TESTAMENT OF FAITH

by LCB

LITTLE DISCLAIMER: Silk Stalkings and all characters in this story from the television show, Silk Stalkings, are the property of the USA Network and Stephen J. Cannell. No infringement intended. These stories are for entertainment purposes only.

BIG DISCLAIMER: Okay, we all know that I am not a professional writer, and there is no method to my madness. Therefore, I apologize for writing part six before I finished Destinations of the Heart. I really tried to stay on schedule, but this story came to me and it just wouldn't let me be. I tried to ignore it, but it kept nagging at me, sometimes at one in the morning. It insisted on being put down on paper. So here it is, the final installment.

For all of us who refuse to believe in the USA Network ending, don't be afraid to read this. As the title suggests, have faith. I hope, like Chris in my story, you'll find that even though the journey may be painful, love and family make it all worthwhile. Thank you again to Wanda and Cathy R., I couldn't have done it without your help and suggestions.

     "Jackpot," Chris whispered to himself with satisfaction. He had just opened a safety deposit box belonging to one recently deceased vice detective by the name of Ray Quiller. Chris' new partner, Holly Rawlins, had narrowly missed becoming the latest date rape victim of the dearly departed Ray. Her personal vendetta had turned up some pretty interesting rumors about the detective, and it hadn't been difficult to start digging up the facts.

     Chris had discovered information suggesting that Detective Quiller and his partner Wayne had a long-standing business arrangement with Colombian drug lord Jesus Montoya. Montoya, now living in a multimillion dollar home in Palm Beach, would pass on the names of high volume local drug dealers, enabling Quiller to build an impressive law enforcement career by taking down his competition. In turn, Quiller would insure that all attempts to investigate the drug lord would come up clean. Local drug enforcement agencies had been stymied for years, unable to find proof of the illegal activities that they suspected.

     It should have been the perfect set up, and it did work for a number of years. Simple greed and over-confidence had been Quiller's downfall. For additional income, Ray and his partner, Wayne, had begun a new scam. With Montoya's help, they had inside information when a big sale was going down. Showing up, guns drawn, while the money and drugs were still on the table, they would go through the motions of a bust. Confiscating the drugs and cash as evidence was easy, and they turned them over to Montoya for a generous finder's fee. The not so innocent victims avoided arrest and were unable to turn to the police for help. They could do nothing.

     Unfortunately, someone else had gotten to Detective Quiller before Chris had enough evidence to arrest him. His body had been discovered in an underground parking structure just that morning. The key to this box had been found hidden in his car, and Holly's research on her computer had turned up the box's location.

     Because of Holly's recent involvement with Ray, Chris was working the investigation alone. With any luck, his new superior officer would be willing to lend him a hand, if needed. He was more than willing to work with the new Chief of Detectives, Lt. Lance, on any and all special projects she could come up with. He loved it when she took charge. Smiling, he thought of a certain project of theirs that would be arriving in just a few short months. In fact, just this morning he had reminded Rita that they needed to start deciding on some names. The bank teller cleared his throat as he waited for Chris to finish.

     Returning his focus to the bank bag in his hands, he pulled out a handful of audio surveillance tapes and read the labels. There were also video tapes and bundles of cash. This was it. Everything they needed to nail Montoya's sorry hide to the wall. Stuffing the tapes and cash back into the bag, he headed out of the bank to his car, unaware that Montoya's men had been tailing him all day. Just as he opened the car door, his cell phone rang.

     "Yeah, Lorenzo."

     "I have something you want. You have something I want. You will be contacted."

     Stunned, Chris looked down at the bag in his hand. The caller had hung up without identifying himself, but Chris knew who it was and exactly what he wanted.

     A street hockey game was in progress as Chris pulled into the beach front parking lot. The long black limo arrived just seconds later. Chris stayed focused as he sat behind the wheel of his parked car and watched their approach. He felt only a deadly calm as the limo came to a stop twenty feet away. The driver emerged from the front seat holding an automatic weapon in front of him. Montoya and his bodyguard emerged from the back, keeping Rita between them. Chris stepped out of his car. Blind fury rose up and threatened to choke him as he noticed her bound wrists.

     As they walked towards him, he reached back into the car for the bag. Meeting them halfway, he spoke directly to Rita.

     "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

     "Yeah," was all she could manage. She was held firmly by both men, and she knew she was in a very vulnerable position. The parking lot was emptying out as the hockey game ended, and no one seemed to notice the deadly drama being played out.

     Montoya snickered as he watched the couple. "I've know for some time that Ray had a little insurance policy, but I could never get to it without a warrant." He loved to play the role of a civilized, cultured, gentleman and he spoke to Chris and Rita in a most gracious tone. "I apologize for these tactics. I hate using women, especially as beautiful and charming a one as this." He taunted Chris by stroking the side of Rita's face, very nearly getting the reaction he wanted.

     Chris was trying to control himself for Rita's sake. He knew this was all a game to Montoya. Montoya thought he was invincible because he used dirty cops like Quiller for protection. Men who could be manipulated by their own greed in a search for riches. There was only one treasure in his life that had any value for Chris, and Montoya was holding her right now.

     Chris managed to stop himself from reaching for the bastard, but he couldn't stop a deadly warning from slipping out. "You touch her again, and I'll drop you where you stand," he threatened quietly, but with serious intent.

     Montoya let a small smile form on his lips. "Ah, I suppose the message for the day is 'chivalry is not dead,' yet," he paused as he continued to stare at Chris. "The bag?" he questioned, becoming bored with the game.

     Chris opened the bag and let Montoya glance at the contents. "My wife," he demanded. He handed the bag over to Montoya as Montoya and his bodyguard pushed Rita towards him. He immediately positioned her behind him, shielding her completely until all three men had gotten back into the limo and were driving away.

     Turning quickly to his wife, he cut the bindings on her wrist and pulled her into his arms.

     "Sam," he murmured into her hair as he hugged her fiercely, "I'm so glad you're all right."

     Rita could barely breathe, he was holding her so tight, but she didn't try to pull away. Hugging him back, she tried to swallow the fear that was still gripping her. She kissed him, needing to reassure herself that the crisis was over and they were safe.

     "I thought that was going to be it," she said, her voice still shaky.

     Chris framed her beautiful face with his hands before trying to reassure her with another warm, firm kiss. He knew exactly how she was feeling, his heartbeat was still racing.

     "I know," he whispered, relief evident in his voice. "I'm never going to leave you again," he promised. Chris kept on arm securely around Rita as he walked her over to the passenger side door of his car. As he opened it and started to help her in, something to the right of him caught his attention.

     A sixth sense alerted Chris to the skater's intent. Glancing over his shoulder, the first thing he noticed was a weapon being raised, and his thoughts immediately focused on Rita and their unborn child. His left hand pushed her into the car as his right hand drew his gun. The masked hockey player began firing as he skated towards the car. Chris managed to fire two rounds before the first bullet hit him and threw him backwards. He fought to regain his balance and continued firing, hitting the skater at least once. Expecting the impact against the bullet proof vest, it took a few seconds for him to realize that something had gone horribly wrong. Chris had just enough time to make sure Rita was safely in the car before the impact of the second bullet knocked him to the ground. Still firing as he went down, he was able to hit the assailant a second time, forcing him to flee.

     Rita's heart was racing as the shooting stopped and a deadly quiet filled the air. It had only been a minute or two since the onslaught had begun. When Chris had pushed her into the car, her hands had immediately gone out to cushion her stomach from the fall and by the time she struggled into a sitting position, it was all over. Stepping out of the car and seeing the skater speed away, her eyes flew to her husband where he lay on the ground.

     "Chris, you're hit," she screamed, but he didn't seem to hear her. Rita rushed over to him. "You're hit," she repeated, dropping to her knees as she reached his side. She ripped open his shirt and her heart sank. There were two gaping holes in the vest and blood was soaking through. Racing back to the car, she frantically grabbed the radio mike and called in the shooting, not wanting to waste time away from Chris.

     "Officer down! Beach parking lot at North Shore Line Drive. Officer down!" her heartfelt cry went over the air before she threw down the mike and rushed back to his side. Kneeling down next to him, she tried to find a way to make him more comfortable. Afraid to move the vest, she tried to cradle his head without moving him too much.

     "Chris, just keep talking to me. You're going to be okay. You're going to be okay," she insisted, unable to stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.

     Rita tried to calm his frantic movements, but Chris was in pain and his arms were flailing. He tried to reach for her but he was becoming incoherent. "Bullet proof vest....bullet proof vest....." he kept repeating.

     She continued stroking his face even though her own hands were shaking with fear. Knowing the internal damage was bad, she didn't want him to make it worse. Where was that ambulance! Placing little kisses on his mouth and neck, she tried to force him to remain conscious. "Just keep talking to me," she sobbed, taking one of his hands in hers. "I love you. Just keep talking."

     Chris could hear Rita's voice in the distance. Pain consumed him and every breath was like breathing fire. All he could manage were short, panting breaths. His vision was going cloudy, and he was desperate to say something to her before she faded from sight. He made one final attempt to communicate his last conscious thought. "Rita..." the word came out with a rush of air in between painful breaths, "Rita..."

