Tequila Sunrise

"Bullshit, thirty minutes, he won't wait that long. Do we have anybody on the phone with him? Who's negotiator on today?"

"You want to do it?"

"Hell no, the last thing you want right now is for him to hear my voice or see me."

Hunter looked at me in confusion.

"The next house past his is mine. She's divorcing him and he's accused us of having an affair. He's delusional."

"Sergeant! There's smoke coming out of the window!" one of the patrolmen shouted and pointed. About the same time, my two other neighbors shrieked in terror.

I turned and snatched the keys from my car and ran between the two houses nearest us then across the two intervening yards to the back door of the Yates' house. Since Holly and Rachael were best friends, they both had keys to each other's house, and I still had Holly's on my keyring. As I slid the key into the lock, I noticed Gilmour and one of the patrolmen had followed me. When I eased the door open, I heard Brian screaming and Rachael sobbing in another room. Brian was making so much noise and was distracted by his wife cowering in the corner of the floor in the front living room that he never heard the three of us rush in and he didn't see anything until just before I tackled him, driving him into the wall and then to the floor. The impact knocked the aluminum softball bat he was brandishing across the room, out of reach. I had hit him in a dead run and heard a snap in my right shoulder that was accompanied by a sharp, burning agony. I ignored the sudden pain through the overdose of adrenaline I was experiencing, and I felt other hands tugging Brian's arms and cuffing them behind his back.

I looked around and saw the source of the smoke: an upholstered recliner in front of the broken front window was smoldering with an overturned red plastic gasoline canister laying on its side in the floor. I could smell the acrid odor of kerosene and was confused momentarily, expecting that with these conditions the chair should be in a full blaze at least threatening to spread to the walls with more enthusiasm than I was witnessing. I yanked open the front door and jerked the back off the chair, tossing it through the door onto the lawn and followed it with the remaining base while the other two officers restrained Yates.

I turned and Rachael grabbed me like a spider monkey, and I immediately realized that something was wrong with my shoulder. Blazing agony radiated down my right arm and torso and trying to raise my right arm only added fuel to the pain. I wrapped my left arm around Rachael and led her out of the smoky room and into the clear sunshine while Gilmour and the patrolman drug Brian out behind us. I led Rachael toward the ambulance that was pulling up and we were mobbed by Melissa and Carolyn. Carolyn saw my grimace when Melissa threw her arms around me and pulled her away from me. The EMT's met us about half-way to their truck and started assessing Rachael's injuries. Brian had beat her enough to leave her eye and lips swollen, bruised and bloody.

Carolyn spoke up, "You need to check him, too, he's hurt."

One of the Medic's turned to me, "Where are you injured?"

"My right shoulder. It made a noise when I tackled him and it's burning now. I can't lift my arm."

Rachael spun her head to look at me and tears began running down her cheeks. I just smiled at her and assured her, "Easy, everything's going to be okay, now, you're safe."

"Don't leave me alone, please!" She stammered.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Rachael clung to my left arm like it was the only lifeline keeping her from washing away in a rushing flood.

"Let's let the EMT's check you out. Did he hit you with that bat?"

She nodded.

"Where?"

"The back of my legs. My shoulders and the back of my head, I think."

The EMT's decided to transport both of us to the Emergency Room for examination. I asked Gilmour to get my key ring from the back door of the house and move my car to my driveway while I rode in the ambulance to the Medical Center then I sat on the bench beside the gurney Rachael was lying on for our ride.

When the nurse at the E.R. tried to assign Rachael to a room and me to another one, Rachael grabbed my left hand and refused to let go, crying, "No! Don't leave me alone!" Repeatedly, her entire body was trembling.

"Don't worry, Rache, I'm not going far, they have to x-ray us both and we can't do that together. I promise I will not leave this place without you and after x-rays I will be in the same room with you until we are both released." I looked into the nurse's eyes and continued, "I promise." She nodded her understanding then I returned my attention to Rachael.

After we both made our trips to the X-Ray department and were back in the room we were currently sharing, the E.R. Doctor came in and addressed me first, "I understand you're considering trying out for a walk-on Linebacker position with the Falcons."

