just gotten so crazy.”

 

She figured that Michaela was referring to Johnny’s pursuit of Roy, but she asked anyway. “What whole thing?”

 

Michaela chewed on her lower lip for a second, then responded. “He got suspended from his job.”

 

Suppressing the alarm bells going on in her head, Dixie kept a poker face. “Why?”

 

Michaela told her about the three reprimands, Hochrader, and most of the whole messy story, at least the Reader’s Digest condensed version she’d gotten from Johnny when he’d called.

 

Dixie sat back, letting that information settle in, while she thought.

 

“That’s not all, Dixie. He’s leaving town for a few days and wants me to stay in a hotel until he comes back. He’s worried for my safety.”

 

Dixie leaned forward, her eyes widening. “Your safety? Why?”

 

Michaela considered how much to reveal. She already knew that the hospital had Johnny under close scrutiny. And he was in enough hot water with the Department without her loading the hospital with further ammunition against him. But she trusted Dixie. And she really needed someone with a level head to talk to. So she told her the little she knew about Johnny hiring the private detective, and his claim that the two of them were being followed.

 

Dixie’s jaw slowly dropped as she absorbed the story. She’d known that whatever Michaela told her would likely be about Roy. Johnny had retreated to another world since his friend had died. But she wasn’t expecting this. It all sounded so incredible. Too incredible. Could Johnny finally be losing it, she wondered.

 

Dixie didn’t want to make unjustified insinuations. She’d known Johnny a long time, and knew that while sometimes he was a bit quirky, he still had his head on straight. But Michaela knew him more intimately. She was also a doctor; she was, or should be astute enough to know if Johnny was imagining the whole thing, or if he was acting rationally. “Michaela…this is pretty unbelievable. What do you think?”

 

Michaela scooted her chair backward and stood up, sweeping her hair back with her hand. Her voice was full of frustration. “Dixie, I don’t know! I’ve been wracking my brain all day to come up with a sensible solution, and I can’t. Johnny never even told me he’d hired a private eye to find Roy! And now I’m supposed to believe that my life might be in danger because we’re both being followed by not only the LA Police Department, but by some other organization, whose identity isn’t known. Johnny’s worried it might be someone dangerous. But who could it be, and why would they be following us? I mean, it’s not hard to figure out why the LA Police would be following Johnny, since they’re hell bent on proving that Roy has faked his death and Johnny is aiding him somehow. But what about these other guys? Does it have to do with Roy? Or could Johnny be involved in something that I don’t know about?”

 

Dixie shook her head. She still couldn’t imagine how the police could possibly believe that fallacy about Roy faking his death. “No. No, I don’t think so, Michaela. I’ve known Johnny a long time. I don’t think he’d be involved in anything questionable.”

 

Michaela paced around the room, stopping at the window to look out into the darkness.

 

“How did Johnny find out he was being followed?”

 

“Apparently the private eye told him.”

 

“Is there any way to confirm that? What if you went to the police and asked them?”

 

“I doubt they would be honest with me after the way they’ve treated Johnny. They’re already convinced he’s being dishonest about Roy. They don’t trust him. They’re just waiting for him to do something they can convict him of.”

 

“What about talking to this private eye?”

 

“Johnny didn’t say who he was, and he’s probably already left town by now.”

 

“Where did he go?”

 

Michaela hesitated. “Back home, to Montana. He had some…personal business to attend to.” Johnny hadn’t given her a complete explanation of why he was leaving except to say he needed to see his cousin, but she had her suspicions. While at work she hadn’t had the time to question him about it, which had been exasperating.

 

“When will he be back?”

 

“A few days, he said.” Wearily, Michaela walked back over to the table and sat down. She rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hands. “Dixie, I’m so tired of all this. I feel like I don’t even know Johnny any more.”

 

“It does seem like he’s changed since Roy died.”

 

“Changed is right.” Michaela leaned her elbows on the table and interlaced her fingers. “You know, I really admired him for the devotion he showed Roy. I’ve never seen anyone as loyal to a friend as he has been.”

 

Dixie nodded in agreement.

 

Michaela looked meaningfully at the nurse. “You wouldn’t believe everything he’s done for Roy’s family. I…can’t even tell you. But he’s got this obsession with finding out what happened to Roy.” Michaela leaned forward, her elbows on the table. “The newest development is…he’s met some gypsy or fortune teller, or whatever, who he thinks is going to tell him where to find him.”

 

Dixie looked away uncomfortably. “Yes, he mentioned that recently.”

 

“I know it sounds crazy.” she said from the corner of her mouth, then looked back at her companion. “Dixie, when he’s not involved in searching for Roy, he’s working. He’s put in an incredible amount of overtime hours. The man is exhausted all the time, and he’s irritable – all we do is argue any more. And yes, he is sick. Caught some kind of cold or something from a patient. I tried to convince him to stay home and rest, but he wouldn’t.” Her gaze dropped to the table as her head hung down. There was a long pause and she finally said, “Dixie…I’m afraid I’m losing him. Maybe we all are.” Michaela blinked rapidly in an attempt to keep her emotions stable. She felt a hand softly cover hers and looked up to see Dixie’s very concerned, yet sympathetic face.

 

Dixie squeezed the hand under her own. “You want to know what I think?”

 

“Yes.” The woman looked relieved to be offered a solution.

 

“I think the both of you have been working too hard. You’ve both been under a tremendous amount of stress. You know, maybe Johnny’s being suspended is a good thing. It’ll force him to take time off and rest.” She cocked her head at Michaela. “When Johnny gets back, why don’t the two of you go somewhere together? Somewhere where you can both recharge and relax. Maybe things will ease up then.”

 

“Oh, Dixie, you don’t know how wonderful that sounds. But we can’t afford it. Johnny’s spent every last dime on – ” Michaela stopped abruptly, catching herself before she revealed Johnny’s secret. “We just don’t have the money to spare.”

 

Dixie smiled wryly at the doctor. “Funny, but I’ve always heard that Johnny was a bit…frugal.” She’d stopped herself from using the word, ‘tightwad’. “What has he spent all your money on?”

 

Michaela looked somberly at Dixie and shook her head. “I can’t tell you; it’s personal. It doesn’t matter anyway, a trip away won’t be happening.”

 

“Who said it had to be expensive? Johnny loves to camp. Why don’t you put the tent in the car and go escape to the mountains?”

 

Michaela raised her head, shaking it. “Any other time, I’d say you had a wonderful idea. But Johnny’ll never want to spare the time away from looking for Roy.”

 

“He’s doing it right now, isn’t he?”

 

“Yes…but only because he had something he had to take care of. When he returns, he’ll be right back where he was. I don’t know what to do,” she added tiredly.

 

Dixie sighed, understanding how frustrated Michaela must be. Her story had been almost identical to the one Gil had given her about Johnny weeks ago. Apparently nothing had changed. Resting her cheek on her raised fist, she looked seriously at the woman across from her. “I think you’ve got to look at this logically. From what you’ve told me and from what I’ve seen, I’ve come to the conclusion that there are two possibilities here.”

 

“Okay. Maybe a little logic would be helpful right now. I think my brain is just too clouded with emotion to make sense of it all.”

 

“All right. So here it is in a nutshell.” Now she spoke slowly and deliberately. “Either Johnny is right, and there is something wacky going on involving Roy’s disappearance, and all this business about you both being followed is right on and possibly dangerous. In that case, you might just have something frightening to worry about.”

 

Michaela stared at her intensely, her face apprehensive.

 

Dixie paused, considering what she was going to say next.

 

“Go on,” Mick prompted.

 

“Or…Johnny’s imagining the whole thing and can’t accept the reality of Roy’s death. Which means he’s not in his right mind, and which also means he should have a psychiatric evaluation and treatment. If that’s the case, then we both know he shouldn’t be working, as it could be a danger to himself or others.”

 

Michaela looked sickened. “Gee, thanks for clarifying that, Dixie. I feel so much better now.”

 

Dixie grimaced. “I know. Both scenarios are lousy.”

 

“That’s putting it lightly.”

 

“But the question is, which is it? Is it possible that Johnny’s…unbalanced? Or is everything he’s saying and doing warranted?”

 

Mick looked hard at Dixie for a long time before she responded. “He’s not imbalanced.” But even as she said it, she wasn’t totally sure.

 

“Okay,” Dixie said softly. “Then I think you’d better heed Johnny’s warning. But instead of staying in a hotel, why don’t you come stay with me?”

 

Mick looked surprised. “Oh Dixie, that’s so sweet of you. But I couldn’t impose.”

 

“Impose? Who’s imposing? I’d love some female company for a few days. Having a live person to talk to instead of the TV would be quite refreshing.”

 

Michaela smiled. “I appreciate your offer. But…I’ve got to take care of the dogs. And besides, they’ll protect me. Denali’s a pretty imposing figure.”

 

“Maybe so. But three dogs are no match for a gun.”

 

“Don’t say that; you’re beginning to scaring me.”

 

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Anyway, think about it.” Dixie slowly got up. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Dixie walked toward the door.

 

“Uh, Dixie?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I’d really appreciate it if you kept this conversation between us – woman to woman, you know?”

 

“If you mean not to say anything to Kel about it, then of course, I won’t betray your confidences.” He face turned more serious then. “But just so you know, he’s been quite concerned about Johnny lately – ”

 

“Yes, I know he’s concerned about the reputation of the hospital – ”

 

“It’s not just that, Michaela. He’s concerned about John’s state of mind,” especially after that outburst he had in the ER the other day. “I should warn you that should he see evidence that Johnny’s mental state is unsteady, he’ll take him off paramedic duty so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

 

Michaela’s voice was very quiet. “I know that.”

 

Dixie’s voice grew softer. “And you know it’s what he has to do, for everyone’s safety.”

 

“Yes. I know. But I don’t think it’ll come to that.”

 

“Let’s just hope we’re wrong about both scenarios. And let me know if you change your mind about staying with me.”

 

“I will.”

 

Dixie left.

 

 

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

 

 

The transaction went smoothly. After a thorough inspection of his property and a meeting with an appraiser the following day, John and Wayne agreed on a fair price. Wayne had already taken care of the paperwork several days ago. Being friends with the bank manager had its advantages; the loan was approved before Johnny’s arrival, and funds were transferred without delay.

 

Had it not been for Wayne’s wife, Dena, who’d forced Johnny to bed the moment he’d set foot in their house, he probably wouldn’t have had the strength to stand up the next day. The old ways of healing had filled him with a comfort he hadn’t felt since the last time his mother had nursed him from some ailment as a boy. He willingly succumbed to Dena’s course of ancient Indian remedies, despite their foul taste. Her delicious stew for dinner that night made up for it. After a better night’s sleep than he’d had in a long time, the headache had diminished to a dull thud, and he thought his cough wasn’t quite as bad.

 

Though neither Wayne nor Dena had been able to convince Johnny to stay another day, she’d made sure to supply him with enough remedy to get him home.

 

Johnny walked out of the bank relieved to know that at that moment, the money for the baby’s surgery was once again being wired anonymously to the hospital. With it would be a guarantee for the remaining cost of the surgery to arrive within a few days, once the house sale was complete. Hopefully that would be enough to start the process rolling.