     Rita was on the ground, her body hunched over him as if to protect him from further harm. She lay her cheek against his as he struggled to speak. Each time he gave up, she kept whispering frantically in his ear, "I love you, Chris. I love you. Just hang on."

     "I love you," he managed at last, "I love you." The effort to speak had cost him his remaining strength, and he never heard her response. He lost consciousness as the sirens screamed their approach.

     Three squad cars arrived first, followed by an ambulance and paramedics. Dispatch was still trying to locate Harry. The uniformed officers kept the crowd back as they tried to locate witnesses. Not one of them disturbed Rita as she knelt by her husband's side. They felt like intruders as they watched her whispering to his unconscious form. The popular couple was well known by all the officers in the department, and their love story was a PBPD legend. This tragedy today would leave no one untouched. Horrified onlookers watched a pregnant Rita tenderly stroke Chris' forehead as the paramedics started an IV. Each fellow officer said a silent prayer for the couple. Stray bullets had been identified as cop killers, and they watched the ambulance drive away with sinking spirits.

     Harry rushed down the sterile white hallway of the hospital. His heart was pounding with fear as he followed the nurse's directions. He and Frannie had been at a restaurant for a late lunch with out of town friends when he had been paged with the code for an officer involved shooting. A quick phone call had confirmed his worst fears, and a squad car in the area was sent to pick him up within minutes. Frannie would be following shortly, after dropping their friends off at their hotel.

     As he reached the open doorway, he had to lean against the wall for a minute to catch his breath. Glancing into the room, he swore he could actually feel his heart breaking. He was sure that the sight of Rita's small figure, huddled in a chair with her head lying on Chris' arm, was a sight that would haunt him for years. Her hands clung to one of Chris', and Harry thought she had fallen asleep.

     "Rita," he called to her quietly as he entered the room. The anguish in his voice reached out to Rita and she lifted her head to watch him approach. Words failed him as he drew near the hospital bed. Harry held out his arms to her. He could see the pain and shock in her eyes. He felt so helpless.

     Rita stood up slowly, her pregnant body stiff from the uncomfortable chair. Carefully releasing Chris' hand, she gently placed it back on the bed and stroked his arm before turning to Harry. Unable to speak, she walked into his arms and cried for the first time since arriving at the hospital. Harry held her tight as she sobbed with grief. He struggled to keep from crying himself in an effort to be strong for her.

     "Rita," he tried again, "I don't even know where to begin."

     "You don't have to say anything, Cap."

     As she wiped her eyes and tried to compose herself, Harry forced himself to ask the dreaded question, "How is he?"

     "I don't know," she confessed quietly. It was killing him to see her looking so lost. "I mean they don't really tell you much, you know. What his chances are, or anything." She was trying to be strong for Chris. She had to be strong for him and the baby. Rita returned to Chris' side, keeping one hand on his arm as if trying to transfer her life force to him. If she just held on to him, maybe she could stop him from slipping away.

     She had been too young to prevent her mother's or father's deaths, and she had already moved out on her own when her foster parents were killed in a car accident. Those events had been out of her control. But this was her fault. She couldn't let him die. He never broke promises.

     "They did what they could in surgery," she continued as she lightly stroked Chris' arm. "But there was a lot of internal damage. All we can do now is wait." Turning to face the Captain, her eyes reflected the weariness of her soul. "How could this happen to us now, Cap?" she begged for an answer that would help her understand. "He's been so excited about the baby. Just this morning, he insisted that we start picking out names." Tears pooled once again in her red rimmed eyes as she thought back to how happy they had been just a few short hours ago.

     Harry walked over to stand behind Rita. He placed an arm around her shoulders and one hand reached down to rest next to hers, on Chris' arm. They held on to him together, feeling the life flow weakly through him.

     Rita ran her free hand gently through Chris' hair before turning to look at Harry. "It was two cop killers, Cap. Right through the vest," she said quietly. "He pushed me into the car so I could protect myself and the baby."

     Harry didn't know what else to say. He looked down at the young man who was like a son to him and sadness paralyzed him. Any officer hurt in the line of duty affected him deeply but this tragedy threatened to overwhelm him. He needed Frannie's loving support and he prayed she would arrive soon. He tried to push aside the despair so he could help Rita keep faith. She needed to have hope to hang on to. He spoke quietly to her, "Chris is a fighter, Rita. If anyone can bounce back from this, he can. He loves you so much."

     "I believe that, Cap. He promised he would be there for me and the baby. Oh, Cap," she sighed, brokenly. Unable to stop the tears that continued to fall, Rita closed her eyes and prayed. She prayed for Chris, she prayed for herself and she prayed for their unborn child. She had never felt so alone in her life. Her world was crumbling apart as history repeated itself. She was very close to losing the most important person in her life. This was all her fault.

     Chris couldn't remember how he had gotten so lost. He kept walking through the thick mist, hoping to find a familiar landmark. He couldn't see anything except a bright light in the distance. He focused on the light and broke into a run, trying to get there quickly. After running for what seemed like miles, he stopped. He didn't even feel winded, but the light wasn't any closer.

     What was going on here? He turned around, looking back in the direction from which he had come. He had a slight nagging feeling that he needed to go back there, but the light was beckoning to him, enticing him closer and closer. He turned back towards it.

     As if watching actors in a play, he found himself observing a scene from his childhood. He had no clear memory of his life, but somehow he knew that he was this child. He was four years old and sitting on the stairway of his mother's Beverly Hills home. His parents were downstairs fighting, unaware of his presence on the stairs. The yelling got louder and he covered his ears. The words still reached him.

     "I can't drop everything I'm doing every time you decide to go 'on location'. I have a business to run," his father yelled angrily, not knowing that little ears were listening.

     "Would you rather I left him home alone again, with the maid?" his mother shot back.

     "What I would have preferred is that you had not had children if you weren't willing to take care of them," came the caustic reply.

     "As if you're any better?" his mother's sarcasm caused the child to flinch as if physically struck.

     Watching himself as a four year old, he had to turn away. Long forgotten feelings of rejection and loneliness came back to him. He once again felt the desperate longing to find someone who would love him unconditionally. The pain was just as real now as he relived it again. Neither of his parents put the simple needs of a four year old before their own selfish concerns. Shuffled from one parent to the other, even at this tender age, he knew he was an inconvenience to both. In an instant, the scene was over.

     "Any change?"

     Rita looked past Harry to see Holly standing in the doorway. She dried her eyes with the back of her hand before responding to Chris' partner.

     "No," she replied quietly as she turned back to her husband.

     "Rita, I'm so sorry."

     "Not now, Holly. We all need to send Chris positive energy right now."

     "I just can't help but think that if it wasn't for me, that maybe none of this would have happened," Holly tried to explain to Rita.

     Rita looked at the young detective and tried to ease her mind. "Chris was investigating the murder of Ray Quiller. It had nothing to do with you. He was shot protecting me. He would never let you take the blame for that and neither will I." She tried to make Holly understand that this had nothing to do with her. She couldn't let Holly carry the heavy burden of guilt that belonged squarely on her own shoulders.

     Rita's compassion only made Holly feel worse. "Well, I just want to let you know that if there's anything I can do, anything at all...."

     "You can find out who shot my husband," Rita answered quickly. "And you can take down Montoya," she added, unable to control the hate in her voice.

     The message came over loud and clear. Holly nodded her understanding as Harry looked on. "You got it," she promised.

     Harry tried to recapture his professional demeanor. Montoya was still out there, probably laughing at them. In this room, prayers were all he could offer Chris right now. But outside, he could get justice and revenge for him.

     "Any word on Montoya?" he asked the guilt ridden young detective.

     "No, but we have several units canvassing the area right now, and we've located a witness who claims to have gotten a look at the shooter."

     "What are you waiting for?" Harry snapped at her.

     "Since I'm so close to this, I want back up. I don't want any misunderstandings later on."

     "Okay, I'm your man," he offered quickly. "Rita?" he queried, throwing her a questioning glance. Harry was worried about leaving her alone but he was desperate to catch the bastard responsible for today's tragedy.

     "Yeah, Cap," she looked up at him with weary eyes, "you guys go. We'll be fine."

     Harry quickly followed Holly out the door, leaving Rita to continue her silent vigil by her husband's bedside.

     It was hard to shake off the feelings of loneliness as he walked slowly toward the light. He had only taken a few steps when he found himself in the living room of his mother's house. He was older now and watching television. His mother's smiling image flashed by on the screen as she attended the Academy Awards. She had been nominated for the best actress Oscar and he was so proud of her. Just a few hours ago he talked their maid, Maria, into taking him out to buy two dozen roses for his mother. He used the allowance money he had been saving for months because she loved red roses and he wanted to surprise her on her big day. He wasn't too upset when she lost because he knew the flowers would make up for it. Maybe she would give him one of her special smiles and they could spend some time together. She was always so busy with her work and her friends.

     He took the two dozen red roses with him into the living room and he sat down in a chair facing the front door, the roses resting in his lap. He waited anxiously. The older Chris could see the excitement in the young boy's eyes, and he was already experiencing the pain of what he knew was coming next. A little while later, the boy fell asleep, the flowers falling to the floor. His mother never came home that night. In fact, she didn't come home for two weeks, long after the roses had been thrown away. Later, he would never even mention that he had bought them.

