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“I’m a nurse!”
After Merrick explained about the glass in the back of the head, Joann directed the men on the proper way to carry the girl inside. Per Joann’s advice, they got her to the guest room and placed her on her side, propping pillows around her so nothing touched her wound.
“Tell me what happened,” Joann said while she examined the wound in the light of the bedroom.
“I’m not sure,” Merrick answered honestly. “Some guy was shooting at us, and he broke the glass, but she didn’t cry or anything, and we even had a conversation. But then she got tired and slept most of the way in the car. When she woke up just a few minutes ago, that was the first I knew she’d been hurt.”
“I’ll call 9-1-1,” Charlie said.
“No,” Merrick said sharply. He grabbed his employee’s arm before he could leave. “Don’t do that.”
“But you’re supposed to report all gunshot wounds,” Joann said, backing up her husband.
“First of all, it’s a glass wound, not a gunshot wound. But that’s not the point. You’re not going to believe this, but according to the girl, the person who attacked her and shot up my car is the sheriff – at least, that what she says.”
Charlie and Joann’s mouths dropped open. Merrick expected them to confirm what he’d been thinking all along, that the woman was deranged, making stuff up. Why on earth would an elected official like the Placid County Sheriff behave like that? Of course it couldn’t be the case.
She’d said that to keep him away from the law, so she could enable and protect some asshole boyfriend. Merrick would have been angry with the girl if he wasn’t so worried about her.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should call 9-1-1.”
But Charlie and Joann shook their head.
“Actually, it might very well be the sheriff. He’s got a reputation in this town, and I’d heard he’d been dating a black girl. It could be she’s telling the truth.”
At hearing that this girl had been dating anyone, Merrick stomach did an unexpected lurch. He shook it off. “So, we agree, no 9-1-1, but she needs a doctor. Is there an urgent care or something?”
“If she comes to and mentions the gunfire, the doctor will be obligated to call the authorities.”
The room fell silent.
“What about ol’ Doc Mitchell?” Charlie asked. “Isn’t he retired? Didn’t he have a run-in with the sheriff? Maybe he’ll keep his mouth shut, considering the circumstances.”
“Good idea,” Joann said. She left the room to make the call, and Charlie brought in two chairs to put by the bed. Merrick ran his hand through his hair as he looked at the girl in the bed. She was so beautiful and so talented. If she could just be alright. Please God, make her alright. Then he’d take her back to Atlantic City away from her crazy boyfriend and make her a star.
Minutes later, Joann returned to the room. “The doc says he’ll come, but, Charlie, you’ll need to fetch him. Old guy doesn’t drive at night anymore.”
While Joann and Merrick waited for Charlie to fetch the doctor, Merrick asked to borrow her telephone. He didn’t have his brother’s number memorized, but he knew the number to the front desk of the hotel. He called, and the operator recognized his voice and gave him Tony’s cell phone number.
“You dick!” Tony said the minute he got on the line.
“Shut up and listen, I’ve got trouble.”
Joann was in the kitchen making tea as Merrick brought Tony up to speed. “I need you, bro,” Merrick said.
“I’ll come as soon as I can.”
When Charlie returned with the doctor, Merrick’s first impression wasn’t good. The man had to be eighty if he was a day. He looked tired and bedraggled, as if he’d been dragged out of bed. But, after the doctor removed his overcoat and set about washing his hands, Merrick saw the man’s watery eyes still sparkled with a vast intelligence, and he relaxed.
After making his initial examination, the doctor asked Joann to assist as he laid out his tools on a clean towel covered with p
aper towels. Merrick held his breath as the old man picked up a tool from the tray. When he saw how steady the man’s hands were, he let his breath out. With the precision of a flight surgeon, the doctor used the surgical tweezers to latch onto the broken piece of glass with the utmost of care, pulling it out as Joann held the girl’s head still. A fresh spray of blood spurted from the wound, splattering the doctor’s thick glasses.
Merrick’s throat tightened as he held back a desire to help. The doctor didn’t even flinch, just efficiently placed the bloody glass and the precision tool on the tray provided by Joann, then turned his attention to applying pressure to the wound. After a few minutes, the bleeding slowed and Merrick felt guilty as he watched the doctor expertly clean and bandage the patient.
“Will she be alright?” Merrick asked. Realizing he was twisting his hands, he pushed them behind his back. What was wrong with him? Why was he behaving like a mother hen? What was it about this girl that made him want to throw up at the very thought that she might be in any serious danger?
“I believe she will be,” the doctor said, speaking over his shoulder from the small bathroom as he thoroughly washed his hands. “Her vitals are strong. The glass didn’t appear to have gone very deep.”
