Thelma Nettro said, “Did you kill her, Mr. Quinlan?”
“I don’t know,” he said, the pain still roiling through his groin.
“Martha’s like a daughter to me. Don’t you remember? I told you that once.” She raised a pistol from her lap and shot him.
In the next instant, the front door burst open. Sally, who was running to Quinlan, heard a man shout, “Nobody move! FBI!”
33
“MR. QUINLAN, CAN you hear me?”
“Yes,” he said very clearly. “I can hear you, but I don’t want to. Go away. I hurt and I want to hurt alone. My Boy Scout leader told me a long time ago that men didn’t whine or moan, except in private.”
“You’re a trooper, Mr. Quinlan. Now, I’ll make that hurt go away. How bad is it?”
“On a scale from one to ten, it’s a thirteen. Go away. Let me groan in peace.”
The nurse smiled over at Sally. “Is he always like this?”
“I don’t know. This is the first time I’ve ever been around him when he’s been shot.”
“Hopefully that won’t happen again.”
“It won’t,” Sally said. “If he ever lets it happen again,
I’ll kill him.”
The nurse injected morphine into his IV drip. “There,” she said, lightly rubbing his arm above the elbow, “you won’t hurt very soon now. As soon as you have your wits together, you can give yourself pain medication whenever you need it. Ah, here’s Dr. Wiggs.”
The surgeon was tall, skinny as a post, with the most beautiful black eyes Quinlan had ever seen. “I’m in Portland?”
“Yes, at OHSU, Oregon Health and Sciences University Hospital. I’m Dr. Wiggs. I took that bullet out of your chest. You’re doing just fine, Mr. Quinlan. I hear you’re a very brave man. It’s a pleasure to save a brave man.”
“I’m going to get even braver soon,” Quinlan said, his voice a bit slurred from the morphine. He was feeling just fine now. In fact, if he weren’t tied to this damned bed with all these hookups in every orifice of his body, he’d want to dance, maybe even play his saxophone. He’d like to call Ms. Lilly, maybe even tell Marvin the Bouncer a joke. He realized his mind wasn’t quite on track. He had to remember to ask Fuzz the Bartender to get some decent white wine in stock for Sally.
“Why is that, Mr. Quinlan?” the nurse asked.
“Why is what?”
“Why are you going to get even braver?”
He frowned, then smiled as he remembered. He said, his voice as proud and happy as a man’s could ever get, “I’m going to marry Sally.”
He turned his head and gave her the silliest smile she’d ever seen. “We’re going to spend our honeymoon at my cabin in Delaware. On Louise Lynn Lake. It’s a beautiful place, with smells that make your senses melt and-”
He was out.
“Good,” Dr. Wiggs said. “He needs lots of sleep. Don’t worry, Ms. Brainerd. He’ll be fine. I was a bit worried for a while in surgery, but he’s strong and young and he’s got a will to survive that’s rare.
“Now, let me just check him over. Why don’t you go outside? Mr. Shredder and Ms. Harper are in the waiting room. Oh, yes, there’s a Mr. Marvin Brammer there too and a man who’s sitting on the sofa with a computer on his lap.”
“Mr. Brammer is James’s boss. He’s an assistant deputy director of the FBI. The guy with the computer-”
“The sexy one.”
“Yes, that’s Dillon Savich. He’s also FBI.”
“Mr. Brammer’s got quite a twinkle in those eyes of his,” Dr. Wiggs said. “As for Mr. Savich, no matter how gorgeous he is, I don’t know if he’s even aware of where he is. I heard him say, to no one in particular, ‘Eureka!’ but nothing else. Go out now, Ms. Brainerd, and leave me alone with my patient.”
The waiting room was just down the hall. Sally ran into Marvin Brammer’s arms. “He’s all right,” she said over and over. “He’ll be just fine. He’s already complaining. He was talking about his Boy Scout leader telling him that men never whine or moan except when they’re alone. He’ll be just fine. We’re going to get married, and I’ll make sure he never gets shot again.”