     As the scene ended, he once again felt like that four year old on the stairs. The loneliness was turning to despair. Not wanting to suffer through any more of these experiences, he started running again. After each scene, the light had appeared a little closer. Somehow, he knew there was comfort there, and he was desperate to reach it.

     As he ran, his surroundings changed once again. It was his high school graduation. He watched himself walk to the podium in cap and gown. He had grown, with his grandmother's guidance, into a popular student and athlete. He heard the catcalls and cheers from his friends as he accepted his diploma. His eighteen year old eyes scanned the audience, searching for either of his parents. His grandmother had been very sick lately and the doctor wouldn't let her attend. It was bed rest or back to the hospital. Her frailty was worrying him now. He had flourished under her loving care and firm hand during the last eight years and he was afraid because he knew he would someday lose her. When she found out that she wouldn't be able to attend the graduation, she had made him promise to call his parents and invite them. Both of them had said they would try and make it, but he searched in vain. He knew it had been a mistake to even try.

     As the ceremony ended, he spent a few minutes accepting congratulations from his friend's parents before deciding to head home and check on his grandmother. There was no one here just for him today. He turned down invitations to join his friends and their families as he made his way to the parking lot

     Chris watched the pensive eighteen year old walk away as the mist returned. The light was even nearer. Within reaching distance now. As he walked closer, he could see that the light was shining through a long tunnel. As he approached the entrance, he turned to look behind him again. The need to return that way had grown weaker and weaker and all he could remember was the pain and sadness of what he had just witnessed.

     "Christopher, is that you, boy?" The voice settled over him, warming his heart and filling his soul with love. He whipped his head back around and tried to stare into the bright light.

     "Grandma Rose?" he asked hopefully. She had always been there for him. The one bright shining part of his lonely childhood. She represented warmth, safety, love and kindness. She was everything to a lonely boy in search of a real home and someone to love him.

     A single gun shot was heard coming from inside the dilapidated house. Holly stayed hidden behind a large tree. Her gun was drawn and she watched for any movement inside. The back door opened, but instead of Ray Quiller's partner, Wayne, Montoya himself came through the back gate. He continued walking towards her across the junk filled property as he headed for his car.

     "Montoya, freeze!" she screamed as she stepped out from her hiding place, gun pointed at his heart.

     Instead of stopping, he pulled his gun out of his jacket and fired as he changed directions. Holly was forced to take cover. They continued exchanging shots as Montoya reached an area that dropped down to the road below. He was firing as he backed down the hillside and never noticed Captain Lipschitz below him.

     Painful memories were replaced by feelings of comfort and love as a small figure appeared at the entrance to the tunnel.

     "Yes, Christopher. I've been sent to meet you." The tiny woman was dressed all in white and there was an ethereal glow about her. When she smiled at him the light surrounding her became even brighter.

     "I've missed you so much," he confessed. She looked beautiful to him. Not like the frail, pain ravished woman that he had sat with for weeks as her body wasted away during her final days on earth. She raised a hand to stay him as he tried to approach her.

     "I know, boy," she comforted him using her nickname for him. "But I've been here all along, keeping an eye on you." She moved closer to him and he felt the intensity of her love reach out to him. "I've been very proud of you, Christopher. You've grown into a fine young man."

     "I've always tried to remember the things you taught me. When you passed away, I was so alone again."

     "I know, Christopher. That's why I won't lecture you on your dating habits. I certainly didn't teach you that, young man," she admonished him gently, her beautiful smile taking the bite out of her words.

     Chris smiled back and then remembered a question that he needed to ask. "If I'm here with you, does that mean that my life is over?"

     "Technically, yes. But you have a decision you need to make, boy."

     "What do you mean, Grandma?" he asked. It felt wonderful to say her name again, but he was confused.

     "Well, it seems that you left behind many people who love you, and they're fighting to bring you back to them. There are so many prayers and so much love being sent your way that it is now a matter of will. Your will. Do you want to return or do you want to follow the light? His grandmother gestured to the other end of the tunnel and Chris gazed deep into the light. Everything good was waiting in there for him.

     "Will you be in there with me?" he asked her, still basking in the warmth of her love.

     "Yes, Christopher, I will. But you have to be sure that this is what you want to do. You won't get this chance again. Only a select few get to decide for themselves."

     Chris didn't have to even think about it. The light beckoned. It promised love and security. "I definitely want to stay here with you," he confessed as he looked into the face that had always meant unconditional love to him. "I don't want to go back. There's nothing left for me back there, except painful memories and loneliness. I'd rather be with you again and see what's on the other side."

     Rita was alone again with Chris and she was exhausted. George had been staying with her for a while because Frannie was having car trouble and was waiting for the patrol car that had been sent to pick her up. Rita had finally been able to convince George that she would be okay on her own for a little while and they had said an emotional goodbye. George had been badly shaken after seeing Chris, and he was now headed back to his office so he could check his schedule and make arrangements to be available for Rita, in case she should need him.

     "We're very lucky, Chris," she whispered. "Everyone sends you their love and they're waiting for you to come back to us."

     As she lay her head on Chris' arm, she rested her eyes for a few moments. Dr. Thompson had also been by to check on Chris' condition. There was no good news but at least Chris was continuing to hang on. She could tell by the doctor's expression that he wasn't very hopeful, but she refused to give up on him. Within minutes she had fallen asleep.

     Smiling as she walked along side her partner, Rita enjoyed the feel of the warm ocean breeze on her face. They had rolled up their pant legs and were walking barefoot along the water's edge. The sound of the waves breaking at their feet was sweeter than any music man's artistry could create. Palm Beach at sunset was a sight to behold and this was another warm, sultry night. Just being with Chris made her so happy again.

     As they passed another rocky formation, they came across an open stretch of beach. The sand was unusually white and there was no one else in sight. The sun was setting in the west and the sky was a hundred brilliant shades of orange and red.

     They both stopped walking and turned to face each other. Chris reached over to tuck a flyaway strand of hair back behind her ear. He smiled at her and tipped her chin up so she was looking directly at him. The setting sun was behind him and she could barely make out his features as he spoke to her.

     "No matter where you are, no matter what you're doing, no matter how you're doing, I will always be there for you. I want you to know this." The seriousness of his tone made her pause before answering him.

     Looking up at him with all the love she felt reflected in her eyes, she replied confidently, "I think if we keep hanging on to each other we're not going to drift very far."

     Chris reached for her and she slipped into his arms. She could feel the strength in his vital, healthy body and she reveled in it. She was content to stay here forever....

     A loud urgent beeping woke her out of the dream. She thought she could still feel his arms but it was a nurse pulling her out of the chair and hustling her out of the room. She found herself alone in the hallway as doctors and nurses rushed past her. Words like crash cart, cardiac arrest, and code blue flew by her at the speed of light.

     Her hand flew to cover her mouth as she watched them prepare to try and shock Chris' heart back into a rhythm. The constant drone of the heart monitor was ominous.

     "Give me 300! Clear!" The doctor yelled out instructions as they prepared the paddles. The organized chaos in the room left no space for Rita. She had to wait, forgotten, in the doorway. She could feel herself start to hyperventilate as the second attempt failed.

     Harry spotted Montoya at the top of the hill. Weapon in hand, Harry aimed the high- powered rifle before yelling out the required warning.

     "Drop it, Montoya!" he bellowed, keeping his target in site.

     Hearing the voice behind him, Jesus Montoya looked down the hill and felt an inkling of fear for the first time. He ignored it. He was a Montoya, and no small town civil servant would ever be a match for him. Turning his gun on the Captain, he didn't have time to fire before the Captain and Holly each fired one round straight through to his black heart. He was dead instantly and his body rolled down the hillside, coming to a stop not far from Harry's feet.

     Holly jogged down the hill and stood silently with the Captain as back up units arrived.

     "He should have been made to suffer," Harry commented. "This was too quick and painless for him."

     "Why don't you go back to the hospital, Captain. I'll stay here and finish up."

     Harry stared up the hill for a moment, waiting for the sweet satisfaction of revenge. It never came. Turning back to Holly, he went through the motions of his job, his mind and heart already back with Chris and Rita at the hospital.

     "Good shooting, Rawlins. Be sure they check the house. I'm sure Quiller's partner is reunited with him in hell now, but make sure all the loose ends are taken care of. I'll be at the hospital if anything comes up." Sighing deeply, he got back into his car and drove off.

     Tears were streaming down her face as the team of doctors and nurses continued working on Chris. They were slowing down. The fourth attempt to revive Chris failed and she saw the doctors glance at each other. She wanted to scream at them, "Don't give up on him yet!" but her lips wouldn't move. She stood frozen in the doorway. He couldn't be gone, she would feel it. Chris just lay there, his eyes open, not moving. She turned away, unable to continue watching.

     Don't make this decision lightly, Chris. I taught you that the easy way is not always the right way," Rose chided her impulsive grandson.

     "What do you mean? Don't you want me to stay with you?" he cried, still vulnerable after the brief glimpses of his past. "I thought you loved me?" Chris accused, his voice wavering slightly.