We both chuckled at the weak joke, "No, I just forgot I'm not twenty years old anymore and hitting somebody that hard without helmet and pads is painful.

The doctor laughed again, "Well, for what it's worth, I think you came out on top. The other guy has three broken ribs, a broken nose and a fractured jaw. I didn't believe at first that his injuries were the result of a single hit and not a sustained beating. But the witnesses assured me that looks are, in this case, deceiving." He continued, "I believe the Nurse already told you that you had a severely dislocated shoulder as well as a hairline fracture of your Clavicle and second degree burns on both arms and hands. How did you manage the burns?"

"The assailant set some furniture on fire inside the residence, and I threw it outside to keep the fire from spreading."

"That's not something I'd recommend trying again, you're lucky the synthetic material didn't just melt and stick to your skin like Napalm, your burns would've been much worse."

"I know, I couldn't figure out why it wasn't burning more than it was. He doused it with kerosene before he lit it. I guess that's something for the Fire Marshall to puzzle over."

The doctor shook his head in disbelief, "We reset your shoulder joint, and it should be fine now, it'll be tender, and it will likely be slightly less stable now, especially until after the inflamed tissue heals. But you need to be careful and protect it, keep it immobile as much as possible for a few days and Ice it. I'll give you a prescription for pain meds and burn cream, just follow the directions on the label. There's not much we can do about the Clavicle, it's only a small fracture and will take some time to heal so, again, be careful. That means no more violent contact sports!" he laughed, then turned to Rachael. "Now you, you have a cracked rib and a broken nose to go with an entire assortment of contusions, and abrasions. And all three of you show signs of Smoke Inhalation, fortunately, you don't have a Skull fracture, I understand that the wound I stitched up on the back of your head was administered by an aluminum ball bat?" Rachael nodded, wordlessly. "Also fortunately, I don't see any signs of concussion, at present. I'd still like to keep you overnight for observation but the nurse who checked y'all in seems to believe you might have some objections to that. So, if I can ensure that you aren't left alone and you have somebody who can watch over you and make sure to get you back up here if you start showing signs concussion, I'll release you today."

Rachael turned and looked at me pleadingly.

"I told you; I'm not going anywhere." I turned back to the doctor, "She's going home with me."

"I kinda figured she might be." He grinned his approval.

We signed the necessary paperwork and were both forced to subject ourselves to wheelchair rides to the hospital exit.

"I'll have to call somebody to come pick us up, we don't have a car." I pointed out but when we came through the door, I saw Johnny and Carolyn, Noel and Melissa, and Veronica sitting together in the waiting room.

The women broke down in sobs when they saw Rachael's bandaged head, bruises and swollen shut eye and my gauze wrapped arms, one of which was in a sling. The two men seemed to be fighting a lesser battle with their own sympathies themselves. Once everybody reined in their emotions, Noel and Johnny helped Rachael into the middle seat of Veronica's Suburban and I slid into the seat beside her. Melissa, Carolyn and Johnny crammed into the third seat and Noel sat up front with Veronica for our ride back home.

When we pulled into my driveway, I saw Veronica's husband, Tyler, screwing a piece of plywood over the broken front window at the Yates' house with a box fan running in the open front doorway. I suppose to clear out the residual smoke from inside the house.

We all made our way into my house; I made Rachael comfortable on the couch and the neighbor women rummaged through the fridge and pantry to come up with supper for all eight of us. We sat around that evening talking about anything but what happened earlier in the day, Rachael just sat unmoving beside me on the couch refusing to turn my hand loose. I thought she was going to follow me when I went to the bathroom at one point in the evening, but Melissa sat down in my place and took Rachael's hand in hers until my return.

When it got late, Veronica and I helped Rachael up from the sofa and led her to the guest bedroom where she balked and spoke for the first time since we got home, "I'm sleeping with you." No question, no apprehension, just bald determination and certainty. That was the first night that Rachael curled up to my side beneath the covers, although I suspected that this arrangement might be the new norm for the two of us. Neither of us were in the mood for anything other than sleep and she gripped my arm all night long.

