Deceived - Laura S. Wharton Page 0,79
land, so news anchors scare everybody along the coast with guesses.
Sam watched for another two hours. Then he reached for the phone.
Hoops picked up on the first ring. “Sam-Man! How are you? Where are you?”
Sam was glad to hear a friendly voice on the other end. “Dosher. The doctor says I have to stay a little longer, but I’m ready to go now. What’s the word? I need to know everything. Did everyone get off the boat?”
“I don’t have that report, but I can get it. What’s your room number? I’ll call you back.”
Sam struggled to read the numbers on the phone’s handset. His head throbbed whenever he turned it, and trying to read made him dizzy. “I’m in room one-twenty-four. You’ll have to give me the short version when you find out. Thanks, Hoops. I owe—”
“Naw, Sam-Man. You don’t owe me anything. Just get well, hear?”
“Will do, Hoops; will do.”
Sam tried to get up to walk around, but catheters were stuck in places he couldn’t reach, and tubes jutted out from more than one place on his body. Defeated, Sam fell back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. By the time Shadow Nurse and a technician entered the room to proffer up more bags of medicine and fluids, Sam was asleep.
Chapter forty-six
Sam woke later that afternoon to sunlight flitting through the window’s shades. Within minutes, Dr. Henderson marched in with his entourage.
“Good afternoon, Mr. McClellan. Let’s take another look at that leg and get you on it again.”
A second technician, a male this time, entered the room with a pair of crutches for Sam to try. He adjusted them to fit Sam when he saw how tall Sam was.
“I want you to start slowly, get the feel of these things first,” Dr. Henderson explained. “No races, if you please. Your leg is going to take several weeks to heal, but you’ll need to start therapy so you don’t forget how to use it. Now, let’s get you out of bed. Exercise is important for you.”
Dr. Henderson’s entourage got to work removing tubes and the catheter. After twenty minutes of fussing with bandages, they left the room with various admonitions about going slowly and resting often. The nurse said if he were a good patient, Sam would be released that evening.
And that was all the encouragement Sam needed. Cautiously, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and propped himself up using the crutches. He struggled to arrange the scant hospital gown, then took his first tentative step.
At first, Sam did exactly as he was told, hobbling slowly around the room. Soon, he had the hang of using crutches, so he headed for the intensive care unit. He felt up for company. Sam hoped Chuck did too.
Dosher Hospital is a narrow two-story affair. Like its larger cousins, it shares an antiseptic smell, but it is easily navigated because of large signs and limited departments vying for a patient’s attention.
Sam found the intensive care unit. He tried his best to look casual as he hobbled the corridor of glassed rooms until he found Chuck, being attended to by a technician or a nurse; Sam couldn’t tell which. He waited for the technician to leave, then slipped in beside Chuck’s hospital bed. He eased himself into a small chair. Chuck had more wires attached to him than an old computer.
“Chuck, it’s me. Sam McClellan. Just checking on you, man.”
Cracking open a swollen, bruised eye, Chuck’s battered mouth twisted into what Sam guessed was a pained smile.
“Sam. You look like you should be in the hospital.”
“Yeah, I know.” At least Chuck still had a sense of humor. “Chuck, I need you to tell me what happened after you and Mike left the gallery.”
The slight smile left Chuck’s face. “Oh, that. Sam, I’m really tired now. Can this wait?”
“No, it can’t. I need to know exactly what went down. I’m guessing since you were beaten to a bloody pulp and left for dead, you weren’t part of the original plan.”
Chuck closed the one eye he could open. “I didn’t know anything about Lisa’s…involvements until you had your little visit with the chief. It was far more than I wanted to know.” Chuck sighed heavily. “I was raging. Mike caught sight of me and grabbed me by the arm. I blurted that I was going to the gallery to put a stop to Lisa’s messing around. I really thought that’s what it was all about.
“When we got there, you and your