Lover's Bridge Pt. 05

"How's Azalea holding up?" she asked.

"She was her normal self at the hospital."

"Quiet, huh?"

"Very," Ryan answered. "Maybe a little too quiet. Keep an eye on her, would you? I'm a little concerned."

"Me too. I have to make deliveries this morning. Maybe I'll take her and Bill with me."

"Good idea. Maybe that'll help take their minds off things," Ryan said. "How are you holding up?"

"It's not everyday that someone gets shot to hell in my back yard," Beverly remarked. "But I'm okay."

"Good," Ryan said. "I'll be home just as soon as I can."

"I love you so much, Ryan," she said.

"I love you more," he replied. They kissed for a few moments, then Ryan went into the bathroom.

...

As he predicted, Ryan's day was extremely hectic. After standing down and talking with the press, where Ryan offered the obligatory thanks to the DPS, the Rangers, the National Guard, all the deputies, and the governor, he retired to his office, where he spent the rest of the day filling out paperwork. Deputy Sanders knocked on his door in the early afternoon.

"Enter," Ryan called.

"Sheriff, we still have Grayson in custody. What do you want to do about him?"

"Shit, I forgot about him when all this crap went down," Ryan said disgustedly. He thought for a moment. "My gut says we hang onto him. Get with Ron, and see what he found. I'm tempted to charge that SOB anyway. Conspiracy, obstruction, aiding and abetting, if nothing else. He had to know what Gagnon had going on. And he provided cover and a place to stay. You wanna take that?"

"Sure," Sanders said.

"Good. It'll be good practice for when you make Sergeant," Ryan said with a sideways smile.

"Sergeant?" Sanders asked, surprised. He knew he had passed the test but wasn't aware that Ryan had already put him in for a promotion.

"Not just Sergeant, but Detective Sergeant. Think you can handle that?"

"Hell yeah," Sanders beamed. "Linda will be glad to hear that," he added, referring to his wife.

"Oh, and Greg," Ryan added. He rarely referred to Sanders by his first name. "Keep it under your hat for now, okay? I'll be making an official announcement soon."

"Will do, Sheriff. I'll act all surprised when you make the announcement." Ryan chuckled as Sanders left the office. He continued with his reports, stopping only when there was a knock at the door.

"Enter," Ryan called.

"How you holding up, Sheriff?" Ray Hale asked.

"I could use a day or two off, but I'm okay otherwise. By the way, thank you for coordinating the support teams last night. I know you had your hands full with Ranger Wilson and the National Guard."

"My pleasure," Ray said. "By the way, how is your friend doing?"

"Doc says he's optimistic. We'll know more in a day or so. Which reminds me. I need to kick Frank Barnes' ass for fighting my request for updated body armor. If we had the level four stuff I wanted, Roland would probably not be in the hospital."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I understand Gagnon used armor-piercing ammo."

"Still. It would've been nice to have had something better than that old level three crap," Ryan hissed.

"I'll let you handle that, Sheriff," Ray said wryly. "That's above my pay grade." Ryan chuckled. "I'll let you get back to it. I just wanted to check in."

"Thanks, Ray," Ryan said as the big detective left the office.

...

"How are you holding up, hon?" Beverly asked Azalea as she sat at the table, staring at the cup of coffee before her. She had hardly touched it in the half-hour since Beverly poured it for her.

"I've been thinking about what Jean-Pierre said last night," Azalea said quietly. "He was right. I do not know how to be a woman. I am not someone any man could ever really love."

"That's horseshit, and you know it," Beverly said earnestly, sitting across the table from her. "He was just trying to get your goat." Azalea looked at Beverly with one brow raised in confusion. Even after over a year in this town, she still had difficulty understanding how these Texans spoke. "You know, make you mad."

"He certainly succeeded," Azalea agreed, shrugging. "But that doesn't change what he said. And he's right."

"Didn't your mother teach you anything growing up?" Beverly asked.

"She was too busy being a slut to teach me anything," Azalea said, returning her gaze to the coffee cup. That statement was so casual that Beverly blinked, wondering if she had heard correctly. "Father tried his best after she died, but he was too stricken with his own grief to be much help. He told me to focus on my studies and then on my duty. Those were the things I needed to make a living. That's what I did." She looked up at Beverly with haunting, hurt eyes. "Will you help me?"

"Help you? With what?"

"Help me be a... woman that someone could love?" Azalea asked hopefully.

