I nod, unable to argue with her. She’s done so much already, and she’s probably right.
“He also needs antibiotics to make sure he doesn’t get an infection.”
“Okay. Do you have those, or…?”
With an irritated huff, she finishes up the last stitch. “I’m a vet. Of course I do.”
“Well, can humans take animal antibiotics?”
Mirren whips off her gloves, refusing to look at me. I wait for her to respond, clenching my jaw while she slowly washes her hands. It’s not until she’s snapped two paper towels free and starts drying her fingers that she finally turns to look at me.
“Yes. He’ll be fine with the drugs I can supply from this clinic. But I’m not happy about this. He needs a proper checkup with a qualified doctor.”
“I’m telling you, he won’t have health insurance.”
“Annie, honey.” She points at Michael. “He’s a stranger.”
I follow her finger, my heart tingling as I gaze at his face. “Yeah. Who needs our help.”
“You don’t even know him.” Mirren takes my shoulders, forcing me to look at her. “What’s if he’s some criminal or somethin’?”
“He’s not!”
“You don’t know that.”
“He has kind eyes. And before you tell me that’s dumb, just… hear me out. I’ve got a good sense about him. A gut instinct. And you know that if Mama was still alive, she would be backing me on this. People are brought into our paths so we can help ’em. That’s what she always said.”
Mirren squeezes her eyes shut and puffs out a heavy sigh before looking at me again. “He may be a very nice man, but we don’t know who shot him, and if someone is after him…” She tuts. “Annie, girl, I just want to keep you safe.”
“I’m fine. I’m safe.”
Her chin dips forward, and her pointed gaze is enough to make my insides squirm.
“Look, he just needs to get better, and then he’ll probably be on his way. Let’s just help him that far, at least.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she studies him with another sigh.
Billy’s standing over the table, feeling around in his front pockets.
“Would you stop that?” I snap at him.
Billy ignores me, looking annoyed when he can’t unearth anything. “No ID. No wallet. No phone. Come on, Annie. This ain’t right. Somethin’ is off.”
I open my mouth to argue, but Franks speaks first. “Check his back pockets.”
Billy goes to roll him over, but Mirren quickly stops him. Coming around the table, she gently moves Michael, cradling him properly so Franks can check. She wiggles a small plastic card out of his back right pocket.
“Driver’s license.” She waves it in the air with a triumphant smile.
“Michael Adams.” Her eyebrows rise. “Interesting. No middle name.”
“That’s not so weird,” I argue. “Plenty of people don’t have middle names. And I told you! His name is Michael.”
“He’s from Texas. Five feet, eleven inches tall and…” She looks to the ceiling like she’s working something out, then murmurs, “He’ll be turning twenty-one in July.”
“See? He’s twenty! That’s what he told me, so he’s not a liar!”
Mirren turns back to me with a sigh that deflates her shoulders. “All right. All right. We get it. He didn’t lie to you about his name or age.”
“He didn’t lie to me at all.”
Rolling her eyes, Mirren approaches me again, resting her hands back on my shoulders. “Okay. Fine. No hospital for now. But he can’t stay here. I’ve got patients in the mornin’. And if anyone saw him in the house… well, you know what this town’s like.”
“Yeah, I get it.” I’m trying to sound upbeat, but my insides are burning. I was really hoping he could recover here.
“Is it safe enough to move him?” Franks asks.
“We’ll need to be careful, but if we can transport him someplace warm and safe, keep him flat, we can—”
“Grandpa’s garage.” I snap my fingers. “Behind the restaurant.”
Mirren’s face scrunches up. “Is it still clean in there? That garage hasn’t been used in years.”
“Jackson and I go in there all the time,” I admit, then give away one of my best-kept secrets. “I’ve turned that attic space into a hideout for us. Dean doesn’t know about it. He’s afraid of heights, so he never goes up there.”
“Well, it’ll definitely be clean, then.” Franks winks at me.
Mirren points to the table. “We can’t lug him up an attic ladder in his condition.”
I tut and bite my bottom lip, trying to think of another solution.
“What about that office bedroom space your grandpa created in the back of the garage?” Franks looks at me. “Do you remember? One of the chefs used to live in there.”
My head starts bobbing, and I grin at her brilliant idea. “Grandpa put in a shower and toilet for him. I don’t know if they work anymore, but the bedroom part will do, right?”
Mirren cringes. “It needs to be clean.”
“If I could just borrow some sheets or somethin’. Then he’ll at least be on a clean bed until I can move him up to the attic.”
“And there’s a bed up there?”
“Yeah. Well, a mattress.” I grin, thinking of the hours I’ve spent making it pretty. I started years ago, when Mama first married Dean and I needed my own space. Over the years, I’ve dragged all kinds of things up there. I like it more than my bedroom.
“That’ll work, Mama. Billy can carry him into the office for tonight, and as soon as he can walk, Annie will help him upstairs where he’ll be safely hidden away until he’s well enough to leave.” Franks steps up beside her boyfriend, wrapping her slender fingers around the crook of his arm.
Billy groans and dips his head, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “This is a bad idea. If Dean finds out you’re doin’ this, he’s gonna lose it.”
“It’s just for a few days,” I mutter, trying not to let his warning bother me. I won’t be dissuaded from this mission. I am helping Michael Adams, no matter the cost. I look up at Billy and put my begging eyes on. “Please.”
He grunts and rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
“Thank you, baby.” Rising to her tiptoes, Franks gives him a quick peck on the cheek.
“That’s real nice of you, Billy, but I’m still not comfortable with this,” Mirren says. “Dean might happen to spot him. He may be an idiot, but he’s not completely stupid.”
“I just told you he never goes near the garage,” I argue.
She frowns. “You told me he never goes upstairs. What if he spies him through the window or somethin’?”
“Well, can I move him up to the attic tomorrow?”
“I guess so. As soon as he’s well enough to walk, you can move him.” Mirren’s frown deepens. “But what about the bathroom? It’s gonna be so inconvenient for him to have to go up and down.”