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The scent of disinfectant coated the inside of Owen’s nostrils. He hated hospitals. Hated the attempt to sterilize the overpowering presence of death and pain and agony. Agony of both the patients and their loved ones, helplessly sitting with their hands folded in their laps and fear in their eyes as they waited to hear whatever news the doctors delivered.
He bit into his cheek and blocked the memories of being the helpless family member waiting to hear what had happened to his mother and receiving the life-changing news that she was dead.
His footsteps echoed off the shiny floors as he hurried toward his brother’s room, Marie hustling beside him with Nora snuggled against her. A phone call to his dad earlier confirmed Tommy had yet to be released. Might as well stop by and see how he was doing before heading out. He glanced at the square plaques by the doors with the black numbers and turned into room 112.
Tommy sat on the side of the bed, his feet flat on the floor and wearing his perfectly pressed uniform. He tapped the tip of his shoe against the ground, as if needing to expel energy. Unused medical equipment sat beside the neatly made bed, and a twenty-four-hour news channel dominated the television screen mounted in the corner of the room.
His dad sat in a pale green chair in front of the lone window, his head tilted back to watch the news show.
Owen stepped further into the room and cleared his throat. “I thought you were getting discharged today? Did you two decide to stay put and watch TV instead?”
Tommy twisted to face him and grimaced. “I’ve been ready for hours. I don’t understand why it takes so long for the doctor to just sign the darn paperwork so I can leave.”
Mike stood and nodded toward Marie. “Hello, again. Who’s your sidekick?”
“This is Nora,” she said, shifting to show the baby’s face to Mike.
“She’s beautiful,” he said with a small smile then focused on Owen with raised brows. “Any word on the gunshot victim?”
Owen rubbed a hand over his face. “He made it through surgery, but he’s in the Intensive Care Unit and hasn’t woken up. The victim was Damon Silas.”
Tommy whistled low. “Erica Zyler’s boyfriend and the chemistry teacher from the high school?”
Owen nodded. “One and the same. He’s the one person who could break this wide open, and I can’t even speak to him.”
“He’s not the only person,” Mike said. “I finally connected with Steven Piper. He’s in his office all day. Said to stop by and see him when you get the chance, and he’ll answer any questions you have.”
Marie shifted beside him, running the tip of her finger along the side of Nora’s cheek. “Who’s Steven Piper?”
“He owns Piper Properties and is responsible for purchasing the property your house sits on.” The last few days had whirled by like a tornado. Steven Piper had slipped his mind, and he’d forgotten to ask Marie if the name sounded familiar. “He’s been difficult to connect with. Have you heard his name before?”
Marie shook her head and the long wisp of her ponytail swung with the motion.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and a middle-aged woman in blue scrubs entered the room. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Wells. You know how it is in small hospitals. Too many patients, not enough staff.” She handed over a pile of paperwork. “The doctor just signed your discharge papers and you’re free to go. We recommend you make a follow-up appointment with your personal care physician.”
“No one needs to check him over again before he leaves? What about warning signs for bringing him back?” Mike frowned, worry shining from his large eyes.
Owen clapped a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezed. “He’ll be fine. He’s not the first guy I’ve known who’s needed Narcan. The doctor wouldn’t release him if he wasn’t ready, and Tommy’s a trained officer. He knows the signs of unforeseen issues more than most people.”
The nurse smiled at Mike. “Parent’s always worry the most, don’t they, Sheriff? The paperwork is very thorough and lists any concerns that could arise.”
Tommy stood and glanced down at the stack of papers. “Thank you, Beatty. You’ve all been wonderful, but I’m ready to get out of here.”
Beatty laughed, the sound bouncing off the bare walls. “Don’t worry, we’re ready for you to leave. You all have a nice day.” She turned her warm smile at each of them then hurried out the door.
Tommy scooped up a duffel bag from the floor and hoisted it over his shoulder. “All right. Where to next?”
Mike grabbed the nylon strap of the bag and yanked it away from Tommy. “I got this. How about I drive you home? Or even to your grandpa’s? You two can keep each other company, and your sister can get some relief.”
Tommy tightened his jaw and shook his head. “No way. I’ve been holed up in this place for the past twenty-four hours doing nothing more than twiddling my thumbs. If the doctor says I’m fine with no restrictions, I’m fine. Let’s get to work.”
Mike opened his mouth, but Owen cut in before his dad said something else to upset Tommy. “Why don’t you two go speak to Erica’s boss? We might have lost access to her home computer, but maybe she has information saved at work. I’ve got a guard posted by Damon’s room just in case and will be notified as soon as he’s able to speak with me. Maybe I’ll get lucky and Steven Piper can give us the information I need to find where Bill’s hiding.”
Tommy headed for the door, slapping Owen on the back and throwing Marie a wink on the way out of the room. “Perfect. We’ll keep you posted if we find anything. Hurry up, Pops. I don’t know where you parked, and you’re driving.”
A low growl emanated from his dad, and Owen tensed his shoulder and waited to take on the brunt of his frustration. Instead, Mike came to a stop beside Marie and dipped his chin to bring her gaze to his. “Keep an eye on my boy. I’m already worried enough about one of them. You’re a mom, so I know you understand what it means to worry about your child. Call me if he stops listening to reason.”
Marie’s lips spread into a shy grin. “I’ll look after him.”
