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“What was that clicking on your radio after we turned off the light downstairs?” she asked. “It was like, click-click, then a pause and it happened again.”
“Oh, those jerks. They were only messing with me.”
“I hope they couldn’t hear us.” She giggled, not really concerned.
Will explained how a double-click of a mic button could signify “okay” or “affirmative.” After the second double-click, a dispatcher had come on to tell the units to keep the channel clear.
“You guys are as bad as nurses,” she said, nestling her head into his shoulder. The sheets smelled like Will, and now like both of them, and that made her happy. His heart was beating normal sinus rhythm. That made her happy, too.
His right leg suddenly thrust up in a crooked position.
“Did you do that deliberately?”
“No, it’s the spasticity. It usually kicks in an hour or so after I lie down. Then I have to sit up and shake my leg until it calms down, or I fall asleep in the chair and have bad dreams. Whine, whine, whine.”
“Poor baby.” She kissed his right thigh. It
was remarkably muscled up compared with the left. “Here.” She pushed it down and it immediately pulled back up. “Going to be stubborn, eh?” She rose up from beside him and swung across his leg, sitting on the quads. The muscles fought her but gradually eased up.
“Better?”
“It feels great.”
Cheryl Beth felt a little sizzle from pressure of his quads between her legs, and managed, “Uh-huh.”
She was about to come again when the phone rang.
Late-night phone calls were never good. As a pain nurse, Cheryl Beth knew they meant something was wrong with a patient, that she would have to throw on clothes and rush back to the hospital. She felt Will’s body tense beside her but he made no attempt to answer. In a few seconds, a voice came on his machine. The voice sounded distorted, like a robot out of an old sci-fi movie.
“Detective Borders, are you fucking with me? ‘Cause of death unknown…may be suicide.’ Are you not taking me seriously? If your situation didn’t interest me, I would immediately release the truth about my deathscapes to the public. Let the police be shown for fools. Let the city live in fear. I know you’re there, detective. I know you can hear me. Don’t assume you or the pretty nurse are safe…”
Will grabbed for the handset, nearly sending Cheryl Beth tumbling off the bed.
“Gone,” he said and cursed. He spoke into his hand-held radio. “He called a minute ago. Did you get it on the land-line tap?”
“Affirmative, 7140. Too short for a trace. Sounded like the voice distortion machine you can buy in any spy shop.”
“He’s watching my house.”
“It’s all clear out here. He may have seen you at Fountain Square or the symphony.”
Will set the radio back on the bedside table and pulled her close to him. She laid her head on his big chest and listened to his heart slowly stop its race. She could feel her own, whacking away under her sternum.
“He knows I’m a nurse,” she whispered.
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry I got you into this.”
“You didn’t.” She liked it that he called her “baby.” She said, “He killed three of my students. For all I know, I was in this before you were.”
He stroked her hair and thought about that. Then: “Do you know how to handle a pistol?”
“My daddy taught me.”
“Good. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“I know.”
He started to speak again, but she held her hand against his cheek, “Now, hush,” gently, and they held each other, skin on skin from face to toes, the best feeling in the world, no matter what waited tomorrow, what waited outside the bricks of the wall. She felt a brave peace.
