This is a work of fiction, using characters from the film, “LA Confidential".  No insult or invasion of privacy or infringement of copyright is intended. The story is for readers over the age of 18 only, and contains adult language. The writer is not responsible for any "discomfort" caused to the reader by this language and these situations.

Shadows

©2007 by: KC

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The woman, dressed in a fancy, expensive woolen suit, swept to their table.  Her hair was pinned into a pretentious bun above her head.  Around her shoulders was a hideous fur.  Lynne wanted to wrap it around her neck.

"Well, Lynn, fancy meeting you, here.  Girl's afternoon out?"

"Not exactly," Lynn replied coldly.

"I thought not.  I mean, if I weren't married to a doctor, this would be the last place I would be socializing--" she looked at Joy.  "Oh, pardon me, forgive my manners, my name is Mrs. Lorraine Conroy--and you are--"

Joy took her pro-offered hand.  "Joy.  Joy Garrison."

Lorraine pointed to the empty chair.  "May I join you?"

"Actually," Lynn said, hurriedly, "I have to get back to my husband--"

"--oh, dear."  Lorraine put her hands together.  "Has he injured himself, again?"

"Well.  No," Lynn said, pointedly, "the criminal did that."

"Of course, that's what I meant, nothing serious, I hope--"

Lynn wasn't about to tell her anything more.  She got up, came around to Joy and whispered something in her ear.  Then she said, aloud, "I'll see you upstairs."

"I should come with you--"

"No, that's all right--you finish your lunch."  And she took off.

'Thanks a lot, Lynn,' Joy thought, sourly, not hearing Lorraine ask, "I see you two are friends?"

"What was that, I'm sorry--"

"I say--you two are friends?"

"Oh, dear."  As a waiter came around, she said, "yes, I'll have a coffee.  Black."

Joy thought, a coffee?  Who talks like that?  Aloud, she said, "aren't you having lunch?"

"Lunch?  Here?  Hardly.  I'm waiting for my husband to rescue me.  He's running late, of course, he let's his patients control his schedule."  She frowned.  "Oh, dear.  And if it's that Officer White, again--you didn't see him with him, did you?"

"Who?"

"Well, my husband of course."

"I've never met your husband," Joy said, "and if you'll pardon me--I really need to be with Lynn."

"Is it serious?"

"Is what serious?"

"His injuries.  Is he at death's door, again?"

"I don't know what you--"

"--Because if that's the case, I might as well go home, right now.  Last time this happened, I didn't see him for days.  Days.  I thought he'd never come home.  Why is that horrid man always getting himself hurt?  Has he no sense, at all?"

Joy couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Well, he is a police officer.  And a very brave one, may I add.  I'm sorry you feel so inconvenienced."

"My goodness," Lorraine exclaimed, "such a loyal friend.  How do you happen to know them?"

"Actually, as it happens," Joy replied, nearly clenching her teeth, "I work for that 'horrid' husband of hers.  And Captain Exley.  I'm their new Secretary."

"Oh."  Lorraine seemed slightly taken aback.  "No offense."

At this, Joy remained silent, refusing the standard 'none taken' response, but it didn't phase Lorraine, at all.

"Well--now I see why you have to spend time with your--um--friend."

"Do you?"

"Yes, well, normally, it's considered smart to get ‘in’ with the boss’s wife, if you know what I mean--but if you want some advice, Miss--oh, I am sorry--?"

"Garrison," said Joy, with what she hoped was ice dripping from her voice.

"Miss Garrison.  I wouldn't get too close to Lynn White if I were you.  She likes to pass herself off as a successful businesswoman, a respected member of the community--but her reputation does proceed her, you know."

Joy couldn't take it anymore.  She stood up, nearly slamming the chair against the table.

"You know, I think I better leave.  Otherwise," her hand rested on her cup,  "this coffee I'm drinking--which is quite hot, thank you--is going to be in your face and then that physician husband will have to treat you for first degree burns."

She smiled, sweetly, and walked out of the cafe, relishing the look on Mrs. Lorraine Conroy's face.

~*~

Ed paced the hallway between Bud's room and the elevator, nursing the cup of bilge that passed for coffee from the nearby machine.  The bilge effectively nudged his ulcer with each gulp, but he was too tense and nervous to stop; and he thought, if he got one more call from the Commissioner or the D.A. demanding his presence at the office, he was going to rip that hospital telephone from the walls.

Finally, the doors opened and Bud was rolled out onto the hospital floor by three attendants, followed and Dr. Conroy.  Ed followed, as they took him to his room.

"Well," Ed said, anxiously.

"We won't be sure until we get the x-rays,” Conroy said, "but he should be waking up soon, we'll know more, then.  Where's Lynn?"

"Still down in the cafeteria--should I get her?"

"No, let's let her try and relax--there's nothing she can do, anyway--"

But in the next moment, Bud's eyes opened.

"Bud, can you hear me, it's Dr. Conroy."

There was no response.  Conroy leaned closer to Bud's face.  "Bud.  You're in the hospital.  You've probably got some broken ribs--we've taped them--but you're bound to be in a lot of pain, so try not to move."

Bud finally focused on Conroy's face.

"Doc--that you?"

"Yep--with my favorite patient.  But if you cooperate, your visit won't be as long as the last one."

