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Her aim was true. She didn’t miss.
* * *
She was aware that someone was picking her up. Someone strong and large who smelled faintly of stale booze. The next time she woke up was in the midst of commotion, bright lights, and unbelievable pain.
“We’re going to operate,” someone said. “We’ve got to get the bullet out. Can you hear me?”
With difficulty, she opened her eyes, tried to match people to voices.
“No,” said a familiar voice. “I think we ought to keep her sedated until she arrives in Ohio.”
Frank. She struggled to open her eyes but then slipped back under.
Just as well.
* * *
“Anabelle!”
She was so tired.
“Honey, it’s time to rise and shine!”
No mistaking that voice.
She forced herself to open her eyes through the layers of fog, but it was bright, so bright that she squeezed them closed again. Her head hurt, and she thought she might be sick to her stomach.
“That’s my girl,” her mother said. “Come on, try again.”
She pushed herself into a semi-sitting position. Her mom was sitting in a chair next to her bed. She was surrounded by beeping monitors. A mounted TV was showing a game show. A little light came in through a narrow window.
“You’re in the hospital,” her mom said. “You were mugged, honey.” The cheer in her voice sounded strained.
She tried to look down at her shoulder, but the motion proved costly. A new, sharper pain made her hiss and then left behind a thudding ache.
“Mugged,” she repeated. She remembered the dark house, the pager, Dasha’s husband being her mark. Her shoulder hurt because he’d shot her, and then she’d killed him. So why was her mother here?
She moved her neck a little, experimentally, then tried to move other parts of her body that weren’t bandaged. Everything hurt with a dull ache, and she wondered what painkiller they had given her to make the pain bearable.
“Where’s Helen?” she croaked.
“Who?” Patty asked.
“My friend Helen,” she said. “My…my landlord.”
“Honey.” Her mom reached for the plastic remote next to her on the bed and pushed a red button. “We’re in Toledo.”
“What?” She tried to sit up more and, groaning, gave up.
“Calm down, Annie. Calm down. Don’t you remember? Your Mr.Clifton had you brought here so I could look after you while you recovered,” her mother said. “Where is that nurse?”
“Frank Clifton?” Annie asked, tears filling her eyes.
“Yes. He explained to us what happened. How he came out to LA to talk about giving you back your job, the mugging, how he saved your life. I’m glad you decided to go back to work, Annie, but I don’t understand why you never tell us anything! Your daddy was so mad... Oh, here she is.”
A woman in pink scrubs entered the room and smiled at her. “Well, well, well. Lookie who decided to rejoin the world of the livin’!”
The nurse checked her vitals, asked her a few questions, and then told her that the doctor would be by in a while.