     "I do love you, boy. But you're not seeing the whole picture yet. What about Rita and my great grandchild?"

     "Rita?" The name sounded familiar and there was a tug in the vicinity of his heart, but he just couldn't remember anything.

     "Look..." Rose said as she waved a hand in the direction from which he had traveled.

     Chris saw himself as a young vice detective at the Palm Beach Police Department. A beautiful brunette walked into the station house and his partner, Lem, gave him a shove. "Go get her, tiger," he teased. "You said you were going to ask her out. Now is your chance."

     "Piece of cake," he boasted, more confidently than he actually felt. Walking over to join her at the coffee pot, he tried to think of an opening line.

     Chris watched his younger self in fascination. He groaned as the cocky young detective tried everything he could think of to pick up his attractive co-worker. Something tugged at his memory the first time she turned around and he noticed her beautiful green eyes. She was definitely a class act as she firmly, but gently, put him in his place.

     Looking back at his grandmother he was full of questions. Before he was able to voice any of them, she answered his thoughts with another wave of her hand.

     The scene had changed again. It was a few years later and he was seated in a chair in front of Captain Hutchinson's desk. The beautiful brunette was in the chair next to him and the skipper was explaining about the unique homicide detail that he was putting together. As he gave them their new assignments, he explained that the two of them were now a team. Chris looked over at his friend and new partner. They had become friends over the last few years and he was looking forward to working with her now.

     "Well," Hutchinson barked at them, "What's the hold up? You've got your new assignments. Get your stuff from downstairs and get moved into your new desks, pronto! We've got serious business to take care of here in homicide." He dismissed them and they quickly got up and headed out the office door.

     "What do you think, Sam?" Rita asked, smiling. They stood together in the homicide department looking at their new desks, which faced each other.

     "I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship, Sam," Chris teased, thrilled with the turn of events. Suddenly serious, he looked down at the woman he had come to trust and respect over the past few years. "I can't think of anyone I would rather be partnered with."

     "Same here," she replied, grinning up at him.

     "Sam?" Chris questioned in confusion as the mist returned. Deep inside he acknowledged the strong sense of friendship that he felt for this woman. There were also deeper feelings that he couldn't quite understand yet. Turning once again to his grandmother, he begged for answers. "Why did we call each other Sam?"

     "That was Rita, Chris. Sam was your affectionate nickname for each other. She was your soul mate even back then. You just hadn't realized it yet. She's been there to take care of you when I couldn't. I was so glad when you finally found each other. Being best friends first has made your relationship stronger than most.

     "Where is she now?" he queried, somehow knowing Rita was still important to him.

     New Roman">"Don't be impatient, boy." She gave him the same look she used to when he was a young energetic boy trying to rush his not so young grandmother out to the ballpark to watch his game. "There is still more to be seen so you can understand the importance of your decision.

     "Should we call it?" one of the doctors suggested as he noted the time.

     "Let's go, one more try," Dr. Thompson called out quickly. "Give me 360!" They prepared the paddles again, turning up the machine to the requested setting one more time. "Clear!"

     Chris turned back to the mist, knowing it was the only way to get the answers he sought. He watched himself as he paced up and down a hospital corridor. He recognized Captain Lipschitz and another detective by the name of Derek. He didn't know how he knew this, he just did. The memories were returning slowly, but he knew that he was there because Rita had been hurt. The fear was just as real to him now, as it had been on that awful day. He was nervous and scared by the time she walked out of the examining room. He saw himself rush over to her, his concern for her uppermost in his mind. He felt an intense wave of relief wash over him as the couple hugged. Leading her over to a chair, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He watched her carefully as the Captain brought her water for her pain pills, and they questioned her about that night's events. The desire to get her out of there and all to himself propelled him into action. He insisted on driving her home, and after sitting up together for a while, he spent the rest of the night on her couch as she slept in her bed upstairs.

     Rita's apartment faded and turned into a hospital room. Chris stared in confusion. What was he doing in a hospital bed? He was hooked up to an assortment of machines, and Rita was curled up in a chair across the room. Slowly awakening, he was still groggy as he hoarsely called out to his sleeping partner, "Rita?"

     Chris carefully observed the couple and he noted the mixture of relief and happiness in Rita's expression. She stood up slowly, stiff from too many nights spent in a chair and went to sit on the bed next to him. Carefully taking one of his hands in hers, she leaned over to kiss him on the forehead and continued to stay close, smiling at him.

     "Hi," she whispered, the relief evident in her voice.

     "Hi," he answered back quietly, smiling at the tender look in her eyes.

     "If you ever do that to me again, I will kill you," she reprimanded him as he noticed her exhausted and disheveled appearance.

     "Sam, you look like hell," he offered, a teasing note creeping into his raspy voice.

     "Well, three nights in a chair will do that to you," she explained, still holding on to him tightly with one hand. The other hand gently touched his face as if she still couldn't quite believe that he was finally awake. "I would hug you but I don't want to pull out the IV."

     "Three nights? Have I been out all that time?" he asked quietly, unable to remember anything that had happened after the shooting.

     "Yeah, kinda. The drugs had you even goofier than usual." They continued to stare at each other for a few moments. Rita's remark was never explained as Chris' doctor walked into the room.

     It was obvious to the silent observers that these two people were in love with each other. Not surprisingly, an older, wiser Chris was shocked to see himself making a pass at his attractive female doctor while the woman he was obviously in love with was still sitting right next to him. What had he been thinking of? And why hadn't he seen what was right in front of him all that time. Turning to his grandmother, his confusion was reflected on his face. He was getting used to the fact that she seemed to read his thoughts before he had a chance to form the questions.

     "It wasn't time yet, Christopher," she gently explained. "The two of you had to learn to trust again. Only then could you open your hearts to each other on a deeper level." Rose sensed his confusion and she tried to explain more fully.

     "You both had difficult childhoods, continually let down by events and the people most important to you. This was all part of what formed you into the people that you are today. Rita's early childhood was just as lonely as yours. She became afraid, like you, of the type of commitment needed for a lasting relationship. Fortunately, God was always there, watching out for each of you. He sent you to me when you were still young enough to have hope, and He sent Rita to the Lances. They took a silent, lonely child and gave her security, laughter and love."

     Rose lovingly watched Chris struggle with this information. He had always been such a sensitive boy. In the old days he would try to hide behind his sense of humor. Many people didn't realize the depth of the feelings that were hiding behind his carefree, joking exterior. She knew Rita did, and that was just one of the reasons why these two were meant to be together. Only someone who understood a painful childhood could fully comprehend the needs and cravings for love that never went away. Her daughter's selfishness had left permanent marks on her beautiful grandson. One consoling thought was that someday Anna would be here at the tunnel and she would be forced to take responsibility for her actions. Hopefully, Rose would have the opportunity to greet her at this same entrance. That was one performance by the great Anna Alexis that she wouldn't want to miss.

     Chris had to know more. His thoughts of Rita stirred up hints of memory that were just beyond his reach. What had become of their relationship? Were they still friends? Deep down he knew that she was still important to him. He could feel her imprint on his soul. Looking back at his smiling grandmother, he knew she was waiting for him to ask.

     "Where is she now?" he asked anxiously.

     Rita moved away from the open doorway. She kept her face turned to the wall, unable to watch the love of her life slip away right in front of her. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. It was happening too fast. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and she rocked herself back and forth, a lone figure set apart from the frantic activity just a few feet away.

     She heard footsteps and she opened her eyes to see one of the doctors emerging from the room. She felt like she was going to be sick and the desire to run away was strong.

     "Mrs. Lorenzo," Dr. Thompson called out to her.....

     Rose was thrilled to see that her grandson was finally beginning to understand. She had loved him from the day he was born and one of the highlights of her life had been when he had finally come to live with her. She had been waiting for the day when she could get him away from his jet setting parents and into a loving, stable environment. His bright spirit and loving nature had done as much for her as her love and stability had done for him. Even in the after life, she would never forget the way he had stayed by her side while cancer had slowly destroyed her earthly body.

     What the ancient poets had said was true. Each man or woman passed through the tunnel on their own. There was only one thing that a person could take with them to the afterlife. And that was the love. The love remained with you, never to be forgotten. If Christopher chose to make that journey now, memories of his love for Rita and their life together, would remain with him for all eternity. As much as she'd love to have him with her now, Rose wanted him to experience as full a life on earth as possible. It was a precious gift from God that should never be wasted. Living involved pain, but when your life included the type of love that her Christopher shared with Rita, it was worth it. She hoped to be able to make him realize that now.

     "Are you sure you want to see everything, Christopher? It might make you change your mind. Are you prepared for that?"

     "I have to know. I'm not sure why, but I know it's important. I have to know that she's all right." Chris was practically begging now. He knew there was something, waiting just out of reach, that he was supposed to remember. Something very important. He couldn't go through the tunnel until he remembered it.

     Rose smiled and looked at her grandson with love and pride. "Okay, boy. Pay attention now because our time here is nearly over. This will be your last opportunity," she cautioned him gently. He had the same look on his face that he used to have when he had first come to live with her as a young boy. It had taken almost a year before he was secure enough to ask when he desperately wanted something. He had become too accustomed to his parent's indifference. "Whatever you decide, Christopher, always remember that I love you and I will always be here for you. God speed," she whispered as she waved toward the mist one final time.

