Chapter Seventeen
Wednesday afternoon
I spread my arms and dip my head, and soar through the sky like Harry Potter playing quidditch. I tilt left to dodge a dragon shooting rancid breath in my face, but the creature is hot on my heels. I zip the other direction to avoid it and fly into the flailing arms of a giant squid. I strike a direct hit with my bludger but even so, its multiple arms slap my cheeks like whips.
“Joy…”
I circle up and again to the left, but it stays right with me, the slapping tentacles flogging my upper body. I swipe at it again. Well, I try but my arms become bound at my sides.
“Joy!”
How does the creature know my name?
The horn sounds to end the round. I let down my guard and head back to the sidelines. But the horn keeps blowing. Now it’s pulsating, growing louder and louder. I want to clap my hands to my ears but I still can’t move. The dragon is back. Its breath smells like garlic. Strange.
“Joy, for God sakes. Stay with me. Help is coming.”
Never heard that in quidditch.
The dragon-breath stops. Sweet, fresh air blows in my face. Then the dragon returns. This time the air smells like mint. There is whispering and something closes over my face and—
Thursday morning
The scent of mint is still here. And the dinging is back, but it sounds different now, sharper, more persistent. Something touches my wrist with a light sensation and I open my eyes to check which of the tentacles has gotten hold of me.
A blue-clad nurse leans back, dropping my wrist on the bed, so I guess that means I didn’t die. She moves to the front of the bed and makes a notation on a chart. To my right is Eddie. He’s leaned back in a chair, feet straight out and crossed at the ankle. His head is lolled to one side. His mouth is open and he’s snoring, his nostrils flaring wide and narrow. Eeuw. I can’t un-see this.
I look over and the nurse is smiling. Not sure whether at him or me. She comes to me again and holds a straw to my lips. The water is icy and refreshing. Just what this aching body needs.
As I wonder about my injuries, a man with a hairdo like Einstein, except it’s white, enters. He is dressed in jeans and a blue shirt. Seems like he’s a doctor in spite of the clothes. After all, he’s wearing the requisite white coat.
“I see our patient is awake.” This he says to the nurse, then approaches the bed, first glancing at Eddie who’s just let out a rip-roaring snore.
“This your dad?” he asks.
Heck no. “Uncertain police chief.”
An expression crosses the doc’s face and I know he wants to make a crack about all cops being uncertain, but instead he snatches a peek back at him and turns to me. “How are we feeling this morning?”
Do doctors learn to talk in the third person in med school? It’s probably time to make a wisecrack, but I can’t think of one that hasn’t been used a zillion times. My poor brain feels like it’s been on a blender’s high speed.
“What are my injuries?” I croak out.
“You have a grade three concussion, two cracked ribs, and some minor contusions. Only one required stitches; that’s on your right leg.”
“What is a grade three concussion exactly?”
“Severe. This is denoted by a loss of consciousness.” He leans a bit closer. “You did lose consciousness, didn’t you?”
“How can you decide my level of concussion when you don’t even know the answer to that question?”
He clearly has no answer for this and turns away.
“How long do I have to stay here?”
He whirls back as if I’ve already taken too much of his time. “Depends.”
“This would go faster if you provide all the information rather than making me keep asking questions.”
His fuzzy white eyebrows make an upside down vee. “If you can stay home and rest—and I mean rest—for three days. No doing anything except make a cup of coffee or go to the bathroom.”
I nod, somehow managing not to flinch and shout OUUUCH! I hold up my arm for the nurse to detach all the tubes.
“No. She can’t leave.”
I peer around the nurse’s ample backside to see Eddie, fully alert. “Sorry,” I tell him, “my choice.”
The doctor disappears along with the minty aroma. What is that anyway?
Eddie’s whole face droops like someone took away his fave bacon hamburger.
As the nurse finishes tucking away the paraphernalia, I kick my feet over the edge of the bed, knowing as soon as I set the feet on the floor, dizzies will start, so I hold off. I have, after all, been through this before.
Eddie leaps to his feet. He races to the tiny closet and returns with my clothes and sandals.
The nurse says, “I’ll be back with the wheelchair in a few minutes.”
Eddie tosses the clothes in my lap, then makes a deliberate motion to turn his back.
“You’re not leaving?”
“Nope. You won’t be alone for the next three days. Not for a minute.”
This conjures some truly awkward images. Eeuw.
I cover with, “Where is my bike?”
“I had the motorcycle towed to Sheena’s shop. The back end’s pretty messed up. What were you thinking to be driving so fast on a dirt road? Don’t you know how unpredictable gravel roads can be?”
Is he serious? “I—”
Best not to say anything right now. My head hurts. I motion for him to turn around again and dress, pulling my things on with the hospital gown still in place. Exhausted, I lean on the bed to slip into the sandals.
The nurse arrives pushing the chair. She hands the chief a couple of pieces of white paper. “These are prescriptions for pain.”
Eddie says, “Thanks.” I say nothing because the chance of me taking them is slim. She proceeds to show him the way to position the bandage when it’s time to change. Fat chance he’ll have anything to do with that either so I make sure to pay attention as I slide into the chair.
Soon, I’m being helped pout of the chair. Eddie opens the back door of his personal vehicle.
