Shocks
Elizabeth Mc.
Ben looked away from his prisoner for a moment when the phone rang. His new partner plucked up the receiver with just a glance in his direction.
"This is Benton, sir," the young man replied after listening for a moment.
Ben had to smile. They had been through this with some frequency since the two of them were partnered. He continued typing the arrest form based on Carl Bolton's file. The big man shifted in his seat, clearly unhappy with the handcuffs binding him.
"I'm sorry, sir. Do you mean Constable Fraser or Constable Benton?"
A pause followed before the younger man handed the phone over. He mouthed the word "Frobisher" and Ben nodded his understanding as he stood up to trade places with him.
"Constable Fraser speaking."
"Ah, Benton, good to hear your voice. What's going on with that other fellow? He get hit by the stupid stick or what?"
"His name is Constable Frasier Benton, Sir."
"Oh. Well, that explains it then. I bet it's a bit confusing, eh?"
"Yes, sir. An unfortunate coincidence."
"I'd say so. Have you apprehended that scoundrel, Ugly Caraway Bolton, yet?"
"Yes, Sir. Constable Benton and I are just completing the necessary forms. We located him about fifteen miles east of . . . "
"Let Benton handle it," Frobisher interrupted. "I've booked you on a flight to Chicago. Your transport will be leaving at 3:20. You can pick up the rest of your flight information when you land. Very short layovers between flights, Benton, you'll need to move quickly."
"I'm sorry, sir. I don't understand. Why am I going to Chicago?" The lengthy pause was all Ben needed to know that something serious had happened. He held his breath, waiting for the blow to follow.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, son, but that detective friend of yours . . . the fake one . . . blond hair . . . ah, here it is, Kowalski. He was killed in the line of duty yesterday afternoon. His funeral is tomorrow. I knew you'd want to attend so I've had the necessary arrangements made."
Ben pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the receiver. He heard the cessation of typing and noticed that Frasier had stopped processing the prisoner.
"You all right, Ben? All the colors gone from your face."
Placing the phone back to his ear, Ben indicated that he understood and thanked Frobisher for the information.
"What's going on?" Fraiser asked as Ben put the phone down.
"I have to go to Chicago for a few days."
Ben picked up the receiver again and dialed. When Constable Jim Potter answered he said, "Jim, would you come to the office and assist Fraiser with some processing?"
"Sure thing, Ben. Something come up?"
"I have to go out of town for a few days and we've just arrested Carl Bolton."
"Oh, gotcha. Is everything okay? You sound funny."
"I'm fine, thank you. We'll see you in a few minutes."
Ben hung up and leaned against the desk. He pushed all thoughts of Ray Kowalski out of his head. He couldn't think about him until he was relieved from duty.
"You didn't have to call Jim in, Ben, we've already done the hard part with old Caraway."
"Carl . . . my name is Carl . . . jeez, where do you guys get these stupid nicknames?"
"I have every confidence in you, Fraiser but it's better to be safe. Once Jim arrives, I'll be heading out directly."
"Why are you going to Chicago, anyway?"
"My friend . . . my friend . . . " his voice cracked a moment. He paused to breathe and close his eyes before continuing; "My friend has died." He finally finished. "Will you care for Dief while I'm gone?"
"Oh, man, I'm sorry, Ben. Sure, I'll pick him up after work."
"Thank you kindly. I'll leave the key beneath the mat."
Ben sat quietly at the second desk until Jim arrived. After giving the briefest of explanations, he hurried back to his apartment to pack.
The flight from arctic Canada to Chicago was long, complicated and frustrating. Ben barely had time to run from one connection to another and he wondered who had actually made the travel arrangements. He knew there were more expedient routes to take.
The only plus to all of this confusion was his limited time to think. All Frobisher said was that it happened in the line of duty. Ben had been too shocked to ask questions. Now, as he hustled through airports and check-in counters, his mind wanted answers. He couldn't keep Kowalski's face from his mind, his open, angular features, never hiding any emotion, always a hair-trigger from exploding. He could see him in the boxing ring. He could see him behind the wheel of his GTO. A picture jumped to his mind of Ray interrogating a suspect, threatening to "kick him in the head". Ben had to smile at this. And the smile turned to pain. How could he be dead?
