To Thine Own Self Be True (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Wolf’s cry soon turned to sobs, and the paramedics shoved me out of the way to resume their journey to the ambulance, where they slid Wolf in next to Rusty and slammed the door. I stood transfixed, my head pounding, as I watched them drive away.

“You okay?” Detective Shisler appeared at my elbow, surprising me out of my trance.

“No. You just get here?”

She nodded. “Detective Willard says he knows you.”

“Yeah.”

“I’d heard about the troubles you had. Just didn’t connect it all before now.”

I lifted a shoulder. “Doesn’t matter.”

We watched as cops and other law enforcement personnel entered Gentleman John’s Tattoos. I didn’t like to imagine what was in there that I hadn’t seen, and had no desire to find out for sure. Whatever it was, it would be nasty.

“Did they tell you what’s wrong with Rusty?” I asked. “He was unconscious when they took him out.”

She pinched her lips together. “They don’t know. I suppose once he gets to the hospital they’ll be able to figure it out.”

“Which hospital?”

“Grand View’s the closest. I assume they’ll take him there.” She looked up as Willard joined us. “You know where they’re taking them? Which ER?”

“Grand View.”

“I’m going,” I said. “I want to be there when Rusty wakes up. By the way, has anybody called Becky?”

“His wife?” Shisler asked. “I doubt it, since he was just found five minutes ago.” She took out her phone. “Know her number?”

“No. What about that North Wales detective who was looking for him?”

“Folsom?” Willard asked.

“Yeah. Him.”

“He’s on his way here,” Shisler said. “I’ll call him to confirm Rusty’s been found, and he can relay the message to Mrs. Oldham.”

“And what about Eve Freed? Billy?”

Shisler nodded. “I’ll stop by their house in a few minutes. I wanted to see Wolf and find out what I could before telling them.”

Wanted to make sure he was alive.

“I’m outta here,” I said.

“Going to the hospital, you said?” Willard asked.

“Yeah.”

“Need a ride?”

“Truck’s down the road.”

He put his hands in his pockets. “I’ll walk you.”

I turned to go.

“Stella?” Shisler held her hand over the receiver of her phone. “Thanks for all your help. We wouldn’t have found them—at least not yet—without you.”

I nodded. She was right.

“I’ll probably see you at the hospital before too long,” she said. “I’ll need to talk with Wolf.”

To tell him that I left Mandy lying in the snow to die.

“Come on, Stella,” Willard said softly. “Let’s get out of the way of these folks.”

I followed him away from the noise and the cop cars, from the people who were trying to find out what had happened in that quaint-looking log cabin. The road was a lot easier to walk on this time, seeing how I wasn’t being pursued by a cop. I did move quickly, though, since I wanted to get to the hospital, and Willard caught my arm once when I slipped on some black ice.

“How are things at your place?” Willard asked.

“Lucy’s getting married.”

“To Lenny?”

“Yup.”

He was quiet for a bit. “This new?”

“Very. He gave her the ring on Christmas Day.”

“I see.”

I glanced sideways at him, but he was looking ahead.

“Your truck?” he asked, jutting his chin toward the F150.

“That’s it.”

He walked me to the driver’s side, then leaned on the door as I scooted in. “You okay?”

“I’ll be better once I know Rusty and Wolf will be all right.”

“Sure. But I meant in general. You’re all right?”

I gripped my steering wheel and tilted my fists back and forth. Was I? Was I “all right”? “In general. I guess.”

“Well, if you need anything, you call me.”

I looked up at him. “I hope I don’t need help from the police ever again.”

He smiled gently. “I hope that, too. I meant you could call me as a friend.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

“Sure. You be careful driving, okay?” He shut the door on any response I might have made and stepped away from the truck.

I backed up to a spot where I could turn around, and headed down the road. In my rear view mirror I could see Willard, watching me go.

***

The ER was full, as ERs usually are, and I scoured the crowd for familiar faces. No Becky yet. No Billy or Eve. The only person I recognized was Detective Folsom, who must’ve gone directly to the hospital once he got Shisler’s call. I made my way over to him.

“Any news?” I asked. “On either of them?”

His head turned my direction, and he put away the Pocket PC he’d been working on. “Not yet. Still waiting to hear from the doc.”

“Becky on her way?”