     Chris didn't have time to question her words as the changing mist drew his attention. He was transfixed by the couple that appeared in front of him.

     "What is it?" Rita questioned from her position on the couch. She opened the jeweler's box to reveal a gold pin in the shape of an angel with wings. A diamond twinkled up at her.

     "He's your guardian angel," Chris replied affectionately, watching her expression closely.

     Rita looked up from the box, her eyes letting him know how touched she was. "I thought that was you," she whispered as she continued watching him.

     "It never hurts to have a back up." Chris walked over to the couch as she pulled the pin out of the box. "You keep him close to your heart," he instructed softly.

     "I do," she murmured, moving her legs so Chris could sit down next to her.

     Chris took the angel out of her hands and pinned it to her vest. Smoothing the material back down with gentle hands, he paused to look into her eyes.

     They smiled at each other and Rita scooted around so her back was to him and he could encircle her with his arms. Resting his chin on her shoulder, they talked for a while and comforted each other.

     Chris hadn't moved a muscle as he watched them. His heart was full of remembered feelings. There had been nothing more important to him at that moment, than to be there for Rita and take care of her. Despite the fact that she insisted she could take care of herself. He remembered being at peace just holding her in his arms.

     "Mrs. Lorenzo," the doctor repeated. "Please sit down." He led her to a chair in the hallway and sat down next to her.

     "Chris? Is he..." was all she could manage. She was having trouble catching her breath.

     "He's still with us, Mrs. Lorenzo. We managed to get his heart started again, but I have to be honest with you, he still has a very difficult road ahead of him. His heart is weaker after this last crisis and if he goes into cardiac arrest again, there is a real possibility that we won't be able to revive him. We've done all we can, medically, for him at this time. It's up to him now. His body is struggling to keep going. The longer he hangs in there and the sooner he regains consciousness, the better his chances are."

     "Can I see him now?" she asked, desperate to see for herself that he was still alive.

     "Give the nurse just a minute to finish up in there. I want you to try and calm down a little, too. You have to take care of yourself. Take a moment to relax. The crisis is over for the time being and we're monitoring your husband closely."

     "What are his chances, Dr. Thompson?" she couldn't stop herself from asking.

     "It's not impossible for a patient in his condition to recover, but right now, the odds are not in his favor. Your husband has been through a major trauma and a lot depends on whether or not his body still has enough strength left to start the recovery process. You need to understand that there is a real chance that he may not regain consciousness again." He had to be brutally honest with her now. "You need to prepare yourself, just in case. I know it's difficult, but take this time now to talk to your husband. Say what needs to be said, even if it's goodbye. Do this for yourself and for him." They talked quietly for a few more minutes and by the time the nurse left Chris' room she had pulled herself together.

     Rita entered the room slowly with dry eyes. She was beyond tears now as she walked over to the side of the hospital bed. The only sounds came from the life support equipment. Chris would hate it in here if he were awake. He'd be laughing and telling jokes or complaining about the food. If only she could hear his laugh just one more time.

     Rita waited for the pain and loss to hit her. She knew it would be crippling and she braced herself for it as she watched his chest rise and fall. Where was it? She knew it would be more than she could handle. Nothing in her life had ever prepared her for this. This was more than one person could possibly endure. One hand held on to Chris, unwilling to let him go yet. She desperately searched for that place within herself where she had been able to numb herself to tragedies in the past.

     Her eyes darted around the room, not knowing what they were looking for. She unconsciously rubbed her stomach as she felt the baby move. Where was the pain? This was the worst moment of her entire life and she felt nothing. She was lost and alone. Looking down at Chris, it was hard to believe that he was slipping away from her.

     "I'm so sorry," she whispered to him. Still holding his hand, she bent over him to lay her cheek against his. "I never should have let you get this close to me. I love you so much and I thought this time it would be different." Rita gently placed a kiss on his lips before straightening up. The baby started doing his tumbling routine and a small smile appeared on her face. "I hope he's just like you, Chris. With your smile and your crazy sense of humor."

     Rita reached over to touch his face, her fingers molding it as if to memorize every precious feature. How would she ever be able to say goodbye? How could she ever go on without those blue eyes twinkling at her as they laughed at a shared joke? "I need to see them one more time," she whispered to him, thinking back to the look of desire that always made her melt into his arms. It was like losing a part of herself. "I wish I knew why this was happening, Chris. If I had known that I would lose you, too, I would have found a way to resist that Lorenzo charm. You shouldn't have to pay for my bad luck. Every time I let someone get close to me, I lose them."

     Chris wanted to keep watching the scene in Rita's apartment but he couldn't stop the mist. Now, he could see the couple as they sat on a bench at the beach. It was a cool, windy evening and they were deep in conversation.

     "So, I guess Jillian was right. I don't want to go because I don't want to leave you," Chris confessed as he straddled the bench nestled under the tall palm trees.

     "Well, I wouldn't want to leave you either, but that can't be the only reason that you're not going to go. It's not like we're married, or in love, or a family, or something like that," Rita countered, wanting to make sure he knew what he was giving up.

     "No, we're not. I think we're a lot closer than that," he insisted.

     Rita smiled at him and reached over to gently touch his chin before replying, "That makes sense too."

     "Yeah?" Chris grinned back at her. In his heart he knew he could never leave her by choice. They were so close, he was convinced she was a part of him.

     "Yeah," she agreed.

     Once again, he wrapped his arms around his best friend and they laced their fingers together as they sat and watched the daylight fade to night. Wherever he was, he would always feel at home if he was holding her in his arms.

     Chris was caught up in emotions that were confusing but familiar. He was remembering the suppressed physical desires and the yearnings to deepen his relationship with Rita. Wanting to question his grandmother, he turned around and panicked when he didn't see her at first. Looking further into the light, he spotted her halfway into the tunnel. He started to call out to her but once again the mist drew his attention as it revealed him passionately kissing Rita in the kitchen of her apartment.

     He relived the desire racing through his body and the knowledge that this was what he had waited his whole life for. He remembered the guilt he felt and how he had thought to stop their lovemaking before Rita wrapped her legs around him. Passion took over as they made their way over to the couch. Suddenly, it was as if all the locked doors in his mind were being thrown open, one by one. Memories of love came rushing back to him. It was his love for Rita that had prompted his calling a halt to their lovemaking that night. He also remembered the desperate need to know that she returned his love.

     The scene changed quickly and he could actually feel his heart skip a beat as he watched Rita sitting on his lap with her hands framing his face. As he looked into the face of true love, all the memories came flooding back. Everything. This was what he would be leaving behind. Despite all the pain and disappointments, his life had been worth living. Whatever had happened in his childhood was over. Rita needed him now and together they would make sure their child never had to suffer the disappointments that they had.

     Their child! He smiled, remembering the day that Rita had told him they were pregnant. Fear had taken a back seat to the joy and excitement he had felt. Memories of their wedding and their commitment to each other returned also. They were married and Rita was pregnant with their child! How could he have forgotten? He had to get back to her. He couldn't leave her to go through this alone. Chris groaned as he recalled his promise to Rita. He had promised to always be there for her and the baby. Panic was starting to set in as he thought about how close he had come to breaking that promise.

     He couldn't enter the tunnel yet. He would have to take the chance that when his time came again he would be able to return here and make that journey into the light. Right now, he was needed by Rita. He knew that he could accept both the joy and sadness that were a part of being alive. Life was worth the risk. Rita was worth even more.

     His decision made, Chris' attention turned back to the couple in front of him but they had disappeared. Instead of the mist returning, there was only darkness. What was happening? He turned around quickly to ask but the tunnel was no longer there. Neither was his grandmother.

     "Grandma Rose," he called out to her in the darkness. He doubled over in surprise as pain hit him full force. He couldn't catch his breath and he fell to his knees. His chest hurt like hell and before long he toppled on to the ground. As he lay there in agony, his last thoughts were of Rita before he blacked out.

     Harry drove up to the emergency room entrance of the hospital and slammed on the brakes. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself as he stepped out of the car. He was almost afraid to go back inside the hospital. It just hurt too much. Montoya was dead and even though justice had been served, it couldn't change what was going on in intensive care right now. Dispatch had been instructed to keep him updated, but there had been no good news to report. He walked into the hospital just in time to see his wife arguing with the admittance clerk.

     "Listen, young lady, I am the closest family Mrs. Lorenzo has right now, and she needs me. I have been through one catastrophe after another today, and it has taken me hours to finally get here. So, I don't care what your instructions are, you'd better tell me what room Chris Lorenzo is in or I'm going to start making a scene that they'll be talking about for weeks around here!" Frannie threatened. She was frustrated and frantic but as tenacious as a bulldog. Chris was upstairs somewhere, in critical condition, and Rita was by his side, probably all alone. She couldn't even imagine what Rita must be going through. And in her condition! She had to get to them and this little pin head was not going to stop her.

     "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but I've been instructed not to give out any information regarding Sgt. Lorenzo," the harried woman repeated for the fourth time.