Ben remembered driving him to the airport on Ray's last day in Canada. Their leave was over, they hadn't found the "Hand of Franklin" and both men were depressed. Neither had wanted the adventure to end and both were apprehensive about the future.
They hadn't actually expected to find Franklin's "reaching out hand" but their adventure had been exciting. They had agreed early on that the looking was more important than the finding and they made the most of the search. Time had moved very quickly during those months. Much faster than either wanted.
In the end, Ray tried to convince him to return to Chicago. He was deeply disappointed that Ben wanted to stay in Canada. At first, he was angry but that finally gave way to understanding. When they parted, they were friends. And even if Ben ached because of the physical separation, he was glad for their close bond.
Ben had waved to him as Ray reached the door of the small shuttle plane. Ray had turned around and waved back with his full watt smile. Ben had tried to match the expression but failed miserably.
Their relationship since that day had dissolved into weekly and bi-weekly phone calls. They shared their cases and their lives but it wasn't the same as their day-to-day partnership and Ben fully expected that the phone calls would eventually grow less frequent until they were reduced to exchanging cards at Christmas.
Sitting in this final aircraft and circling Chicago, Ben skewered that last thought at the core. It wouldn't necessarily have ended that way. And now, it didn't matter. Of course, now he would have taken the yearly Christmas card and treasured it.
He stepped off the plane into the brightly lit airport with hundreds of people bustling around him and tried not to remember his first day in Chicago when he was looking for his father's murderers.
He startled when he heard a familiar voice call to him.
Appearing through a small cluster of people, Ray Vecchio approached, holding out his hand and smiling. Fraser reached out only to be pulled into a hug that held on just a bit longer than normal. Ray backed away after a moment, already telling him how glad he was to see him and perusing him from head to toe.
Ben took a moment to study his friend as well. Dressed in jeans and an oversized jersey, he barely resembled the Ray Vecchio he remembered. Still balding, still lean and tall, but also tired looking with deep lines framing his mouth. His eyes were still bright green but there was something flat inside them. And the clothes could be described as sloppy rather than casual.
"You look good, Benny."
"Thank you kindly."
"Yeah," Ray said, his eyes growing brighter. "I missed that. Listen, Benny, I'm really sorry about Kowalski."
Ben nodded his thank you but couldn't trust himself to answer. Ray seemed to understand as he clapped him gently on the back.
"I heard you were coming in so I got your flight information from the Consulate. No point in taking a cab when I'm here too."
"That's very kind of you, Ray."
"And Ma wants you to stay with us. Doesn't want you living out of a hotel when you've got family here."
"I wouldn't want to impose."
"You know better than to think you are." Ben gave him a grateful smile. "You got luggage?"
"Just a bag."
"Well, let's go get it. Then we gotta stop at the bar and, uh, pick up Stella."
Hearing Stella's name made the pieces fall into place. Of course, she would want to go to the funeral of her ex-husband. Ray must have come to Chicago with her from Florida to attend the funeral.
Ben felt a surprising gratitude to Ray. While they also shared periodic phone calls, they had nearly reached the Christmas card stage. With profound regret, Ben knew they would never be the friends they had once been making his arrival here to rescue him from the airport and offer him a place to stay welcome and unexpected.
They retrieved his bag from the carousel. Ray led him back through the airport to a small unenclosed bar. From the concourse, Ben spotted Stella Kowalski Vecchio sitting beside a male traveler. She was leaning towards him unsteadily and laughing. She held some sort of amber liquid in a glass. Ray looked embarrassed when he asked Ben to wait for a moment.
Inside the bar, Vecchio approached his wife quickly. His mannerisms reflected his anger. They exchanged words before she slipped off the stool clumsily and allowed him to lead her out of the bar.