Ed saw him looking around for Lynn and started to go after her but at that very moment, she walked in.  She eyed Dr. Conroy anxiously and he answered her silent question.

"He just woke up.  He'll be fine, Lynn, like I told you."

At that, she walked past Ed, not even acknowledging his presence and bent over her husband's still form in the bed.  After a moment, she looked up.

"He's in a lot of pain, can't you give him something?” When she didn't respond

Conroy shook his head.  "Not until tomorrow.  We have to be sure he doesn't have any complications from the concussion.  That's why it's important to keep him quiet."

"Easier said than done."  She looked up.  "You know that, Dr. Conroy," and the doctor could swear, there was a touch of humor in her voice.

Ed came up to the bed.  "Hey, White," he said softly, "see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Gotta--talk," Bud managed to say.

"Tomorrow."  He looked at Lynn.  "If you need anything, call."

Lynn gave a slight nod, her eyes not leaving Bud's face.  After an awkward, short moment, that was not lost on Bud,  Ed left.

~*~

"Do you have to go back to the department, tonight?"

"Yes, I do," said Ed wearily, "if I want a job, tomorrow."  He pulled out of the hospital parking lot and they headed downtown.

"But you must be exhausted," said Joy, touching the uncustomary stubble on his face.  "And starving!  You never did get anything to eat--"

"--they've been calling the hospital, all day long--you know that.  This is huge news.  We have to make a statement that'll hit the papers in the morning.  But," he looked at her as they came to a red light, "there's no reason for you to come along, you must be as beat as I am.  I'll drop you off at your place."  When she didn't respond, he said, "Are you okay?"

"Of course, she said, her voice a bit too bright, "why wouldn't I be?"

"Come on, Joy, don't lie to me."  The light hit green; he started driving again, then, suddenly pulled over.

"Why are we stopping?"

"Because I want to do this," and he pulled her into a passionate kiss, then whispered into her ear.

"I'm sorry.  I was so worried about Bud--I never once asked you how you were doing."

"I've been better," she confessed, but her voice was shaking.

"You were fantastic, today," he said, "you were there for all of us.  I'll never know how to thank you."

"Well--I have an idea."  And her eyes were suddenly twinkling.

"What's that?"

"That you come back to the apartment, later.  I'll make--breakfast."

As exhausted as he was, Ed's eyes twinkled.

"Just try and keep me away."

~*~

As Dr. Conroy left the room, closing the door behind him, Lynn uttered a deep sigh.

"You okay," Bud whispered.

"I will be."  She took off the heavy coat she had been wearing for hours, kicked off her shoes and threw them in the corner of the room and sat on the bed.  "Scooch over."  When he seemed not to understand, she repeated, "scooch over.  You're always such a bed hog!"  She crawled into the narrow bed, beside him; he moved over.

"I've been dreaming about this, all day," she whispered, into his ear.

"Yeah," he said, faintly, "romantic, isn't it?"

"Hush.  Go to sleep."

But she didn't have to tell him: his eyes had already closed.  He never saw and didn't even feel the tears that were falling on his chest.

~*~

It was a long night.

Despite her attempts to hold and comfort him, he was in such pain that he couldn't help but move around in agony and she could tell it was difficult for him to breathe.  Nurses kept coming in to check on him regularly but there was little they could do.   Finally, at five in the morning, Conroy showed up.

"How's he doing?"

"Terrible,” Lynn said, stonily.  "He's hardly slept and neither have I.  Can you please give him some medication, now?"

Conroy checked Bud's vitals.

"Bud, can you hear me?"

Bud muttered something.

"Any dizziness, ringing in your ears?"

He managed to shake his head.

"Does your head hurt? Has your stomach bothered you, have you felt nauseous?"

When Bud wouldn't or couldn't answer, Lynn exclaimed, "God, Dr. Conroy,  I  told you.  He's miserable--"

"--all right."  Conroy watched Bud's chest as he took short, painful breaths.  "Normally, I'd like to wait longer, when there's a head injury to give medication.  But I guess a small dose wouldn't hurt."

Lynn breathed a sigh of relief: he said something to the nurse who hurried out of the room.  He turned back to her.  "I'm sorry, Lynn, I hope you understand--"

Before Lynn could reply, the nurse was back in the room with a tray.  Conroy took it quickly, swabbed Bud's arm with alcohol and held the syringe to Bud's arm.  He pressed the syringe, carefully injecting the fluid.

"This shouldn't take long," he pronounced.  "He'll be asleep, very soon and I don't expect  he'll wake up until this afternoon."  He looked at Lynn with concern.  "Why don't you go home, get some rest.  We'll take good care of him."

She shook her head.  "I'm not going anywhere."

"Lynn."  It was barely a whisper, but she heard him.

"He's right."  He was actually focusing on her face.  "Go on, now.  Take care of our baby."

"Are you sure--"

"Yeah--Lynn--?"

"What's that, darling?"

"Check on--Wanda."  His voice was fading.  "See if--she needs--anything."

"Of course, I will."  She touched her hand to her lips, put it against his face, thick with stubble.  "Go to sleep.  I'll be back soon."

His eyes closed; she wasn't sure if he had heard her.  She saw his body slowly relaxing, his breathing slowing into a regular rhythm.  He was asleep.

TBC

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