Page 80 of Paranoia

I had texted Harry earlier to give him a brief outline of the case. He might be on vacation, but I knew he’d be upset if he read this in the paper or heard it on the news rather than hearing about it from me.

Once again, the only one still awake when I got home was Brian. My eldest son was interested in the case. He’d seen a couple of brief stories on the arrest of Inspector Cantor but with no details. It was awfully nice to sit with my son, watch the news for a little bit, and unwind before I tried to sleep.

Mary Catherine didn’t stir as I slipped into bed. I even managed to get out of the bedroom the following morning without waking her. Technically, I was now on leave because of the shooting. So I made a giant breakfast for all the kids and got them all off to school without a hitch.

Dennis Wu texted to tell me that Celeste Cantor was in stable condition and expected to make a full recovery. Everyone available was looking for Kevin Doyle. I knew a guy like that was smart enough to get out of the city. He’d probably left last night. Still, I appreciated hearing from Wu. Maybe he wasn’t entirely the unredeemable asshole we’d all made him out to be.

I slipped back into bed after bringing Mary Catherine some toast and juice. We cuddled for a few minutes. Then she lay across my chest and looked at my tablet.

Mary Catherine said, “So far I haven’t seen your name in the news stories.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way. This case is a black eye for the NYPD.”

We watched a video report. Someone had leaked everything about the Land Sharks. The story talked about how the group hadn’t reported seized money or admitted it into evidence,though the reporter also mentioned that it was believed the Sharks had put most of the money into more elaborate investigations and ultimately even toward the building of a tremendous youth center in the Bronx. I smiled at that, thinking about the other youth center built with Richard Deason’s money.

I knew most reporters would discount any of the information about what the Land Sharks did for the community. I couldn’t blame them at all. No one hates a crooked cop more than another cop.

We kept watching the next few stories. One had to do with the owner of a Brooklyn diner who’d been shot behind his restaurant. His tearful niece named Tammy went on and on about how she’d miss him. Witnesses said a tattooed man who looked like a biker had just walked up and shot the diner owner. That was the kind of homicide I’d like to be on for the next few months. Something simple and direct.

The last story was a short one about a fugitive named Kevin Doyle. I was surprised they didn’t associate it with the story about Celeste Cantor being arrested, but maybe no one had yet made the same connection Walter Jackson did. The same old photo of Doyle from the Department of Defense flashed on the screen.

As Mary Catherine snuggled up close to me, I wondered what had become of Kevin Doyle.

CHAPTER 120

MARY CATHERINE AND I had a Friday afternoon appointment with our fertility ob-gyn, and by then I was able to tune out most of the noise about the big case. Sure, I answered a few calls from the bigwigs at One Police Plaza, but overall it was starting to feel like a true day off. And one I’d certainly earned.

I held Mary Catherine’s hand through each test and scan. She was in good spirits, chatting with each of the different techs. I never knew if it was her accent or just her pleasant personality that most attracted people to her. Mary Catherine could talk to anyone and make them feel like they were the only ones in the world at that moment.

Neither of us would admit to the butterflies in our stomachs as we waited for the doctor to meet us in an office.

Mary Catherine reached across from her chair to grasp my hand. We were sitting in identical chairs facing a small conferenceroom table. No one had made any comments about any of the tests performed so far today. I was still nervous.

Mary Catherine’s stomach gurgled so loudly I inadvertently turned my head. She shrugged and gave me that beautiful smile. “I guess I’m a little hungry, and God knows what else is going on inside this belly.” She patted her stomach.

“I can fix the hungry part. And no matter what’s going on inside your belly, I’m with you. I think we’ve proven the whole family is with you, whatever happens.”

She smiled. “I’m glad Ricky got his audition. This seems like a big step for him. I hope that host isn’t too tough on him. Ricky can be a little sensitive as well.”

“Brian and I will be there. If it gets out of hand, I’m sure we’ll be able to deal with it.”

Mary Catherine was quiet for a moment. She left her hand resting on her stomach. Then she said, “Michael, no matter what happens, you and the kids have made me so happy. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine with another kid on the way. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you, Dr. Bennett, but I think I’ll wait to hear what our real doctor has to say.”

Just then the door to the conference room opened and Dr. Christina Ashe took the chair across the table from us. I liked how direct Dr. Ashe was. At the moment, she wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t seem upset. That was sort of the vibe we always got from her. I didn’t know if she was just focused all the time or if it was a defense mechanism she had set up for dealing with disappointed couples unable to have a child.

The doctor seemed to take her own sweet time organizing her papers before she looked up and said, “How do you feel, Mary Catherine? I mean, how do you honestly feel being out of bed?”

“I guess I hadn’t really evaluated it.” Mary Catherine closed her eyes for a moment like she was taking a silent inventory of her aches and pains. “The only thing I can say that has changed is that I get a little bit dizzy walking around.”

The doctor said, “I’d say that you’ve stabilized. Things seem to be going well, and I think we can ease you off bed rest.”

Mary Catherine lit up and clapped her hands.

The doctor held up her hand. “But I want to make sure you won’t overdo it.” She shifted her eyes to me. “I’m counting on the two of you being vigilant. No housework, no lifting, and only short walks.”

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