 

Across the street, a neatly dressed man emerged from a small café, holding a fresh cup of coffee in a styrofoam cup. The silver-haired fellow slid with ease into his black S-class Mercedes, relishing in the feel of the supple leather. Just like on the trip there, Johnny never noticed him, yet he had been there the whole time. That was probably because the man had been able to follow him easily from several miles behind to avoid being detected. The tiny tracking device attached to the underside of Gage’s auto transmitted a clear signal to a small screen clipped to the dashboard of the Mercedes. It dismounted easily and folded neatly into the attaché case sitting on the front seat. The man smiled at the technology that only his organization was privy to. He waited for Gage to leave, waited five minutes, then went into the bank. There would be no problem getting the information he wanted, given his credentials. This assignment was almost too easy.

 

 

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

 

 

Don Fahey’s Pall Mall fell from between his lips and into his coffee cup as his mouth dropped open in incredulity. “You what?!” he yelled, as he sprang from his seat in rage.

 

Two of his best undercover agents involuntarily shrank backward as they informed him they’d lost Gage on his way out of town. That wasn’t all. The listening devices they’d planted on Gage’s telephone and in his home seemed to be malfunctioning.

 

It was too much. After what he deemed was a weak explanation Fahey ordered them out of the room before he acted on his temptation to pull out his gun and shoot them.

 

He crumpled up a piece paper on his desk and hurled it disgustedly across the room. It hit the wall and fell just short of the trashcan.

 

His old metal swivel chair squeaked in protest as he angrily dropped back into it. He rubbed his eyes, considering what his next step might be. As bad as this new news was, it paled compared to a new set of circumstances. He’d recently been informed that John Gage was being shadowed by someone else, an unidentified source much more discreet than themselves, and Fahey had no idea who it was, or why they were following him.

 

As recently as a week ago he’d been ready to throw in the towel on the Gage/DeSoto investigation. Every lead had led to a brick wall, and it appeared that Gage was indeed on the up and up. The mystery sale of Gage’s horses still baffled him, yet he hadn’t been able to connect a money trail to DeSoto in any way. As a matter of fact, the money had seemed to just disappear into thin air. If Gage was hiding it somewhere, he was doing a good job of it.

 

His cousin Chet had dried up as a source as well. The stubborn Irishman had nothing to offer, and whether he knew anything or not, he wasn’t saying. The entire investigation had just seemed to evaporate. Don had actually been relieved to be ready to close the case; now he couldn’t.

 

Why someone else would be following the paramedic he couldn’t fathom. The only possible conclusion was that Gage was involved in something that Fahey knew nothing about. Whether it involved Desoto was a mystery, yet Don reasoned that it had to. Nothing else extraordinary about Gage’s life existed before Desoto’s disappearance. Somehow they had to be connected.

 

Now two of his top men had botched the investigation. Not only had they lost Gage in a wild chase through some rugged terrain, but they had admitted that Gage might have been on to them even before that, recanting the visit with the PI and his obvious acknowledgement of their presence. That would explain why the listening devices no longer functioned.

 

Fahey rubbed his temples as a headache pulsed. He would have to learn to control his temper better to avoid the pounding that always followed a reprimand. If he could just keep his voice steady instead of screaming when he got upset. But his exasperation always got the best of him. It was just so damn frustrating to have incompetent imbeciles working for him.

 

Maybe he should have done the job himself. Or maybe he should just retire. The job was becoming more and more of an albatross around his neck than anything else. But it was a paycheck. Only ten more years and he and his wife could take their boat out and never come back.

 

 

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

 

 

Johnny took two full days to drive home from Wayne’s. Getting home wasn’t nearly as urgent as getting there, and he stopped for sleep at the end of the first day of driving. Despite the fact that his cold had improved, it would have been stupid to break his neck getting home quickly and chance falling asleep at the wheel. Nothing urgent awaited him at home anyway; he wouldn’t be able to go back to work for almost another week.

 

Paranoia over being followed kept him alert during the trip. Several vehicles became suspect, but each eventually took another route. Twice Johnny exited the highway, waited ten minutes then reentered. He did not see the allegedly guilty drivers appear again.

 

When he pulled into his drive at seven-thirty that evening, he was shocked to see Michaela’s car. He had tried to call her several times during his absence but she’d never answered the phone at home. At first he’d feared something terrible had happened to her and felt almost overwhelmingly anxious, but when he called the hospital they confirmed her presence, although she had been unavailable to talk to him.

 

Knowing she was safe had calmed him. Expecting her to be at work again tonight, he wasn’t ready to see her. The conversation he knew he had to have with her was suddenly upon him sooner than he was prepared for.

 

She rose from the sofa when he entered. She stood in shadow; only one small lamp in the corner of the room was lit. A half empty glass of wine sat on the table. It was as if she had been sitting there waiting for him. 

 

Johnny walked in, smiled a tired greeting at her. The relief in seeing her safe overcame him, and he went to her, gathered her up in his arms, and hugged her. It felt so good to hold her.

 

“It’s good to see you,” he murmured. His hand caressed her long locks.

 

“Yes. We do so little of that any more.” Rather stiffly, she pulled away from him.

 

Johnny looked at her. “What?”

 

“See each other.”

 

He looked down at his shoes ruefully. “I know. I’m sorry.”

 

She closed her eyes briefly, then walked over and picked up her wine glass, taking a sip from it. She looked at him accusingly, her eyes bleak. “You sold it, didn’t you?”

 

Johnny averted his eyes without speaking, his shoulders slouched in exhaustion and defeat.

 

“Your land. You sold it. For the baby. Didn’t you?” Her voice was steady. Sad. Knowing.

 

Johnny inhaled slowly, then exhaled. A miserable knot in his chest was forming.

 

She switched gears momentarily, in an attempt to keep a reign on her building temper. “Jimmy had his surgery today.”

 

John straightened in surprise. “Already,” he whispered. He looked at her pleadingly. “And?”

 

“He’s doing well. They’re hopeful for a full recovery.”

 

Johnny’s shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes. “Thank God.”

 

“No. Thanks to you,” she corrected. Her voice was thin, edgy. She waited a moment for him to respond but he didn’t. “You didn’t answer my question. About your land.”

 

He looked at her unhappily, knowing there was no way to ease the unpleasantness that was to come. An immense sadness came over him. “Yes. I sold it.”

 

She nodded stiffly. There was a long silence between them before she spoke again. “What’s next? Your soul?”

 

He heard the tightly controlled fury in her voice and couldn’t stop the anger that rose within him. His jaw tightened defensively. “If need be.”

 

She looked at him hard, betrayal in her eyes. The tone of her voice escalated. “Or maybe just…our home?”

 

He froze, guilt flooding his features. How had she found out?

 

“The Wyatt’s called while you were gone. They said all the paperwork is ready for the closing on Friday. They’ll have a check for you then.” Her words were clipped, barely controlled.

 

Shit. He stood staring at her, trying to figure out a way to make this sound right. This isn’t the way he’d wanted things to go. He’d wanted a chance to explain things to her. Now everything was all messed up. “Michaela – ”

 

“Do you care to explain to me…why the fuck you sold our home without telling me?!” The end of her sentence escalated into a shout.

 

He’d hoped to somehow avoid it, but her Brazilian wrath was upon him anyway. He took a step toward her, hands outstretched, his voice desperate. “It was the only way. It was the only thing I could think of to raise enough money for Jimmy’s surgery.”

 

“Did you ever consider discussing it with me first?!”

 

He didn’t think he’d ever seen her this furious. “Yes, I did. I didn’t because I knew you’d never agree with it.”

 

“You knew I’d never agree with it, yet you did it anyway!”

 

“Yes. I had no choice.”

 

“Yes, you did have a choice! You could have treated me as an equal partner and included me in your decision!”

 

“Michaela, it’s MY home! If I want to sell it – ”

 

Her mouth opened and her eyes widened in shock and indignity. “And YOU asked me to live here with you. That makes it MY home too!”

 

Johnny felt he had to defend himself. “What else could I do? Let Jimmy die? I didn’t see anyone else coming forward offering to pay for his surgery!”

 

“You could have TALKED to me! Maybe together we could have worked out a solution! But no, you just made the decision by yourself to throw me out of my own home without even telling me!” Michaela paced around the room. “What’s going to be next, Johnny? You don’t have anything left to sell, except maybe your body! Maybe you should just prostitute yourself out next time because God knows that something else will come up and Joanne DeSoto will be there again holding out her hand!”

 

“Joanne doesn’t know anything about where the money came from and you know it! She hasn’t asked for anything!”

 

“Yeah, including your friendship. After everything you’ve done for her - she won’t even talk to you! And yet you keep giving to that woman!”

 

“Look, she’s had a rough time.”

 

“So have you!”

 

Johnny bowed his head and looked at the floor. He was so tired.

 

“Look Johnny, I’ve tried to be patient. For three and a half months I’ve tried to be understanding and patient while you worked yourself into oblivion, then spent every spare second of your free time searching for your dead partner. When you’re not doing that, you’re doing something for Joanne or her kids. How long is it going to last, John? Huh?”

 

John’s eyes went wide. “I don’t believe it! You’re jealous of Joanne?”

 

“No! I’m not jealous of Joanne! For some crazy reason I thought that when you asked me to live with you that you wanted a serious relationship with me! I THOUGHT that we might be spending some time together!”

 

“I can’t help what happened with Roy!” He stopped abruptly, his heart sinking as he realized that yes, he could have helped it. If he’d have just argued with Roy at the time, insisted of being the one to stay on the boat, none of this would be happening right now.

 

“I know that! But it’s been almost four months! He’s gone! You can look for him until you’re blue in the face and you’re not going to find him! Is it too much to ask to spend just a few hours with you?”

 

Johnny didn’t know how to answer. His stomach was in knots.

 

She stared at him. “I guess it is.” She turned away, once again snatching up her wine glass. “And so what happens now? Where the hell are we going to live? The street?”

 

Johnny looked up at her, a terrible sorrowful regret in his eyes. “I’ve arranged…there’s an apartment ready for you at the old place where you used to live. The movers will be here Friday to move your things back there.”

 

Michaela’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “My things?” She stared at him, stunned. “What are you saying?”

 

The next sentence killed him. “Michaela…I think we need to be apart for a while.”

 

“Apart,” she repeated incredulously. She stared at him, her eyes glittering with a mix of disbelief and fear.

 

God he hated the way she was looking at him. The hurt and betrayal may as well have been a white hot poker thrust into his heart. “Michaela, it’s not safe. The best thing you can do right now is to stay as far away from me as possible.”

 

“This is insanity,” she whispered.

 

“You’re right. It is. That’s why I don’t want you involved in it.”  His stomach tightened further as he added, “Or me either. Not until this is over and I find out who’s following me. I don’t know who these guys are or what they want. It’s too dangerous. If anything happened to you I’d – ”

 

Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh my God. You’ve had this whole thing planned, haven’t you? You’ve known for weeks you wanted to break up.”

 

He was shaking his head.

 

“Well believe me, Johnny, I’m not like the other dim bulbs you’ve dated. You didn’t have to come up with such an elaborate plan to get rid of me! I’m not that dense!”

 

Exasperated, he retorted, “I’m not trying to get rid of you! I’m trying to keep you safe!”

 

“Oh, give me a break, Johnny. You expect me to buy that?”

 

“I’m not kidding, Mick!” He strode over to his desk drawer and pulled out two of the listening devices that had been hidden in his house. He thrust them under her nose. “Do you know what these are? They’re bugs! There were a dozen of these things in the house – in the phones and under tables and stuff. Do you think I imagined them?”

