Yes, I respond.

Its okay Detective Holtz. Tina is Bettes partner. I think she has a right to hear what happened. What DID happen?

Fine, Holtz relents gently. Why dont we go sit over here? His hand gestures toward the empty corner of the waiting room.

We approach the sunlit corner and sit facing each other. The anticipation of hearing what happened to Bette makes my mouth turn to cottonmy palms begin sweating.and my heart begins to pound. The reaction I experience, I find out, is for good reason as Father Andy, as he insists, tells the details of what he witnessed. They apprehended the man? Who is he? And why did he shoot Bette? Do you have a motive yet, Detective? The priest once again garnishes my attention with a simple question. My interest in the answer is heightened to know who this coward with a gun is.

From what Ive been able to figure out so far, it looks like he didnt like an exhibit the museum Ms. Porter directs is displaying.

Provocations, I say simply.

Thats right, Provocations, he agrees. I cant say I really like it either, but its not my place to criticize what some people see as art. I wont take my children there while that exhibit is on display. No offense to your partner, Ms. His words trail off as we both realize I never introduced myself.

Kennard, Tina Kennard, I tell him.

Is there a Ms. Kennard in here? A woman dressed in nursing scrubs enters the room and immediately asks for me.

Thats me, I say. Is Bette settled? Can I see her now?

Ms. Kennard, would you come with me please, shes pleasant with her request, but doesnt divulge any details.

I turn and thank Father Andy and Detective Holtz for their kindness and walk out with the woman. She walks me through the second set of double doors and past the nurses station in the middle of the large room. Along each wall are windows alternating with doors. Those must be the patient rooms. Which one is Bette in, I wonder. We halt at a rolling shelf filled with various linens and boxes. My escort removes some of the folded garments and hands them to me. You can put these on over your clothes. Then she reaches in a box and pulls shoe covers. These go over your shoes. And this is some antimicrobial rinse. Her last words are spoken as she hands me a tiny bottle of clear liquid.

Why do I need all this stuff, I ask her.

Because Ms. Porters injuries have weakened her entire bodyincluding her immune system. In order to ensure the best possible recovery we have to maintain as sterile an environment as we can. Her words both reassure and alarm me. What if she gets sick because of me? She must really be in bad shape to need these kinds of precautions. I slip each item over my clothing as directed them cover my shoes and move on to rinsing my hands as well as face with the liquid.

Ready? Her words send a shiver through my body. Im more scared than I have ever been in my life. I can merely nod my head in acknowledgement. Lets go. She leads me to a doorthe blinds are drawn closed and the lights are turned off. She opens the door and waves me in. Just be careful with the wires and tubes. Her final instructions dont do enough to prepare me for the site I lay my eyes on as I peak around the corner.

To Be Continued.

*This is fictitious. Although the LAPD takes great strides in policy to prevent and investigate hate crimes, I do not believe there is a central organized division assigned to investigate such matters.