"Oh, Constable Fraser, you managed to find a dog sled." Stella laughed at her joke. She was still blond and trim but there were lines on her face that he didn't remember and the sun didn't glow in her skin so much as dull it.
"It's nice to see you, Mrs. Vecchio." He said, formally. He thought he saw Ray wince at that.
"Sure, it is. Always nice to gather for a tragedy."
Ben took a breath at that and Ray shook his head, coloring at her comment. The three of them managed to exit the airport and reach the car without further conversation.
The drive to the Vecchio home was tense. Stella started a barrage of drunken sarcasm aimed at her husband. For his part, Ray mostly ignored her and tried to talk to Ben. When that became impossible due to Stella's unnecessary commentary on every word he spoke, the men fell silent.
Arriving at the Vecchio's was a relief. Ben received hugs from Ray's mother and his sister, Maria. Maria's husband, Tony, shook his hand.
Once the welcome and sympathy were expressed, Ray showed him upstairs to the guestroom.
"I notice that Francesca wasn't downstairs," Ben commented.
"Oh, she's living with a family a few blocks over. She's a full-time nanny to their kids. They're real wealthy and they travel a lot so she looks after, I don't know, five or six kids, something like that."
"I'm surprised she gave up her position at the station."
"I was too. Ma thinks she's a frustrated mother or something so she's getting her maternal inclinations filled up over there."
"And what of you, Ray? Do you like Florida? Is the bowling alley going well?"
"Let's not talk about that, okay? How're you doing? You like being back home?"
Ben hesitated a moment, not really certain if he should let Ray brush off his inquiry. He decided to let it go for now hoping they would have time to talk later.
"Sometimes. I enjoy the work more. I was recently assigned a partner named Frasier Benton."
"You're kidding."
"Unfortunately, no." Ray chuckled. "He's a fine officer, very capable."
"It could only happen to you, Benny."
Ben laughed too. "It's a temporary problem. He wants to move to Toronto."
"You're probably the only guy they have that likes all that unpopulated cold and snow."
"Sometimes it seems that way." An uncomfortable silence came between them. Ben looked at his friend, trying not to feel the sadness that brought.
"Do you know what happened to Ray?' Ben asked finally, partly dreading the answer and partly needing it.
"Welsh told me that Kowalski was investigating some car fence. He was on the scene when one guy killed another guy. He was the only witness so he was the key to the SA's case. Anyway, he started getting threats and Welsh said he tried to get him to go to ground for a while but Kowalski wouldn't do it. I guess he even tried to convince him to go see you but he refused. The day before yesterday, somebody set a charge in his apartment. Bomb guys said it was attached to the stove. When he turned on the burner, the apartment went up."
Ben sank down on the bed. He noticed he wasn't breathing when Ray touched his shoulder. Slowly, he took air into his lungs.
"Was anyone else hurt?" He asked.
"No. It was professional enough to stay localized."
"What of the turtle?"
"The what?"
"Ray Kowalski kept a turtle. Do you know what became of it?"
"No, Benny, I'm sorry. I don't know." Ray sat down next to him.
"There's no question that it was him. I mean, with an explosion . . . "
"I'm sorry, Benny."
Ben stood up. He walked across the room to look out the window and to escape the too close presence of his friend.
"Have those responsible been apprehended?" He asked.
"Welsh said they have the guy who planted the bomb but he's not talking. Won't say who hired him."
Ray stood up, plunging both hands into his pockets.
"Listen, why don't you grab a shower. Take a nap, if you want. Dinner's not for a couple hours. I'll wake you."
"Are his parents here?"
"No. Welsh said they had a falling out with him a couple months ago. When he called them, they refused to come. Welsh had to make all the, uh, arrangements."
"He didn't tell me." Ray didn't respond to the desperation that Ben knew he projected. How could he? There was no answer for why Ray Kowalski neglected to confide such an important piece of information.
"All right, Benny, look, I'll see ya in a couple hours, okay?" Ben nodded. He didn't trust his voice. "Okay, good." Ray stopped at the door. "I'm sorry I can't do more than this."
"You've done a great deal, Ray. I'll be all right."