 

She stared at the devices uncertainly while her weight shifted from one leg to the other.

 

He pulled the hair on his forehead up revealing the cut and bruised area. “You see this? I got in an accident on the way to Montana because two goons were following me! I ran into a tree trying to lose them. You think that was part of a plan to get rid of you too?”

 

That got her attention. The natural instinct to make sure he was all right overrode her anger for a moment. She reached for his face, brushing his hair aside to examine the bruise. “Let me see it.”

 

Her face was close to his. He wanted her so badly but knew he had to give her up. He also knew that once he pushed her from his life he’d be totally alone, totally isolated from everyone. Everyone else had abandoned him, and now he was doing it to her. Resisting the urge to wrap his arms around her and never let go was excruciating. Enjoying one last moment of closeness, Johnny let her briefly inspect the bump, then pulled away. “It’s okay. It’s just a bruise. But you’ve got to realize how serious this is, Mick.”

 

“I don’t know what to think any more.”

 

“You don’t need to think about anything. You just need to get away from me. You’ll be safer, and so will your career.” He hadn’t meant to say anything about her career; it just slipped out.

 

“My career? What the hell has that got to do with anythi – ” She stopped abruptly as the wheels in her mind turned. A sickening realization came that answered the question for her.

 

Their eyes met in understanding. He knew. In that instant, she knew he’d heard what Brackett had said to her. That day came back to her vividly. The nurse that came to her right after her conversation with Kel. ‘Dr. Marcantonio. Did Mr. Gage find you?’

 

Mick frowned. ‘He was here?’

 

The nurse nodded. ‘Just a few minutes ago. I told him I thought you were in a meeting with Dr. Brackett; I'd seen you talking down the hall. I guess he didn't want to interrupt.’

 

‘I suppose not. Thank you.’

 

Remorse washed over her face. “Oh shit. You heard Brackett.”

 

“Yeah. I heard Brackett, that son-of-a-bitch. And I won’t be the cause of your downfall.”

 

“You’re not. I’ve got it under control.”

 

“Funny, it didn’t sound that way to me.”

 

“Nothing is going to happen. He’s on our side.”

 

“Right. Forgive me if I don’t hold a lot of confidence in your assuredness.”

 

“And what about your career? Don’t you care about that?”

 

“I still have a job.”

 

“Barely.”

 

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

 

Michaela’s arms raised, then slapped against her sides in a gesture of futility. “Yeah. That’s why you just got suspended for two weeks, because you’re handling things so well.” Her eyes bore into his. “Do you know what you’re doing? You’re throwing your life away.” She looked at him in desperation and sadness, knowing it was over between them. “Everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve attained, including me, you’ve thrown away.”

 

He shook his head. “It’s only temporary. As soon as this thing is all worked out – ”

 

“Damn it! It’ll NEVER be worked out, Johnny! Don’t you see that? You won’t rest until you find Roy, and you never will. And you’ll keep letting Joanne DeSoto use you while you beat your head against the wall, never quite able to live up to what she wants you to be, because of your guilt. And you’ll end up killing yourself over it. Well I don’t intend to be around to help you pick up the pieces of your life after you’ve destroyed it!  I can’t take it anymore, and I can’t watch any more, Johnny! I haven’t been a part of your life for a long time anyway.”

 

An overwhelming loss and sadness threatened to overcome her; anger being the only thing that kept her from falling apart. She was losing the one thing in her life she loved more than anything else and she felt powerless to stop it, had felt powerless for weeks. Now her worst fear was coming true. Finding true love had been something she’d once feared she’d never find, now she’d found it and was losing it. It was almost too much to bear.

 

Johnny felt the same way. But they were at an impasse. His stomach was churning; he felt hot and sick, the realization of losing her now settling to the core of his soul. He felt ill as he watched her retreat into their bedroom. Moments later, she emerged with a small suitcase, grabbed her purse, and headed for the door.

 

He looked at her pleadingly, but did not speak. She stalled for a moment at the door, throwing a backward glance at him. When he said nothing, she opened the door and left.

 

Johnny stood staring at the door for a long time in stunned disbelief. He heard her car start, then descend the driveway. Soon, the sound faded into the darkness. He sank down onto his sofa and buried his face in his hands.

 

 

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

 

 

Mike Morton had never planned on eavesdropping. He’d simply been leaning against the wall filling out paperwork on his clipboard, minding his own business when he’d heard two female voices approaching around the corner. Had they not stopped just short of turning it, he wouldn’t have overheard their conversation. Loathing gossip, he tried to keep his mind on his paperwork and ignore it, but the nature of the conversation made that very difficult.

 

“…so I was wondering if I could still take you up on that offer of staying with you a couple of days?” Michaela Marcantonio.

 

“Of course. Johnny’s not back yet?” Dixie McCall.

 

A hesitation. “Yes. He’s back.”

 

“Oh.” Dixie paused. “How did it go between you two?”

 

“Not well.”

 

Dixie grimaced. “So I take it that means he turned down your idea of getting away together?”

 

“You could say that.” Michaela sighed deeply. Several moments passed before she spoke, and when she did her voice broke. “Actually, we broke up.”

 

Dixie was stunned. “Why?” she asked gently.

 

Michaela inhaled, trying to calm herself. “A couple of reasons. One, he feels it’s dangerous for me to be with him. His private detective found a bunch of listening devices in our house, on the telephones and whatnot.”

 

Dixie’s mouth dropped open. Around the corner, Mike’s eyes shifted uneasily away from his paperwork.

 

“Johnny’s certain that he’s being followed; on his trip he got into an accident trying to get away from one of them.”

 

Dixie’s eyebrows shot up in concern. “Is he all right?”

 

“Yes. He said he was. He had a small contusion on his forehead – it looked inconsequential.” But I really didn’t check…

 

“Who followed him? Police?”

 

“He wasn’t sure…it could have been those other guys…he’s really scared, Dixie. He said the best thing I can do right now is to get as far away as possible from him…until it all blows over.”

 

Private detective? Listening devices? Johnny being followed?! Mike was no longer able to ignore the conversation. He stood in astonishment, the pen in his hand still poised over his clipboard papers. Part of him wanted to intervene, but a stronger part said his interference would likely be unwelcome, and the eavesdropping unappreciated. He stood rooted to his spot, too flabbergasted to move.

 

Michaela bowed her head, rubbing the back of her neck.

 

“Well I can certainly understand him wanting to protect you. What’s the other reason?”

 

Michaela’s face was pained when she looked back up. “He’s worried that my involvement with him is jeopardizing my career.”

 

“That’s ridiculous,” Dixie said defensively.

 

Mick’s tone was sad, but there was anger in her eyes. “No, unfortunately it’s not.” Absently she pulled her stethoscope from her neck and began handling it. “You see, he overheard a conversation between Dr. Brackett and myself one day not long ago. Kel…mentioned that Admin was nervous about the investigation into Roy’s death with regard to Johnny’s involvement, and was concerned about any backlash to the ER because of its attachment to the paramedic program. They’re ‘uncomfortable’ with my involvement with John. Kel more or less told me that it could hurt my career, and to be prepared. He told me there’s a proposal to remove me from the residency program if the investigation continues to move negatively toward Johnny. They could arrange for me to resume my residency…out of state.”

 

“I don’t believe it.” Dixie was incensed. “They can’t do that!”

 

The same exact thought ran through Mike Morton’s mind.

 

“Kel said he’d fight against it, but there might not be anything he can do. Johnny said he doesn’t want to be the cause of my downfall.”

 

Dixie stared at Michaela in frustration and anger. “Well that just isn’t fair. I’m going to talk to Kel.”

 

“No, don’t. I don’t think there’s anything you can do. And I don’t want your name smeared by getting involved in this mess.”

 

“That’ll be my problem.”

 

“No, please, Dixie. It doesn’t matter now anyway. Johnny and I are history. I’m sure once they find that out, that’ll probably be enough to satisfy them.”

 

“But I thought the separation was only temporary.”

 

“No. It’s not.” Mick sighed, wanting to confide in someone. But she’d made a promise to Johnny absolutely not to tell anyone about his selling off of his assets for the baby. So she couldn’t tell Dixie he’d sold the house. She looked into Dixie’s blue eyes in desolation.  “He…well, he arranged for me to move out without even discussing it with me. He even contacted my old landlord and obtained a lease for me. I have to be out Friday! We got into an argument…and I lost my temper. I’d just had it, you know? I mean, so much has happened over the past three months. I just couldn’t take any more; it was like, this was the last straw.” Michaela looked forlornly at Dixie. “He’s not the same guy I fell in love with. I mean, I still love him, but it’s like…he’s possessed.”

 

Dixie could only feel sad that Roy’s death had caused so many unfortunate things. A moment later, Dixie was summoned over the intercom. Offering a supportive smile, she squeezed Michaela’s arm. “You’re more than welcome to stay with me as long as you need to. Come see me after your shift and I’ll give you the key to my place.” With that, she turned, heading toward the nurse’s station.

 

When she rounded the corner, no one was there. Mike was gone

 

 

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

 

 

Joanne reached a gloved hand into the life support incubator her son lay in, prodding his little hand with her finger. The tiny digits stirred, slowly wrapping themselves around Joanne’s index finger.

 

Tears welled in her eyes as she beheld her son, along with all the wires and medical equipment attached to him, supporting him. But they weren’t tears of sadness; they were tears of joy. Dr. Lawrence had cautiously told her that little Jimmy would likely be home for Christmas, and if everything continued on the current path, there would be many more Christmases afterward.

 

After all the weeks of praying, God had finally answered. He’d sent an angel to help her. She knew she’d probably never find out the identity of that angel, the one who had sent the money for the operation, but if she ever did, she pondered how she could ever thank the individual. It would simply be impossible. For now all she could do was pray to God that somehow he pass along her immense gratitude to the person responsible, and bestow only good things upon him or her for their deed.

 

The tiny hand gripped hers with more strength than she expected, and her son’s blue eyes met hers as if to say thank you.

 

 

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

 

 

Kelly Brackett sat huddled over a stack of paperwork on his desk. A knock startled him out of his reverie; a moment later, Dixie poked her head through the door.

 

“Kel, you got a minute?” Dixie’s blue eyes were stormy as they bored into the doctor’s.

 

Her expression gave him pause. Kel set his pen down and leaned back in his chair. “Yes. Come on in, Dix.”

 

She closed the door behind her. “I’d like to talk to you about Dr. Michaela Marcantonio.”

 

“Sure Dix. What about her?” Kel was aware of the friendship that had developed between Dixie and the Brazilian doctor, and wondered whether this was personal or professional.

 

Dixie’s arms were crossed, her stance a bit defensive in Kel’s opinion. “Is it true that Administration is considering transferring her out because of her involvement with John Gage?”

 

The doctor leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “Where did you hear that?”

 

“It doesn’t matter where I heard it. Just tell me if it’s true.”

 

Kel Brackett fiddled with a pencil in his hands as he considered what to say. “Yes. It’s true.”

 

Kel cringed as Dixie exploded in an outburst of indignation. “I don’t believe it! I can’t believe the administrators of this hospital would be so…so… insensitive, shortsighted, and coldhearted as to let a very talented doctor go just because they don’t approve of her relationship!”

