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“No. Why would Doc be with me? I left him at the house to scan you.”
“He did scan me, and now—”
“What’s wrong? Are you okay? The baby?”
“I’m fine. We’re fine, but Otto isn’t.”
“What?”
“He hit his head and lost consciousness.”
“How the fuck did he hit his head?”
“He misjudged how much head height he had.” I’m beingvery sketchy with the truth, but Danny doesn’t need details, this is an emergency, and I don’t want my plans to learn to drive ended before they’ve begun.
“Rose?”
I turn around and find Doc at the top of the stairs. “Never mind, I’ve found him.” I hang up and wave my hands frantically. “Otto’s hurt,” I tell him. “You need your bag.”
“My God.” He turns to go back to his room. “No rest for the wicked,” he grumbles. Never has a statement rang truer.
While Doc is gone, Danny calls me back. I answer and pace. “Never, and I mean never, hang up on me,” he warns.
Doc appears, hurrying down the stairs as fast as his old body will allow. “I’m here, I’m coming, I’m armed,” he sings.
“I’m sorry.” I flank Doc as we rush back out to the gardens. “I’ve got to go.”
“There are so many questions I want answered.”
“They’ll have to wait.” I take my chances and hang up again, needing to brief Doc on what’s happened. “He hit his head on the metal catch on the hood of Dolly.”
“What?” He looks at me in utter confusion.
“Beau’s car. Dolly. Then he passed out.”
“I see.”
We make it to them, and I’m surprised to see Otto sitting up, his scowl epic. “You came around,” I say, as Beau gives me a look that tells me to tread carefully.
“I’m fine,” he grunts, trying to get to his feet, wobbling.
“Let us not be smart,” Doc says, moving in as Otto gives up and drops like a rock to the ground. He checks Otto’s head. “Superficial,” he murmurs.
“Superficial?” I blurt. “I saw the blood. Not even any stiches?”
“No.” He squeezes a tube of liquid onto Otto’s head and starts wiping.
“I don’t like blood,” Otto grunts, making both Beau and I balk. He’s a killer, and he doesn’t like blood? “My own blood,” he adds quietly, looking up at us moodily. I’m forced to press my lips together, as is Beau, but I quickly look away from her.
Laughing could get us both killed. My cheeks balloon. I snort through my nose. It’s no good. I catch Beau’s eye and burst into fits of giggles, clenching my belly, my eyes streaming, my breathing ragged. “I’m sorry!” I blurt, hearing Beau snickering too. “I’m so sorry.”
Otto mumbles and grunts, shooing Doc’s dabbing hand away and forcing himself up to his feet, still a bit wobbly, and stomps off as best as his unstable body will allow. Oh no. “But we need help getting Dolly started,” I call, getting a dismissive wave of his hand in return.
“We don’t need him,” Beau says, chuckling over a few words as she dips and collects the cables, taking them and fixing them to something under the hood of Dolly so both cars are connected by the cables. Then she starts the Mercedes and gets behind the wheel of Dolly. “He’ll be back soon, anyway.”
“Why?” I ask. He looked about done with us.
“He forgot his car,” she says, just as Dolly roars to life and something under the hood of the Mercedes sparks. “Shit,” Beau yelps, flying back in her seat.
