The nurse leads me down the hall. “Your husband’s quite the character.”
“Andrew’s not…” I open my mouth to correct her. But, what if only family members are allowed to visit him? I have to see him. He has to tell the police Chaser’s innocent. “…a fan of hospitals,” I finish.
“No one is.” Abruptly, she stops and peers inside a room. Two men in cheap suits are stuffed inside the small space, blocking my view of everything except two big feet sticking off the end of the bed.
“No,” Andrew insists. “I told you. I didn’t get a good look at the guy. He jacked my cash, shot me, and ran.” Something metal screeches against the floor. “Ow. Fuck. Get me out of here.”
“Mr. Lane.” The nurse leaves my side, rushing into the room. “Please, settle down.”
“Oh, hey. I don’t suppose you can give me a sponge bath?” Andrew asks in such a normal way, that if the two detectives weren’t still blocking my view, I bet I’d be able to see the flirty smile Andrew added to the request.
I roll my eyes toward the ceiling. Even recovering from a bullet wound, he’s ridiculous.
“Mr. Lane,” one of the detective snaps. “We’re not finished.”
“What more do you want from me?” His hand peeks out between the two detectives, fingers flicking toward the door. “Go catch the guy and let me heal. I have a show to do tonight.”
“That’s not going to happen, Mr. Lane,” the nurse says.
“Are you sure it was a stranger?” one of the cops insists. “What about Russell Adams? We heard he had plenty of reasons to shoot you.”
“Russ—Chaser? Fuck no. Why would you say that?”
Oh thank God.
“But you said you didn’t see the person who shot you,” the other detective persists.
“I said I didn’t get a good look. Never saw the guy before. Fuck, I’ve seen Chaser every day for the last three months. You think I don’t know what he looks like?”
“All right.” One of the detectives shifts and Andrew’s face comes into view. His eyes widen.
“Mallory!” He waves me into the room with frantic hand gestures. “Get me out of here.”
“Uh.” My gaze darts around the space, landing on the detectives, the nurse, and finally Andrew. He’s bandaged from waist to nipples and a few shades paler than normal, but otherwise intact. “Are you okay?”
“No. Someone shot me.”
I bite my lip to stop myself from the completely inappropriate laughter threatening to burst free.
“Did Chaser come with you?” Andrew peers around me. “Where is he?”
“He’s in jail.” I side-eye the detectives. “They arrested him for shooting you.”
“Who are you?” the crankier detective asks.
“Mallory Dove.” I nod to the nurse. “She brought me to see Andrew.” Why do I suddenly feel the need to explain myself under their scrutiny?
“Oh, shit, Mallory. I’m sorry.” Andrew glares at the detectives. “What the fuck are you bugging me for? Go let my friend out of jail, you dickwads.”
“We still need information from you, Mr. Lane.”
“Well, you’re not getting any until you let my friend out.” Obstinate as ever, he crosses his arms over his chest, then winces.
“I’m afraid I need everyone to leave,” the nurse says, pushing us toward the door.
“Mallory can stay,” Andrew protests.
I reach out and touch his arm. “I won’t go far, Andrew.”
His voice, begging me to stay, follows me down the hallway. Pay phone. Where are they when you need them?
Ah! Waiting room.
“What’s going on?” Jacob asks as I race by him.
“Give me a second.” I pull Mr. Paxton’s card and a handful of quarters from my purse.
“Is Andrew okay?” Alvin asks.
“Andrew is…Andrew,” I mutter. “Mr. Paxton, please!” I yelp as soon as his secretary answers the phone. “This is Mallory.”
“Mallory?” Mr. Paxton’s smooth voice comes over the line a few seconds later. “Is everything all right?”
“Andrew’s awake. He told the detectives Chaser didn’t do it.”
“That was fast,” he says. “Let me make some calls. Stay at the hospital. I’ll pick you up on my way to the station.”
“I’ll be right here waiting for you.” My voice trembles. “Will we get Chaser out today?”
“I’ll do my best.”
Honest, but not exactly the most reassuring answer.
Chaser
The loud clock on the wall across from my cell ticks my afternoon away.
Tonight’s show is out. Stupid thing to worry about when Andrew’s in the hospital. The whole tour is probably toast.
Hell, life as I know it might be over.
“Adams! You’re out!” the guard from earlier shouts.