"You mean Roland, don't you?" Beverly responded, her tone gentle.

"Yes," Azalea said quietly.

"You really do love him, don't you?"

"I feel... something... more intense than I have ever felt for anyone. Even Phillipe. Is that wrong?"

"No. " From what I heard, Phillipe is dead, and he was just using you anyway," Beverly told her. "Let me make a call. Hang on, okay?" Beverly went into the kitchen and made a call. "Hello, Bernice? This is Beverly Caldwell. Could you do me a favor, please?"

...

6:00 pm, Monday, September 26, 2022 - Caldwell residence

An exhausted Ryan came into his home, looking forward to a nice quiet evening. As always, Beverly met him as he walked inside with a scorching hot kiss. After returning her kiss, he saw another blonde beauty walk into the room wearing a floor-length sundress. He didn't recognize her at first.

"Azalea?" Ryan asked incredulously.

"Yes, it is me," Azalea replied. Her tone gave her away immediately.

"What do you think?" Beverly asked, nudging him.

"Wh... what happened?" Ryan asked. He had never seen her in a dress before, and her hair had been washed, cut, and styled. On top of that, she wore makeup. She didn't wear much, but it was enough. And he saw red polish on her fingernails. "She's... beautiful."

"Well, of course, she's beautiful," Beverly said as Azalea smiled. "She was always beautiful. Bernice just helped bring it out."

"Bernice... your friend who runs that salon off Main Street?"

"One and the same," Beverly said. "Do you think Roland would approve?"

"Him and about ninety-nine percent of the male population of Hard Rock," Ryan said. "The other one percent are either senile or blind. Or happily married," he added hastily. "Hell, I just might have to assign a deputy to ward off the hounds." Beverly laughed at that.

"I can take care of myself," Azalea replied in her monotone.

"Of that, I am certain," Ryan told her. "Are you gonna go see Roland tomorrow?"

"If he is up to it, yes," Azalea said.

"All right. Why don't you and Bill go with Beverly tomorrow morning and see him after she finishes her deliveries?"

"That's our plan," Beverly said. Ryan turned to Bill, who was having difficulty keeping his eyes off Azalea's figure, which was certainly on display.

"Your job, young man, is to protect the two prettiest women in town tomorrow. Understand?" Ryan ordered sternly but with a wide grin.

"Yessir, Sheriff," Bill said, offering a mock salute.

...

9:00 am, Tuesday, September 27, 2022 - Hard Rock General Hospital

Roland had just awakened when he heard the door to his room open. As he watched, two beautiful blondes came inside and stood beside his bed. Behind them was a man - Bill. He recognized Beverly Caldwell but didn't recognize the woman with her... at first.

"You're awake," Azalea said as she looked down at him.

"Yes, I just woke up. I thought I had died and gone to heaven for a second."

"Why would you think that? You are most certainly alive," Azalea scolded.

"Seeing two lovely angels like you..."

"I am not an angel," Azalea told him.

"You could have fooled me," Roland said, prompting her to blush.

"Hey, partner, how're you feeling?" Bill asked.

"Like I've been shot," Roland groaned sarcastically. "Still pretty tired. What happened?"

"Well, after Gagnon shot you, we took him out with extreme prejudice. I don't think there's enough left to bury," Bill said.

"Good. I take it you guys are okay, then," Roland replied, looking at everyone as if counting noses.

"Yeah, we're all fine. Just worried about you," Beverly said.

"No worries. I've been hurt worse than this. You remember that bar in Mombasa, Bill?"

"Yeah, I remember. You got cold-cocked when you drank that guy's gin."

"Guess he couldn't take a joke, eh?" Roland quipped. He tried to laugh at his joke but stopped when he felt a stab in his abdomen.

"Well, I'd better get Bill back to the house," Beverly said. "Ryan said he'd be coming by if you're awake."

"I need to pack our stuff and get the car, but I'll be back," Bill said.

"You're not going with them?" Roland asked Azalea.

"No. I think we need to... talk," she said. Roland suddenly understood this was a set-up. But he wasn't upset. He was glad to spend some private time with Azalea.

"Of course," Roland said. Bill and Beverly said their farewells, then left the room. Roland looked at Azalea and took in her beauty. "You look... What's the phrase I'm looking for? Ah, yes. C'est magnifique. Did I say that right?"

"Yes, you said it right," Azalea told him. "But your accent is atrocious. We will have to work on your French."

"I can handle that," Roland said. "Seriously, though. You look beautiful. I didn't know you had that dress."