 

“Dix – ”

 

“Kel, you of all people know how hard she’s worked since she got here. Harder than any almost any other intern. And you know why? Because she’s a minority, and in order for her to try to compete on an even playing field, I’m ashamed to say she’s had to be better than everyone else! But instead of taking the time to find out the facts, Admin chooses to give credence to vicious rumors the police department and the media report. Instead of taking the time to find out who Michaela really is and how valuable she is to this hospital, they’d rather just sweep it under the rug! I suppose after they dispose of Michaela, Johnny’ll be next!”

 

Kel opened his mouth to speak as Dixie rounded his desk, but was cut off.

 

“What I want to know is why you haven’t done anything about it! How could you let them do this – and to a good friend of yours’ niece!”

 

“Dix – ”

 

“I’m sorry Kel, but right now I’m just so mad I could – ”

 

Kel stood up and grabbed the nurse’s shoulders. “Dix! Would you stop for a minute?”

 

Fuming, Dixie forced herself to listen.

 

He lowered his hands. “Look Dixie, you’re preaching to the choir here. I agree with you.”

 

That seemed to calm Dixie down a notch. “Then what are you going to do to prevent it?”

 

Kel sighed, his mouth twitching. “I’ve already given them my opinion – that I think it would be a terrible mistake to transfer her. They know how I feel. But they also know I’m a personal friend of Michaela’s family and they think I’m biased. There’s not a whole lot more I can do. Right now it depends on how the investigation of Roy DeSoto’s death goes, and how that reflects on Johnny.”

 

“Which also isn’t fair. They’re picking on him too. You know as well as I do that John Gage had nothing to do with Roy’s death. And he certainly isn’t smuggling any money to him. Just because he keeps looking for him – ”

 

“Is Johnny still searching?”

 

Dixie’s answered before she thought of the implications. She’d always been able to be honest and open with Kel. “Michaela says he won’t give up. He spends most of his free time looking. He just wants to know what happened to him.”

 

Kel looked troubled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “It’s been almost four months,” he murmured.

 

“I know,” Dixie sighed glumly. “This whole thing has really gotten to Johnny. He’s so desperate to find Roy he even mentioned he was going to see a psychic to get help. He met this woman on a rescue named Matilda who told him that Roy was still alive.”

 

Kel looked up at her in shock. “John Gage, talking to psychics? I’d have never have believed it.”

 

“That’s not all. He’s hired a private detective.”

 

“A private detective?! Why? What’s wrong with letting the police handle it?”

 

“Well for one thing, they haven’t been able to turn up any information about Roy. And Johnny doesn’t trust them. They seem determined to pin something on him. Apparently this PI has given Johnny some pretty disconcerting information.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Dixie went on to tell Kel about Johnny being followed by the LA Police, along with some other unidentified entity, and about the bugs found in his house.”

 

Kel’s mouth fell open and he shook his head. “Dix, this really worries me.”

 

Dixie smiled grimly, finally satisfied that Kel seemed genuinely concerned.

 

“Dixie, what if all this is just a figment of John Gage’s imagination?”

 

Her slight smile fell. “Kel – ”

 

“The police following him, some other secret party following him, bugs in his house, his insistence that Roy is still alive after all this time, talking to psychics…”

 

“Kel, he has a private detective researching the case who says he’s not imagining it. And how do you explain the listening devices found in his house?”

 

“I don’t know. Could be the police put them there. It just all seems pretty unlikely to me.” And what the hell could all this have to do with Roy’s death? Kel loosened his necktie a bit more and scanned the room thoughtfully, his lips pressed together. “Dixie, I’d like to get Johnny in here for a psych evaluation.”

 

Dixie was shocked. “On what grounds?”

 

“On the grounds that he may be emotionally unstable. It could affect his job.”

 

“Michaela seems to think he’s stable,” Dixie said defensively.

 

“And Dr. Marcantonio isn’t qualified to evaluate Johnny. Of course she’s going to believe he’s stable! They’re lovers!”

 

Brackett saw a shadow of rage erupt on Dixie’s face and backtracked before she had a chance to respond. He held up his hands. “All right. Let’s say you’re right. Let’s say someone is following Johnny, someone else besides the police, and that they put bugs in his house, the whole nine yards. And you’re right, that does sound pretty serious, dangerous even. If that’s the case, and there is a darker side to this whole mess, then Johnny’s presence could be a danger to his patients. Not only that, the stress alone from all this could cause him to falter, make a mistake even. That’s a chance that shouldn’t be taken.”

 

“Oh, come on, Kel; he’s done his job flawlessly over the past few months and you know it.”

 

“Yes, so far, and only from what we’ve seen. Dixie, you know he’s not been the same since Roy died. We’ve all noticed it. He’s been argumentative, short-tempered, and overly tired. As we speak he’s on unpaid leave from the department because of multiple reprimands.”

 

“That’s not fair, Kel. It was that Captain Hochrader that wrote him up. The man is hard as nails; no one gets along with him.”

 

“And Captain Hank Stanley had already written him up twice before this incident. It was only a matter of time. In my best judgment, I can’t let him keep working if I feel it could jeopardize the health of a patient.”

 

Dixie struggled for an argument, unable to find one.

 

Kel got up and walked around the office. “And then there was that outburst in the ER a week ago…”

 

The telephone on Kel’s desk began ringing.

 

Dixie faced him angrily. “Yes, I saw it. And I’ve got some news for you, Kel. You know why Johnny snapped at you that day?”

 

“No, why?”

 

Her hands were on her hips. “Not because he’s emotionally unstable. But because he overheard the conversation you had with Michaela about Admin’s threats to ship her out of here! And he was angry! And rightly so! And let me tell you something else. You can just tell Admin they need not worry about her relationship with John Gage any more.”

 

Brackett stared numbly at Dixie as the phone rang a fourth time. “Oh?  Why’s that?”

 

Dixie walked toward the door and pulled it open. “Because, they broke up. He broke up with her because he didn’t want to be responsible for ruining her career. Maybe you’d call that imbalanced. I call it unselfish.” Dixie turned, walked through the door, and pulled it closed, and not quietly.

 

Kel stared at the closed door, grimacing. Shit.

 

Slowly, he picked up the ringing phone. “Dr. Brackett speaking.”

 

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

Johnny carried yet another box out to his barn, the empty feeling inside twisting his heart each time he entered. Even the cats were gone; the few Michaela hadn’t found homes for went to live with the McMurty’s.

 

Saying good-bye to his dogs had almost killed him. He’d half decided to keep Glue with him, but living her life in his car with him would be no existence for a dog, especially one that was used to such wide spaces to run around in. Besides, he wouldn’t have been able to take her to work with him.

 

At least he knew that Denali had a good home with Michaela. He’d been able to talk her into taking him with her for protection before she left. He was a bit worried about what she would do with him all the hours she would be at work, but decided to let her worry about that. He had enough problems of his own. Jed and Glue went to the McMurty’s along with two of the cats. He was lucky they were animal lovers. Maybe someday he’d be able to get them back. It gave him solace to know that he’d at least be able to visit.

 

After retrieving the last of the boxes from the house, Johnny entered the barn a last time, dropping it on the ground in the corner. His eyes glistened as he thought of his beloved horses. If they could have gone to a single buyer, he would not have felt as badly. But Sonny had decided to split them up three ways when he received more than one lucrative offer for them. He hadn’t told Johnny about it until the day they came to pick up the horses.

 

Johnny remembered how confused and upset the animals had acted as they were divided between the three ranchers.  He didn’t care what anyone else thought, he knew the horses had an emotional bond with each other and felt loss when they were separated. Johnny’s stomach still turned at the memory of Marie’s terrified whinnies as she was loaded into the trailer alone, headed for a large breeding ranch hundreds of miles away.

 

The death of a dream, John thought to himself, for the life of a child. No matter how hard it had been, it had been the right thing; no, the only thing he could have done.

 

John had most of his things stored in the barn, as the Wyatt’s had agreed to. He’d had no one to help him; keeping his move a secret had prevented that. Fortunately Bob McMurty had stopped over that afternoon to talk and ended up helping him move a few pieces of the heavier furniture out. He’d already let Michaela take most of it, even the bed.

 

It was getting dark. Johnny hadn’t eaten all day, and wandered inside to see what might be in the refrigerator. He made a bologna sandwich, grabbed a beer, and headed outside to his deck. 

 

Tonight he would sleep on the living room floor. He didn’t want to be in the bedroom. Michaela was already gone; she’d stormed out several nights earlier after their quarrel. Tomorrow he’d throw a few things in his Rover and head out. He planned on living out of his car until he worked out future habitation, although he did have some of his camping basics with him if he wanted to find a campsite. His thoughts were that he’d be safer sleeping in the car anyway.

 

A chill was in the air and he pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders as he bit into his sandwich. By his third beer, he began to feel warmer. Thoughts of disbelief hovered in his mind as the quiet of the night wrapped around him. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so lonely before.

 

It was hard to comprehend everything that had happened in such a short period of time. Roy gone, his friendship with Joanne and the DeSoto family shattered, his friends all turned against him, his career in jeopardy. As if that weren’t enough, he’d lost all his animals and girlfriend too. And his home. It was like some horrible nightmare, only it was reality.

 

A full moon lit up the sky, casting soft shadows around the property. Johnny looked up at the stars as if they could offer him some sort of answer. A soft breeze whispered through the trees, chilling him. The only other sound came from the few crickets bold enough to brave the cool night air.

 

He felt Michaela’s absence keenly as the thoughts of what could have been gnawed at him. The hole left in his heart by their separation was acute and he had to fight not to let it overwhelm him. He’d berated himself over and over again for letting their relationship collapse, only he knew that there had been no choice. Knowing that she was safer away from him was the only thing that saved his sanity. He hoped someday they’d make it back together again, but wishing for that right now seemed an impossibility, especially after their argument.

 

They’d had their share of fights before, but they’d always ended quickly with one or both apologizing in the end. The sweetness of what followed almost made their quarrels worthwhile. In a way, Johnny felt the arguments had actually strengthened their relationship, the make-ups always offering them a way to understand each other better.

 

He recalled their first fight, and couldn’t help the wistful smile that grew on his face. It was about a month after they’d started dating, and they braved a rainy and particularly chilly January day to meet the rest of A-shift and their ladies at a bar for an evening out in celebration of Chet’s birthday.

 

Both Johnny and Michaela had rough shifts the night before, so neither was anywhere near perky when Johnny picked Mick up for their date. In fact, they both started the evening off in less than placid moods, which would later serve as a catalyst to fuel an argument.

 

The evening got off to a bad start when Johnny had arrived late. Bone tired from his previous shift, he had tried to nap that afternoon, unsuccessfully, because the telephone kept ringing. He had finally fallen asleep, only to be awoken by Michaela’s call, asking where the heck he was. Springing from the bed, he frantically showered and dressed, trying to get to her apartment quickly so she wouldn’t have to wait further. That had dampened her mood; Michaela hated tardiness.

 

The second problem had been the rain. The car lot near the bar was full, and John was forced to park two blocks away. Not thinking straight because of the fatigue, he hadn’t thought to suggest that he let Michaela out at the front door first, and both were rather soggy by the time they reached the pub, dampening their moods further. Little was said between the two as they walked into the bar, with Michaela fuming silently.

 

“Hey, look who’s finally here!” Chet, already a little wobbly, yelled his greeting from the other end of the bar. Tonight was his night, and he intended to make the most of it. All he had asked for his birthday was for the crew of 51’s to have a night at Chet’s favorite bar, and the guys had happily assented. The pub was packed with people, just the way he liked it. Chet waited as John hung their jackets on the coat rack, and then Johnny maneuvered himself and Michaela over to the corner where the men and their dates were trying to save room for the couple. “It’s about time you got here!”