“Backseat?”
“Not taking any chances of an accident on the way home. You’ll stay in the back protected.”
“So…if we’re in an accident and you’re incapacitated, do I just sit there and wait for help to come?”
The nurse snickers as she turns to go. Pretty sure she wishes the chief good luck. Really, she should be saying it to me.
Thursday morning
I guess I sleep all the way to the marina. I jerk awake as Eddie stops in front of the dock. Jakob is standing there waiting, arms crossed, face scrunched like he just sucked a lemon. Jeez-looweez, not two of them. Admittedly, I had been wondering how I would get all the way down the dock and climb into the houseboat without screaming like a baby. There is one bit of good luck here: he didn’t take me to his house. Visions of the possibilities pile onto the awkward ones from earlier.
The guys get me onto the boat. I gesture to the couch.
“No. Bed.”
A simple glance at him achieves the meaning I intend, so he escorts me to the couch where I sit—carefully—to bask in the delightful sunshine. Jakob brings me a glass of water then deposits a kiss onto my left temple. “I’m going to fill your scripts. Be back asap. Stay right there.”
Eddie’s bustling around in the kitchen. Soon he appears with a plate holding two pizza slices which he sets in front of me. Then he unfolds a napkin and—get this—like a fancy-restaurant waiter, lays in my lap. I don’t know how, but I don’t laugh. Not because of possible pain…because I don’t want to hurt his feelings. He’s trying so hard. But, says the little voice in my head, he thinks you crashed your bike. I wonder about the benefit of telling him the truth. Won’t he become even more dedicated to keeping me safe? I’ll never get rid of my bodyguards. So, for now, I’ll say nothing. In three days when I’m officially allowed out of this prison, maybe.
The chief lumbers back inside, and into my bedroom. Really? This is the reason for leaving home and living in the woods, no one invading my private space.
Just then Diablo flies over, makes a swoop to zoom in, rivaling my moves in the quidditch game. He lands on the arm of the couch, takes one sniff of me and squawks.
“Sorry, bud,” I tell him, “I’ll get in the shower as soon as possible.” I tear off a piece of crust and hand it to him.
Eddie returns. He’s on the phone. “No, don’t come over. She’s having something to eat…I know but I don’t dare put her to bed hungry, she’ll chew my arm off. Anyway, I’ll let you know when she’s awake…Okay, thanks for calling.”
“Anna, right?” I ask as he stows the phone on his belt.
“Yes.”
He places a second plate of pizza on the table and drops into the chair across from me. Uh-oh. He’s gonna start asking questions now. Which he does.
“Tell me what happened.”
“You already made up the story. Why should I try to change your mind with the truth?”
Eddie’s got a half-chomped bite in his mouth. He finishes chewing and swallows. I wait, letting him swish my words around in his head until they make sense to him.
“When have you known me to drive too fast?”
“I’ve never seen you drive at all.”
Oh yeah. Forgot about that.
“Are you saying something made you wrap yourself around a tree?”
“I thought I’d find out what it felt like.” When his lips barely twitch, I add, “Probably won’t do it again.”
“Good decision.”
I’ve got a wad of food in my mouth when something dawns on me. I hurry to swallow. “Remember the other day when you met us at Nona’s house?”
“The day you broke the police barrier?”
Not falling for the dig, I say, “Yes, that day. Well, remember also that you almost hit a car as you raced out of the driveway?” See? I can impart my own digs also.
Eddie nods calmly. Then he gets it. “The same car ran you off the road?”
I set the empty plate on the table, gesture no to Eddie’s silent request as to whether I want more, and say, “Just realized it now. He—or she—was parked a little beyond Arlene’s driveway. When I left, he waited a moment, then followed. I pulled as close to the side as I could, but his fender knocked the back end of the bike.”
“You think this was done on purpose?”
“No doubt about it. I don’t think they intended to kill me though. If so, wouldn’t they have run directly into my bike?”
Chief Eddie Wagner frowns. “I guess all I can ask right now is why. What have you gotten into?”
“You know everything Anna, Whitney and I know.”
“The fact he, or she, was in that neighborhood says one of two things: that he followed you or already knows where Arlene lives. If the latter, that means it’s somebody local.”
“Doesn’t it have to be a resident of town anyway? I mean, no stranger’s going to come in and, one, kill Nona or two, go after you. What motive could they have for either thing?” He gives a terse nod as if agreeing with himself, then motions for me to get up.
Of course, he lends a hand to escort me to the bathroom, and waits outside the door. How do I know he’s there? I see his shadow under the door. Jeez-looweez, the next three days are gonna seem like a month. Six.
Next, I get chaperoned to the bed. He holds up the covers. I slide under. Then, I swear to goodness, he actually tucks me in. Immediately, I kick them loose. I need my feet free.
He laughs. “Sorry, that was a bit much, wasn’t it?”
“Just a bit.” Diablo joins me, nestling on the other pillow.
“He actually sleeps with you?”
The question doesn’t need an answer. I’m just about out anyway. My eyelids are heavy. Suddenly I’m back in la-la-land. “I would have been a champion quidditch player, you know.”
As I drift off, I hear Eddie ask, “What the hell is quidditch?”