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“Yeah.”
“Do you want me to call your mom?”
“No!”
Bridget jumps back in surprise.
“She’s going to want to fly here from Singapore,” I explain, “and it’s not necessary. I’ll tell her about it later.”
“Okay.”
She looks down. I want to put a comforting arm around her. Softening my tone, I ask her, “How are you doing?”
She meets my gaze. “Feeling lucky, I guess.”
“We’re all lucky. Where’s JD?”
“Right here,” JD replies from the other side of the curtain, which soon gets pulled aside by Amy. “Got out of the OR before you did, motherfucker.”
“Figures. You only got shot in the leg.”
“Only?” He points to the bandages around his head. “Had one graze me near my fucking head. Doc said if it was just an inch over, I’d be blind or dead.”
I notice Amy turning white.
“You had anything to eat?” I ask Bridget.
She shakes her head.
“What time is it?”
“Little after two.”
“And you haven’t eaten? Go get something to eat.”
“Where? The cafeteria isn’t open at this hour.”
“There’s a late-night noodle place in Chinatown,” JD says. “My driver knows. Get me a bowl of roasted beef noodle soup.”
I’m not hungry, but I tell Bridget to get me the same just so she’ll leave and take Amy with her.
After the women are gone, JD says, “I’ll text Trawley he can come in now.”
“Can you believe it?” I muse aloud. “The women weren’t hit at all.”
“Amy’s totally shaken up,” JD says. “She thinks my whole family should be here comforting me and shit.”
Sergeant Trawley, a man in his thirties but already balding, walks in and closes the door behind him. “You are two lucky bastards.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Actually, we’re all lucky the women weren’t hurt. Otherwise, I’d have their families up my ass.”
“You don’t have to worry about ours.”
Trawley nods. “The fewer people involved, the lower the profile this case gets. Best if we can pass this off as a random drive-by.”
“It wasn’t random,” I say. “The car pulled up with deliberation. The gun was aimed at us.”