 

John’s sense of humor was thin tonight, so he held back his usual retort. “Sorry we’re late.” Johnny squeezed into the small space left for them and sat down in one of the few remaining seats. Michaela hastily excused herself to go to the restroom to fix her soggy hair, and check that her mascara hadn’t run down her face. Johnny looked up in surprise and embarrassment at how abruptly she had left his side, before he even had a chance to introduce her, since none of the guys had yet met her.

 

“Hey, Johnny! Where’s your date going?” Chet called.

 

“Restroom,” Johnny said glumly. He knew he was in the doghouse for being late and making Michaela run through the rain. He hoped her mood would improve. “What’d we miss?”

 

“Only Chet teaching Marco and Carmen how to drink an Irish Car Bomb.” Cap winced. “They didn’t care for it.”

 

“Who would? It was awful!” Marco yelled over the noise, made louder as the live band began to play. His date, Carmen, made a face as she recalled the drink. “It was worse than awful!” she agreed.

 

“You just don’t appreciate good booze.” Chet wasn’t deterred. “Hey, Johnny, you try it and see.”

 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, junior.” Roy clamped a hand on John’s shoulder from behind him.

 

“Hey, Roy. I didn’t see you. Is Joanne here?” John moved a little to make room at the bar for his friend. He noticed there were only two bar stools left. “We’re running out of seats.”

 

“She’s in the powder room with Beth Stoker and Cap’s wife. Thanks.” Roy took one of the seats with the intention of saving it for Joanne.

 

“Hey, Johnny, where’s your date?” Stoker asked.

 

Johnny gestured with his head toward the restroom, then proceeded to tell the rest of the guys how their evening had started, and that his date was a little disenchanted with him at the moment.

 

“Foosh!” Cap grinned at John. “Another relationship down the John.”

 

“Pun intended,” Marco added as Carmen playfully slapped his arm.

 

Chet eyed Johnny, noticing his glum expression, then motioned to the bartender. “Irish Car Bomb over here!”

 

Johnny looked up resignedly. He knew Chet wouldn’t rest until he tried one of his special drinks. “Only one. I still have to drive tonight.” John warily eyed both the pint of Guinness and the shot glass of milky fluid the bartender placed in front of him. He wrinkled up his nose at the concoction. “What is this?”

 

Chet pointed to the glasses. “This is a pint of the best Guinness this side of Ireland, and the shooter is Irish whiskey with Bailey’s Irish Cream.” Chet’s eyes gleamed mischievously.

 

“Don’t do it”, Roy singsang into John’s ear.

 

John spotted Michaela and the girls working their way back toward the group. Her face still set in a stoic mask, he caught her cool gaze and held it defiantly as he put a hand on the shooter.

 

“Ah, ah…you have to do this right.” Chet stopped John before he could drink the shooter. “Hold the little glass over the pint, drop it in and chug the whole thing. Fast.”

 

“You’re gonna be sorry,” Marco could hardly watch.

 

Still miffed at Michaela’s show of anger, John tore his eyes from his date as she approached him and held the shooter over the pint. Taking her look as one of disapproval, he met her challenge and dropped the shot into the pint, then picked up the larger glass and tilted it back. Ignoring the fiery burn, he chugged the contents without stopping until the shot glass hit his lips and the pint was empty. The catcalls and cheers of those watching barely registered over the roaring in his ears as the alcohol raced toward his brain.

 

Michaela watched as John shuddered violently once, then closed his eyes. Well, I can see how this evening is gonna be. I supposed now he’s going to get drunk and make a complete fool out of me and himself, just because I got a little angry at his inconsiderateness.

 

She watched him a moment longer as he enjoyed the cheering and backslapping on his behalf, a big smile spreading across his face as he relaxed. The others were trying to convince Johnny to try another one as Michaela sat there, unnoticed, growing angrier by the second.

 

He’s ignoring me! He hasn’t even introduced me to anyone or offered to buy me a drink!

 

In an effort to either make Johnny jealous, or simply be noticed, Michaela leaned toward the bar, and put a hand on Chet’s as it rested on the polished wood. “Would you mind ordering me a Dewar’s and water, please, on the rocks?”

 

His mind muddled from the sudden alcohol rush, Johnny suddenly noticed Michaela next to him, smiling sweetly at Chet.

 

Eating up Johnny’s discomfort, Chet answered, “Sure, babe, anything you want.” Chet yelled for the bartender.

 

With that, Johnny abruptly jumped off his seat with the intention of offering it to Michaela. Instead, because of the cramped quarters, he managed to land the heel of his foot squarely on top of his date’s, which elicited a loud, “Ow!” followed by a few curse words muttered under her breath. She reached down to rub her sore foot.

 

His face pinched in mortification, Johnny began to apologize profusely. “Honey, I’m so sorry! Are you all right? Here, let me help you.” Then, as if a bad situation couldn’t get worse, his elbow bumped into Michaela’s drink, knocking it over where a portion of it drizzled off the counter and down the front of her.

 

"Ugh! Oh, my dress!” she yelped, jumping back out of the way of the amber liquid now dripping off the side of the bar.

 

Embarrassed for his friend, Roy closed his eyes and cringed, a pained expression on his face.

 

Oh shit. Now what have I done? “God, I’m so sorry!” Johnny reached up to the bar and grabbed a handful of napkins in order to wipe the spill off her clothes.

 

Her voice shaking and barely under control, she looked at him with daggers in her eyes, grabbed the napkins from him, and said very succinctly, “I’ll do it! Just – stay – back!”

 

Now, embarrassed beyond belief, Johnny backed off, deciding the best thing to do would be to become invisible. Leaning his elbow on the bar, he rested his forehead against his hand, wishing they hadn’t come.

 

This is not how he had envisioned this night would be. Not at all. He had envisioned himself and Michaela walking into the bar, all smiles, her arm in his, and every man in the place would be staring at them, wishing he were Johnny. But noooo, all he’d managed to do was look like a complete fool in front of everyone.

 

The bartender, having witnessed the situation, set another drink on the counter in front of Michaela.

 

“Thank you,” she said indignantly, and threw Johnny an icy glare.

 

“Johnny, aren’t you going to introduce your date?” Mike Stoker asked, trying to ease the tension between them.

 

Feeling idiotic, Johnny stuttered, “Oh, yeah. Uh, everyone, this is Michaela.” He then proceeded to introduce her to all the guys.

 

Michaela could see that she had the attention of all the males around her as she spoke to each of them, and noticeably relaxed, obviously enjoying their company. Johnny, on the other hand, was fuming at her flirtiness. He felt she was making a fool out of him. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she laughed and carried on a conversation, while completely ignoring him. A little voice in his brain tried to reason that she wasn’t really flirting. Michaela was just one of those people that drew others to her without trying. She was naturally charming and witty, and warmth radiated from her. She had an excitement about her that was almost intoxicating, which is one of the things that had drawn Johnny to her in the first place. Even the women clustered around her, interested in this exotic woman that Johnny was seeing.

 

Chet, having noticed Johnny’s sulkiness, took it upon himself to order another Irish Car Bomb for Johnny, who looked up in surprise as it was placed in front of him.

 

“Uh, Chet, I didn’t order this.”

 

“I know. I did. Now drink it.”

 

Johnny glared at him.

 

“C’mon, Gage; it’ll improve your mood.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with my mood, except for – ”

 

At that moment, Michaela turned abruptly and her eyes met Johnny’s with a challenging look. “Except for what?” she demanded.

 

“Nothin’,” he muttered, then defiantly lifted the drink to his mouth and chugged the whole thing. Numbed by the first drink, John barely flinched. More cheers and backslapping erupted as Johnny slammed the mug down on the counter.

 

A look of disgust broke out on Michaela’s face. She leaned in close to Johnny and said in a low voice, “What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to get drunk? You’re embarrassing me.”

 

“Well, the bartender’s payin’ more attention to me than you are,” he spat back. “And what do you think you’re doing, flirting with every guy in here? Tryin’ to pick up another date that won’t embarrass you?” The minute the words tumbled out, he regretted them, and his face suddenly took on a pained and regretful look.

 

Eyes blazing and mouth dropping open, her face lit up in anger, and for a moment, Johnny thought she was going to slap him.

 

By this time, the others had noticed the two were quarrelling. Judging by the look on Michaela’s face, they expected an explosion any second, so they instinctively turned away from the uncomfortable encounter going on between Johnny and Michaela and struck up new conversations.

 

Johnny glanced at Michaela, who had now turned her head away from him and was sipping her drink angrily.

 

Johnny shook his head; this was getting stupid. He realized just how much he had embarrassed Michaela, even though it wasn’t intentional, and he hated her being angry with him. Suddenly, all the anger built up in him washed away as he gazed at her profile. Maybe it was the alcohol, but if it was it only made him realize that she was even more stunning than he’d ever realized, with her skin glowing and eyes sparkling in the bar’s dim lighting. He watched her chest rise and fall with each breath, mesmerized. Jeez, she’s so beautiful, even when she’s mad. I wish we weren’t fighting. I wish… Looking longingly over at her, he tentatively reached out and smoothed a lock of her hair and placed it behind her ear. Surprised at his gentle gesture, she turned to face him.

 

Those big dark brown puppy dog eyes gazing at her melted her anger away, and her expression softened.

 

“I’m sorry,” Johnny murmured. “I’ve been such a klutz. Forgive me?”

 

Mick’s eyebrows raised in surprise, first in shock that he’d apologized, then feeling sheepish that she had been so shallow herself not to realize he hadn’t done anything on purpose. The whole argument now seemed ridiculous, yet he had been gentleman enough to step up to the plate and apologize. It had been such a sweet and endearing thing to do.

 

She took in his features, as if for the first time; his dark, tousled hair, his high cheekbones and the slight flush they held, his chocolate-brown eyes, the sensuous lips…oh, my God! She felt her heart skip a beat, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and suddenly she realized how badly she wanted him – now. The couple hadn’t been intimate yet, their relationship still new, but Mick knew what she wanted at this moment. Leaning into his arms, she whispered, “Forgive me too?” and found his lips with her own.

 

Cap cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed but also bemused at his youngest’s actions, and addressed no one in particular. “Anybody want to order onion rings? I hear they’re really good.”

 

Tearing their eyes from the show, the others agreed. Even Chet turned away and got a waitresses’ attention. “Angie! Three rings over here!” He smiled at his captain, all innocence. “Nice party, huh?”

 

When the kiss started to get too passionate, John tore his lips from Michaela’s and whispered in her ear. It was time this party was taken somewhere more private. He didn’t like being a spectacle. She smiled and nodded, slinking away to find a payphone. Johnny got up and tapped Roy’s shoulder, grinning as his friend turned to acknowledge him. “We’re gonna split.”

 

Roy’s eyebrows crept up into his receding hairline. “You just got here.”

 

“Well,” he stammered, “Michaela’s tired.”

 

Overhearing Johnny excusing himself from the party, Chet spun around and said, “Right. Tired. She looked real tired, didn’t she, Roy?”

 

Roy ignored Chet. “You’re not gonna drive, are you?”

 

“Uh uh. Michaela’s calling a cab.”

