Amanda's Blue Marine (20 page)

Mandy picked up the box Karen had brought and then put it down.

It would be a while before she felt hungry again.

* * * * *

Mandy was released from the hospital, went back to work, refused all press interviews, and tried to resume a normal existence. The meeting with Internal Affairs had gone as well as could be expected; she followed Kelly’s advice and told the investigators as little as possible. When they realized that she wasn’t going to talk and would provide them with monosyllabic answers to every question, they went away pretty quickly. Mandy did get the impression that they knew a lot more had happened than what she was willing to reveal, but she also knew that short of a legal proceeding they couldn’t compel her to discuss it. When she heard no more on the subject she guessed that the matter had been dropped and Kelly was in the clear, at least as far as his conduct with her was concerned.

The wreckage of the DA’s office had landed in a warehouse two blocks from the original building, and everything in the new digs was chaos. The whole staff was working to locate records and reorganize the existing cases which had been interrupted by the fire. It was a monumental job and Mandy felt guilty for putting everyone in the position of trying to reconstruct their lives and careers. But she hadn’t made Cameron crazy and she hadn’t asked him to fixate on her. She was relieved that no one seemed to blame her for the resulting disarray and she tried to work hard to make up for it.

That wasn’t difficult, since she had plenty of free time. Tom stayed around long enough to register the fact that she had recovered and then disappeared to the Orient again. Mandy didn’t care; his departure provided her with a welcome break from dealing with the status of their relationship, which was in limbo.

She was more worried about Kelly’s absence from her life than Tom’s.

Two weeks went by without a single word from the man who had saved her life. She checked her cell phone hourly. She asked the office assistant so many times if anyone beyond business contacts had called for her that Celia began to look at her strangely. Mandy blamed the newly installed phone lines at the temp office for the silence, but she knew she was kidding herself. The message machine at her condo, which she maintained to screen solicitations and random inquiries she might not want to take personally, registered nothing from Kelly. Worried bulletins from her mother and sarcastic one liners from Karen filled the tape. It was some time before Mandy allowed herself to realize that Kelly was not going to get in touch with her, that he considered their relationship over and she was not going to see him again.

The very idea of it was like a death. She had to see him. She stopped herself from calling him every day, since it was clear to her that he wanted to make the break and was deliberately sending her that message.

But it was a message she didn’t want to receive.

Mandy didn't want to contemplate a life without Kelly. She would miss that measuring look which entered his eyes when he was considering something she'd just said; his short, explosive laugh; his engaging, come hither smile. She neglected her work to daydream about excuses to make contact with him and pretexts which would bring them together. So when the opportunity to see him presented itself she snapped it up hastily.

Mandy looked around one morning when Celia called her name. Celia was tapping on one of the folding doors installed on the warehouse floor to separate the ADA cubicles and bring some order to the confusion. She was waving an envelope.

"This was just delivered by messenger," Celia announced.

"What is it?" Mandy asked, noticing the heavy cream vellum paper and the official seal of the Metro PD stamped on the flap.

"Well, I'm not psychic," Celia said, "but my guess is that it's the invitation to that ceremony for the medal they're giving Brendan Kelly." She was smiling.

Mandy accepted the packet thoughtfully. She had been so preoccupied with Kelly's vanishing act that she hadn't thought about the medal event that was hanging out there in the indefinable future. It had been heralded in the newspapers, on TV and online. Mandy's mother reached for the antacids every time Kelly's face appeared anywhere in the media in connection with the rescue of her daughter.

"It's this Friday night, " Celia said confidentially. "I didn't open the invite," she added piously, indicating the unbroken seal, "but the messenger said so."

Mandy opened the envelope and saw a fancy letterhead, raised seals and gold lettering, gauzy liners which drifted lazily to her desk, and the time of 8PM on the last line. Under the flowery recounting of Kelly's conduct "above and beyond" yadda-yadda-yadda there was a description of the citation he was receiving.

Mandy scanned the lines rapidly. At the very bottom of the bonded sheet was a handwritten note from Commissioner Foster. He asked Mandy to sit on the dais with the other people Kelly had gotten out of the building while trying to locate Mandy. Foster also asked Mandy to bestow the medal personally on Detective Kelly. She read this with dismay and then sat back in her chair, closing her eyes.

This was going to be an ordeal.

"What is it?" Celia asked, her smile fading. "You look upset."

Mandy pressed her lips together. "I have to give Kelly the medal myself," Mandy said helplessly, at a loss to describe how much this affected her emotionally.

"Do you want me to call in the reply to the Commissioner's office?" Celia asked. "They're not giving you much advance notice to respond."

Mandy sighed. "I'm sure they thought I was aware of the date before this formality," Mandy said, indicating her purse. "Everyone else seems to have known about it for a while. I guess I was in Oz."