     "Oh, for the love of...."

     "Frannie!" Harry called out as he rushed over to her.

     "Heschy, thank God! I've been trying for fifteen minutes to get to the kids, and I can't even get past the front desk." Her words were muffled against Harry's chest as he pulled her into a fierce hug. She rubbed his back, trying to soothe him. "How is Chris? Have you heard anything yet?"

     Harry just held her tight for a moment as they stood in the lobby. His voice broke as he whispered over the top of her head, "It's bad, honey. Real bad. I'm not sure he's gonna make it."

     "No, Heschy, please. Don't say that. It can't be true." She pulled back a little and saw the truth in her husband's eyes. "Not Chris....Oh, God, we have to get to Rita. She can't go through this alone."

     Harry nodded, unable to say any more. He took his wife's arm and led her to the elevators. The ride up was silent as they held on to each other. The doors opened to reveal Dr. Thompson walking away from Chris' room, towards them.

     "What's happening?" Harry questioned immediately.

     "I'm afraid he's taken a turn for the worse," the doctor explained. "His heart stopped and we were able to revive him, but his body has sustained quite a bit of damage from the bullets." The doctor paused for a moment as Frannie turned her face away. She placed a hand over her mouth to stop the sobs from escaping. Nothing could stop the tears as she turned to hide her face on Harry's chest. Harry nodded at him, silently requesting him to continue as he held Frannie tight.

     "We've done all we can but I'm afraid the chances of reviving him again, if his heart should stop, are not very good. I informed his wife a few hours ago and also suggested that she might want to consider using this time to talk to him, to say goodbye if she needs to."

     "Was that necessary, Doctor?" Harry asked, upset at what Rita must be going through.

     "I'm sorry, Captain. Believe me, we're not giving up on Sgt. Lorenzo, but when a patient is in his condition we need to help the family with the reality of what could happen. Saying goodbye is an important step in the grieving process. I suggest that you and your wife consider doing this also. I just finished checking on him again, and there hasn't been any change. His wife is in there with him now." The doctor placed a comforting hand on Harry's arm before continuing on his way. As a policeman, Harry had delivered his share of bad news in the past. It had never been this close to home before.

     "We'd better go in and check on Rita," he murmured to his distraught wife. He handed her his handkerchief so she could dry her eyes.

     "I'm ready." Frannie tried to sound more composed than she felt as she walked with Harry to the open doorway.

     Rita was leaning over Chris, whispering to him. They looked at each other and were going to wait in the hallway until Frannie noticed Rita's face. The pain and sorrow she saw there were too much for her to watch. Frannie left Harry's side to rush over to her.

     "Oh, honey, I'm sorry it took me so long to get here," she whispered as Rita turned to her. They clung to each other for a moment, Rita desperately needing Frannie's mothering right now. As they pulled apart, Frannie got a good look at Chris for the first time. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth again and she turned to Rita with eyes that were shiny. She moved over to the bed to stand next to Rita. Harry stood behind her, holding on to her shoulders.

     Leaning over the bed, Frannie placed a kiss on Chris' forehead before pushing a stray lock of hair back. Remembering back to another time when Chris had been shot, she could recall feeling as if one of her own children had been hurt. Like today, the three of them had kept a constant vigil at his bedside for three terrible days as he lay unconscious. She had wanted to push aside his real mother when she finally arrived at the hospital. What a prima donna. That woman would never realize how precious a gift her son was. He was a wonderful young man despite his parents.

     Looking back she realized that she had gone a little overboard with the chicken soup and herbal remedies, but the shooting had brought out a fierce maternal love for Chris and Rita that she hadn't recognized before. She had never felt this way with any of the other young detectives that had worked under Harry's command. The four of them shared a special bond and now Rita and Chris had become part of their family. It seemed like destiny when the two of them had finally realized the depth of their love for each other. Everything had been so wonderful these past few months. Now, it all just seemed so unfair.

     As a former nurse she knew that hearing was the last sense to go with any critically ill patient. There was always the chance that he could hear them now and if the doctor was correct about the limited time they had left, she knew she had to speak to Chris.

     Gently rubbing his arm, Frannie leaned over the rail and spoke from her heart.

     "Christopher, I don't care what the doctor says, I'm not ready to give up on you yet. You know Harry and I are always here for you and Rita. Please try to get well. We all love you so much. You're the son we were never blessed with and we already think of this baby as our first grandchild. Rita needs you, Christopher. Please try for her. Try to come back to us." Frannie felt Harry's hands tighten on her arms. She could sense his anguish and knew he would never be the same if he lost Chris.

     Rita kissed Frannie on the cheek before walking over to the other side of the bed and taking hold of Chris' hand. George Donovan quietly slipped into the room. He walked over to the bed to give Rita a hug. After kissing Frannie hello, he shook hands with Harry and they exchanged silent messages. His inquiring look was met with a sad look from Harry as he gently shook his head back and forth. George walked back to the other side of the bed and stood next to Rita. Placing a hand on Chris' arm he completed the circle of faith.

     Rita looked around at the faces of her friends. Harry and Frannie were on one side of Chris, she and George were on the other. This feeling was new to her. Squeezing Chris' hand, it occurred to Rita that she was actually pretty lucky. She had all the family she would ever need right here in Chris' room. Whatever happened from here on, their child would not be alone. He would never have to go through the loneliness and insecurity that she had. This extended family around her today would make sure that Chris' child always knew he was loved.

     Frannie turned to Harry, indicating that he should say something to Chris. Harry placed a hand gently on Chris' shoulder. His voice shook with emotion and he drew strength from Frannie's arm around him.

     "Okay, Lorenzo!" His hoarse command held only a small fraction of it's usual spirit. "Did I authorize this time off?" he teased. Unable to keep up the pretense, the expression on his face crumbled and he leaned over to whisper to Chris.

     "Listen, son," he whispered urgently as he watched Rita turn her face into George's jacket. George kept an arm around her, trying to comfort her.

     "Frannie's right," Harry continued, "We're not ready to let you go yet. I know you're a fighter. You were never afraid to fight me for what you felt was right, and I've always admired that. But this is the most important battle of your life." Harry leaned closer, trying to get through to Chris. "I know how much you love Rita. I know what it's like to love someone so much that you would do anything to protect them. And you did protect your family today, at a great cost to yourself. I am so proud of you. I wish you were my son." Harry looked away for a moment. His eyes met Frannie's and she gave him the encouragement he needed to go on.

     "Don't give up now, Chris. I have faith that you will do everything you can to get back to Rita. Even the gates of heaven would need a hell of a padlock to keep you away from her. She's here waiting for you. And if you can't come back, I'll know it's not because you didn't try. We'll take care of her for you. We'll all take care of her and the baby. Frannie and I love you, Chris. Always remember that."

     Shaken, Harry turned to Frannie. She placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him. He was such a good man, and she had never been prouder of him. Turning to Rita and George, she nodded towards the doorway.

     "George, why don't you and Harry go pick us up some coffee," she suggested. "Try and find a healthy snack for Rita while you're out there."

     Both men took off immediately, glad to have something to do to help.

     Rita looked at Frannie across the bed. "I don't think I can eat anything, Fran."

     "Yes you can, honey, and you will," she insisted. "The baby needs you to eat, and you've been under too much stress." Her tone indicated she would accept no arguments. A commotion out in the hall drew her attention and she used it as an excuse to give Rita a few minutes alone with Chris.

     Pain. Pure, simple, pain.

     And darkness.

     Voices, like ghosts from the past, could be heard whispering in the blackness.

     "I can't drop everything I'm doing...."

     "Christopher, Mother won't be back until tomorrow. Be a good boy for Maria."

     "I'm sorry I can't make it to your game, son. I have a big case coming up and...."

     "Boy, come over and give your Grandma Rose a hug. You're staying with me now."

     "Chris Lorenzo, huh? You have quite a reputation around here. I'm Rita Lee Lance."

     "You gotta get your work clothes on. We've got a silk stalking by the sea."

     "Ooh! That sounds romantic!"

     "You two escaped by the narrowest of margins. IA is gonna drop the charges against you. But if you and Rita ever pull a black bag job again, you're gone!"

     "He's a regular Slammin' Sammy Snead. Come on, Sam. I think I hear our cart idling."

     "In many of the most important ways, you're my best friend."

     "I never had a better friend in my life."

     "You know that I love you."

     "I lived through the worst thing that could ever happen to me. I thought I'd lost you."

     "She is so much a part of your life that there just isn't enough left over for anyone else. Somewhere along the line, you fell in love with her!"

     "I love you, Chris. I think I've always loved you."

     "From the minute I met you, I just knew. I just knew."

     "I love you, Chris."

     "We're pregnant, Cap."

     "I love you, Chris....."

     "Whatever you decide, Christopher, always remember that I love you and I will always be here for you. God speed....."

     Chris tried to focus on the whispers to take his mind off of the pain but it didn't work. The pressure on his chest was getting worse. When another spasm hit he tried to raise his hand to his chest to massage the sore muscles. Instead of his chest he landed on another more delicate hand.

     As the door closed behind Frannie, Rita wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and smiled. She had forgotten about the fussing and bossing that went along with having family.