He nodded. “Dreama and Rose, too. One of my guys is bringing ’em. Didn’t want the missus driving.”

“Good call.”

A phone rang, and Folsom reached into his pocket. He looked at the number. “Excuse me.” He stepped away to a corner, talking into the little contraption.

I looked around me at all the people I didn’t know, some of them distraught, some simply bored with the wait they were enduring. A seat close by opened up, and I sank onto it, perching on the edge. During the past half year, I’d been in the same emergency room twice before. Once when Bart had been attacked. Once when Howie had died. I prayed these two men would have the same fortune as Bart.

A while later the outer door swung open and Becky swept in, the girls jogging along behind her, clinging to her coat. She searched wildly around the room, and I stood and waved. She forged her way toward me. “Where is he? Is he all right? What’s happened to him?” Her eyes were red, and her fingers clutched my arm.

“I only saw him for a couple seconds when they brought him out of the house. He looked…asleep. I haven’t seen him here yet, or been told anything.” I stepped away and gestured toward my chair. “Here, Becky, sit.”

“I couldn’t sit.” She did, though, for a second, but popped up again and crossed her arms, her fingers tapping her elbows.

Rose and Dreama stuck close beside her, Rose’s arms wrapped around her mother’s elbow. Detective Folsom left his corner, where he’d been punching more things into his little computer, and joined us.

“Mrs. Oldham.”

She whipped toward him. “Is he all right? Have they told you?”

“I haven’t heard anything yet. The nurse said the doctor would be out as soon as possible.”

Becky stifled a sob and put a hand to her mouth. Rose sniffled, and Dreama bent over to hug her.

“I don’t suppose Ms. Crown here told you,” Folsom said, “but it was because of her we found your husband. She made the connections so it was possible for us to get him out of the situation.”

Becky’s mouth opened as she turned toward me. “Stella?”

I lifted a shoulder. “I’m glad—”

Becky flung herself at me and threw her arms around my shoulders, squeezing the air out of me. I tried to lift my arms to hug her back, but she had them pinned to my sides, and all I could manage was a little pat on her hips.

“Thank you, thank you,” she said into my hair. “I knew the first time I saw you that you were a good friend for my Rusty.”

“I’m glad I could help,” I said.

“Um, Mrs. Oldham,” Folsom said. “The doctor—”

As quickly as Becky had grabbed me, she let go, and I almost lost my balance as she leapt toward the man in blue scrubs. The girls stayed glued to her side, and I stepped forward so I could hear.

The doctor was smiling. “I’m happy to say Mr. Oldham is coming around,” he said. “And asking for his girls.”

Becky sobbed louder this time.

“It seems,” the doctor continued, “that he was sedated heavily, but nothing else appears to be wrong with him.”

“Oh, thank God, thank God,” Becky said.

“He woke up pretty quickly,” the doctor said, “but we’re still running some tests. A CAT scan of his head and neck, and EKG, chest x-ray, labs. We want to figure out exactly what he was given and make sure nothing else happened to him.”

“When can we see him?”

He glanced at Rose, most likely considering her age, then tilted his head. “You can see him right now for just a few minutes. As soon as the tests are done we’ll move him to a regular room, where we’ll keep him overnight. You can sit with him then for a little longer. I do have to warn you that he’s not quite himself yet.”

“I don’t care what he’s like,” Becky said. “I just want to see him.”

“Doc?” Folsom said. “Can I talk with Mr. Oldham tonight?”

The doctor nodded. “Give us a chance to get him in his new room. As soon as he’s settled, assuming he’s still awake, you can talk to him.”

“Great. Thanks.”

The doctor gestured toward the back and led Becky, Dreama, and Rose through the double doors. I hesitated, wanting to go, but knowing I wasn’t needed at the family reunion. Or wanted. Becky hadn’t even looked back to see if I was coming.

“That phone call I got?” Folsom said to me.

“Yeah?”

“Detective Shisler. She’s on the way with your other friend’s family. His mother-in-law?”

“And son. Billy.”

“Right.” He shook his head. “Wouldn’t want to be in your guy’s shoes. Poor man. Losing his wife like that.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath through my nose. When I opened them, Folsom was back on the phone, and I was left to my own thoughts again.

Mandy, lying in the snow. Wolf, his body hot with fever.