The next day I had to convince Rachael that she didn't need to cling to me continually, I assured her repeatedly that I wasn't going to leave her alone, but I needed to fix us breakfast. Even then she had to stay in the kitchen with me until I was finished. For the next couple of weeks, Rachael would need either me or at least one of the neighborhood women in the room with her unless she was in the bathroom. Even then, someone had to stand outside the door while she attended to her business within.

After lunch, we sat on the rear deck and Rachael finally began at least answering my questions and appropriately adding to our conversation, although she budgeted her words carefully.

About mid-afternoon, my Chief of Police knocked on my door.

"Afternoon, Chief. Everything okay?"

"Hey, Jim, I just wanted to check on you and chew your ass out for being stupid."

"I know, but I did wait for backup, Gilmour and a couple Patrolmen were there as well as Sgt. Hunter."

"That was a Special Operations situation, and you know it. You weren't equipped for something like that and," glancing at Rachael then back, "you were too emotionally attached to the players to make rational decisions. It's only pure dumb luck everybody came out with as few injuries as you did."

"You know what they say: I'd rather be lucky than good any day."

"Don't be flippant about this, Wheeler." He flared, anger propelling his voice.

"I don't mean to be flippant, Chief. The SOT were more than a half-hour away, we called them. Another half-hour and we would've had an entirely different outcome. When I saw smoke coming out of the broken front window, and remembered Yates' words about my house burning down, I made my decision."

"Yeah, a decision to bare-handedly drag burning furniture out of the house and ending up with second degree burns on both arms? Is that a decision you're happy with? The fire Marshall said you're also lucky that the upholstery on that chair was certified flame retardant, what was burning was only the kerosene that Yates poured on it."

"It was the right decision and I'll stand behind it. I'd make the exact same decision in similar circumstances without hesitation." I maintained.

"I know you would. I just hope I'd have the courage to make the same decision if I was in your shoes. But I had to call you on the carpet, so I don't set a precedent of allowing my officers to start making hair-brained decisions. Some of them aren't known for putting a whole lot of pre-thought into theirs. Officially, you're on leave, paid leave of course, for the next five scheduled shifts. Unofficially, I want you to rest, heal and take care of this lady for the next few days."

"Yes, sir."

*****

The GBI investigated the incident to eliminate the possibility of the investigation being tainted by local politics and prejudices and as a result, Brian was indicted on charges of Attempted Murder, Kidnapping, False Imprisonment, Aggravated Assault, Battery and Arson in the First Degree, all charges filed under the Family Violence Act. By the time Defense motions and stall tactics were exhausted the preliminary hearing date wouldn't occur for more than a year in the future. Brian Yates would eventually accept the D.A.'s deal offer and plead guilty to the remaining charges after Attempted Murder was Nolle Prossed and face a sentence of nearly thirty-five years imprisonment since the judge declared all sentences to be served consecutively.

Rachael's attorney petitioned the court for an expedited divorce hearing, which was granted. Brian attended via Video link from the Jail but didn't oppose the proceedings and the divorce was granted nearly four weeks after the assault. She was awarded the house but since Brian had lost his employment and was facing an extended prison sentence, there was no maintenance awarded, although she did receive judgement for half of Brian's retirement account. Rachael and I proudly walked away from the courtroom hand-in-hand and shared our first kiss on the courthouse steps.

I knew our lives had reached a nexus. Whatever direction we each chose to follow at that moment would massively shape the rest of our lives, probably more profoundly than any decision either of us had ever made. Despite all my denials, both to myself and to anyone who mentioned Rachael and me together, I knew what I wanted. I wanted to believe what my friends insisted was true, that Rachael longed for me just as I wanted to claim her as my partner, but caution warned me that she was in a precarious mental state and would want to avoid a relationship with any man after the hell Brian put her through. I had resolved to myself that I would continue to offer any support she needed for as long as she required in the hope that eventually we'd end up together. That she'd recognize that Brian was the exception to the rule, and she could trust a man again. I decided to make sure that I was within arm's length when she reached that emotional milestone. Apparently, Rachael had her own ideas though. I closed the passenger door to my truck and made my way around to the driver's seat and as I cranked the engine, she spoke, while staring out the front windshield. "Take me home. Please."

