The first number he tried was Bo’s cell phone, but it went straight to voice mail, which told him it wasn’t turned on. The next number was Jesse’s.
“I’m on my way back,” he said. “How’s Bo?”
“She’s good. She’d lost enough blood she had to have a transfusion, but unless there’s a fever or something, she can go home in the morning.” Jesse sounded tired. “It’s been a shit-storm around here today. How are things on your end?”
“We didn’t get all the loose ends tied up, but we’re working on it. You don’t have to keep the lid on any longer. I’ll read you in on the details when I get there.” Better not say too much on a cell phone, which was about as private as an open door in a motel room.
“Got it. Are you coming by for Tricks?”
“You have her?”
“She’s here at the police station with me. I’m still working on the paperwork. I hate paperwork,” Jesse growled. “And there’s a shitload of it.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Uh huh. How far out are you?”
“Just got started. About three hours.”
“I’ll probably still be here.”
Relieved about Bo’s condition but needing to hear her voice anyway, Morgan ended that call and tried Bo again. Got voice mail again. He figured she was asleep, aided by some happy juice. He remembered too well how that went. But he’d rather she sleep than be in pain, so he settled in for a fast, hard drive, pushing to get back to her.
He made it in under three hours; he wheeled by the police station and saw the lights were still on, so he whipped into the rear parking lot and went in. Jesse looked up when he entered, leaned back in his chair, and yawned. “I finished just a few minutes ago.”
Tricks had been snoozing on her bed, but she woke and lifted her head. When she saw Morgan, she shot over to him, her tail wagging madly as she greeted him with a wiggling body and licking tongue. He went down on one knee and rubbed her ears, stroked her thick fur. “It’s been a long day for you too, hasn’t it, girl? Want to go home?” He shot a glance at Jesse. “Via the hospital. What room is she in?”
“308.”
“Is it one of those hospitals with strict visiting hours?”
“No, people pretty much come and go as they want. Relatives sit up with their sick folks, things like that.”
He stayed long enough to give Jesse a quick rundown of events and fill him in on what was going on. “Shit, that isn’t good,” Jesse said, after finding out that Congresswoman Kingsley might be untouchable. “If she sold out the country once, she’ll do it again.”
“If she were in any position to do it, but she won’t be. She’ll have a hard time now going to the bathroom without someone watching her. She might not be in prison, but she won’t be free.”
He had to be content with that too. It was a tough pill to swallow, but he’d let Axel do what Axel did.
He thought about taking Tricks home first, but the need to see Bo, see her for himself, was riding him hard. The night temps were cool enough that he could leave Tricks in the Tahoe with the windows down a bit and let her snooze while he paid a fast visit. He walked her around first, then she happily bounded into the Tahoe and settled down. He didn’t have her seat harness with him so he drove carefully, even though traffic was almost nonexistent.
He hadn’t been to the hospital before, but he programmed the GPS and followed the directions. Half an hour later, he pulled into the hospital parking lot and found an empty slot under a light. There was a surprising number of cars there, given that the hospital wasn’t particularly large even by small-town standards, so Jesse was likely right on target about people staying with their relatives.
He lowered the windows down an inch or so, letting the cool night air seep in. He said, “I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes. You don’t let anyone in, okay?’
Tricks woofed softly. It wasn’t until he was inside the hospital, taking the interior stairs two at a time, that he realized he’d been talking to her as if she were human and understood every word he’d said. He gave a mental shrug. He’d bet on Tricks understanding more than some humans he’d met.
He exited on the third floor, checked which way the room numbers were running, and strode to room 308. The nurses’ desk was down the hall, a small center of activity, but he didn’t have to go that far down. There was no point in knocking, not if Bo’d been given happy juice, so he simply pushed the lever-style handle and went in.
The room wasn’t completely dark, for the convenience of the nurse who would be coming in during the night to check on her. The head of the bed was raised a little, and Bo was turned slightly on her left side, her legs curled and her left hand tucked under her cheek. A big, thick bandage covered her neck and part of her right shoulder, but from what he could see in the dim light, her color looked good. An IV needle was in the back of her right hand. He checked the bags hanging from the rolling stand: an antibiotic and standard saline solution for hydration. Anything she was getting for pain was in the form of an injection or a pill.
“Hey.”
The word startled him. Her voice was low and sleepy, a little slurred. Swiftly he turned to see her half-smiling at him, her eyelids barely cracked enough for her to see him.
“Hey,” he said softly, rubbing the back of one finger against her cheek. “I hear you’re getting sprung from this place in a few hours.”
“So they say, as long as I don’t have a fever. I’m hoping all these antibiotics they’re pouring into me do the job.”