"You have been preoccupied," Celia said. Her tone was sympathetic rather then judgmental.

"I'll take a cab over to the station and respond in person," Mandy said, picking up her cell phone. "Call me with anything urgent, otherwise take messages. I'll be back in an hour."

Celia nodded. She watched Mandy walk out of the makeshift office and then shook her head, wondering how it would all end.

* * * * *

Mandy arrived at the police station quickly since at mid-morning the traffic subsided until it picked up again at noon. She passed through the doors at the lobby entrance and went up to the desk sergeant, removing the invitation from her bag.

"Sergeant Langer," she said, reading his name tag. "I'm Amanda Redfield and I need to reply to this. " She held it under his nose.

The sergeant, who was five minutes away from retirement and had seen it all, looked at her over the top of his half glasses. "And your reply is?" he said, pulling his glasses down to read the invitation.

"I'll be there," she said flatly, realizing that it would not help her to discuss the situation with this bored veteran.

"The Commissioner will be thrilled," Langer said dryly.

Mandy looked back at him archly. "Do you suppose he could find five minutes in his schedule to see me?" she asked. "He seems to have taken a personal interest in publicizing the exemplary conduct of Detective Kelly," she added significantly.

Langer stared at her for a long moment, absorbing the message. He then touched a couple of buttons on his laptop computer and said, "Foster has a cancellation at five this afternoon. Should I put you in there?"

"Thank you, " Mandy said.

Langer favored her with a final glance. He then went back to answering the incoming calls indicated by the flashing lights on his desk phone.

Mandy returned to the lobby, wondering what she would say to get out of the medal bestowing ritual. The rest she could handle, but she feared she would come apart at that personal touch. She certainly didn't want to take that chance in front of a staring crowd and a full complement of cameras.

She was walking toward the vestibule when a side door opened and Kelly stepped out of a conference room into her path.

She wouldn’t have to look for him, after all.

He stopped short and stared at her. She gazed back at him wordlessly. They stood flatfooted, frozen as if in tableau, speechless at the sudden confrontation.

"Hello, Red," Kelly finally said quietly, and just the sound of his voice saying that silly, obvious nickname made her throat tighten.

Mandy thought the inanity of the exchange would drive her mad. She felt like she was acting; she shouldn’t have to talk with Kelly like this. Not with Kelly, who had saved her.

She wanted to embrace him, but held back, uncertain of her reception.

They were still as passersby went up and down the corridor around them. Mandy needed to hold on to the moment but couldn't think what to do to prolong it. She looked up into his face, wondering how she could ever forget the startling blue green of his eyes, or how tall and slim he was, or the lumpy little scar at the corner of his chin.

"Amanda, what are you doing here?" he said in exasperation, turning her to face him. "It is goddamn freakin' hard enough to stay away from you without you showing up in the house looking like..." he gestured to her.

"I don't get a chance to miss you, Mandy, because I see your face every time I close my eyes and I dream about you every time I fall asleep." He sounded annoyed that he couldn't control his subconscious.

"Then why haven't you called me?" she asked wistfully.

“Are you still marrying Henderson?” Kelly countered, spreading his hands, palms up and fingers extended, in a gesture of futility.

The door opened behind them and a uniformed policewoman looked in at them. She saw their intense expressions and took in the situation at a glance.

Mandy shook her head. "No, I'll be there, I told you that. I just think that in front of all those people..." She stopped.

"You don't want to be identified with me so publicly," he finished for her, his expression hardening. "I mean, pictures in the newspapers are one thing, but this you would choose to do voluntarily for all the world to see."

She looked back at him. She realized that despite all of his offhanded patter about the force and the politics and the meaningless awards he was proud of being a police officer and he was proud of what he had done to save her. Getting the medal meant a lot to him and she was ruining it.

She shook her head violently. "That's not it," she whispered.

He waited, hands on hips like the running back he had once been, anticipating the call.

"I'll babble or say something stupid. I know I'll cry." She gestured helplessly, feeling the sting of tears already. "I don't want to screw it up for you."

"I'll be there. You won't screw it up, Mandy. I'll help you," he said steadily.

"You always help me," she replied. “Why?”

His lips parted and he was about to say something when the door opened again and the desk sergeant said, "Foster wants to see you, Kelly. What are you hiding in here for?" Langer took in Mandy's emotional expression and smirked.

"I'll be right there," Kelly replied neutrally and then added darkly after the door closed again, "Langer is going to die soon."

"I should go," Mandy said. "You work here and I'm making a scene. You’re right. I'll give you the medal, Brendan."

He sighed, obviously relieved that she was calming down but loath to let her go. He wanted to be with her too, even under these less than ideal circumstances.

Mandy wanted to pinch him. She hoped she never got so old that she enjoyed witnessing the problems of those young enough to have some juices still flowing. None of your business, she wanted to say.