     "They're all true characters, Chris, and I love every one of them." She set her free hand gently on his chest as she leaned over and placed her cheek against his. "But most of all, I love you, Sam."

     She never saw his hand move as it reached over and landed on hers. She froze where she was, afraid that she had fallen asleep and was dreaming. Her cheek was still against his and she felt his breath against her skin as a moan escaped.

     Pulling back so she could look at his face, she couldn't see any change. Could she have imagined the moan? Her eyes flew to his chest as his fingers tightened around hers.

     "Chris, can you hear me?" she begged him, leaning down to kiss him on the side of the mouth. Rita pressed the nurse's call button and let them know what had happened. She heard them page the doctor immediately over the loud speaker. "Chris, squeeze my hand again," she instructed, excited by this first ray of hope. She looked up as the door opened and Cotton stuck his head in the room.

     "Cotton, quick!" she yelled at the surprised con man, "Get Captain Lipschitz back in here. Tell him Chris moved."

     "Yes, Ma'am!" he replied, turning to back out of the room quickly. He had just arrived, having heard the terrible news on the street about his good buddy Chris. He had tried to rush over but Beauty was acting up again. Talking Donnie "Dogs" DiBarto into giving him a ride had been easy. Donnie was very worried about the young couple. He liked to think of Rita as a special friend and despite a rocky start, he had grown fond of Chris over the years also. Donnie was down at the end of the hallway now, talking to the Captain and making sure that the parties responsible for this had been 'taken care of.'

     The Captain looked up in fear as he heard the doctor being paged "stat" to Chris' room. Frannie walked over to him just as Cotton called out.

     "Captain Lipschitz!" he tried to deliver the message.

     "Not now, Mr. Dunn," Harry brushed him aside, pulling Frannie with him towards the room.

     "Harry, what's the matter," Donnie asked, concerned at the panicked look on Harry's face.

     "Captain Lipschitz!" Cotton tried again, but Harry didn't even turn around. Giving up, he looked at George Donovan who stared back at him with a questioning look.

     "Chris moved, Rita wants the Captain in there. Maybe he'll listen to you," he said shrugging his shoulders.

     George went into action immediately. "Harry!" he yelled loudly down the hallway. He saw Harry look up and he threw him a thumbs up signal. "Chris moved! Rita wants you in there with her."

     Harry's face lit up with a smile and he turned to hug and kiss his wife. "Come on, Frannie. Let's go in and see our boy." With their arms around each other, they entered the room to see Rita sitting on the bed next to Chris. They could hear Donnie, George and Cotton talking excitedly in the hallway to Diana who had just arrived from Fort Lauderdale to be with Rita.

     "Cap, come here. Watch this," Rita called out. She leaned over to whisper to Chris as Harry and Frannie approached the bed. They watched in awe as Rita picked up his left hand and Chris' fingers tightened slowly around hers. Rita turned to them with a radiant smile. "I know he can hear me, Cap. He's fighting, I can feel it."

     "I knew it, Rita. I knew he wouldn't go without a fight." Harry hugged her and patted Chris' arm. "Come on, son," he took Chris' other hand and urged him on. "Who's gonna teach this new kid of yours all your terrible jokes?" He let a small laugh slip out as he felt a weak returning squeeze from Chris. He watched Chris' eyelids flutter in an attempt to open.

     The door to the room opened and Dr. Thompson walked in with another man. The noise level in the hall was rising and Rita could hear Solange's distinctive voice join in all the commotion.

     The doctor motioned for Harry to join him across the room.

     "Captain Lipschitz, this is John Carter, the hospital director. He needs your help. And if you two will excuse me, I need to see my patient." Dr. Thompson walked quickly over to the bed. Rita relayed the exciting news to him as he examined Chris.

     "Captain Lipschitz?" The director tried to get Harry's attention, but Harry was watching the doctor work. Dr. Thompson instructed Rita to encourage Chris to move his arm, and Harry flinched as Chris moaned, clearly in serious pain.

     "Captain Lipschitz! Please, I need to talk to you," the director tried again, and Harry finally turned back to acknowledge him.

     "I'm sorry, Mr. Carter," he apologized, still keeping one eye on the other side of the room. "What can I help you with?"

     "I'm sorry to bother you, Captain, but I have a real problem downstairs and you're the only one that can help."

     Harry looked straight at the director, annoyed at this interruption. "What exactly are you talking about, Mr. Carter? I'm a little busy here and I'd like to get a chance to talk to the doctor before he finishes."

     "Captain, let me give it to you straight. There are at least a hundred uniformed and plain clothes policemen in the downstairs lobby and parking lot. I can't even begin to count the number of friends, concerned citizens and members of the press that are crowding in there also. More are arriving as we speak. I think they're coming here instead of going home after work! There is even a group of about thirty teenage boys from the youth center sitting on their cars in that same parking lot. To top it off, the crowd in the hallway outside this room has been growing for the last hour to unacceptable, not to mention illegal, numbers. I do believe I even saw a small dog out there somewhere." The director frowned as he watched a grin appear on Harry's face. The grin widened as Harry continued to listen.

     "We don't have the personnel to handle this type of a crowd, Captain," his tone took on a begging quality. "They refuse to leave. Believe me, we asked. What can I do? I can't call the police, they're here already. Will you please go downstairs and talk to them?"

     "Yes, Mr. Carter," Harry assured the flustered man, "As soon as I get a chance to talk to the doctor, I'll hopefully be able to pass on some good news."

     "Please try to get them to go home, Captain. We can't run our hospital under these conditions. I thought Sgt. Lorenzo was just a homicide detective."

     "Sgt. Lorenzo, is much, much more than a homicide detective, Mr. Carter. One look at your lobby should convince you of that. Chris Lorenzo and his wife are two very special people that have touched a lot of lives here in Palm Beach over the years. And now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to find out how he's doing."

     "Thank you, Captain." The director started to leave but turned back as he remembered another message he needed to relay. "Oh, and Captain," he called out, "Our switchboard has been receiving some strange phone calls from a woman claiming to be Sgt. Lorenzo's mother."

     "Strange in what way, Mr. Carter?"

     "Well, as you know, we've been instructed to refer all calls to the Palm Beach PD. We suggested this woman call the PD but she wouldn't be put off. She tried to get past the operators by claiming to be Anna Alexis. You know, the famous movie actress." He chuckled at the absurdity of it all.

     Harry shook his head slowly as he made his way to the bed. As the director reached for the door handle, Harry called out to him. "Anna Alexis is Chris' mother, Mr. Carter. You might want to put that call through next time."

     John Carter's mouth fell open, but Harry never noticed. Dr. Thompson was talking to Frannie and Rita and he went over to join them. Rita was still sitting on the bed, smiling up at Dr. Thompson as she listened to him. She absently rubbed Chris' hand. Frannie was busy putting her two cents in, and neither one of them noticed that Chris' eyes were half opened and he was silently watching them.

     Harry smiled as Chris' gaze met his. Harry shrugged his shoulders as he nodded toward their women. He could see the pain and exhaustion on Chris' face as his eyes closed again, but he swore he saw that mouth curve into the barest hint of a smile. For the first time in twelve hours, Harry knew everything would eventually be okay.

     "Frannie, come on, we're out of here," he ordered as he took hold of his wife's arm.

     "Heschy, what's wrong?" she fretted as he guided her to the hospital room door.

     "Cap, where are you going?" Rita called out as she watched them walk away. Where was he taking Frannie in such a hurry?

     "Most of the department is downstairs waiting for word on Chris, Rita. I've got to let them know how he's doing. Doctor? Will you join us? I'm sure they'd feel better if the news came from you."

     "Certainly, Captain. I'd be happy to." He turned back to Rita. "Mrs. Lorenzo, like I said, this is a real positive sign. Your husband was definitely responding to your voice and his vital signs are steadily improving. The quicker he regains consciousness, the better. I think he's very close to that point now. I'm going to increase the dosage of pain medication so we can make him more comfortable. If there's any further change tonight, the nurses will page me. Otherwise, I'll be back first thing in the morning." Wishing her a good night he left with the Captain and his wife.

     Rita sat down in the chair next to the bed. It was still early in the evening, but today had been the longest day of her life. Chris was in a deep sleep again. His efforts had tired him out and he wasn't responding any longer. She was exhausted but grateful to have hope again. Folding her arms on the bed, she rested her head on top of them before closing her eyes. A five minute nap wouldn't hurt anything. She wanted to be rested if Chris needed her. The steady beeping of the heart monitor lulled her to sleep.

     Chris opened his eyes slowly. Each breath was still painful, but it was manageable. Pain meant that he was alive. His eyes scanned the room until he found what he was looking for. His treasure.

     Unable to resist, he concentrated on moving his left hand to reach for her. Rita was in a chair asleep with her head resting on the bed next to him. The need to touch her and make sure she was real, overwhelmed him. Running his hand hesitantly over her hair, he was careful not to wake her. She looked pale and exhausted. He said a silent prayer of thanks that she had escaped the incident with Montoya unharmed. He let his fingers pass gently over her lips before dropping back down to the bed.

     Chris reluctantly dragged his eyes off of Rita as the hospital room door opened. He watched a nurse walk in, smiling as she noticed he was awake.