"It is the first one I have had in... a long time."

"Your hair looks good, too. So soft. And I like that color on your nails."

"Thank you. Beatrice spent nearly an hour untangling my hair. I wanted to be pretty for you," she said quietly.

"Is that because of what Gagnon said last night? If it is, you should know I've always thought you were beautiful."

"Really?" she asked, almost bewildered.

"Yes. My ex-wives were beautiful on the outside, but they were conniving and deceitful - not very pretty on the inside. You, on the other hand... I find your honesty and candor more beautiful than anything else."

"Thank you. That is the kindest thing anyone has ever told me. I admit, though, I... like the way all this makes me feel. It makes me feel... like a woman who can be loved." She stopped, obviously embarrassed as if she had admitted a weakness.

"That's because you're as pretty on the outside as you are on the inside. I could look at you like this all day long." He saw a tear threaten to fall down her cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Last night I was afraid that I would... lose you," she said. "The way you threw yourself in front of me when Jean-Pierre fired... Those bullets were meant for me. They probably would have killed me. But you took them instead. No one has ever done anything like that for me."

"Well, to be honest... I didn't think I could live with myself if anything happened to you. I knew I had to do something. I can't tell you how glad I am that you weren't hurt." Azalea looked at Roland for several moments before saying anything. Roland could see the wheels turning in her mind.

"Do you think that maybe we could be... together?" she asked hesitantly.

"I can't think of anything I'd like more," Roland said. "There's just one thing, though. I'm strictly a one-woman man. And I refuse to share."

"I like that arrangement. Much better than what I had with Phillipe," Azalea said. "And I would love to be what you Americans call a one-man woman. But I'm not very good at baking cookies. Or anything else, really."

"We'll figure that out. Maybe we can learn together," Roland said.

"I would like that," Azalea said, smiling through the tears. "Very much. Now, are you ready for your first lesson in French?"

"Sure. Lay it on me."

"Je t'aime," she whispered in a husky voice.

"I like the way you say that," Roland told her. "What does it mean?"

"It means, I love you, Roland Waters," Azalea told him. "Now, you say it."

"Je t'aime," he replied. "I love you, Azalea." She responded with a smile, then kissed him deeply, taking him by surprise. "I love hearing you speak like that," he told her when she broke the kiss.

"Then I will whisper it in your ear every night if you wish," she said quietly.

"I wish," Roland said, surprised at her gentle tone. They spent the next hour talking and kissing - mostly kissing. Roland felt like a schoolboy making out with his first girlfriend. They heard a knock on the door, and Bill popped his head inside.

"Are you two decent?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yes," Roland said as Azalea sat up.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Bill asked, feigning innocence.

"Oh, just my first lesson in French," Roland said as Azalea blushed.

"French, huh? Is that what passes for therapy in this place?" They both chuckled at that. They visited for a few more minutes, and Roland felt tired. A nurse entered the room to check his chart and vital signs.

"It's time for his meds, and the doctor will be by in a few minutes," the nurse said.

"When do you think he'll be getting out?" Bill asked.

"That's up to the doctor, but if everything goes well, he could be out in a week. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to see to our patient."

"We need to be heading out anyway," Bill said. "See ya tomorrow?"

"Sounds good," Roland said.

"I will be a little late coming in tomorrow," Azalea said. "I have an appointment to have my tattoo removed, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. Merci beaucoup," Roland said with a knowing smile.

"You're welcome," Azalea replied, squeezing his hand before leaving the room.

...

Epilogue:

The next few weeks were busy ones for everyone. Life settled back to normal in Hard Rock, and Ryan had become a celebrity, having been interviewed by several national networks and recognized for the second time by the governor.

Azalea finished her report to her commander in Quebec and was busy packing everything in anticipation of moving. After a thorough records check, she learned that her marriage to Phillipe was legal, despite what Jean-Pierre said. She sighed in relief and realized that would make handling his estate much more straightforward.

Phillipe's body had been released, so she arranged with his sister in Calais to accompany her former husband's remains to France. She wasn't looking forward to the trip but felt she had a duty to Phillipe's family.

The investigation into Worldwide's criminal enterprise revealed that about half of the company's employees were not directly involved in the illegal activity but either knew or suspected something and simply turned a blind eye to it.

Phillipe fell into that category but knew of Jean-Pierre's interest in Azalea. Emails, text messages, and interviews with other employees showed that Phillipe pursued Azalea at Gagnon's insistence, routinely feeding information to him.