Ray nodded and shut the door behind him.
Taking Ray's advice, Fraser showered and changed into fresh clothes. Sleep came quicker than expected. He hadn't expected to sleep at all.
Some time later he woke to loud voices near the bedroom door. He sat up, alarmed at first until the voices and their owners took shape.
"You dragged me to Florida, Ray. I never wanted to go."
"Oh, God, not that again. Do we have to have the same fight every time?"
"I'm a lawyer. A good lawyer. I hate that stupid business. I hate living down there."
"I told you we could sell it. Nothing's keeping us there."
"You think I want to just leave my life again? You think that'll fix it?"
"Maybe you should cut down on the booze, Stella. You've been in a fog since we got there."
"Oh, please. You're making excuses because you couldn't make the alley work and you can't make me be some Barbie doll wife."
"I never wanted you to be anything, and you know it. I'm not taking the blame because you decided to crawl into a bottle instead of working out what's wrong. Hell, I don't even know what's wrong with you. I keep asking but you won't tell me."
"I won't tell you? God, you're worse than Ray was. Listen to me."
"I've been listening. I'm tired of listening and I'm tired of fighting. You wanna leave Florida, then we'll leave. If you think that's what it'll take, I'll do it. I want you to be happy, Stella. I want us to be."
"You already are, Ray. You love being the big shot. You love being the big fish in your little, worthless pond. You think I want to be the bad guy? The shrew that took all your happy dreams?"
Softer. "Stell . . . "
"Don't touch me. And don't even think about sleeping in here. You wanted to stay with your family, then fine, here we are. Let them see how happy we are."
"Please, Stella, I know you're upset about Kowal . . . "
"Oh, yes, that's right, Ray, let's just blame it on him. Because we've been so joyously happy until two days ago."
"I don't know what to do for you."
"Give me my life back." A door slammed and a curse followed.
Ben exhaled the breath he had been holding.
He heard Mrs. Vecchio call to her son. Ray started to argue but a moment later Ben could almost hear her embrace him. He sighed, relieved that Ray had his family.
He waited a few minutes before emerging from the bedroom. He was grateful to find the upstairs hall empty and to hear the rest of the family chattering and moving about downstairs.
He dodged a small child and a couple others that weren't so small. He accepted a kiss on the cheek from Maria. And then he made it to the kitchen where Mrs. Vecchio handed him a stack of plates and asked him to set the table. Ray stood up from his place at the kitchen table and tried to intervene by reminding his mother that Fraser was company.
"Nonsense, Raymundo, you know Benton is family."
Ben felt a warm flush at her affection as he took the plates to the dining room. Ray followed with silverware and cloth napkins. A few minutes later, Mrs. Vecchio called the family to dinner.
Stella showed up with an embarrassed smile several minutes after the rest of the family had settled in. She kissed Ray on the cheek and sat beside him. Like Ben, she stayed quiet through the meal. The rest of the Vecchio's bantered and badgered each other as they always did. Afterwards Stella complained of a headache and retired for the night.
Ben offered to wash the dishes but Mrs. Vecchio shooed him out of her kitchen. He found Ray in the living room and suggested they take a walk.
They reached the end of the first block before either man spoke.
"I heard your disagreement with Stella," Ben admitted.
"You and everyone else."
"Things aren't going well?"
"What do you think?" Ben raised his eyebrows but didn't respond to what he assumed was a rhetorical question. He didn't have to wait long before Ray continued.
"We can't stay together, Benny. I thought we could at first. Figured we just did everything fast and we needed time to get used to each other. But, that's not it. She hates Florida and she hates the bowling alley. I don't know if I do but it's not like being a cop. I don't feel like myself down there, ya know? And we don't like each other. I think she really hates me. Thinks I ruined her life. Thinks I made her stop being a lawyer. I mean . . . we talked about it before we did it, Benny, I didn't force her into anything. We made all the arrangements together.
"Now she makes it sound like I put a gun to her head. She's started drinking a lot. You know I can't take that after the way my father was. And whether she's drunk or not, we're still fighting all the time. At least when we're not avoiding each other completely."
