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“Yes, it’s amazing. I’d like a liter of that wonderful drug, please. Maybe a bit more would send me floating right out the window.”
The nurse laughed. “A lot of people like it, too many like it too much. Now, you get some water, only a bit.” Savich held out his hand and she handed him a plastic cup of cool water with a flexible straw. He moved in close, held it to Sherlock’s mouth. She hesitated a moment before she sucked on the straw. She kept sucking until Nurse Marlow patted his shoulder. “That’s it for right now. You can have a bit more in fifteen minutes.”
Sherlock closed her eyes a moment. “Thank you.”
“Any nausea from the water?”
She opened her eyes, saw her nurse had a comfortable older face, kind eyes. “No nausea. Your name—Joan Marlow. Wasn’t she an actress?”
Joan grinned, patted her arm below a small bandage covering a cut. “Close. You can thank my parents, well, mainly my dad. Now, I promised to call Dr. Loomis when you were awake. She’s already downstairs, on rounds. She should be here shortly.”
“This is wonderful. I don’t feel any pain at all, but I don’t want to float anymore, I want to snuggle down and sleep for a year.”
Savich leaned down, lightly kissed her nose. “Don’t go to sleep yet, okay? Wait up for Dr. Loomis. See, you have a magic button to press whenever you want more painkiller.” He closed her hand around a small device, saw her fingers tighten around it, and smiled. He wouldn’t want to let it go, either.
“If someone tries to take it away, I’ll hurt them.” Was that still her own voice, sounding all low and easy?
She heard the nurse chuckle. “I don’t blame you.”
He was holding her hand, his flesh warm. She felt his fingers lightly touch her cheek. “Don’t worry about Sean. I told him last night we were hot on the trail of some bank robbers. I’m sure Gabriella embellished to make us sound really heroic.”
Such a mesmerizing voice, an actor’s voice, deep and resonant, but his words made no sense. She blinked, focused on his face, licked her lips. “Was I mugged?”
The nurse said quietly, “Don’t worry, the repetition isn’t uncommon with a concussion. She might ask this same question again until her brain sorts things out.”
And so he said, “No, you weren’t mugged, you were in a car accident,” and repeated what he’d told her before, adding, “I’m sorry, but your Volvo’s totaled. Do you remember anything that happened?”
Her Volvo was totaled? She saw a shocked face, wild fear, and then nothing. A door slammed shut in her mind and she felt trapped inside, something she didn’t understand. She could only lie there, helpless. “The woman who hit me, I saw her face for a moment. She was surprised, then afraid.” She paused, trying to bring it back, but no go. “I don’t remember anything else.”
“It’s all right. It’s amazing you remember that much. Your brain got slammed around even with the airbag. It will take a while to fill in the blanks.” Maybe she’d never remember the accident, which might be better.
She had to know, simply had to, but it was frightening to say the words. She whispered, “Why are you here?”
She watched him cock his head. “Where else would I be? You scared the bejesus out of me, out of a lot of people. Last night, nearly everyone in the unit was here, including Mr. Maitland. Don’t worry, I spoke to your parents and my mom last night, assured them you’re all right. And of course to Gabriella. I told Sean you and I were chasing bank robbers.” He didn’t mention the calls he’d gotten from the Post and the local TV stations. Videos of the spectacular accident and its aftermath had gone viral. The reporter from the Post said there were half a dozen on YouTube. Savich had referred all calls to the media liaison at the Hoover.
“Parents?”
He lightly patted her cheek. “Well, sure, no choice. They’re very worried, but I told them not to fly back, you’d be fine in a couple of days. They’ll probably call you later today. You slept through the night, even when the nurse came in to check on you. She was surprised you did and very pleased, said it was the best thing for you.”
She was silent, then slowly raised her vague summer-blue eyes to his face. It was time to spit it out, time to know, though she was afraid to say it out loud. But she had to know. She whispered, “When I first saw you last night, I thought you had beautiful eyes and awesome eyelashes. Looking at you made something stir in me, something familiar, comforting, but it faded away. I know you’re not a doctor, yet you were here with me whenever I was awake. You’re very handsome and kind and I love your voice. But here it is, I don’t know who you are. And who is Gabriella? Who is Sean?”
