"He's right," Bev agreed, returning with ice in a baggie. "Better to be safe than sorry."
Alex rolled her eyes as Cale took the bag, but then winced as he pressed it to the back of her head, sending pain radiating outward through her skull again. She bit her lip until it eased a bit, and then let her breath out on a sigh. "Fine. I'll stop at the hospital and have it checked out on my way home."
"I shall take you, and then deliver you home if the hospital says it's all right," Cale said firmly, and added, "We can call the police about the attack from there."
"Why?" Alex asked dryly. "The guy is long gone, and I didn't see who it was. I also don't particularly feel like filling out a stack of reports about some mugger they'll never catch."
"Was he mugging you?" Bev asked doubtfully. "It looked like he was trying to drag you behind the Dumpster. I thought it was a r**ist when I pulled up."
Cale glanced to her sharply. "Did you see his face?"
"No," the woman admitted apologetically. "It was dark and it all happened so fast." She shrugged, and then added, "But it could have been Peter."
"Peter?" Cale asked sharply.
"The head chef who quit," Alex said on a sigh. "I don't think he'd have done this though."
"I don't know," Bev said with a frown. "He was pretty upset the other day when you refused to hire him back. And he did say you'd be sorry."
Alex frowned at the suggestion.
"Come on." Cale caught her by the waist again and eased her off the counter to stand. "I want to have you checked out."
"I'll come too," Bev said, hurrying to her station to grab her glasses. The steam in the kitchen tended to fog them up on her, and she always took them off and set them on the shelf above her station before cooking.
"You don't have to come with us Bev," Alex said as Cale began to urge her toward the back door. "I'm sure I'm fine. You go on home and relax."
When Bev hesitated, Cale added, "I'll call after we've seen the doctor to let you know if everything is all right or not."
"All right then," Bev said reluctantly, and moved past them to open and hold the door for them to exit. She waited with them while Cale used Alex's keys to lock both doors, and then walked with them across the parking lot to where Bev's car still stood, engine running, lights on, and driver's side door open. She's lucky someone didn't drive off with it, Alex thought on a sigh.
"At least it will be warm," Bev muttered, as they stopped by the open door. She then paused, and said, "Please don't forget to call me. I'll be up all night worrying if you don't."
"I won't," Cale assured her solemnly. "Go on. We'll wait until you set off."
When Bev glanced to Alex, she caught her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you."
Bev smiled faintly. "And here it usually annoys you when I forget my glasses and come back."
"Never again," Alex assured her wryly.
"Yes it will, but that's okay," Bev said with a chuckle, and gave her a quick hug, then turned and slid into her car. They waited until she'd started her vehicle and set off, then Cale urged Alex to his rental car. She didn't bother arguing that she could drive herself to the hospital. Truthfully, her head ached so badly the idea of squinting against the lights of oncoming night traffic was an unpleasant one. She was grateful to leave the driving to Cale.
Cale paced the hall outside Alex's bedroom for the four hundred and fifty-third time, and then paused before the door and listened. This time rather than miserable sighs or restless rustling, he heard a steady, deep breathing that indicated sleep. He immediately reached for the doorknob and eased the door open just enough to peer in. She was definitely asleep. She lay curled on her side, her hair a mess about her face and her mouth open, a thin line of drool leaking from her mouth.
Cale smiled faintly, relieved to see that the lines of pain no longer carved her face. After arriving home, Alex had twice assured him she felt fine, and he needn't stay, but those pained lines had told him she was suffering. He eased the door closed again, and then headed downstairs, pulling his phone from his back pocket as he went.
By the time he turned into the kitchen on the main floor, he was punching in Bricker's number. Cale had called Bev before they'd left the hospital to let her know Alex was okay and he was taking her home. Alex had been standing beside him when he'd made that call; but this call was trickier, and he'd wanted to be sure she was sleeping and wouldn't overhear before making it.
"Yo, Cale," Bricker greeted, answering on the second ring. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Don't tell me you've decided to go ahead with my idea of sleeping in the van in front of Alex's house? If so, say the word and I'm on the way, Buddy."
"No I haven't changed my mind about that," Cale said grimly. "And please tell me that tonight was not some bright plan of yours to get Alex and me under the same roof."
"Tonight?" Bricker asked, sounding uncertain. "No, I don't think so. Why? What happened?"
"You didn't get one of your buddies to attack Alex so that she'd be concussed, and I'd have to stay here the night to watch over her?" Cale asked, not really thinking he had but wanting to be sure. Bricker seemed to have some wild ideas. He was young enough to forget how fragile mortals were. And while the thought had just been a passing idea of possible culprits behind the attack, once it had slid through his mind, he hadn't been able to shake it. However, Bricker's horrified gasp and true shock now were hard to feign, he decided as Bricker cursed volubly and quite prolifically over the phone.
"No! Of course I didn't have Alex attacked just soyou could get your groove on. Christ! What kind of man do you take me for? She's Sam's sister! Not to mention the best damned cook around! Jesus! She-Is she all right?" he interrupted himself to ask.