"Physically violent?" Ben asked, concerned.
"No, not like that. But, God, that tongue of hers can rip you in two sometimes."
Ray stopped walking. He looked up into the clear, cold sky and shivered.
"I haven't told her yet. I was gonna but what with Kowalski and everything, I couldn't. I'm going back and sell the business. She can buy my half or just take the profit. But, I'm giving it up and moving back here."
"Then you're planning to divorce?"
"Called a lawyer yesterday. I know it's rotten doing this now, but I won't let her get served or anything right away. I'll give her time to deal with this first."
"I'm sorry, Ray. I know you wanted this to work."
"Who knows what I wanted? I wanted security. I wanted stability. Maybe I just wanted a real life again. In the beginning, Stella gave me that stuff. I guess it wasn't enough for either of us."
"It's difficult to know what we want sometimes even when it seems clear."
They walked another block, watching the cold air form mist before their mouths. A quarter moon moved through and around the scattered clouds above them.
"You're not happy back in Canada, are ya?"
Ben smiled, appreciating his friend's intuition. He pushed his hands further into his pockets.
"I suppose not."
"How come? As long as I've known you, that's all you wanted."
"I don't know. I should be. I'm doing work that I love. I have a few friends. Not like I've made here, but still I'm not as solitary as I once was. I don't know, for some reason, it doesn't seem to be enough."
"You're not cozying up in an igloo with some nice Inuit girl?" He gave Ray his first real smile since stepping off the plane.
"No, Ray, I'm not seeing anyone."
"Ya ever hear from Thatcher?"
"No. I have heard about her occasionally, but her work is largely secretive in nature."
"Do you miss her?"
"Sometimes," Ben answered thoughtfully.
"I really thought you two would . . . you know."
"There were moments when I thought so as well. But I changed while you were gone that year, Ray. I discovered there were things that I wanted, things that I never stopped to realize before."
"Like what?"
"I'm afraid that whatever I wanted is no longer possible."
Ray seemed to consider that for a moment before he started walking again.
"Well, things aren't going too well for either of us, are they?"
"Apparently not."
Their moment of companionship passed quickly when Ben remembered why he was in Chicago. It was almost a physical blow when Ray Kowalski nudged back to the forefront of his mind. His breath caught with the pain of it. Ray must have noticed because he placed a firm and comforting hand on his shoulder.
The day of the funeral bloomed bright and cold with a sky that was too clear and too blue for such a dismal occasion.
Ray had never declared a religion so Welsh arranged for the service to be held in a small multi-denominational church. Stella complained during breakfast that he could have phoned her or Ray's parents and discovered that he was Catholic but he didn't bother to do that.
Ray had rented a car for him and Stella. He never replaced the 1971 Buick Riviera that Ben and Ray Kowalski drove into Lake Michigan so long ago.
Ben rode with Mrs. Vecchio, Maria and Tony in Maria's car. Maria's children were left in the care of a neighbor.
They arrived about twenty minutes before the service was to begin. There were a lot of police officers present and both Ben and Ray re-made old acquaintances. Notably Jack Huey and his partner, Tom Dewey were there, as well as Elaine Besbriss. Ben was distracted from talking with her when Francesca arrived. She kissed him chastely on the cheek and gave him a hug before introducing him to her boyfriend. The man eyed him suspiciously before leading Francesca away.
Lieutenant Welsh entered from a side room. Ben was standing alone when he approached.
"Constable." He said, shaking Ben's hand.
"Lieutenant . . . sir . . . thank you for contacting Sergeant Frobisher. I would've regretted not coming in."
"I thought you might. After the service, can you come back to the station? Bring Vecchio with you? There's some details on this case that I'd you to look over."
"Yes, Sir. I'd like to help."
"Good. I appreciate that, Constable."
Welsh went to the front of the chapel. This appeared to be the appropriate signal as everyone settled into seats. Ben sat beside Mrs. Vecchio and she held his hand. Ray and Stella sat away from the family.
