“Maybe you should lie back down for a bit,” Meredith suggests, getting off the bed. She doesn’t wait for my answer and lifts my feet up on the mattress. “Let me see if I can get you something for the pain.”
Joe chuckles when she darts out of the room before pulling up a chair and sitting down.
“So what’s the bad news?”
“Ah shit,” he says, running a hand through his short gray hair. “The little punk lawyered up. Billy McCarty. He was scared out of his wits, but all we got out of him was he didn’t kill anyone before he clammed up. But we did find a treasure trove of evidence going through that trailer. Including what looks like the knife used to kill Tom Ward.”
“That’s good though, isn’t it?” I reach for the Styrofoam cup of water and take a sip through the straw.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But despite what we did find, there was plenty still missing. No freezer and no industrial vacuum sealer. We still don’t have those.”
He falls silent when Meredith walks in with a fresh cup of water and one of those small pill containers she hands to me.
“I spoke with one of the nurses and she says the attending will be by shortly, which got me thinking. I should probably get to the office, have a quick shower, and get the autopsy on that body done before they end up discharging you. You’re going to need someone around for a while.”
Despite the throbbing behind my eyes, I break out in a smile.
“You volunteering?”
She smiles back. “Try and stop me.”
“Right,” Joe says, standing up. “Then how about we let this guy rest up and I give you a ride?” He winks at me before adding, “Take your time. I’ll just go grab the car.”
The moment he leaves, I pull Meredith down for a kiss.
“How’d I get so damn lucky?” I mumble against her lips.
She pulls back and looks down at me.
“Is this where we argue about who is the luckiest of the two?”
“Merry…I got shot, my family is fucking me over, my head feels it’s going to explode, yet the moment you walk into the room you’re the only thing that matters. I think I’ve got you beat.”
Her lips brush mine.
“Okay. You win.”
Chapter 27
Jay
Meredith had stopped by the hospital with pizza last night, but didn’t stay because she wanted to visit Beau at the clinic and get a good night’s sleep. Between her work, her recovering dog, and now me, she’s running ragged.
Since I couldn’t sleep for shit last night, I had all the time in the world to mull about what I could do to help. I know it’ll be a while before I’m allowed to get back to work, but there are other ways I can be useful. I don’t like sitting still.
Meredith dropped in on her way to the office this morning and just finished telling me she’ll be picking up Beau and the kitten from the clinic later this afternoon.
“Why don’t you bring them to my place?” I suggest carefully. “You have to work and once I’m released, I’ll be out of commission for the foreseeable future anyway. I can keep an eye on Beau until you get home.”
She tilts her head and her lips twitch. “Home?”
“My place.”
For a moment I’m afraid I’ve made one too many assumptions, but then she smiles.
“I can do that. For a couple of days anyway, until you and Beau get back on your feet.”
If it were up to me she’d stay, period, but I’ll take what she gives me. Besides, if the past week is any indication, a lot can happen in a few days.
I reach over and open the small drawer in the bedside table and fish around for my keys, slipping off my house key.
“Carlos should be around, but just in case.”
She takes the key from my hand and clips it to her own key ring.
“I should get started on my day,” she says as she stands up. “Let me know what the doctor says after he’s been by on his morning rounds. If you can go home, I can pick you up. I just need to shift a few things around, that’s all.”
She leans in for a much-too-brief kiss before rushing out of the door.
I wonder if this is what our relationship will be like; short stints of intense togetherness followed by long and unpredictable hours at work for both of us, but I’ll take that too. Because it’s those temporary lulls in our hectic existence that will hold a life I’ve only imagined.
I love her.
Don’t ask me how I know, because the feeling is completely new to me. Growing up, love was never part of the equation. Duty, loyalty, pride, those were all words I was familiar with from a very young age. Love was simply not in the family vocabulary. My grandmother loved me, and although she never told me, she showed me.
But that was a different brand of love than this emotion burning hot in my chest. These overwhelming feelings needing release. Words to be shouted from the rooftops.
“Are you okay?”
My eyes shoot open as Blackfoot walks into the room.
“Yeah. Fine, why?”
“You looked like you were in a lot of pain.”
“I’m good,” I assure him with a grin.
He shakes his head. “That cap to the skull must’ve done more damage than we thought—you’re way too fucking happy this early in the morning.”
The metal legs of the chair scrape over the floor as he pulls it close to the bed.
“So anyone tell you when you can go home?”
“Not yet, I think they’re doing rounds now. What brings you here?”
“I’m killing time.”
I bark out a laugh. “I feel special.”
“Fine. I’m checking up on you and I’m killing time,” he grumbles. “Waiting for a warrant. Spent all fucking day yesterday sifting through the contents of that trailer and running down leads. As it turns out, after Jeff died, the trailer became a family drug hangout. We pulled out fingerprints belonging to at least eight relatives, including Jordan Dunwoody’s, but also both Heath and McClintock’s prints.” He runs a frustrated hand over his face. “Hell, we’ve got McCarty nailed with ironclad attempted murder charges for shooting you, but anything else we’re coming up with is circumstantial at best, and that little punk still won’t talk, hiding behind his goddamn lawyer.”
“So what’s the warrant for?” I want to know.
“Didn’t Doc tell you?”
“No.”
Meredith didn’t tell me anything. Last night when I asked her about her day, all she said was that she got a lot done and this morning we mostly talked about Beau.
“She found a folded piece of paper in Tom Ward’s clenched fist when she was doing his autopsy. There were two rows of numbers scribbled on it and the words ‘unit 29.’”
“Storage unit,” I suggest.
“Got it in one. We went on a hunch it was the one near Ward’s property and Gomez called in a cadaver dog. It was a clear hit on unit twenty-nine. Couldn’t get hold of the judge last night to sign a warrant, so I left Ramirez camped outside the courthouse, ready to pounce on him when he gets in and I’m killing time here.”