Grogginess, exhaustion, possible internal injuries, they were one and the same. If I had ever felt this badly before, I couldn't remember the time, and didn't want to. We collapsed into the first of our rooms when we reached the Holiday Inn on Sunset.
“Are you all right? You don't look so good to me.” Not unexpectedly, Kate resumed her advertisement for the Mctierman Medical Group. She was a compelling spokeswoman, actually. She had a way of crinkling her forehead that made her look thoughtful and wise, and highly professional.
“I'm not dying, I'm just dead tired.” I groaned and slowly lowered myself onto the edge of the comfy bed. “Just another tough day at the office.” "You're so damn stubborn, Alex. Always the macho big-city detective.
All right, I'm going to examine you myself. Don't try to stop me or I'll break your arm, which I'm entirely capable of doing."
Kate pulled a stethoscope and sphygmomanometer out of one of her travel bags. She wasn't taking “no,” “absolutely not,” or “no way” as an answer.
I sighed. “I'm not having a physical exam now, and especially here,” I told her with as much resolve as I could muster under the circumstances.
“I've seen it all before.” Kate rolled her eyes and frowned. Then she smiled. No, actually she laughed. A doctor with a smile and a nice sense of humor. Imagine that.
“Take your shirt off, Detective Cross,” Kate said to me. "Make my day.
My night, anyway."
I started to pull my shirt over my head. I half moaned, half yelled.
Just taking the shirt off hurt like hell. Maybe I was seriously hurt.
“Oh, you're just fine and dandy,” Dr. Mctiernan pronounced with a wicked chuckle. “Can't even get your shirt off.” She bent in close, extremely close, and listened to my breathing with the stethoscope. I could hear her breathing without the help of any machine. I liked the sound of her heartbeat up close like this.
Kate probed my shoulder blade. Then she moved my arm back and forth, and it hurt. Maybe I was banged up a lot worse than I thought. More likely, she wasn't using her gentlest touch while she examined me.
She poked my abdomen and ribs next. I saw stars, but not a peep came from me in protest.
“That hurt at all?” she asked. Doctor-to-patient talk. Detached, professional.
“No. Maybe. Yes, a little. Okay, quite a lot. Owl That wasn't so bad. Ow.”"
“Getting hit by a train isn't the way to keep the average human body in excellent running shape,” she said. She touched my ribs again, gentler this time.
“That wasn't my plan,” I said, offering the only defense I had.
“What was your plan?” “My fleeting thought up at Big Sur was that maybe he knew where Naomi was, and I couldn't let him get away. My ultimate plan was to find Naomi. It still is.” Kate used both her hands to feel my rib cage. She applied pressure, but nothing too extreme. She asked me if it hurt to take a breath.
“To tell the truth, I kind of like this part,” I told her. “You have a nice touch.” “Uh-huh. Now the trousers, Alex. You can keep your drawers on if it makes you feel better.” A little of her drawl was creeping into her speech.
“My drawers?” I grinned.
“Your bikini underwear from Gentlemen's Quarterly. Whatever you're wearing today. Let's see the goodies, Alex. I'd like to see a little skin.” “You don't have to show such obvious damn glee about this.” I was very much awake all of a sudden. I did like the way Kate touched me, though. I liked it a lot, in fact. Different kinds of sparks were starting to fly.
I pulled off my pants. I could not get to my socks, not even close.
“Mmm. Not so bad, actually,” she offered her opinion of something or other. I began to feel hot, uncomfortably warm, in the hotel room.
Under these circumstances, anyway.
Kate applied gentle pressure against my hips, then against my pelvis.
She asked me to slowly raise my feet off the bed, one at a time, while she kept her hands firmly on my hip joints. Very carefully, she felt my legs from my groin area, all the way down to my feet. I mostly liked that, too.
“Lots of abrasions,” she said. “I wish I had some bacitracin ointment on hand. It's an antibiotic.” “I was just thinking the same thing.” Finally, Kate stopped all the probing and poking and pulled away from me. She frowned and wrinkled her nose, nibbled her upper lip. She looked smart, academic, professional as the surgeon general.
“Blood pressure's a little high, borderline, but I don't think anything's broken,” she pronounced. "I don't like the discoloration on your abdomen and your left hip, though. Tomorrow you'll feel sore and stiff, and we'll have go over to Cedars-Sinai and get a few X rays taken.
Do we have a deal?"
Actually, I felt a little better after Kate examined me and pronounced that I wouldn't die suddenly during the night. “Yes. It wouldn't be a complete day without one of our deals. Thank you for the examination, Doctor ... thank you, Kate,” I said.
“You're quite welcome. It was an honor.” She finally smiled. “You look a little like Muhammad Ali, you know. The Great One.” So I have been told. “In his prime,” I joked. “I do dance like a butterfly.” “I'll bet. I sting like a bee.” She winked and crinkled her nose again. A nice tic of hers.
Kate lay back on the bed. I stayed there beside her. Close, but not close enough to touch. We were at least a foot apart. Very strange, but nice strange. I missed her touch already.
We were quiet for the next minute or so. I glanced over at her. Maybe it was more than a glance. Kate had on a black skirt with black tights, a red peasant blouse. The bruises on her face had faded. I wondered about the rest of her. I held in a sigh.
“I'm not Nanu the ice queen,” she said softly. “Trust me, I'm normal as they come. Frisky, fun, a little crazy. At least I was a month ago.” I was surprised that Kate thought I might be feeling that way about her. She was the opposite, warm and compassionate. “I think you're great, Kate. Truth be told, I like you an awful lot.” There, it was out. Probably an understatement at that.
We kissed gently. Just the briefest kiss. There was something right about it. I liked the feel of Kate's lips, her mouth on mine. We kissed again, maybe to prove that the first one hadn't been a mistake, or maybe to prove that it had been.
I felt as if I could kiss Kate all night, but we both gently pulled away. This was probably more than either of us could handle right now.
“Don't you admire my self-control?” Kate smiled and said.
“Yes and no,” I told her.
I pulled on my hair shirt again. It took some effort, and produced hellacious pain. I would definitely go for X rays tomorrow. Kate started to cry and buried her face in the pillow. I turned toward her and put my hand on her shoulder.
“You okay? Hey?” “I'm sorry. Shoot,” she whispered, trying to stop the tears. “I just ... I know I don't seem like it most of the time, but I'm freaking out, Alex. I've been freaking out. I've seen so many horrible things. Is this case as bad as your last one the child kidnapping in D. C.?” she asked me.
I held Kate very gently in my arms. I hadn't seen her quite so vulnerable, so open about it, anyway. Everything suddenly became more relaxed between us.
I whispered into her hair. "This case is as bad as anything I've seen.
It's actually worse because of Naomi, and because of what happened to you. I want him more than I wanted Gary Soneji. I want both of these monsters."
“When I was a very little girl back home,” Kate said, still in a whisper, “I was just learning to talk. I was probably four months old.” She smiled at the exaggeration. “No, I was around two. When I would get cold, and I wanted to be held, I'd combine the two ideas. I used to say, ”Cold me.“ It meant ”Hold me, I'm cold.“ Friends can do that. Cold me, Alex.” “Friends should,” I whispered back.