"Thank you for coming," Welsh said. "The minister will be here in a moment to say a few passages. I think Ray would've wanted a short service. So we're going to honor that."
To call the service short was giving it a lot of credit. When the minister arrived, he drew back a curtain to reveal a photograph of Ray Kowalski. The photo showed a young officer with a buzz cut, bright, blue eyes and dressed in his rookie uniform. Ben barely recognized him. Stella started to cry a bit too loudly. The minister read from the Bible for a few moments, he led the mourners in a brief prayer and closed the service.
Start to finish, the ceremony lasted eighteen minutes. Twenty minutes after that, Ben, Ray and Stella were saying good-bye to Huey and Dewey in the parking lot. Mrs. Vecchio and the rest of the family had already left.
Ben felt unsteady. The service provided barely enough time to register that Ray was gone. With no casket and the photo of a stranger, he couldn't quite reconcile his grief. Instead of the aura of sadness that had been filling him, he was angry. It was disrespectful to dispatch Ray so quickly and formally. There were tears and comforting hugs among them but none of it seemed like enough. There was no heart.
He glanced at Stella but she was so wrapped up in herself, he doubted that she noticed. And who else was there? His parents didn't come. He had thought they might realize their error and make an appearance at their son's funeral but that didn't happen. And Ben knew that Ray had a brother. Where was he?
Ben tried to suppress the negative feelings. He reminded himself that what mattered was Ray's life, not the manner in which he was put to rest. Still, he couldn't quite quell the bitterness.
After Huey and Dewey exited in a car with a large sticker on the back proclaiming "The One-Liner", Ben, Ray and Stella climbed into the rental.
Stella sat in the front passenger seat. She was still crying silently, refusing all offers of comfort from Ray. Ben sat in the back and tried not to look behind him. Watching the chapel grow further away would remind him that somewhere in that building lay the remains of his friend.
"You know," Ben said, forcing a steady tone into his voice. "By the time Ray left Canada he was an accomplished outdoorsman. He had a natural ability in the wild. Not everyone does as well."
"Like that matters now," Stella said, viciously.
"Stella," Ray admonished.
For the first time, Ben felt the tears at the back of his eyes. He blinked a few times as he concentrated on the passing scenery.
"Why are we doing this?" Stella asked. "Why are we going to the station?"
"I told you, you didn't have to come. The lieutenant just wants to review the case with us."
"You're not even a detective anymore."
"We're trying to help out." Ray said, sounding tired.
When Ray turned the corner, Ben felt a shiver at the row of apartment houses. Stella sat forward, clutching at the purse in her lap.
"Pull over, Ray," Ben said.
"No, don't," Stella said.
"What is it?" Ray asked as he pulled over.
"Ray's apartment." Ben opened the car door.
He walked half a block back and looked up towards Ray's window. A black hole strung with caution tape replaced the glass. There was a notice tacked to the door advising residents that they'd be able to return home soon.
Police tape crisscrossed the front door. Ben approached it slowly. Ray joined him.
"You can't go in, Benny, they're still investigating."
"I know, I just . . . ¦"
"Jeez, I'm sorry about this. I didn't know this was his place."
"It's all right, it's just . . . I can't seem to . . . I just . . . " His voice cracked. There was no wetness to his eyes but he felt the tears just the same. He wrapped his arms in front of him. Ray put a hand against his back stroking firmly trying to comfort him and knowing it wasn't possible. Ben let his emotions go for only a moment before he straightened his shoulders with vicious determination.
"We should go," he said as he spun smartly and returned to the car.
The three entered the station house silently. They had not visited the 27th District Station in several months and they were all feeling a bit nervous. Ray led the way up the steps and into the bullpen. Fraser glanced at the familiar desk where a chair still sat and a silver plate with the name "Detective R. Kowalski" shined back at him.
He recognized a few of the detectives but most of the faces were new.
"Thank you for coming," Welsh said as he came out of his office. "I wasn't aware you'd be bringing the former A.S.A."
"He was my husband at one time," Stella said.