I held up my wrist and rubbed the inscription there.
How
. How could I ever let them disappear while I lay in the chair, oblivious?

“These your folks?” Folsom angled his head toward the door, where Eve and Billy had entered, Shisler at their side. Eve and Billy stood as if shell-shocked, doe-eyed in the bright lights. Shisler gently took Eve’s arm and led her into the room. She caught my eye and nudged her charges my way.

“No word yet,” I said when they arrived.

“But he was alive?” Eve’s voice held hope that hadn’t been there on Christmas Day.

“I talked to him.”

She took a shuddering sigh and reached down to squeeze Billy’s shoulder. Rather than hope, or even joy, the boy’s face betrayed only exhaustion and despair. Appropriate in someone who’d so tragically lost his mother. I knew Billy would soon be glad to see his father. His emotions just hadn’t had a chance to catch up yet.

A family cleared off a sofa, and Shisler claimed it for Eve and Billy.

Folsom hung around the edges, waiting for his chance to talk with Rusty, and Shisler stood at the end of the couch, punching a number into her cell phone. I stuck around, too, not sure what to do with myself. A hand clutched my sleeve, and I turned to Eve.

“I hear it’s thanks to you the police were able to find Wolf,” she said.

I cleared my throat. “I was able to talk to some people the cops couldn’t reach. It helped to link things.”

“Thank you,” Eve said. “Thank you for saving my Wolf.”

A while later a woman in the same kind of outfit as the earlier doctor stepped out of the doors and cast her eye about the room. Shisler perked up and walked toward her. They exchanged a few words, and the doctor came to the sofa.

“Mrs. Freed?”

Eve, who had been watching Shisler’s conversation with the doctor, stood up.

This doctor didn’t smile. “Mr. Moore is very ill.” She glanced at Billy, but the boy was still seated on the couch, his attention focused on something none of us could see. I drifted his direction and blocked the doctor from him, just in case he came back to the present. The doctor nodded her thanks.

“Mr. Moore has something called cellulitis—infection of his skin and underlying soft tissues. His tattoos have been defaced, and it looks like someone has taken a needle, a knife—I’m not sure at this point what all exactly was used—but he has suffered many injuries to his skin. Because of this, he has incurred infection so severe it’s starting to affect his body functions. We have him on our strongest intravenous antibiotics, and we’ve called in the hospital’s infectious disease team to monitor him and give recommendations. Besides those things, he’s had a chest x-ray and we’ve drawn blood and urine cultures to send to the lab. We’re just not sure what we’re dealing with.”

Eve sucked in her breath, but made no comment.

“I believe,” the doctor said, “that Mr. Moore will be able to overcome it, but that depends a lot on the condition of his health before he became sick.”

“He was very healthy,” Eve said. “In good shape. Didn’t smoke. Not on any medications.”

“That’s good,” the doctor said. “That’s very good.” She glanced around me toward Billy, then looked back at Eve. “I’m sorry you can’t see him just now, but he’s sleeping, with help of a sedative, and we’re doing what we can to cleanse his injuries. He’s also in a private room, since we’re not sure if he’s infectious or not. We’ll let you know as soon as he’s awake and can see visitors.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Eve said. “Thank you very much.”

The doctor nodded and disappeared back through the double doors. Eve turned to sit and crush Billy in a hug, her face crumpling. Billy’s face remained as it had been. Blank as a barn wall.

A commotion erupted at the front door, and Folsom and I spun around to see Mickey Spurgeon shoving his way into the room, Jewel swimming along in his wake. I raised my hand and Mickey changed his course, startling several waiting room occupants out of their stupors. Many eyes followed the pair as they crossed the room, not entirely because of the force of entry. Mickey’s mustache was flying, and his facial jewelry sparkled under the harsh fluorescent lights.

“Where is he?” he demanded, inches from my face.

I jerked my thumb toward the double doors. “Back there.”

He made a move in that direction, but Shisler stepped in his path.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “No one’s allowed through.”

Mickey reared back. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Mickey,” I said, “this is the detective who helped find Wolf.”

He glanced back at me, and Jewel placed a hand on his chest. “Come on, sweetie,” she said. “Settle down.”

“Settle down? What do you mean settle down? My best friend is lying at death’s feet and I’m supposed to
settle down
?”