"No shit," Lena answered. The knife slicing open her skin had not hurt as much as the freaking needle.
"It'll block the pain so I can suture you."
"Just hurry," Lena said, biting her lip. She tasted blood and remembered her split lip. Molly jabbed in the needle again. "Christ, that hurts."
"Just a little more."
"Christ," she repeated, looking away from the needle. She saw Wagner talking to Nick, both of them staring at Lena and Molly as they sat in the back room of the cleaners.
"There," Molly said. "It should start numbing up in a few minutes."
"It'd better," Lena told her, feeling phantom pains from the needle. She looked through the front windows again, seeing the mess in the street. There were at least fifty GBI agents swarming around, none of them knowing what the hell they were doing. Smith was dead and Sonny was locked in the back of a squad car on his way to Macon, where he would probably have the shit beaten out of him. There was a special place in hell for cop-killers.
Lena watched Molly open the suture kit she had taken from the ambulance. "Where are the kids?"
"Back with their parents," Molly said, laying out the kit. "I can't imagine what it was like for them. The parents, I mean. My God, when I think about it, my blood runs cold."
Lena realized she had been clenching every muscle in her body, and she relaxed as her hand started to numb.
"Better?" Molly asked.
"Yeah," Lena allowed. "Thanks for doing this here. I hate going to the hospital."
"That's understandable," Molly said, using a syringe to wash out the gash. "You only need three or four sutures. Sara's a lot better at this than I am."
"She's tougher than I thought."
"I think we all are," Molly pointed out. "You had me fooled when we went into the station."
"Yeah," Lena said, though the compliment rang false. She had been terrified.
Molly used a pair of long tweezers to pick up a curved needle. She dug it into Lena's skin, and Lena watched, thinking how odd it was to see her flesh being pierced and feel nothing but a dull tugging as the thread went through.
"How long have you been dating Nick?"
"Not long," Molly said, tying off the thread. "He kept asking Sara out. I guess I was the door prize."
Lena laughed as she tried to imagine Nick and Sara together. "Sara's about ten feet taller than he is."
"She's also in love with Jeffrey," Molly reminded her, as if that was not obvious. "Oh, God, I remember the first time I saw them together." She tied the suture. Lena felt the same dull tug as she punctured the skin again. "I've never seen her so giddy."
"Giddy?" Lena echoed, thinking she had heard wrong. Sara was one of the most serious people she had ever met.
"Giddy," Molly confirmed. "Like a schoolgirl." She tied off the second thread, making a neat knot. "One more, I think."
"I've never thought about him that way."
"Jeffrey?" Molly asked, as if it surprised her. "He's gorgeous."
"I guess," Lena shrugged. "That'd be kind of like dating your father, though."
"Maybe for you," Molly said in a suggestive tone. She dug into the skin one more time and tied off the third suture. "There you go," she said, cutting the thread just above the knot. "All set."
"Thank you."
"The scar shouldn't be bad."
"I'm not worried about that," Lena said, flexing her hand. The fingers moved, but she could not feel them.
"Take some Tylenol when it starts to hurt. I can have Sara call in something for you if you like."
"That's okay," Lena said. "She's got more important things to worry about."
"She wouldn't mind," Molly offered.
"No," Lena assured her. "Thanks."
"All right," Molly said, wrapping the suturing kit. She gave a groan as she stood. "Now, I think I am going home to a large glass of wine and my children."
"That sounds nice," Lena said.
"My mother has kept them away from the news. I don't know how I'm going to tell them about this."
"You'll think of something," Lena told her.
Molly smiled. "Take care."
"Thanks," Lena answered, sliding off the table.
Nick passed her as she walked toward the front of the cleaners. He said, "We'll need to debrief you tomorrow."
"You know how to find me."
Wagner was leaning against the front counter, her cell phone plastered to her ear. When she saw Lena, she said, "Wait a minute," into the phone, then told Lena, "Good work, Detective."
"Thanks," Lena said.
"You ever want to run with the big dogs," Wagner offered, "give me a call."
Lena looked out into the street, watching the local agents strutting around like they had saved the day. She thought about Jeffrey, and how he had given her a second chance. Being honest, it was more like a fifth or sixth chance.
She gave Wagner a smile. "No thanks. I think I'll stay where I am."
Wagner shrugged, like it was no skin off her back. She went back to her call, saying, "We'll obviously need to interrogate him tonight. I don't want him talking to the other inmates and figuring out he needs a lawyer."
Lena pushed open the door with her good hand, nodding to some of the men in the street. She belonged here. She was a part of them. She was Frank's partner again. She was a cop. Hell, maybe she was more than that.
She walked toward the college. Now that the standoff was over, the rent-a-cop from campus security was standing sentry at his car. He tipped his hat to her as she walked by, and Lena, feeling generous, nodded back.
There was a welcome breeze in the air as she walked up the main drive to the student dorms. Lena touched her fingers to her belly. She wondered what was in there, what kind of parent she could be. After today, she was beginning to think that not everything was impossible.
The campus was pretty empty, most of the kids probably glued to their televisions or sacked out on their beds, thankful for a day without classes. Downtown was still blocked off, but Lena figured in a few hours they would start to file out, rubbernecking, trying to absorb some of the drama that had unfolded today. They would call their parents and cry about how horrible it was. The dean would be handling more calls from angry parents, like this kind of thing could be controlled by anybody.
Ethan's dorm this year was quieter than the one he had lived in when Lena had first met him. All-night parties and weekend binges were not exactly his style, and he had managed to befriend the professor in charge of assigning dorm space and gotten placed in a quieter hall.
She climbed the three steps up to the concrete porch, passing a few students as they left the dorm. Ethan's room had been a closet at some point, and even though the university had no qualms about stacking students in dorms like sides of beef, they had not had the gall to make him share. He had measured the space once while Lena watched, surprised that at eight feet by eleven it was bigger than they both had thought.
She knocked on the door before opening it. Ethan was sitting in bed with a book on his lap. The little television on the bookcase showed the news, the sound turned off.
He asked, "What are you doing here?"
"You wanted me to come by after work."
"Wanted," he said. "Past tense. Not anymore."
Lena leaned against the door. "Do you know what kind of day I've had?"
"Do you know what kind of day I've had?" he shot back, slamming the book closed.
"Ethan -"
" 'I'll take care of it,' " he interrupted. "That's what you said. 'I'll take care of it.' "
"I didn't mean -"
"Are you pregnant?"
She stared at him, feeling an ache in the pit of her stomach. For the first time since she had met him, Lena did not want to be alone, even if it meant being here on Ethan's terms.
"Are you going to answer me?"
She finally said, "No."
"You're lying."
"I'm not," she insisted, making things up as she went along. "I started my period after we talked. It must have been the stress."