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"Your grandchildren are okay; they are waiting for you at Legacy Hospital. I'm afraid Janet was life-flighted there about twenty minutes ago." Watching the woman carefully, Teagan was there to catch her when her knees buckled underneath her.
"Life-flighted?"
"I'll let the doctors give you a report on her condition as I am unaware of the injuries she sustained."
"That bastard," Margaret said. "Where is he?"
"He's in custody," Teagan reassured her. A shrill scream came from Margaret's mouth. Teagan turned, following her gaze to see the bagged, bloodied baseball bat being put into the back of the crime scene van. The color had drained from Margaret's face.
"What did he do? What did he do?"
"Margaret, look at me." Teagan turned her. "I know this is hard, but your daughter and your grandbabies need you. They need you to be strong and love on them. They just witnessed an extreme trauma and are alone at the hospital with strangers. Can you do that? Can you be strong for them?"
Margaret nodded.
"Is there someone we can call? Your husband? To come get your car and meet you there?"
"My husband is at my oldest son's house working on building a deck. Can you call him?" Teagan quickly got the information from her before turning and waving another officer over to them. "Officer Jones will transport you to the hospital."
Waiting until the woman was in the cruiser, Teagan pulled out her phone. "Mr. White? Hello, my name is Detective Teagan Smith, and I am calling about your daughter." She hated these conversations. The father was calmer than the mother had been, resolved almost. Teagan couldn't help but feel that he had been waiting for a phone call like this for a long time. Hanging up the phone, Teagan returned to the scene of the crime. An hour later, after running through the event several times, speaking with the crime scene investigators and the neighborhood witnesses, Joey and Teagan were finally getting ready to leave the scene, when their boss showed up.
"Smith, Covington." Lieutenant Downy nodded in their direction.
"Boss," Covington greeted while Teagan raised her hand in a small wave.
"Terrible situation this morning," Downy said.
"Truly," Covington agreed.
"You okay over there, Smith?" Downy asked.
"Yes, I'm fine." Teagan bent down, noticing a blood splatter in the grass. "Fuck."
"What?" Both men quickly walked toward her. She was putting a fresh pair of gloves on and picking up the pacifier from the grass. The blood-soaked pacifier. "She was holding the baby when he attacked her."
"Was the baby injured?" Downy asked.
"No, when patrol got here, the baby was in his crib. Everyone assumed the fight started inside once he got home." Following the tiny droplets of blood into the house, Teagan closed her eyes, imagining what had happened based on the evidence. "She came inside, put the baby down, called the children into the nursery and shut the door." She paused, catching her breath.
"All the while being beaten. Then she walked into the den, here." Teagan pointed to the bloodied handprint on the wall. "This is where he grabbed the bat." She nodded to the empty space next to the ball and glove. "He beat their mother in front of them and then used the son's baseball bat as a weapon." The three of them looked at each other in silence. The silence was broken by Downy's cell phone ringing. He stepped to the side to answer it. Joey scrubbed his hand over his face, looking at Teagan.
"Days like today, I hate our job, Teagan," he said.
"I do so much to try to prevent this from happening," Teagan said. "I volunteer at least twenty hours a month in education and prevention. Why? I don't think I am making a bit of difference."
"Don't say that. Between sitting on domestic violence court, mentoring, teaching, and everything else you do, you're making a difference. Imagine how many women have left their abusers because of you and how many perpetrators have gotten help." Joey said.
"I have some bad news," Downy said, rejoining them. "This case is no longer ours. Homicide is taking over."
"When?" Joey asked.
"Five minutes ago. She died on the table," Downy said quietly.
"Dammit!" Teagan's frustrated, strangled cry filled the room. She bit her inner lip to keep from crying. It wasn't professional. She didn't know why she cared so much, why she always cared. The victim was a stranger, and yet it was as if Teagan had lost a friend.
"What is wrong with your eye?" Downy's random question had Teagan's hand going to her face.
"There was a struggle with the perpetrator," Joey supplied.
"Why wasn't he in cuffs when you got here?" Downy asked.
"That is a good question, boss." Joey replied, his frustration evident in his tone. It wasn't the first time in recent months when patrol had done a crap job securing a scene or a suspect. "They were questioning him next to the house, and he ran." The look on Downy's face was of pure disgust. Teagan knew someone would be getting an earful.
"Why don't you go home and take a shower?" Downy asked Teagan. "Grab some lunch, and then come back to the office. You can type your notes and meet with the homicide detectives."
"I'm okay." Teagan shook off the feeling of dread in her gut and put on her tough face.
"It wasn't a suggestion," Downy said, "and put some ice on that eye."
"Sure thing."
