AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Five hours later, Roberta’scell phone rang incessantly while she took the dogs for a walk to the roadblock and back. Being an unknown number, she was prepared to hit the ignore button and let anyone calling leave a message if it was important. But something told her to take the call. There was an irrational urgency to the ring, a panic-stricken sense ebbing up her body from her feet to the hairs on the nape of her neck. Hairs that stood on end as the phone rang.
She answered just before it rolled over to voice messaging. “Hello.”
“Hello, I’m looking for Roberta Kove, please.” The unfamiliar female voice said.
Perhaps it was Mrs. Reyd. “This is she,” Roberta said.
“This is Marcie Tate, Taylor’s personal assistant. I’m calling about Taylor. He’s been in an accident on set, and he insisted I tell you he’s here in the hospital.” Roberta heard the thin thread of panic in her voice.
The blood in her veins went still as her heart skipped a beat. She started to jog, pulling Tucker and Goober along to lope beside her as she headed for home. “My God, what happened? Where is he?” Her breath came hard as her heart beat in double time, as much from the running as from the panic spreading through her body. “Which hospital?” Roberta demanded.
Voice clipped short and tight, Marcie said, “He’s at UPMC, the Presbyterian Emergency Department in downtown Pittsburgh. He said to tell you he is conscious and doing okay. You don’t need to come down. In fact, you shouldn’t in case there are media crews here.”
“What happened?” Sweat poured down the sides of her face as she continued to run flat out up the driveway. The dogs, who had sensed this was no play maneuver, followed without hesitation. She ran into the house and let the dogs off the leash before grabbing her purse and keys and heading out to the car.
“He was driving an all-terrain vehicle in a chase during a crane shot. He refused to use a stunt double. It overturned on an uneven surface,” Marcie reported.
Already in her car, Roberta started it and backed out onto Burgess Lane. “I’m on my way as we speak. I should be there in twenty to thirty minutes.”
“That’s not a good idea, Ms. Kove,” Marcie reiterated.
“I’m coming anyway. Sounds like Taylor wants me there.”
A moment of silence confirmed her suspicion. “All right. I’ll keep an eye open for you and see if any cameras are hanging around,” she replied. “Let me see what I can do to sneak you in.”
It only took twenty-two minutes to get into the Emergency Department. Luckily she wasn’t pulled over for speeding. Marcie Tate met her at the entrance and escorted Roberta to a small private room at the end of a hall. As they walked, Marcie explained the doctors still had not determined whether his collar bone was broken or only cracked along with his dislocated shoulder. There was also the concern of a concussion. Apparently, Taylor had suffered a momentary loss of consciousness after being thrown from the ATV.
A hospital security guard, along with Dominic, stood outside the door. Both nodded respectfully as Marcie and she went past into the room.
The sight of Taylor on the gurney was enough to make Roberta wince. His T-shirt and jeans, smeared with red dirt and what may have been dried blood, sat in a pile at the foot of the bed. Dried blood covered scratches on his face, neck, and arms. One shoulder sloped lower than the other, and the collarbone was clearly displaced under the hospital johnny. The painkiller-induced glaze in his eyes spoke to the lack of moaning and protest.
“Hey, Bertie!” Taylor called out, a little louder than needed in so small a room. His head lay slumped back on the cot. How could he even see her through the slits left by his drooping eyelids?
Roberta walked quickly to his side and took his free hand in her trembling palm. “Hey, what happened? Why didn’t you let the stunt double handle the hard stuff so he could be lying here in pain instead of you?” She smiled as best she could and brushed back a lock of dirt-smeared hair from his forehead.
“Aw, I didn’t need a hotdogger. I needed a firmer trail. It went all wrong. But I’m tough. Even my phone is all scratched up, but it still works!” he added, letting go of her hand to hold his phone aloft for inspection.
Roberta looked at Marcie, not understanding. “Hotdogger?”
“A stunt man is sometimes called a hotdog, or hotdogger. You know, like a skateboarder who does crazy tricks?” She shrugged.
Nodding her understanding, she turned back to the bed. “That’s great, Taylor. Why don’t you put your arm down and rest,” Roberta suggested.
Taylor waved his good arm, batting away her concern. “Don’t worry, it can’t be broken. I didn’t hear anything crunch. I’ll be out of here in no time.”
“Well, they have to see if the collarbone is broken first. Once that’s established, they can decide if the arm gets snapped back into place or needs a surgical adjustment,” Marcie informed them.
Both Taylor and Roberta winced at the word “snapped.”
“Laurel Lynn’s going to love handling yet another press episode.” Taylor’s forehead furrowed, and his eyes darkened.
Roberta cringed. “Can’t they keep this quiet?”
“Depends if anyone on set leaks it to the press.”
A man in a lab coat arrived, interrupting their discussion. “Mr. Reyd, the x-rays indicate your collarbone is displaced, as we suspected, but there is no sign of fracture in either the collarbone or the shoulder joint.”