"Yes, ma'am, he was. Would you all come with me, please?"
They followed him to Interrogation Room 2. The lieutenant opened the door. Stella entered first, followed by Ray and Ben. In the middle of the table sat a clear bowl containing one small turtle. Ben sighed, relieved beyond reason that Ray's turtle had survived.
"Please sit down." He waved at the chairs.
"That the turtle?" Ray asked as he pulled out a chair for Stella.
"Yes," Ben answered as he sat down across from the bowl.
Ray waited until his wife was settled and then he sat one chair away from her.
"You gonna bring the file in, Lieutenant?" Ray asked.
"Yes. The file. Look, there's no good way to do this so I'm just going to do it. Try not to overreact if that's possible which it probably isn't."
Welsh opened the door that would lead to the observation area.
Ray Kowalski entered slowly, staring first at his feet, then around the room, then back to his feet. He was dressed in his trademark blue jeans with a blue t-shirt over a white thermal undershirt. His blond hair was spiked the way he always wore it. The clothing and hair matched him so well that Ben thought he must be dreaming. He watched as the apparition approached Stella.
"Stell," Ray said, crouching down in front of her with a small wince.
She flung back before anyone could move and slapped him hard enough to knock him off balance and onto one knee.
"You bastard," she said. Ray Vecchio jumped up but it wasn't clear if he intended to defend his wife or to protect her recently alive ex-husband.
"That's enough," Welsh ordered.
"No, it's okay, Lieutenant, she's got reason," Ray Kowalski said.
Ben took in the burn on his cheek and the way he pushed unsteadily to his feet. Even with Welsh for help, he was obviously weak. Welsh pulled a chair out for him. Ray Vecchio sat back down but he had moved one chair closer to his wife.
Ben watched the exchange with a myriad of thoughts coursing through him. Disbelief stood out from the rest. Relief was running a close second. As he took a good look at his resurrected friend, his heart pounded like a vicious hammer in his chest. Ray was pale with dark circles rimming his eyes. He was sitting slightly sideways as if it hurt to sit upright. His left wrist was wrapped in a bandage. But he was real, physically solid.
"Don't go blaming him," Welsh said. "He didn't want to do it."
"Maybe somebody better explain," Ray Vecchio said.
"You know most of it." Welsh said. "He witnessed a hit. He arrested a guy named Tony Bononno. Bononno started making threats that if Kowalski didn't get amnesia, he was gonna get killed. We took him seriously."
"Yeah, but not soon enough." Ray said. "They blew up my apartment. I'd be dead right now if the bomb had worked like it was supposed to. But, it didn't blow when I turned on the burner. I made it to my bedroom before the explosion."
"He's lucky it didn't kill him anyway," Welsh said. "He got hurt and his neighbors thought he was dead. That's how this started. We were just gonna keep him under wraps until the trial."
Both men paused and Ben was grateful for the chance to catch up with his emotions. He was having trouble feeling anything but shock but gradually the utter joy was filling him.
"He wouldn't let us lie to his parents so we called them and they agreed to stay away," Welsh continued. "If anyone checked, they were gonna say they were estranged from him. But, everyone else had to be told. It had to be believable."
"I had no idea they were gonna call you, Fraser, I swear to God, I wouldn't have let them."
Ben was still too stunned by all of this to respond. Stella saved him from a lengthy silence.
"But, it was all right to tell me."
"Come on, Stell. You're married to someone else. It's not like you've been liking me for a couple years now. I really didn't think it'd hit you that hard."
"Bastard," she said and stalked out of the room. Ray Vecchio watched her go but made no move to follow. Ray Kowalski had returned to staring at his feet.
"About an hour before the funeral service, I got a phone call from Special Agent Ford. He said that Bononno was mugged and killed last night. Ford's investigating but it looks unrelated to any of this."
"So, it's safe to bring him back to life," Ray Vecchio said.
"With Bononno dead and Art Bristol, that's the guy who planted the explosive, in jail, there's no reason to continue with the ruse."
"You said an hour before the funeral?" Ben asked, speaking for the first time.
