Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,7
room area. Hardwood floors were covered with a worn and tattered area rug, and an afghan and some throw pillows were on the couch. The side table held a lamp and on it sat three paperback books. Not much in the way of art, except for a watercolor of Lake Erie and the shoreline view of Cleveland hung on one wall. Not too many personal items, and other than the worn winter boots lying near the couch, the place was very neat, but lived in.
She moved past the kitchen. On the floor were two plastic bowls, presumably the dog’s dishes. Both were empty. On the table was an open bag of kibble and a box of dog treats. An empty cough syrup bottle, a few dirty dishes and an empty can of chicken noodle soup sat on the counter. The remnants of the soup and a spoon in the pot on the stove.
“Paula?” Brianna called out hurrying to where the dog had disappeared down the hall, now believing her friend might be ill.
Inside the bedroom, a body-wracking cough, followed by a moan came from the bed, where the dog stood near the lump of covers, wagging its tail and barking.
“Hush, Stanley,” a hoarse voice said.
“Paula?” Brianna said, stepping closer, but the dog seemed to be standing guard.
“Stanley, come,” Aaron ordered the dog from behind her.
Surprisingly, Stanley hopped off the bed and went to Aaron, who gave him one of the dog biscuits he must’ve picked up in the kitchen. “Sit,” he said, and Stanley did just that, being rewarded with another biscuit.
“He…likes…you,” Paula said, coming out of the bundle of blankets on her bed then coughing hard enough to shake the whole thing. Her face was pale except for the red-flushed cheeks and the deep circles under her eyes. “Hi, Boss.”
“Oh, my God, Paula, you look horrible,” Brianna said rushing over to the bed.
“Feel pretty…crappy, too.” Paula covered her mouth with the part of her blanket as she coughed again, the reached for a tissue in the box near the bed to spit out whatever she’d coughed up.
“How long have you been like this?” Brianna laid her hand on her friend’s head. “You’re burning up.”
“Funny…feel…like…I’m…freezing,” Paula managed between wheezes.
“She needs to go to the hospital,” Aaron said, coming forward to examine some of the discarded tissues.
“No…hospitals,” Paula said again, this time her wracking cough was back.
Brianna gave him a questioning look. “Maybe just a clinic?”
Aaron handed Paula a clean tissue. “By the wheezing and the looks of what you’re coughing up, you probably have pneumonia.” He turned to Brianna, “Get her some shoes and her coat and we’ll take her to the Cleveland Clinic.”
“No!” Paula said, struggling to stand up, and collapsing back on the bed, her dark eyes wide with fear. “Not there.”
“Is that where your ex worked?” Brianna remembering the one conversation they’d had about the bastard who beat her. Paula had told her the ex who’d pimped her out, had a day job as an orderly at one of the local hospitals. Said that’s why she didn’t like them.
Paula nodded, shivering now that she was out of the blankets.
“Okay, we won’t take you there.” Brianna pulled a quilt off the bed and wrapped it around her friend and looked pointedly at Aaron as she said, “How about St. Vincent’s Charity hospital? Would that be okay?”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me, she just needs to get treated ASAP. Pneumonia is nothing to mess with. It can kill you.”
The deep and certain way he said it and how he insisted Paula needed to be seen immediately struck Brianna as more than just a worried concern on his part. Aaron’s lost someone to pneumonia. This wasn’t the place or time to ask, so she focused on helping Paula get her shoes and jacket on. When she finished, she turned to find Aaron standing in the doorway holding a woman’s leather handbag in one hand and a leash attached to Stanley in the other.
“He…really…does…like…you. He…won’t…listen to…me,” Paula whispered as she tried to stand, then sank to her knees, with Brianna holding her.
Before Brianna could help her friend back in the bed, Aaron gently pushed her aside and scooped up the thin young woman in his arms as if she were no more than a child. “I think Stanley just knows when he’s near the alpha dog.”
Paula giggled.
“Or it could be those dog biscuits you stuffed in your pocket,” Brianna said, snagging the dog’s leash and Paula’s purse.