 

John saw Michaela returning and got up to meet her. Slapping Chet on the back, he said, “Happy birthday, Chet!” then turned and left the two men shaking their heads.

 

“Great. It’s my birthday, but he gets the present,” Chet griped good-naturedly.

 

Outside, John held Mick closely as they waited for the taxi to arrive. The cold air was chilling them, but didn’t cool their building passion as their hands sought warm places on each other. Ignoring the glances of the few passersby, they kissed hotly until the loud blare of a car horn startled them into separating just long enough to dive into the back seat of the cab. Speeding through the rain-slicked streets, they seemed almost unaware of the cabbie’s presence as they continued their assault on each other. In a few minutes, the taxi stopped in front of Mick’s apartment. Throwing some bills across the seat to the driver, Mick slid out of the cab, pulling John by the arm. “Come on, it’s cold.”

 

John held her tightly as the taxi pulled away. “Are you sure? We were fighting just a few minutes ago.”

 

“Now, we’re making up.” She pulled him closer as she kissed him deeply. “Makes it almost worthwhile.”

 

Together, they scurried toward the door. They both knew that this time, nothing was going to hold them back from doing what they’d both wanted almost from the time they’d first laid eyes on each other.

 

 

 

Johnny inhaled, closing his eyes, trying to relive that moment and make it last forever. The sound of a dog barking in the distance pulled him away from the memory, leaving him feeling empty.

 

He gulped down the rest of his beer and went inside. The house was quiet and dark, except for one lonely lamp sitting on the floor illuminating a corner of the room. With nothing else to do, he spread out his sleeping bag on the floor, preparing for bed.

 

Padding into the bedroom to find his pajamas, Johnny noticed a glint of something on the floor in the corner of the room that a beam of moonlight had caught. Bending down to examine it, he knew what it was as soon as he touched it, even though it was too dark to see the details.

 

Tenderly, he picked up the silver chain with the heart attached that he’d given to Michaela on their six month anniversary. It was a locket with a tiny diamond in the center. He’d seen her admiring it in the jewelry case of a tiny shop they’d visited on one of their first weekends away together and had bought it for her as a surprise. He remembered her face now as she’d opened the gift and how her breath had caught at the sight of it. When they’d returned home, Michaela fitted a tiny picture of Johnny inside, saying that this way he’d always be close to her heart. He’d never seen her take it off.

 

Until now. The knife he felt going through his heart almost felt real.

 

Emotion welled up inside of him and he blinked. Searching through his dresser drawer, he found a small envelope and slid the necklace into it and folded it over. He didn’t want to look at it any more. He told himself that she must have left it behind accidentally; maybe one of the dogs had knocked it to the floor. At least that’s what he hoped, and that she hadn’t left it intentionally.

 

Johnny felt very tired suddenly, and quickly undressed, not bothering to put his pajamas on. Clad in his underwear, he walked into the living room and climbed under the covers he’d lain out.  

 

Sleep didn’t come easily. Though there was a rug under him, the floor was hard, and the room was empty. The moon seemed sinister now as it’s glow pushed its way through the cracks in the drapes, casting unfriendly shadows on the walls.

 

Johnny couldn’t help but imagine that someone might be lurking outside, peering in through the dark windows. His eyes shifted back and forth, scanning the room to see if there was any movement beyond the dark panes. Maybe there was more than one person out there. Maybe there were several men and they were surrounding the house at this very moment, waiting for the precise moment at which to burst in and take him by surprise. What they would do once inside Johnny could only imagine.

 

His heart began to beat faster. Would they tie him up and question him about Roy’s whereabouts? Or would they try to beat it out of him? Perhaps they would restrain him and torture him until they found out the truth. Johnny shuddered at that thought.

 

The building fear immobilized him. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to get a hold of himself. A creak at the back of the house startled him and he sat up abruptly, straining to hear any further noises.

 

A sudden rage filled him, and he decided he wasn’t going to put up with not knowing any longer. Whatever happened happened. He wasn’t going to spend the night lying in fear. He had to know who was out there. Pushing his apprehension to the back of his mind, he snatched up his hunting knife and boldly stood up, as if challenging anyone who might be considering barging in on him. Stepping quickly into his jeans, he threw a shirt on, never letting go of the knife.

 

Storming to the front door, he threw it open and burst outside, the knife grasped firmly in his hand, his body in a defensive position, ready to spring into action. He hoped his aggressive stance would make them think twice. When he saw nothing out front, he stole around the side of the house, refusing to let his fear get the best of him. Johnny worked his way around the entire house, his eyes straining in the darkness to see any villains that might be out there waiting for him. He was almost disappointed when he encountered no one. When he reached the front porch again, he took one last look around, and when he was satisfied no one was there, he finally went back inside, closed the door and locked it.

 

Now feeling a bit relieved, he slid the shirt from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He left his jeans on, and climbed back under the covers. The deep fatigue that had been his constant companion over the weeks made its presence too hard to ignore. It finally forced his eyes closed for the night.

 

 

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

 

 

Mike Morton sank down onto his black leather sofa and opened his book. It was the first evening he’d had off in days and it felt good to enjoy a little down time. The glass of burgundy he sipped had already mellowed him somewhat, and he let out of sigh of contentment as he anticipated digging into his novel.

 

Ten minutes later he still hadn’t turned a page. To his own irritation, he simply couldn’t seem to get the conversation he’d overheard about Gage off his mind.

 

Even though the rumors about Johnny had hung in the air for months now, Mike had preferred to keep his distance from them, the standoffishness of his own making, knowing that emotional attachments would only distract him from his goals. Don’t get involved, and, it’s none of your business, was a consistent rule he followed.

 

Mike also hated gossip, and usually managed to ignore it, which wasn’t an easy feat considering it was rampant at the hospital. Once gossip had nearly ruined his career when a nurse spread false information around about his financial situation. At the time, the mere fact that it had distracted him from his work angered him the most. Eventually Dixie had ended up firing the nurse, but not before it had done its damage.

 

Highly driven, Mike had worked hard to get where he was and it hadn’t been easy. That might have been why he felt a pull of connection to Johnny in this case, because he knew the paramedic had faced similar obstacles.

 

Now the doctor found himself fighting a feeling of allegiance with Johnny. It was rather strange; so often he and John had been at odds with one another. In some ways they were similar; both were intense people; both had to fight in their climb up the career ladder. One of the reasons they occasionally clashed was that Mike saw John’s potential, and secretly wanted him to advance and succeed in order to be an example to others like him, the same standard he held for himself. For that reason, sometimes Mike challenged John, even pressured him, expecting more of him than others in his position.

 

Mike would have preferred to ignore the conversation he’d overheard if he hadn’t felt so uncomfortable with it. Maybe it was because what was happening to Gage hit so close to home.

 

Mike’s mom was an English Literature teacher, his dad a tradesman. When Mike was only fifteen, his dad was accused of burglary. It had been a case of mistaken identity, and his name was eventually cleared, but not before many of his friends and even family had abandoned him. It had been easier to assume he was guilty than to stand up for him. Only Mike’s great uncle had been brave enough to defend his father’s honor. Mike himself had been a casualty of the fallout, many of his own friends tossing him out of their lives over it. Because of that incident, Mike learned the meaning of ‘fair weather friends’ very early in life.

 

Now he saw the same thing happening to John. In the months since Roy’s death, Mike had not offered any opinions about it as the others did, instead merely absorbed the information he’d heard about Johnny’s relentless quest to find Roy, and how that had put him at odds with his friends who had lost faith that Roy was alive. Mike noted their worried faces as they secretly labeled Johnny’s behavior ‘questionable’, and backed away in their support of him. Now even his girlfriend had jumped ship.

 

Not being as much ‘in the loop’ as the other hospital ‘Rat Packers’, Mike could see the big picture a little more clearly without the baggage John’s other friends and shift mates carried. Now, being the logical guy he was, Mike found it hard to believe that Roy could still be alive, yet he admired both John’s loyalty and his perseverance as character traits. Obviously the stress of proving Roy’s existence combined with the police, and whoever else was hounding him had distanced John from everyone and was causing trouble at work, evidenced by his recent layoff. It seemed he had no one on his side at all.

 

What the poor guy needed was a friend. Hell, he might even be in danger if what Dr. Marcantonio said was true.

 

Dr. Marcantonio. That was another thing that just plain made Mike mad. The fact that Rampart’s administrators were actually considering transferring her because of Gage incensed Mike. And was her relationship with John the whole reason, or did it have to do with the fact that both she and Gage were minorities?

 

Mike didn’t know, but he felt compelled to do something. Maybe he should talk to Johnny and see if there was anything he could do to help. Mike chuckled to himself at that. I can only imagine Gage’s expression if I go to him and offer to help.

 

Closing the book, Mike got out of his chair, walking aimlessly around the room. What the hell can I do about it, anyway? He walked by his kitchen counter, spotting the basketball tickets lying there. There was a game Monday night that he’d intended to ask his friend Malcolm to go to. Hm. Maybe I should ask Gage. He likes basketball. It’d be a good ice-breaker.

 

Mike looked at his watch. It was seven o’clock. It’s not too late. Maybe I’ll give him a call.

 

Mike hung up the phone, scratching his head. John’s number had been disconnected. That was disconcerting. He walked around the room a bit more, then snatched up his car keys. It’s only a twenty-minute drive. I’ll just go on over there and talk to him. It had been a year since the party at John’s new ranch that Mike had attended one weekend, but he had a good memory and was sure he could find it. With that thought, he headed out the door.

 

 

 

It was dark when Mike got back home. He entered his home with a sense of unease, and a mind full of questions.

 

It was very odd. He hadn’t been able to talk to Johnny. He had moved.

 

When Mrs.Wyatt opened the door to Johnny’s house, Mike had stared in surprise, wondering how he could have possibly made a mistake and gotten the wrong address. He’d been sure when he’d driven up to the property and saw the horse barn out back that it was as he’d remembered it. It didn’t take long to find out that Gage had moved; to where, the Wyatt’s didn’t know.

 

“Well, did he take his horses?” a very nonplussed Dr. Morton had asked.

 

The quizzical expression he got in return only made the situation weirder. “What horses?” Mrs. Wyatt asked.

 

Mike gestured toward the back of the house. “He had a herd of horses.”

 

Mrs. Wyatt wrinkled her nose. “We never saw any horses. The barn was empty. As a matter of fact, we agreed to let him store his things there until he settled somewhere.”

 

Further questioning had revealed that Johnny had called out of the blue, asking if they were still interested in buying his property. He’d been in a hurry, she said, to close the deal, and it had taken less than two weeks to finalize it. “I got the impression that he needed the money,” she offered.

 

Mike departed feeling bewildered, wondering why Gage would have needed money so suddenly. Like a light bulb suddenly clicking on, a thought occurred to the doctor that amazed him.

 

On a whim he decided to pull into the neighbor’s drive down the road. Being the outgoing kind of guy Johnny was, he figured the woman rocking on her front porch knew him.

 

Callie McMurty looked up as the blue Firebird cruised into her driveway. She squinted at Morton as he climbed out of his car with a cautious ‘he’s not from anywhere around here’ look.

 

“Can I help you?” she called, standing up.

 

Mike smiled charmingly at her and held out his hand, putting her at ease. “Yes, maybe you can. I’m Dr. Mike Morton, a friend of John Gage’s, your neighbor.”

 

She greeted him amicably and they chatted for a moment about how Johnny knew him and about Rampart. Mike was glad she seemed to know John well.

