to go to the surgical waiting room on the second floor? It’s more private, less intense than the ER waiting room. I’ll come see you there. Agent Savich?” She squeezed his arm. “Are you with me?”
Dr. Loomis knew he was scared senseless and would stay scared until she was willing to swear on a stack of Bibles his wife would recover. Sometimes even that wasn’t enough. She would be scared to death, too, if it were her husband or her daughter lying there.
“I want to see her, a moment only. I—I need to see her.”
Dr. Loomis stepped aside. “Only a moment, they’re ready for her in CT.”
Sherlock’s eyes were closed. She lay perfectly still on a steel-framed gurney, most of her clothes cut off, the two nurses and the doctor surrounding her. So many bruises, cuts, and abrasions, as if she’d been thrown every which way. One of the nurses was speaking low to her, holding her hand as she pressed a strip of gauze over the cut on her temple. He swallowed when he saw all the blood—her hair was soaked with blood, it was black with blood.
The other nurse moved aside at a nod from the doctor and Savich stepped in to lean over her. He lightly kissed her cheek, tasted her blood. He wanted to weep. “Sherlock? Sweetheart? Can you hear me?”
She opened her eyes and stared up at him, her eyes vague, not quite focused on his face. “Are you here to tell me you’ve got to cut me open now?”
“No cutting for you. You’re awake and that’s good. They’re going to take excellent care of you. You were in an accident, but you’ll be all right.”
“An accident,” she whispered. “What happened?”
“I don’t know yet, but your Volvo saved your life. Doesn’t matter, your next car’s going to be a Sherman tank.”
“We really need to take her now, Agent Savich, it’s important,” Dr. Loomis said from behind him.
He leaned down, kissed her again, and straightened. She was simply staring up at him, her mouth opening. He lightly laid his finger over her lips. “No, don’t talk. You can tell me everything later. I swear, you’ll be all right.”
She looked up at the blurred face above her. All the people hovering around were wearing white, so much white. She didn’t understand why, but in that moment, it didn’t seem to matter. “Stay with me,” she whispered, and closed her eyes again.
Savich held Sherlock’s hand as he walked beside the gurney out of the ER down a long hallway. She squeezed his hand once and his heart stuttered. He couldn’t stand seeing the smear of blood on her cheek, the blood matted in her hair beside the pressure bandage they’d placed on her head. No, she would be fine, her breathing was slow and steady. They pushed through another door, down another hallway, and through a door marked COMPUTED TOMOGRAPHY.
“Time to leave her with us, Agent Savich,” Dr. Loomis said at the doorway. “I promise I’ll come speak to you as soon as I can.” She paused, then said, “Try not to worry, all right?”
He leaned down, lightly cupped Sherlock’s face, kissed her mouth, and straightened. They wheeled her in and the door closed in his face. Savich stood staring at the door, aware of low voices, machines beeping, people hurrying past him. It seemed no one walked in this place, and for that he was grateful. He stood in front of the door, unable to move. He realized there was nothing he could do, and he hated it, hated feeling helpless. Slowly, Savich walked up the stairs past two nurses talking about a patient who’d thrown a bedpan at an orderly, to the second floor surgical waiting room. It was empty. Well, who would want to operate at nearly seven o’clock in the evening? Only for emergencies, like Sherlock. He had to stop it, there was no talk of surgery. Not yet.
It had been only a matter of months since Savich had spent time in that waiting room. Nothing had changed. It was small and square, its walls painted a light green, with three eye-level Monet water lily reproductions, lamps on side tables, and year-old magazines stacked neatly on a coffee table. A new Keurig machine held the place of honor on a table in the corner, pods of coffee and tea piled in a basket. He sat down, immediately jumped back up, and began to pace. He stopped, took a deep breath. He had to get