Katie held the phone to his ear.
Savich drew a deep breath, hoping he was wiping all the damnable pain out of his voice. Sherlock could hear the smallest sound; she could even hear Sean’s breathing change before he hollered. “Sherlock? It’s me. No, no, I’m okay, just a little problem. Yes, we got Sam back. He’s fine. So is Miles. What little problem? Well, you see this van blew up and I was a bit too close to it. I got hit in the back by some flying metal.”
He closed his eyes, feeling the pain trying to draw him in. He really wanted to give in to it, but he wasn’t about to scare Sherlock out of her wits.
Katie simply took the cell and said, “Mrs. Savich, he’s going to be okay. We’re on our way to Johnson City Medical Center. Your husband will be all right. I’m not lying to you. I will stay with him. Don’t worry.”
Savich managed to say “Tell her not to come here” before his brain swam away.
He heard the sheriff talking, but he didn’t know if she was still speaking to Sherlock. He knew Sherlock was scared. If he’d gotten a call like this about her he would freak himself. He saw the sheriff lift her wet sweatshirt and slip the small bright blue cell phone back into the T-shirt pocket.
He couldn’t seem to stop looking at that cell phone even after she’d pulled the sweatshirt back down over it. Blue, it was a bright blue, ridiculous, really, but on the other hand, she’d never lose it. Blue for cops. He liked that. He closed his eyes, wanting very much to control the blasted pain. He could picture the sharp slice in his back, not an appetizing image. He really wished Sherlock were here even though he’d asked her not to come. Of course she’d be here as soon as humanly possible.
He was vaguely aware that Katie was speaking in a slow deep voice. “-my truck also has stainless-steel exhaust manifolds.”
Manifolds?
“And a high-capacity crankshaft that’s internally balanced. That reduces stress on the crankshaft, don’t you know. Did I tell you it was raining so hard this afternoon that I could barely see ten feet in front of me, even though I have the remarkable high-speed and twice-as-thick grade F windshield wipers on my truck?”
He wanted to laugh and she saw it.
But Savich didn’t hear any more after that, just sounds that were soothing, as she was used to speaking to someone who was hurt or not quite with it. Like him.
He didn’t rouse his brain until they were in the hospital emergency room and a nurse came forward and directed the four men to lift him from the gurney onto one of the narrow beds.
He heard the nurse speaking to the paramedics, heard Bueller give her a report on what had happened, heard the nurse greet the sheriff. She checked his IV and began cutting off his clothes. “Goodness, you’re dirty, Agent Savich. Not to worry, we’ll clean you up. You just keep holding on to his hand, Sheriff.”
“It’s too bad,” he said. “Sherlock just got me these slacks.”
“They’re sexy,” the nurse said, “but they’ve got to go, Agent Savich. Just stay still, Dr. Able will be here in a second to examine you.”
He heard Katie’s voice and focused on it as the nurse checked his blood pressure, took off the old EKG patches, and put on her own.
Katie said, “My truck has two cup holders in her center console, great for the kids.”
“My car doesn’t have even one cup holder,” Savich said. He felt cold wet cloths cleaning the mud from his legs. He wasn’t cold even though he was naked, and that was odd. “I’d like to have one,” he said, frowning a bit.
He was almost with her again. She said, “What kind of wheels do you have?”
“A Porsche.”
“I should have known, a hotshot guy like you.”
He wanted to chuckle, but it was beyond him. The nurse was talking to Katie, giving her his wallet and keys, and pulling a sheet up to his waist.
“Did you see Wade, my chief deputy? I just wish he didn’t want my job so badly,” Katie said, and he heard the frown in her voice. “That means I can’t trust him one hundred percent, and that’s too bad. But I guess you have to take the good with the bad, don’t you?”
“Kick Wade’s butt out of Tennessee or one day you’ll find yourself sabotaged but good.”
“I will surely think about that, Dillon. Thank you.”
“Agent Savich? I’m Dr. Able. Don’t move now. I see Linda’s got you all cleaned up. You’ve got no other wounds, just the one across your back. The EKG looks fine. You seem to be pretty stable, and that’s good. Now, I’m going to give you some morphine for the pain and examine your back.”
Savich looked at the dark-faced man with tobacco-stained teeth leaning over him and wondered how a doctor could begin to justify smoking to himself. He wanted to tell him smoking was nuts. He wanted to tell him that he didn’t want morphine, that he didn’t want to lose himself, but maybe it would be good if he checked out for a while. He felt Dr. Able fiddling with the IV line they’d started in the ambulance. Savich hoped he knew what he was doing.
“Let’s wait just a moment for the morphine to kick in,” Dr. Able said. “I’m going to draw some blood, see what’s going on, okay? Also we need to type and cross you. I’d say that with this wound you might be a quart low.”
Savich wanted to smile because that was funny, but he could only manage a nod. He just couldn’t do any more than that. He felt Katie stroking the back of his hand, and he focused on that.
As Dr. Able slipped a needle into his vein to draw blood, he said, “Sheriff, I understand there’ve been two fatalities?”
“Yes, Clyde. And I was almost the third. The only reason Agent Savich is hurt is because he saved my life. He tackled and flattened me in the mud when the kidnappers’ van exploded. I know I look bad, but it’s all on the outside. Don’t come near me with any of your needles, my innards are just fine.”
“Thank you, Agent Savich, for saving her neck. We need Katie. Linda said you were a mess, but not any longer. Nasty weather out there.”
Savich didn’t answer, didn’t ever want to move again. Then the morphine kicked in and it was like someone had pulled the monster’s teeth out of his flesh.
“There, we’ve got the blood.” Savich felt a pat on his arm. “Just lie still, Agent Savich. Here’s a pillow against your stomach to keep you up on your side. Another couple minutes, then we’ll see what we’ve got. Katie, how is the little boy?”
“Sam’s just fine. He and my daughter are probably out in the waiting room with Sam’s father, Miles Kettering. He and Agent Savich flew from Colfax, Virginia, into Ackerman’s Air Field. I’ll tell you, Clyde, given the winds out there, that’s quite an accomplishment.”
Everyone speaks so freely. Will she even tell him we flew in a Cessna?
“An accomplishment or just plain stupid. All right now, Agent Savich, let’s see just how bad this is.”
The pain was a low throb, nothing more, thanks to the morphine. Only thing was, his head was emptying out and he couldn’t bring himself to care a great deal about anything, himself included.
He didn’t realize he’d been gone until he heard Katie say, “Dr. Able doesn’t think it looks too bad. It’s a real clean slice but not deep, thank God.”
“We’re going to take you to the procedure room, Agent Savich, not the OR. It’s just on the other side of the emergency room. It’s nice and sterile and quiet. Katie, you can stay with him, but first you’re going to have to jump in the shower. Then put on scrubs and a mask, and those cute little booties for your feet.”
She patted his hand. “Don’t worry, Dillon, I’ll be right back.”
“They’ll let you in this procedure room?”
“Since you’re special, they’ll allow it this time. Now, I’m going to go get hosed down. Until I get back to you, I want you to think about that really neat coolant loss protection on my truck.”
Ten minutes later, thoroughly scrubbed, Katie settled herself down beside Savich, and picked up his hand. It was a nice hand, strong and tanned, with short buffed nails. She remembered that Carlo’s hands were like that, powerful and strong. A pity that her former husband’s character hadn’t matched his hands. False advertising all around. Good riddance to him.