 

“I was kind of surprised to stop by Johnny’s and find he’d moved. Do you have any idea where he moved to?”

 

Her face took on a slightly troubled expression. “No, I don’t. Wish I did.”

 

At that moment, John’s dog, Glue, came running around the side of the house, barking.

 

“Hush, Glue,” Callie admonished, leaning down to pet the dog.

 

Glue. Mike studied the dog. Johnny had a dog named Glue, didn’t he? I remember thinking what a strange name it was for a dog. “Is that…John’s dog?”

 

“Yes, it is. He gave us two of his dogs before he left,” she answered sadly.

 

Mike struggled to put the pieces together. “What did John do with his horses?”

 

“He sold them. About oh, maybe a month or two ago. I don’t remember. Said he got an offer he couldn’t refuse.” She put emphasis on the word ‘said’, as if she didn’t quite believe it.

 

Mike merely nodded, rubbing his chin as he thought.

 

“Listen, if you happen to see him at the hospital, would you tell him to call us?” She hesitated a moment then added, “We’re kind of worried about him.”

 

Mike could tell she wanted to say more but was holding back. “Sure.” He smiled. “I’ll tell him. Uh, can you just answer one question?”

 

“I’ll try.”

 

“Do you know why John moved?”

 

“I…I can’t say. I just hope he’s all right.” She would offer no more.

 

“Yes ma’am. I’m sure he is.” With that, Mike said his good-byes and left.

 

 

 

Now back home, Mike gave up reading the book, and turned on the television. He barely paid attention. Could what he suspected about Gage be true? And should he try to find out? Obviously if it was true Gage didn’t want anyone to know about it. Who was he to interfere? That little voice once again called out to him, ‘stay out of it; it’s none of your business.’

 

Even if he did find out his suspicions were true, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone. He would have to honor Gage’s wish to keep this silent. It probably wouldn’t be that hard to find out. Mike had a good friend that was an administrator at UCLA, the hospital where they’d done Jimmy’s surgery. He decided he’d call Chuck in the morning.

 

 

 

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

 

 

Hank Stanley sat at his desk chair; Gage’s file was limp in his hand. He’d tried to call the paramedic several times during his time off to no avail. For the first week the phone rang without anyone answering, then just a few days ago Hank called and got a recording that the number was disconnected.

 

He’d wanted the chance to talk to John and find out his side of the story regarding his suspension. While he had to honor the Chief’s judgment to suspend John, as John’s captain he still felt he owed the paramedic the decency to present any defense he might have.

 

Mike and the others told him they felt Hochrader had unfairly ridden John the entire shift, leaving him feeling guilty for being absent. Nonetheless, Gage’s demeanor had likely contributed to his demise. Hank could only hope that the extra time off had been spent wisely resting and perhaps reevaluating. The disconnected telephone was disconcerting however.

 

A white blur went by the window and he stood up just in time to see John’s Land Rover whiz by. Deciding to give John time to get dressed, he waited a short time before he went into the locker room to find him.

 

Surprisingly, Johnny was in the shower, which Hank thought odd. Why would John come in here early to shower when he could have done it at home? It was just another piece of a strange puzzle that had become Gage’s personality over the past nearly four months. Nothing he did lately made much sense.

 

Chet came in a moment later, also surprised to see Gage in the shower. On his way out, Hank asked Chet to have Johnny come into his office when he was done. A hesitant, ‘Sure, Cap,’ was his reply, his face expressing that he knew that what was in store for Johnny from his captain wasn’t good.

 

Hank grimaced; he wasn’t going to discipline Johnny. He was simply going to talk to him and get a feel for the paramedic’s countenance.

 

Five minutes later, a damp-haired Johnny appeared in the doorway looking both a little nervous and contrite. Hank smiled to put him at ease, beckoning him in with his hand. Johnny entered tentatively, choosing to stand while Hank sat.

 

Despite having just showered, the paramedic looked anything but fresh. He looked tired and depressed. His usually neat uniform was rumpled. Hank sighed inwardly at the evidence that nothing had changed with Gage since his time off.

 

“I was hoping that maybe you’d gotten rested up while you were out.”

 

Johnny sighed tiredly. A slight sarcasm tinged his voice. “It wasn’t exactly a vacation, Cap.” 

 

Hank nodded ruefully. “I’ve heard both Captain Hochrader’s account and the Chief’s. Now I want yours.”

 

Johnny slumped a bit, as if retelling it would be a burden too great to bear. He was over trying to defend himself. What was the use? After everything that had gone down in the past months, hoping that his captain would be on his side was too much to wish for. “It’s all written in the reports, Cap.”

 

“Yes, I’m aware of that. I just thought that you might like the opportunity to tell your side of the story.”

 

John shrugged. “It’s pretty much accurate.”

 

Cap’s mouth twisted in frustration. He gestured to the file on his desk. “Hochrader’s account says you were on the telephone the whole shift.”

 

“Not the whole shift.”

 

Hank felt like he was pulling teeth. “How much of the shift?”

 

“There were probably eight or ten calls I suppose. A couple of them had to call back because we got runs.”

 

“What was so important that couldn’t wait until after your shift?”

 

“It’s…personal, Cap.”

 

Hank pressed his lips together, further frustrated that Johnny wasn’t offering any explanation. He flipped to another page in the file. “Captain Hochrader also says you were belligerent.” He looked up expectantly.

 

Johnny nodded slightly.

 

“You’re in agreement with that?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why?”

 

Johnny hesitated.

 

“Why, John? Why were you belligerent?”

 

“He said some things about Roy.”

 

Hank’s brows rose. “What things?”

 

Johnny drew in a breath. “Basically that Roy was dead and that I was harming the Department and disrespecting Roy’s honor by continuing to search for him. That I should stay out of it and let the police do their job.” Johnny looked away, his expression contemptuous.

 

“I see. So, you let him have it.”

 

“No. I didn’t say a thing until he banned me from using the phone. Then I argued.”

 

Hank nodded. He didn’t have any trouble imagining the scene. Things were silent for a minute while he struggled over what to say. While Hochrader might have been justified in writing Johnny up, Hank knew his actions weren’t totally innocent. But since Johnny wasn’t denying anything, there wasn’t much to be said. What’s done was done. Now he had to decide how to handle the future.

 

“Look John. You’re an outstanding fireman and paramedic. I’ve always considered you an important asset to this crew. But I’ve gotta be honest with you. Since Roy’s died I’ve seen some changes in you that are not positive. While I understand that losing your partner, and friend, has been rough on you, I think enough time has gone by that it shouldn’t still be affecting you on the job. But things don’t seem to be getting any better.” He stopped and waited to see if Johnny had anything to say.

 

Gage kept quiet as he stood stiffly, his downcast gaze lifting every now and then to make eye contact with Hank.

 

Hank leaned forward and continued. “Short of ordering you to see a psychiatrist, I’m not quite sure how to make this better, and we’ve already been down that road. You’ve got to get your act together and get off this path you’re on. You’ve got to start to put the past to rest and start living for the future. You understand what I’m saying?”

 

Nope. He’s still not on my side.  “Yeah. I understand, Cap.” Johnny stared down while he absently rubbed the knuckles of his hand with his fingers.

 

There was another long silence. Then more quietly, “You’re still searching for Roy?”

 

Johnny looked up guardedly. “I’m still trying to find out what happened to him, yes.”

 

“Have the police turned up anything?”

 

Johnny snorted. “I doubt it. They’re too busy wasting time following me around.”

 

“Following you?”

 

“Yeah. Chet’s detective cousin put a tail on me.”

 

“What?! Why?”

 

“He thinks I’ve got something to do with this insurance fraud case.”

 

“Roy’s insurance fraud case? Like what?” The Cap’s voice was incredulous.

 

Johnny hesitated. Why I’m bothering to explain this, I don’t know. “He’s alleging I helped Roy fake his death so Joanne could collect the insurance money and that I’m helping him hide, or maybe that I had something to do with Roy’s death and that me and Joanne have got something going and we’re gonna split the insurance money when it comes time. He’s got a real good imagination.”

 

Hank’s jaw hung slack. “You gotta be kidding me!”

 

“Nope.”

 

“How long have the police been following you?”

 

Johnny shrugged. “A while.” He saw the alarm in his captain’s eyes and added sincerely, “Oh, don’t worry, Cap. They’re not following me when I’m at work. At least the police aren’t.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Uh oh. Do I really want Cap to know this? John hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Part of him was actually afraid that if he told more, his captain wouldn’t believe him, and maybe he would think he was just plain off his rocker. But the part that still desperately wished for an ally won out, and he went on. “There’s…someone else who’s been following me…I’m not sure who it is yet.”

 

Hank stared at Johnny in shock. “How do you know that?”

 

“I…hired a private investigator. He told me I’ve got two tails, one’s the police, the other…he’s not sure.” Johnny held off revealing that it could be someone like the FBI, or worse.

 

Hank absently moved the papers around on his desk as he tried to drink in this information. “You hired a private investigator.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“To help you find out what happened to Roy.”

 

“Ye-es.”

 

Hank looked up in concern. “And he told you you’re being followed by these two…groups?”


            “Yes. He also found a bunch of listening devices in my house.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Yeah,” Johnny sighed. Retelling the story now even sounded shocking to him.

 

Hank sank back in his chair, regarding Johnny earnestly. Jeez, no wonder John’s been so edgy lately. “John, why haven’t you mentioned any of this?”

 

Johnny averted his eyes, uncomfortable with revealing that he felt there was no one he could count on to be on his side, including his captain. “I…didn’t think…well, there’s nothing anyone can do about it, so I just didn’t see the point.”  

 

Hank shook his head, troubled by the fact that in the past Johnny would never have kept something like this to himself. “Well, something needs to be done. It’s not right; you’re being harassed.”

 

“Well, I can’t exactly go to the police, Cap.”

 

“No. No, I guess you can’t. But I think we should have someone at Headquarters get involved with this.”

 

John’s eyes widened in panic. “No! No, Cap. I’ve got it under control. I’d really you rather not do that.” He looked pleadingly at his captain. “Cap, they might not believe me, especially after…well, the suspension and everything else.”

 

Hank rubbed his chin. “Yeah, you might be right.”

 

“Look, the PI is doing his investigation. I’m just gonna wait and see what he comes up with.”

 

“And until then, you just keep getting followed.”

 

Johnny shrugged. “Nothing’s happened yet.”

 

“Yet.” Hank picked up a pencil and studied it a moment, then looked up. “John, does your PI have any idea why the other guys are following you?”

 

At that, Johnny looked more worried. “He ah…doesn’t know.”

 

“What do you think?”

 

Johnny rubbed his tired eyes. “I have no idea, Cap. All I can think is that it’s got something to do with Roy…something really weird’s going on and…” His voice trailed off, remembering that the Cap thought Roy was dead and that he probably sounded crazy.  

 

Several long seconds passed while Hank thought. “John…maybe it would be wise to back off from searching for Roy.”

 

John’s face hardened as he once again felt betrayed. He looked away instead of answering.

 

Hank sighed. “Look. I don’t want to tell you what to do in your personal life. But from my perspective it sounds a little…troubling, for lack of a better word. I hate to say it, but…what if Roy was mixed up in something?”

 

Johnny glared at his captain. “No way, Cap. Roy hasn’t done anything wrong.”

