“Lieutenant McPherson said a nurse saw someone dressed in hospital whites,” Molly said. “But that’s no big deal. It’s a little like wearing a uniform at the Pentagon. Nobody gives you much of a second glance if you appear to be someone who’s supposed to belong.”
“She’s right,” Ramsey said. “It’s the only reasonable answer. Actually I don’t think it’s all that reasonable, but hey, this is a hospital, not a top-security area. The hospital staff weren’t alerted to keep an eye out.” He closed his eyes a minute. He was exhausted, his rib hurt, his shoulder ached like the devil, and he was ready to call in the cavalry for a pain pill.
He suddenly felt Emma’s hand slip into his. He turned his head to see her studying him, knowing that he hurt, not knowing what to do about it. It was a lie, but he said cleanly, “I’m just fine, Emma. But I like you right here holding my hand.”
He also felt incredible relief. Dickerson was dead, long gone, no more threat to anyone. Emma was safe.
Lieutenant McPherson cleared his throat. “I also ran in here, Judge Hunt, because, to tell you the truth, you’re the best suspect.”
“I’m not moving too quickly right now,” Ramsey said. “I nearly hung it up when you burst through that door. I think stealing a white coat, finding some potassium, since I don’t carry any around with me, and walking nonchalantly into the ICU just might have been beyond even my abilities, astounding though they be.”
“That was a joke,” Emma said to Lieutenant McPherson.
“I know. I’m glad all of you were here. It makes things easier.”
Not an hour later, when the three of them were finally alone again, though they could see news vans below them in the street, they discovered they were all still too hyped to go back to sleep. The phone rang. Molly answered it, then, with a strange look on her face, she handed it to Ramsey. “I don’t understand. It’s my father. He wants to speak to you.”
Ramsey thought briefly about pressing the speaker button. No, Emma was here. He picked up the phone and identified himself. It was indeed Mason Lord. He said, “I’m much better and I understand that you’ll survive as well, Ramsey. Oh yes, I’m also given to understand that there will be no more problems with that animal who was after Emma, and shot you.”
Ramsey said very quietly, though he could feel the blood pounding through him, “How did you know, sir? Surely there hasn’t been enough time for it to be on the news yet.”
Mason laughed softly, then said, amusement lacing his voice, “I have friends everywhere, Ramsey. Of course I find things out very quickly. Actually, one could almost say that I find some things out almost before they happen.”
Had it been Gunther who killed Dickerson? Or had Mason hired local talent for just this one assignment? Now that he’d had a second or two to think about it, he wasn’t at all surprised. He didn’t say anything. Why bother? What was there to say anyway?
“Now Emma doesn’t have to be afraid, nor do you or Molly. I will expect the three of you here for Thanksgiving. That’s my favorite holiday. No one expects extravagant gifts, just a great meal, which Miles always delivers.”
“Yes,” Ramsey said. “We’ll be there.” Slowly, he placed the phone back in the receiver. He looked at Molly and shook his head. She frowned a moment, then he knew she understood. She made a big deal out of yawning. “I’m ready to fold my tent. How about you, Em?”
“I’m sleepy too, Mama. What did Grandpa want, Ramsey?”
“He wanted to make sure we were all right. Nothing more.”
“He was nice to call,” Emma said, kissed Ramsey, and let her mother tuck her in.
Ramsey leaned back and closed his eyes. His shoulder was hurting like the devil. His fingertips tingled. His head ached. Now this. Molly leaned down to kiss him. He whispered, “He had Dickerson killed. What am I supposed to do?”
“Tell McPherson the truth. It won’t matter, you know it won’t. No one will ever take down my father. In fact I’ll bet my father wants you to tell the cops. He’s probably laughing right now, imagining it.”