     "Welcome back, Sergeant," she whispered nodding towards Rita. "We tried to get your wife to let us bring a cot in here for her but she refused to leave your side. She's going to be very stiff when she wakes up."

     "How long have I been out," his raspy voice was barely audible as he questioned her. The nurse checked his temperature and blood pressure, being careful not to disturb Rita.

     "It's nearly four in the morning now, Sergeant. You were brought in yesterday, just after two, for surgery, so you've been out for about twelve hours." Checking his IV, she paused to glance at Rita. "Your wife has been right here the whole time. She's an amazing woman, Sgt. Lorenzo. But I'm sure you already know that."

     "Yes, I do," he agreed with a hoarse whisper.

     "Can I get you anything before I go?" she asked him as she finished up.

     "Water," he rasped. The nurse helped him take a few small swallows and the cool liquid eased his scratchy throat. His next attempt to talk came out much clearer.

     Chris had to concentrate hard to form the question he wanted to ask. "Was my Captain here?" he finally managed. He could remember Cap's presence by his side but he wasn't sure if it had been a dream. Harry had been trying to tell him something important. Urging him to do something.

     "Oh yes, Sergeant. He's still out there, asleep in the hallway. We had quite a show here last night," she chuckled.

     Chris looked at her with confusion and she tried to explain. "Well, all I know is that when I came on duty at eight, your Captain was downstairs in the lobby announcing that you had regained consciousness for a few minutes, and he was trying to get everyone to go home."

     Chris was still confused. "Who?...." was the only word that would come out, but the nurse seemed to understand what he was trying to ask.

     "Rumor has it that over half the Palm Beach Police Department was in our lobby last night. They said it was really something. A sea of blue and tweed they called it. Short of alerting the National Guard, the staff didn't know how to get rid of them." Trying to keep up with her story, Chris listened in amazement as she continued.

     "And then, there was this group of kids from the local youth center in the parking lot, sitting on their cars. Drove the security guards nuts. But what could they do, they were out numbered! After Captain Lipschitz gave them the good news, the guards were finally able to clear the lot." Patting Chris' arm, she turned to leave. "You have quite an interesting group of friends, Sergeant," she teased.

     He managed a small smile before he haltingly replied, "I'm a very lucky man."

     Chris tried to absorb all this information. What he had just said was true, he was a very lucky man. He had been blessed with so much and a good portion of it was due to this woman at his side. She always brought out the best in him and made him strive to be more. Her mere presence in his life elevated him.

     He couldn't resist touching her again. He ran his knuckles across her cheek and smiled as she made little noises in her sleep. Her face turned and sought out his hand, kissing his palm as he cupped her face.

     "Rita," Chris whispered, watching her closely.

     "Hmmmmm......" Rita felt like she had only been asleep for a few minutes. She tried to find a more comfortable position but her body ached all over. Lifting her head up, she looked into two clear blue eyes that were watching her intently.

     "Rita," he repeated tenderly as she continued to stare. His body was still too exhausted to allow him to talk much, so he mouthed the words she never thought he would be able to say to her again, "I love you."

     "Chris," she murmured, her eyes pooling with tears, "you're back."

     Chris flashed her a weak version of the famous Lorenzo smile.

     "Don't cry, Sam." His scratchy whisper tried to comfort her. He caught a falling tear with his thumb. "Come here," he requested softly, keeping his hand on her as she stood up and then sat herself on the bed. Carefully avoiding all the hoses and wires attached to him, Rita managed to lie down next to him without hurting him. Her face was on the pillow right next to his and she reached over to touch his face and arms, reassuring herself that he was awake.

     "I was really scared this time, Chris," she confessed quietly, her voice still wobbly. "I almost lost you again, and this time it was much, much worse."

     "I know, Sam, and I'm sorry," he apologized, the anguish in her voice momentarily pushing aside all thoughts of his own pain and discomfort.

     "Chris, I'm not blaming you! You saved me, and the baby. And we almost lost you because of it. The whole day was a nightmare, Chris. I can't bear the thought of ever losing you again. I love you so much."

     "I love you too, Rita," Chris replied in a husky voice, his own eyes shiny from unshed tears. He was tiring out quickly, but he needed to let her know that he understood. "We have some decisions we need to make before I get out of here."

     "Get some rest now, Chris," she urged him, not wanting him to push himself too much. "We'll talk in the morning." Leaning over to kiss his lips, she held on to him carefully and closed her eyes. Chris placed on hand on her rounded stomach, and he took a moment to just watch her breath before closing his own eyes. Within minutes, they were both asleep again.

     "Heschy, wake up," Frannie nudged her sleeping husband. "Harry," she called out a little louder, "It's morning." Shaking him gently, she was finally able to get him to open his eyes.

     "Frannie, what time is it?" he questioned, standing up and stretching.

     "It's only seven o'clock, honey. I just got here and I thought you'd want to check on Chris early. Has Rita been out to see you this morning yet?" Harry shook his head as he quickly walked over to Chris' room.

     "Morning, Fran. What's Harry up to?" George Donovan asked as he strolled up the hallway.

     "He's just checking on Chris, George," Frannie smiled at him as she noticed the bag of bagels in his hand.

     "Any news?" Diana asked, arriving with a tray of steaming coffee cups. "What's the Captain doing?"

     "He's checking on Chris," George relayed as they all watched Harry's head disappear through the doorway.

     "Frannie!" Harry's head was still inside the room as he called out softly, his arm motioning her to join him. "Come and see this."

     Frannie joined Harry in the open doorway and closed her eyes for a moment. "Thank you, God," she whispered. She didn't even need to look because the strangest thing had happened to her last night. With Harry on watch here at the hospital, she had been a little nervous sleeping at home alone. Combined with her worries about Chris and Rita, she had a difficult time falling asleep. Finally nodding off close to midnight, she was soon in the middle of a beautiful dream. In it, an elderly, white-haired woman had appeared. The tiny woman had been dressed all in white, and a bright, peaceful light surrounded her.

     The angel-like woman brought with her a calm reassurance and a comforting spirit. She never uttered a word, but love radiated from her, and Frannie sensed her message. Everything would be okay. As the dream ended, the woman smiled a hauntingly familiar smile before disappearing into the ever brightening glow. Frannie awoke refreshed and with energy to spare. This morning she had arrived at the hospital with a renewed sense of hope and faith that this was just the beginning for Chris and Rita. Opening her eyes, a peek into their room confirmed it.

     The growing crowd of friends joined them in the doorway. Cotton and Solange strolled up at the same time and fought for position, trying to get the best view of the couple inside.

     Chris was still asleep on the hospital bed and Rita was sound asleep on her side next to him. Facing Chris, with her head resting near his shoulder, their hands were clearly intertwined as they rested on her stomach. They were both covered by a blanket brought in by a nurse in the early morning hours.

     Awakened by the chorus of "ah's" and "how cute" Chris opened his eyes to an amazing sight. His eyes widened as he watched Cotton and Solange try and out maneuver each other. They all started waving at him and he couldn't help smiling as Harry and Fran led the small procession into the room. Everyone was shushing each other, trying to avoid waking Rita but she opened her eyes as the group approached.

     "Rita," Chris whispered, still smiling, "we have company." Frannie's steps faltered a little as she watched his gentle smile.

     Rita tried to sit up and straighten her hair but Chris held on to her. Not wanting to make him struggle, she gave up quickly and snuggled against him, yawning.

     "Cap," Chris managed to call out to his good friend and mentor. Chris was unable to say the words that would let him know how good it was to see him. His eyes did the speaking for him, and he held out a hand to Harry.

     "Christopher!" Harry's voice shook as he went quickly to Chris, taking hold of his hand as Frannie leaned over to kiss him. Harry held on to Chris a few seconds longer, "Glad to have you back with us, son." A smile was plastered on his face as he finally let go of Chris so everyone else could say hello. George rushed over with Diana and Cotton right behind him.

     Chaos reigned and the noise level escalated until finally the day nurse threw open the door and looked at the small crowd in amazement.

     "People, people, people, Sgt. Lorenzo needs his rest. He still has serious injuries that need attention. This is a hospital not a clubhouse and we only allow family at this time of day. You're all going to have to leave."

     Chris yawned, tired already as he looked at the falling faces around him. What wonderful, caring people their friends were. Someday he would have to tell them all the story about his Grandmother and the tunnel, but for now he would just let them know that he cared.

     Glancing at the nurse, he sent her a tired smile before looking to Rita for assistance. It was too exhausting to try and continue speaking so he whispered to Rita as she leaned a little closer to him.

     Rita looked at Chris in surprise. How did he already know what she had just come to realize yesterday, in her darkest hour?

     Smiling radiantly, she turned back to the nurse. What my husband is trying to say," she paused a moment and gestured at the group around the bed, "is that, we're all family here." Rita smiled at each of their friends in turn. "Definitely, all family."

     A cheer went up and the nurse backed out of the room after warning them to keep the noise level down. Rita sat up as coffee and bagels were passed all around. Still keeping a watchful eye on Chris, she visited quietly with their friends. Chris fell asleep within minutes, his body just beginning the long road to recovery.

THE END

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