Work Text:
Frankie signed the papers, sighed and turned around. This place was like a war zone. Well, what else was to be expected on a Saturday night in the New York Methodist Hospital emergency room? And it was a full moon. She wondered how many hours she would have to wait for treatment and wished she had more battery on her phone or had brought something to read. She looked for somewhere to sit and saw a free seat next to a young looking cop, sitting with her head in her hands. She wasn’t in uniform, but she had her badge on display. She watched as she ran a hand through her hair, puffing out an exasperated breath.
“This seat taken?”
The cop looked up, dark circles under her eyes and gave a faint smile. “No, go ahead.”
“Rough night?”
“Yeah, a colleague got shot. I need to wait for his wife to get here. She’s trying to get a sitter.”
“That is rough.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s not gonna let a bullet stop him.”
Frankie let out a small chuckle. “Yeah I know some people like that.”
The cop smiled before frowning as she noticed the blood from Frankie’s head wound that had soaked the shoulder of her t-shirt. “What happened to you then?”
“Long story.”
“I got time. Take your mind of the pain? Take my mind off gunshot wounds?”
“Sure. Why not. Uh...” Frankie eyes the cop’s badge.
“Hey, pretend I’m not a cop. I’m off duty anyway.”
“All right.” Frankie slouched into a more comfortable position, grimacing slightly as the pain in her ribs flared up. “So I’m a bounty hunter by trade-”
“Huh.” She clearly wasn't expecting that.
“Yeah, down in Florida. But recently I’ve been getting some, uh, private contracts on the side.”
Raised eyebrows.
“I know it sounds a bit...”
“Sketchy.” There was definitely a sceptical tone there.
“Yeah, but it’s not really. It’s still catching bad guys. I still get paid.”
“And who pays you?”
“Well, to tell the truth I’m... I’m not one hundred percent sure. They’ve stayed kind of anonymous. But I’m okay with that. You guys end up with a perp in custody and I get money in the bank. It’s win-win.” Frankie shrugged, forgetting her injury and groaning as she felt the pain in her ribs again.
“Yeah, sure looks it.”
“Look, there’s an element of... physical risk in my official job so I’m prepared for it. I accept it. I can afford to take enough time off to heal – soak up some sun back in Jacksonville - and then get back to it.”
“Ok, you seem convinced, I’ll give you that. But I’m intrigued as to why you would get into a job like this in the first place.”
“Oh that’s an even longer story.”
“I did say, we do have the time.”
“Okay." Frankie bit her lip. "You know, I’m not really used to talking about myself.”
“Think of it as free therapy.”
“Yeah I could probably use some of that." Frankie laughed.
She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.
"So I grew up pretty poor, parents’ struggled to hold down jobs. I worked hard at school so I got a scholarship to the University of Florida, studying Criminology and Law. In Gainsville. So I could stay at home. When I graduated I needed something that would earn me money quickly."
Frankie sighed, as if preparing herself for something.
"My Mom and Dad’s health – and cash flow - were pretty bad – my brother had an entry level accounting job, earning buttons, and he had loans to pay off so he couldn’t help. I knew someone who worked at ASC-“
“The bail surety firm?”
“Yeah, it was really lucky for me, because of my degree and my kickboxing experience they sponsored me through my pre-licensing course and my bail bond agent exam and then they gave me work. So I was earning pretty good money within a year.”
“That’s some good fortune.”
“Yeah well I had to have it somewhere." Frankie began fiddling with the zipper on her leather jacket.
"You see, my Mom died shortly after I got my first big paycheck – at least she lived to see me do that – and my Dad, well he couldn’t live without my Mom and more or less gave up after that. He died six months later.”
“I’m sorry.” She said it softly, like she knew what that kind of loss felt like.
“Thanks. They were good people. So it was just me and my brother. He was a good person too.”
“Was?”
“Yeah. He got himself in trouble when he asked the wrong questions about some books at a casino. He was murdered. I almost got myself killed trying to bring the guy who did it in. With a bit of help I got him. Things have been a bit different since. That’s when I started taking some of the private work. It takes me all over. Not got much left to hold me down in Florida.”
“Jeez it sounds like you’ve really had a rough ride.”
“You could say that.”
“So how did this job end up with your head looking like that? And the broken ribs. And the bust hand.”
“Oh yeah, guess we got a bit sidetracked there.”
Frankie shifted in her seat again, trying to stave off the numbness in her backside, wincing in pain once more.
“So I got information that a guy involved in smuggling was involved in some other kind of trouble.”
“That sounds vague.”
“Yeah I don’t get much information upfront. Have to use my detective skills.”
“Oh really.”
“Well, I have a few years of skip tracing behind me. It’s not a million miles away from detective work.”
“Ok, I’ll give you that.”
“So, I track him down to a warehouse in Brooklyn - seems like he was operating out of there – and when I, um, let myself in-”
“Had they left a door unlocked?”
“Yeah, that’s it, an unlocked door.” Frankie smirked. “I found a room with a locked door, but I could hear someone inside so I broke open the door. I wasn’t expecting to be ambushed by an elderly Polynesian woman who had managed to work some pipe free from the wall.”
“So you got beat up by someone you were trying to rescue.”
“Pretty much. I did eventually manage to calm her down and explain I was there to help. We waited for the guy to appear and when he did I let her hit him with the pipe and then I cuffed him and used a burner phone to dial 999.”
“Well I guess all's well that ends well. I mean, I’m glad they’re safe and we’ve got the perp and that you’re relatively unscathed.”
“Well I have had worse. Just as well I have good insurance.”
“You know that was not a long story at all.”
“Well I did say I’m not used to doing all the talking. It was long enough for me!”
As they both chuckled, a figure in scrubs and a lab coat appeared before them before addressing the young cop.
“You’re with Detective Anderson?”
She stood up. “Yeah. You have news?”
“I’m Dr Lewis. Yes, he’s through the worst. He’s being taken to surgery now but all being well we expect him to make a good recovery.”
She noticeably relaxed as she took in the doctor’s words. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The ER doctor smiled before turning and leaving to return to her work.
Heaving a sigh of relief, the cop turned around to face Frankie. “I better go call his wife and let her know.”
“Sure. Hey, I’m Frankie, by the way. Frankie Wells.”
“Well, it was a pleasure Frankie Wells.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a card and handed it to Frankie. “If you ever need any help – officially or unofficially – give me a call.”
“Thanks,“ Frankie glanced down at the card, “Detective Silva.”
Silva replied, “Dani, please.”
“You know I’ve only met three cops in New York and in terms of good guys I’m three for three, so far.”
“Oh really, who else do you know?”
“Detectives Fusco and Riley.”
“You’re kidding me.” Silva looked incredulous.
“Nope.”
“Well you definitely need to call me next time you’re in the city. Those boys....”
“Yeah, they’re something.”
"Something else!"
They both laughed. Dani began to motion with her phone, ready to head outside to make her call, when a nurse called Frankie’s name out.
Dani held out her hand to help Frankie up. Frankie gladly accepted and waved her injured hand at the nurse to show she had heard her name.
“I’ll do that then. Next time I’m here, I’ll call.”
Dani smiled. “Next time.” She shook Frankie's hand in agreement and they both walked away through the chaos of the ER.