Ryan took Beverly out for an expensive dinner and dancing on her birthday, ending the evening with a hot tryst in their master bedroom.

"Not bad for a fat one-eyed old man, huh?" Ryan asked after their third shared orgasm of the night.

"Not bad at all," Beverly replied. "And there's nothing fat about you. Thank you for a wonderful evening."

"My pleasure, little lady," Ryan said in a bad John Wayne imitation.

...

The toxicology reports on all three victims returned, so the remains were released to their respective families. Ernesto Trujillo, Carmelita's father, flew in from southern California to retreive his daughter. Ryan watched the proud Hispanic man deflate when he saw his child. Ryan let him grieve, then gave him the Reader's Digest version of what happened.

"Was her husband involved?" Ernesto asked.

"His body was found shortly after hers," Ryan said, not wanting to elaborate any further. "He was murdered as well."

"Why? Why was she killed, Sheriff?"

"From what I could tell, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was with her boss when it happened. He was the real target. I'm sorry for your loss." Ernesto understood the implications of that but said nothing.

"Did you get the pendejo who did this, Sheriff?"

"We got him, Mr. Trujillo," Ryan said.

"Thank you for that, Sheriff. She was my baby girl," Ernesto said quietly, tears falling down his face.

...

Ryan and Beverly went to Dan's funeral, which was well-attended. The eight remaining Holder children were there with their spouses and children. Joining them were the rest of the extensive Holder clan - aunts, uncles, cousins, their spouses, and children.

Many of the town's residents also showed up to offer their condolences and pay their respects. Ryan knew the outpouring of support meant a lot to Ken and JoAnne, and he observed the proud man wiping his eyes more than once.

"Thank you for coming, Sheriff," Ken said after the service. "And thank you, Beverly. I heard you got the son of a bitch. I appreciate that. I know mah boy will rest easier now."

"It's my pleasure. If there's anything I can do for you, let me know, Mr. Holder," Ryan replied.

Sam Grayson was brought up on charges of obstruction. Ray and Deputy Sanders put together the best case they could, charging him as an accessory and with conspiracy. But the law is a funny creature. The District Attorney, who wanted Grayson behind bars, couldn't make the case stick, as he couldn't prove Grayson knew the details of Gagnon's evil plot.

Grayson was eventually found guilty of obstruction and, given the nature of Gagnon's actions, was handed the maximum sentence under Texas law - five years in prison.

Roland was released from the hospital after a ten-day stay. Ryan, Beverly, Bill, and Azalea came to see him off. He was still sore from his wounds but was glad to be leaving.

"Is he cleared to have sex?" Azalea bluntly asked the doctor, almost as if she was inquiring about the weather.

"As long as it's not too strenuous," the embarrassed doctor told her.

"Good. Thank you," she answered before they left the room. That night, Azalea surprised Roland when she disrobed and presented herself to her man.

"You... shaved?" Roland asked, looking at her glistening vagina.

"Yes. I read about it in one of Beverly's magazines. Do you approve?" Azalea asked, hoping she had done the right thing.

"Absolutely. You look... good enough to eat," Roland said.

"Then what are you waiting for? I haven't been properly fucked since the last time you fucked me," Azalea replied. "In fact, I haven't been fucked at all. And I need it... so bad." Roland moved to turn the light off, but Azalea stopped him. "Leave it on, please. I want us to be able to clearly see each other."

"Of course," Roland said, somewhat surprised as she always insisted on keeping the lights off.

Roland took his time, bringing Azalea off with his tongue, his rock-hard cock, and his fingers as many times as he could. She returned the favor and took delight in bringing Roland to orgasm with her mouth - something she had never done with Phillipe.

"Je t'aime," she whispered in his ear when they had finally sated each other's lust. Roland repeated his declaration of love for her, and the two fell asleep. Azalea spent the night sleeping in a man's arms for the first time in her adult life.

...

9:30 am, Thursday, October 6, 2022 - Eastland Bridge

Azalea sat up when she heard the truck door slam shut. She stood as Ryan walked around the front of the truck.

"What can I do for you, Sheriff?" she asked.

"I got a call there was a strange woman out here in the middle of the bridge. Figured it was you, since you're about the strangest woman I've ever met." Azalea smiled at the joke. "Ah, she smiles after all. And her face didn't even crack once," he added with a wide smile.

"I did not see any cars. Who called you?" she asked.