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Calvin was positively grim-faced, mouth and jaw taut. “I was hoping you could tell me that.” He handed me my phone in its wallet case. “I found this on the landing. Good thing you keep your phone in that case — it looks like it survived the fall.”
“Better than I did.” I put my hand up to my head, which was pounding like the demons that lived in these walls. Near the back of my skull was a tender spot, probably the beginning of a lump. Still, I knew I’d been very, very lucky. “What are you doing here?”
His mouth tightened even further. “I was worried about you, but I knew you’d be annoyed with me if I just showed up here without being asked. Still, I had a bad feeling about the whole thing, so I started listening to my police scanner.”
I didn’t bother to ask why he had a police scanner at his house — it probably made sense for him to be able to stay on top of things even when he wasn’t physically at the station. “And?”
“And I heard that Father Neil had a car accident on his way over here. Someone T-boned him as he was crossing Highway 60.”
Shock flared through me. “Is he okay?”
Calvin nodded. “He’s got a couple of cracked ribs and a concussion, but it’s nothing life-threatening. They’re keeping him in the hospital overnight for observation.”
No wonder he’d never showed up. And thank the Goddess that he’d be okay. “Did they catch who hit him?”
“No. The person driving the other car abandoned the vehicle and fled on foot. And the car had been reported stolen just a few hours earlier, so there’s no way to connect it to the driver. They’re checking for fingerprints, just in case, but it doesn’t look good.”
My head was swimming, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t just because of the tumble I’d taken a while earlier. “Do you think he was hit on purpose?”
Still looking grim, Calvin shook his head. “It’s way too early to know that. A perp fleeing the scene of an accident isn’t that unusual. With any luck, Henry Lewis and his people will track him down.”
I didn’t respond. While Chief Lewis and I were far from friends, I couldn’t argue that he seemed to be competent. And since the accident had happened squarely in Globe, there was no question of Calvin being involved with the case at all.
“Can you stand?” he asked next. “I want to get you out of here.”
My head ached, and I had a feeling I was going to be covered in bruises, but it didn’t feel as if I’d suffered anything except superficial injuries. “I think so.”
With Calvin’s strong arm supporting me, I laboriously got to my feet. For just a second, the room swam around me, and I clung to him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his grip on me tightening a bit, as if he was worried I might collapse without him to brace me.
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “Just a little dizzy.”
“You might have a mild concussion,” Calvin said. “Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”
“No,” I said, then tried to smile so my protest didn’t sound quite so flat. “I just want to go home. I’m sure I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”
“Any blurred vision?”
“No,” I replied. “I think I just got up too quickly.”
He sent me a dubious look but didn’t say anything else, only helped me cross the foyer to the front door and out onto the porch. Once we were outside, I dug the key to the door out of my pocket and handed it to him, and he locked up for me.
“You can leave your car here for the night,” he said as we made our way to his big white Durango, parked not too far from my VW Beetle. “I’ll come back with you tomorrow to get it.”
“That’s not necessary — ”I began, but he shook his head.
“You shouldn’t be driving. And you know the car will be perfectly safe here.”
Since the demons’ rampages had been restricted to the interior of the house, I had to admit he was probably right on that point. “Okay,” I said meekly.
He helped me up into the passenger seat and then went around the front so he could slide behind the wheel. We drove in silence for a few minutes before he said, “You really shouldn’t have gone in there by yourself.”
“I know,” I replied. “It was a stupid thing to do. I was just feeling so…frustrated. I wanted to feel as if I was accomplishing something. All I accomplished was to get pushed down the stairs.”
That remark made him swivel his head toward me, dark eyes wide with worry and something else, something that looked like blazing fury. “Someone pushed you?”
“I — ”I paused there, remembering that I wasn’t just talking to my boyfriend, but to the man who was the head of the San Ramon tribal police. True, this wasn’t his jurisdiction, although, judging by the flash of anger I’d seen in his face, I had a feeling he didn’t care much about such niceties when his significant other was involved. “I don’t know,” I said lamely. “I lost my balance and fell. I think maybe I bumped my shoulder against the bannister and it just felt like someone pushing me.”