 

Hank backed off, convinced by John’s unwavering devotion to his partner. “Yeah. Yeah; you have to be right. I wouldn’t believe that either. Well, until we know for sure, then – ”

 

“Cap. I’m not going to be intimidated by these guys. This is still a free country. I can do what I want. Besides, I can take care of myself.” Johnny crossed his arms defiantly in front on himself.

 

Hank looked at Johnny with a mixture of worry and admiration. “Well, I guess it’s your call. Right now my concern lies with your performance at work, and if you can’t – ”

 

“Cap, you don’t have to worry about that either. I’m not going to give you any reason to write me up again.”

 

Stanley saw the resolution in John’s eyes and believed him. “All right. Just one more question before you go though.”

 

Johnny stood silently waiting.

 

Hank eyed John with scrutiny. “This private eye you talked to…does he think you might be in any danger?”

 

The fact that Johnny didn’t answer immediately made Hank uneasy. His response sounded shaky at best.

 

“No…no, like I told you, he doesn’t think anyone’s following me while I’m at work.” John knew what the Cap was getting at; if he was in danger, then the other men he worked with could be too. Johnny’s gut instinct was that he could be in some kind of danger. But for some reason he felt pretty safe at work and didn’t think anything would happen there.

 

Hank didn’t like it very much that Johnny had skirted around his question and his face showed it.

 

“Cap, you don’t have to worry about the guys at the station. Besides, I’m being really careful…I think I can recognize a few of them now, I’d see ‘em if they were hanging out at rescues.”

 

Great. Just great. That really makes me feel so much better. Gage is being followed by the police, and someone else – we don’t know who; we don’t know if they’re good guys or bad guys…we don’t think they’re following Gage at work, but we’re not sure. And he could be in danger at home, away from here. Again, we don’t know. In the meantime, the stress this is putting Gage under could affect his job – already HAS affected his job...

 

Johnny saw the doubt in his captain’s eyes. “Actually, Cap. Even if they were following me on the job, that might be a benefit. It’s sometimes good to have a cop close by in some of the situations we get into. You know?”

 

Hank hmphed softly. Yeah, but not undercover cops. Hank sighed deeply, looking skeptically at John. If there was any solution to this problem, he didn’t see it. There was nothing he could do. Standing there reprimanding Johnny wouldn’t change anything. He’d already been suspended and was given permission to return to work. He couldn’t tell him to go home now just because he was worried that the man was too stressed out to work. Gage was either going to have to sink or swim. These next few shifts would determine his future with the Department.

 

Hank scooted his chair backward and stood up. “If you see anything, I want to know about it. Got it?”

 

Johnny nodded. “Yes Sir.”

 

“And if you think at any time that you’re life, or anybody else’s life around you is in danger, I want to know that too.”

 

“Right. Of course, Cap.”

 

“All right. I want you to keep me updated on this situation. All right?”

 

“Yes Sir.”

 

“And…just be careful.”

 

“I will be.”

 

Hank was quiet for a long moment while Johnny waited to be excused from their conversation. It was probably none of his business, but he asked anyway. “This…private detective…he must be expensive.”

 

“Yeah…a bit,” Johnny answered softly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

 

Is this why he’s been working so many overtime hours? Hank thought a moment longer. He couldn’t fathom what Johnny might have become mixed up in, but it gave him a rotten feeling inside. He gave Johnny one last long look, then waved his hand at him. “All right. Get to work.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Relieved it was over, Johnny turned and walked out the door.

 

 

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

 

 

Mike caught Dixie by the arm as she passed him in the ER hallway. “Hey Dixie.”

 

She stopped abruptly. “Hi Mike, what’s up?”

 

“Hey, have you seen Gage lately? Is he back to work yet?”

 

“Yeah, Mike. He’s back. I saw him Monday, and I saw him earlier today.” She regarded the doctor a moment. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was hesitating. “Why?”

 

“Oh. I was just wondering.” Mike looked away, rubbing at his jawline, then turned back to the nurse. Then, out of the blue, “Dixie, do you know where John is from?”

 

“From?”

 

“Yeah. Where did he grow up?”

 

Dixie frowned at the question, wondering why Mike was interested. “He grew up on a reservation somewhere.”

 

“Where?”

 

She thought a moment. “Wyoming?” Mike’s expression fell, and then she corrected herself. “No wait. Not Wyoming. Montana, I think. Somewhere in Montana on a reservation.” She saw Mike’s face brighten and became curious. “Why do you want to know, Mike?”

 

Lost in thought, he suddenly brought his attention back to her. “Huh? Oh, no reason, Dix. Just curious.” As he walked away, Dixie thought sure she heard him mutter, ‘Well, I’ll be damned.’

 

 

                                               

Mike finally caught up with Johnny later that evening. He’d been told John was in the doctor’s lounge waiting for Gil. As he pushed the door open, he caught sight of Johnny sitting at a table alone, his head resting on arms folded across the table. Johnny’s turnout coat was draped across the back of the chair and his blue uniform shirt was stained with sweat.

 

Mike approached him slowly, the weight of the death of the girl they’d lost still heavily draped across his own shoulders. He touched Gage on the arm and the fireman lifted his head wearily. Bits of ash fluttered from his hair and down to his shoulders as he did so.

 

Watery bloodshot eyes lifted lethargically from a face blackened with soot. Weeks of inadequate sleep and stress had taken their toll on John at work, and he’d found it hard to tolerate the extreme heat of this fire. At one point during it he’d felt faint, nearly passing out. Knowledge of a young girl lost somewhere in the burning structure had driven him to continue his search, even though his energy had expired.

 

When he’d finally found the girl he’d despaired, for she was in dire straits. Johnny used every ounce of knowledge and will he had to save her, and had been able to deliver her to the hospital alive, but barely.

 

Now he looked up at the doctor. He knew it as soon as he saw Morton’s face, and his hopeful expression fell instantly. “Aw, damn it,” he murmured, looking away.

 

Mike sighed and moved toward the coffee pot. He spoke softly. “Hey, man, you did everything you could. We all did.”

 

Johnny’s response was a swipe across his face with a dirty hand.

 

Mike poured his coffee, then poured a second cup. “As a matter of fact, it’s a miracle you even got that girl here alive. Under the circumstances you did an amazing job of getting her ventilated. And doing CPR by yourself for fifteen straight minutes in the ambulance was downright Herculean, if you ask me.”

 

Johnny closed his eyes. “But it wasn’t enough to save her.”

 

“There’s only one person that could have done that, John. And you aren’t God.”

 

Johnny looked over at him forlornly, appreciating what Mike was trying to do. He was right. He’d known upon the initial examination of the girl that the burns were just too severe. He shook his head, wondering how any god could have let an innocent child die like that. “Man, she was only eleven years old.”

 

“It sucks.” Mike sat down at the table across from John and pushed a hot mug of coffee over to him.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Where was Gil through all this?”

 

“He had another victim.” Gage took a tentative sip of the coffee and looked toward the door. “He’s probably wonderin’ where the hell I am.”

 

“Yeah. You are a hard guy to track down.”

 

Johnny threw Mike a puzzled look.

 

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a few days.”

 

“Me?” Johnny put his hand to his chest. “Why?”

 

“Well, I have some tickets to a UCLA basketball game, and I was going to ask you if you’d like to go.”

 

Johnny looked nonplussed. He and Mike Morton had never done anything together outside of work before. “Why me?”

 

Mike shrugged. “I know you dig basketball. I was going to go with a friend and he cancelled on me. So I thought of you.”

 

The explanation seemed logical enough. But still, Johnny thought it odd that Mike would ask him.

 

“I tried calling you a few times but the operator said your number was disconnected.” Mike paused, contemplating how much to say.

 

Johnny looked away from the doctor. “Oh. Well, I’ve been having some trouble with my phone.” A rather deceitful explanation, he thought, but still true. The ‘phone trouble’ he’d had concerned listening devices.

 

Mike folded his arms in front of him. “Uh huh. So, I decided to drive out to your place.”

 

Johnny’s eyes widened, his gaze affixed to a tile on the floor.

 

“And I found out you’d moved.” Mike spoke very nonchalantly, every now and then sipping coffee from his cup.

 

Johnny didn’t admit or deny it. He was too caught off guard to answer. He chanced a glance at Mike.

 

“So, I decided to try to catch up with you at the station. But, you were all out; must have been on a run.”

 

Johnny sat staring like a deer caught in headlights, wondering where Mike was going with this.

 

“And now I know why you look so damned tired.” When Johnny said nothing, Mike plunged ahead. “Sleeping in your car isn’t exactly the best way to get a good night’s rest.”

 

Johnny guffawed nervously. “Morton, I don’t know what you’ve been takin’, but I’m certainly not living in my car.”

 

Mike frowned disgustedly. “Gage, I wasn’t born yesterday. I am a pretty intelligent guy, you know. I can put two and two together. I saw all the shit in your car.”

 

Johnny looked indignant. His voice rose a notch. “You were snooping around looking in my car?”

 

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice that large dent in the front end of your vehicle when I drove in, so naturally I was curious. It wasn’t until I got up close that I saw the sleeping bag, pillow, the clothes, etc.” He cocked his head. “John, where I grew up, I saw it all the time. It’s easy for me to recognize the signs.”

 

Johnny didn’t know what to say. “I don’t believe this!”

 

“Hey listen man, I’m not trying to put you down. I’m just trying to say – ”

 

“Look. I’m NOT living in my car. It’s just for a few days until I figure out where I want to go.” Damn. That hadn’t come out right at all.

 

Mike held up his hands. “It’s okay, John.” He leaned forward. “I’m not going to tell anyone – ”

 

“I don’t care if you tell anyone. I’m not tryin’ to hide anything.” He crossed his arms defensively.

 

“Of course you’re not. Listen, all I was going to do is to tell you that if you need a place to crash for a few days…you can do it at my place.”

 

Johnny was astounded. He stared at Morton like he was a creature from outer space for at least five seconds. “YOUR place?”

 

Mike shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

 

Johnny stared at him. His mind worked furiously to figure out why Mike Morton of all people would want to help him out. What motive could Mike have? He tried hard to connect the dots, but he was so tired the neurons upstairs just weren’t firing. After several long moments, Johnny asked warily, “Why would you do this?”

 

Mike looked hard at Johnny. Something in his eyes conveyed that he could see right into Johnny’s mind, and John fidgeted nervously.

 

“Let’s just say I have a feeling I understand what you’re going through.”

 

Johnny continued to stare in disbelief. Johnny wasn’t sure if Mike was trying to patronize him, or if he was truly speaking earnestly. How could Mike Morton possibly understand anything he was going through? And what exactly did Mike think he knew about his situation? Before he could contemplate further, Mike spoke again.

 

His voice softened. “I just thought you could use a friend, man.” Mike was saddened by the distrust in John’s eyes. He knew the look well; he’d grown up with it.

 

John’s eyes were narrowed with wariness. The sincerity in the man’s expression across from him finally sunk in, and the suspicion in the creases of his forehead smoothed.. His shoulders visibly relaxed. Mike could barely hear him when he spoke. “You’re right. I could.” He licked his lips. “Thanks, man.”

 

Morton pulled a pad of paper from his scrubs’ pocket and began writing something down. He tore off the piece and handed it to Gage, then fished in his pocket, pulling out a key. “Just let me know when you’ll be by.” He stood up, tossed the key on the table, then patted John on the shoulder once before he left.

 

Part 8