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“I’ll start stockpiling rope,” he assured her. “If you need me, you call, whatever time it is, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks. Can Gil have pizza with me?”
“Yes, he can. He has to get a statement from you anyway. Tell him I said so.”
She smiled. “I will. Take care.” She hung up and gave the phone back. “He says I have to give you a statement, so you can eat pizza while I’m doing it.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Awesome!”
She laughed and led the way to the kitchen. She put the pizza on the table, got down paper plates, and made coffee.
“This was so sweet of Jeff,” she commented when they’d gone through two slices apiece and were on their second cups of coffee.
“It was, wasn’t it?” he chuckled. “They make good pizza.”
“I wish I could . . .”
TheSherlocktelevision series theme blasted out in the kitchen from her phone. She looked at it with apprehension and grabbed it, fumbling for the answer button. “Meadow,” she said at once.
“Hi,” Dr. Clay said. “Just wanted to let you know that Snow’s conscious,” she said, laughing. “We’re going to keep her for a couple of days, but the prognosis just went from iffy to good.”
“Oh, thank God!” Meadow let out the breath she’d been holding. Tears streamed down her face. “Thank God! Thank you, too! I’ll never be able to thank you enough!”
“You’re very welcome.”
“I’ll come right over and write out a check . . .”
“Oh, Mr. Blake took care of that earlier this evening,” Dr. Clay said. “He was very concerned for Snow. He says he’s almost part owner. He must think a lot of her.”
Meadow was almost speechless. “She worries him to death,” she began.
Dr. Clay laughed. “He didn’t sound irritated, believe me. He was concerned, too.”
“It was . . . kind of him,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Can I come see Snow?”
“Whenever you want to.”
“I’ll finish up here and be right over!”
She told Gil the good news, beaming. Then she frowned. “Did you tell Dal about Snow?”
“Yes,” he said. “I wasn’t very happy about the way he treated you. I’m afraid I was less than courteous. I guess Jeff will fire me.”
“Never in a million years. Suppose I write out the statement and bring it to work in the morning?” she asked. “I really want to go see Snow.”
Just before he answered, his radio blared. He pressed the answer switch on the mobile microphone at his shoulder. “Go.”
The 911 operator’s voice came over the line. “Wreck with injuries, state highway near the Kangaroo at Raven Springs northbound.”
“On my way,” he replied. He turned to Meadow. “That blows my offer of a ride to the vet,” he said. “Have to go.”
“I’ll bring the statement in tomorrow. Did you get a blood sample from Jarvis?”
“Yes, I did, and he didn’t bite me.”