I nodded my assent and began the drive. When I started to pull into the driveway beside mine, she spoke again. "I don't live here anymore, take me home." So, I bypassed the Yates' driveway and turned into mine next door. She waited for me to open her door and Rachael took my hand in hers then we went into the house together. Once inside, she stopped and stood in front of the sofa in the living room, her head bowed forward and her arms hanging lifelessly at her sides, her shoulders began shaking as she sobbed nearly silently. I gently turned her to face me and wrapped her in my arms. She raised her hands around my back and laid her face against my chest, allowing her tears to soak into my lapel and tie. While we stood in the middle of the room, the doorbell rang, and Mellissa yelled, "Are Y'all decent?!" as she opened the door and walked in with Carolyn following closely behind her. When she realized that Rachael was crying, her jovial, boisterous attitude faded to one of empathetic compassion as she pealed Rachael's arms from around me, "Oh, Dear, what happened? Did something go wrong at court? Come tell me who we need to beat up and I'll send Jim right after them." and she and Carolyn led her to her bedroom where they disappeared behind the closed door.

I was sure that Rachael just needed to let her emotions go unrestrained now that her ordeal was, in all appearances, over. I'm sure the catharsis of a good cry would cleanse her better than almost anything else would, but I kept quiet and let the women work their healing magic in their little coven. I made my way to my bedroom and changed from my court clothes into a comfortable pair of Bike coaches' shorts I still had from the late '80's and a Def Leppard 'Animalize' concert t-shirt. I looked at myself in the mirror and remembered the way Holly used to tease me about my 'Pawpaw' shorts, but I still preferred them to anything I could find in stores today. I once had a half-dozen pairs of the polyester atrocities but was now down to this last grey pair. I decided I needed to go online to see if I could find some more. Why not? I saw a pair of black and white checkerboard Vans shoes not long ago and the '80's seems to be making a comeback so anything's possible. Right? As I walked out of my bedroom into the hallway, my doorbell sounded again. And once again the door opened and two new women rushed through, directly toward the guest bedroom Rachael had been staying in.

"Afternoon Maryanne, Veronica. Good to see y'all. Make yourselves at home."

"Oh, hush." Veronica chirped, "You know you love us, and you wish we'd all sneak into your house more often." as they passed by me like co-habitants.

I chuckled and turned into the kitchen with the sound of Rachael's door shutting solidly behind the two new women. I got a bottle of Amber Bock from the Frigidaire and went out to the deck to open the hot tub cover then kicked back in a deck chair to enjoy the late afternoon warmth. My reverie was broken by the doorbell again, however, about fifteen minutes later. It rang again a few seconds later when I didn't answer but the door remained closed this time, so I went through the house and found Breanna Pittman standing on the front porch with her finger hovering toward the doorbell button.

"You could've just come in like the rest of them did." I said facetiously.

"Well, maybe next time I will." She volleyed. "Um, which way am I supposed to go?"

I pointed her toward Rachael's room and returned to my sanctum out back.

A short time later I was in the kitchen, getting another bottle from the refrigerator and taking a quick inventory of what I had in the freezer and pantry that could impersonate a decent supper when Veronica wrapped her arms around me from behind.

"Hey handsome, the guys will be here shortly and you're going to grill steaks for us, okay?" Then, without waiting for an answer she continued, "Do you have any baking potatoes? Stuff to make salads? Noel and Johnny are getting the meat, and the other guys are getting drinks and potatoes if you don't have any."

I directed Veronica to the pantry, where we chose a dozen of the largest potatoes in the bag. I left her to the task of washing, salting and wrapping the potatoes in aluminum foil to be baked while I went back outside to light some charcoal in my grill.

Forty-Five minutes later, Noel, Johnny, Nathan, Albert, and Tyler were sitting around my covered table arguing good-naturedly about who was the most proficient in front of a grill or barbeque pit. Since we were at my house and it was my grill that I was repositioning the potatoes on, I won the debate by default. Sue me.

Veronica leaned out the back door and asked me to help her in the kitchen, so I handed the tongs to Johnny, who was sitting closest to the grill and followed her through the door.