"Yeah," Ray answered. "It was too late to stop the service. And I didn't wanna just show up. I kept remembering when you came back to life during that funeral we gave you and everybody fainted. I didn't wanna make a big scene."
"And I didn't expect your wife to come down to the station with you, Vecchio," Welsh said. "I had hoped you'd tell her later, in private."
"Sorry, Lieutenant, she wanted to come. Well, sort of anyway."
"Hey, I need a minute alone with Fraser," Ray Kowalski interrupted. Welsh and Ray Vecchio exchanged looks before they left the room.
Ben leaned across the table separating them.
"Are you all right?" He asked quietly.
"Yeah," Ray answered, nodding. "A few bruises is all. How about you?"
"A few bruises," Ben admitted.
"I'm really sorry about this."
"Ray, I'm happy to see you. I thought . . . well, you know, of course. I'm glad that you were kept safe. I'd go through all of this again as long as it kept you safe."
Ray laughed sounding self-conscious. "That's probably the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me."
"I mean it."
"Yeah, I know. You don't say stuff you don't mean." Ray looked towards the closed door. "Neither does Stella."
"She's just surprised and . . . upset."
Ray rubbed his forehead. Ben noticed the cuts along the fingers, the bandage on his wrist and he shuddered at how close Ray had come to dying.
"I should never have let them talk me into this." He sat forward, his hands gripped together against the table, exhaustion radiating out of clouded eyes. "It was a stupid idea and with Bononno getting himself iced, it was pointless too."
"There was no way for anyone to expect a mugging. Are you certain that his death is unrelated to this?"
"Yeah, it looks random. But, you know, even if it was related, I was the key against him, nobody else so his being dead takes me out of it."
Ben nodded his understanding. "You need to lie down," he said, satisfied that his friend was safe.
"I am one whipped puppy."
Ben stood up to look at the two-way mirror as if he could see the other side.
"I'm very glad you're here, Ray." He watched Ray's reflection grin.
"Thanks for not belting me. I never would've gotten off the floor after Stella's shot."
"I don't want to belt you," Ben said.
Ray struggled a bit to get his balance as he stood. Ben reached out a hand and steadied him.
"I'm taking Stella back to the house," he said. "She doesn't want to talk to you yet."
"I figured. I'll call her later."
"Yeah, you do that. I'm gonna get her out of here."
He left and Welsh came back in.
"Come on, Kowalski, I'll drive you back to your hotel."
"Do you mind if I tag along?" Ben asked.
"That's a good idea," Welsh said. "He's still not getting around that well."
Ben agreed despite Ray's scowl. He followed them down the hall and out of the building wondering at the series of events that brought him back to Chicago. He was not a man that believed in divine intervention or even fate. He believed that individuals created their own destinies and yet, look where fate had brought him. Back to the city that seemed like home under circumstances that could best be described as bizarre and away from a home that seemed foreign
He climbed into the backseat of Lieutenant Welsh's car and impulsively reached forward to put his hand on Ray's shoulder, finding reassurance in the feel of bone and skin. He snatched his hand back, startled when the other backseat door opened.
"Mind if I catch a ride, Lieutenant?" Ray Vecchio asked. The other men in the car looked at him quizzically. He shrugged as he got in. "She took the car."
Ben accepted the world weary smile that Ray gave him as he buckled his seatbelt. He returned it, hoping he conveyed his support and confidence.
They were all battered but Ben didn't feel depressed. He sympathized with Ray Vecchio's emotional upheaval and empathized with Ray Kowalski's physical aches. But he also felt their friendship as strongly as ever and the bond gave him comfort. Their presence forced him to realize what he had known all along but chose to ignore. His home no longer existed in solitude but rather in the company of friends. He decided to keep his epiphany to himself. He'd tell them later, after the transfer was approved.
"I think that's everybody," Welsh said. "There aren't any other Rays lurking around the parking lot, are there?"
"I think all the Rays are present and accounted for, sir," Ben said, grateful that it was true.
End
Return to the
Ride Forever Archive