Hawk rubbed a hand over his forehead where a dull ache throbbed just above his eyes. He had never told Zoe about his mother’s death. But she couldn’t have hit him with anything that hurt worse. He should have been there for his mother during her illness. He should have been with her when she died. He would have been, had he known she was so ill. Why hadn’t she sent for him? Because he’d been unreachable. She had died alone. Emotions sliced and diced his insides like a blood-thirsty sushi chef.
Bowie approached him. He pulled his thoughts back to the current situation with an effort. “I’m parked out front of the hospital. She’ll catch a cab. I’ll follow her to the apartment. Can you give me a quick rundown of what happened?”
“You know Cutter’s apartment is next to mine. My date and I had just finished dinner, when we heard a crash from inside there and some strange muffled noises. When the door slammed hard enough to shake the walls, and there was the sound of running in the hallway, so I thought I’d better check it out. That’s when I found Zoe. She was down, and hurt. I was afraid to move her. Sheila, my date, called nine-one-one from the hall, and we stayed with her until the police and the ambulance came. Sheila’s still at my apartment waiting for me to get back. I asked her to stick around. I asked her to listen in on the cops and see if she could pick up on anything.”
So at least this time Bowie had an alibi. Some of the tension eased from Hawk’s shoulders. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to come up and see what she has to say myself,” he said.
“Sure.” Bowie searched his face. “Zoe has a mad on that doesn’t quit, and a stubborn streak a mile wide. The ER doctor wanted to give her a shot, but she refused it. They gave her some oral pain meds, and she’s supposed to follow up with a doctor tomorrow.”
Hawk nodded. The adrenaline rush he’d experienced after Bowie’s call had passed and his hands shook. He clenched them into fists. “I’ll see you back at the apartment building.”
Bowie nodded. “I don’t suppose she’ll give me a pass on trying to give the two of you time to work things out, will she?”
Now that he’d ended things with her, would Bowie try and make his move? And if he did, what right did Hawk have to say anything about it?
The pain he’d read in her expression only moments before made his sudden jealousy seemed petty and foolish. Though it killed him, he said, “She won’t stay mad at you, Bowie.”
“What about you, LT?”
Hawk shook his head. “I’d better catch up to her. See you back at the apartment complex.”
As soon as he was in the elevator on his way downstairs, his thoughts swung back to Zoe. He’d put her in direct danger without knowing it. He’d expected her to come back to the house, not catch a cab to Brett’s. He should have known when she didn’t answer her phone--
By trying to do the right thing, he’d done the wrong thing? And now it was up to him to make it right.