was not really his fault. Still, his hand shook slightly as he finished his signature.
"Why don't you take a seat in the waiting room, Mr. Brewer? I'll have someone see to your abrasions."
"Can't I see her now?"
"The doctor will call you shortly."
"But I--"
"Please, take a seat."
The only seat to be taken was the armchair across from the cop and the nurse, so Nicholas ambled in that direction slowly, hoping another would vacate. He stopped to get a drink at the water fountain, to read the Emergency Room Rules and Policy posted on the wall, and to sort through a stack of tattered magazines. Just as he was about to sit down, a nurse appeared with a first aid tray.
"Mr. Brewer?"
"Yes?"
"If you'll come with me, please."
He followed her to a small treatment room and for the next ten minutes, she cleaned and medicated his injuries. He did not realize until he winced from the sting of the medicine how extensive they were. His left temple and cheekbone were thoroughly scuffed and abraded along with the knuckles of his right hand and the palm of his left.
"You're limping. Should a doctor have a look at your leg?"
"It's an old limp," Nicholas assured her and thanked her for her care.
Before returning to the waiting room, he stopped at the restroom and got a first look at himself. His face was not only skinned and tinted red with antiseptic down the whole left side but a bruise colored the corner of his eye. It was no wonder that Tom and Judy and the doctor jumped to the conclusions they had.
The clerk had promised him Trissa was in the best of hands. Maybe now would be the time to leave. But, he shrugged, what would be the point? They had his address and his place of employment, and his signed and dated confession that he had brought Trissa to this hospital. Unless he was willing to run and keep running until he was well out of town, he might just as well stay here and see how everything turned out.
Maybe, just maybe it would all turn out right this time. How could it get any worse?
Before he had the chance to consider that question, Nicholas hurried out of the restroom. He had to see Trissa. If they wouldn't tell him where she was, he would just have to go looking for her. He had found her before, hadn't he? And she really had needed him, hadn't she?
"Mr. Brewer, I've been looking for you." Dr. Edmonds was leaning against the wall outside the restroom, like a cat waiting at a mouse hole. "We should go somewhere and talk."
Nicholas felt himself crumbling, and he braced himself with one hand on the doorframe. He had difficulty summoning the breath to speak. "My God, is she--"
"She'll be all right. We will keep her overnight for observation, though. Most likely by morning, she can go home. And that's what we need to talk about."
"Can't I see her first?"
"She's sleeping. Follow me."
Nicholas considered balking but was too uncertain of his standing to do so. There was something in Edmonds' voice and posture that made him doubt the wisdom of questioning his authority. And he could not forget that policeman. He followed him to a lounge at the end of the hall.
"Take a seat. Coffee?"
"Yes. Black."
Edmonds brought two steaming paper cups and took a long, leisurely drink of his own. Nicholas had the uncomfortable feeling of being the mouse to his cat again. Edmonds studied him through horn-rimmed lenses that gave his dark eyes a sharp intensity. Nicholas felt he intended to see him squirm before he deigned to speak, but he was determined not to give him that satisfaction.
"What is it you have to say to me? I would very much like to be spending my time with my wife."
"Is that so? And where might she be?"
"You know better than I."
"Do I? I didn't believe your story when you walked in here and I have even less reason now. That girl is not your wife, is she?"
Nicholas did not answer but met Edmonds' accusing gaze without wavering.
"You know what I believe, Brewer? I believe you tried to rape that girl. And when she resisted you beat her and you beat her good. The only reason you're not under arrest right now is because she denies it. And because she won't give me her name so I can call her family to take her home."
"She--" The word escaped before he was able