“Reynolds,” he said. “Mahoney. Farri. Gee, those names look familiar.” He watched the buses rumble by on Jackson Boulevard. “Where did I just see them . . .”
His cup slipped from his hand.
“Honey, are you all right?” the waitress said, hurrying over with a rag and horrified expression. “That coffee’s scalding! Did you burn yourself?”
He had. He didn’t care.
“Tell me the fastest route to Naperville,” he said.
9:06 a.m.
“Big guy’s coming along,” Dr. Winslow assured as she bandaged Emily’s hip gash. She’d inspected the resident’s job, pronounced it sloppy, resutured. “He keeps asking to see you.”
“Can I?”
“Not yet,” Winslow said. “You’re going to rest here another hour. I’ll bring you coffee and a magazine. Hope you like Parents or Field & Stream. It’s all we’ve got these days-”
“Forget it, Barbara. I need to see Marty. And get to work.”
Winslow glared, and Emily knew resistance was futile. The good doctor wouldn’t think twice about locking the door to enforce her medical decisions.
“All right, you grouch,” Emily grumbled.
“I am rubber, you are glue,” Winslow said. “Besides, Marty’s got a knot on his head. I want to be sure his scans are clear before you visit.”
Emily nodded. “Any other injuries?”
“The usual for your merry band - burns, cuts, and bruises. Nothing serious, though.” Winslow pointed to the padded examination table. “All right, you know the drill.”
“You should buy me dinner, all the times you’ve seen me naked,” Emily grumped, lying back and opening her cotton gown.
Winslow snickered, began probing the scarred-over holes and cuts.
Emily yipped.
“Did that hurt?”
“Your hands are cold.”
“Sissy.”
Six probes and a cheek pinch later, Winslow told her to get dressed.
Emily reached for the bit-snug jeans Annie and Lydia Branch brought over. Her entire wardrobe was ash, so they’d cadged the manager at Lands’ End into a pre-hours shopping spree. The sizes were correct, but that didn’t mean much in women’s clothes - “ten” might mean eight, twelve, or maternity billowed.
Annie also included a Cylinder & Slide Glock 17 with holster, belt, and spare ammo. She didn’t trust Emily’s cooked equipment, and would lend from her custom armory “till you get to the toy store.” A fire marshal found Emily’s badge in a mud puddle. It was scorched and dented, but functional. She’d been tempted to accept Cross’s offer of a new badge, but decided she wanted this one instead.
“I’m really sorry about your house,” Winslow said, walking to the sink. “You and Marty worked so hard on it.” She had, too, spending more than a few nights with them bending conduit and taping Sheetrock. “Think you’ll rebuild?”
Emily’s eyes filled. Not with sadness, but fury. The devil who attacked her - and her man, and their home, and the savior tree - was going to meet a very nasty end. She’d promised herself that dangling from the limb, and intended to deliver.
“I don’t know, Barbara,” she said. “I really don’t. This is the second time; you know. It’s a great location and means so much to me. But maybe it’s jinxed beyond hope.”
“Evil spirits?”
“Something like that.”
Winslow nodded. “I get that. But don’t do anything rash. It’d be such a shame to feel driven out by that scum.” She washed, toweled, and wiped the sink. “If you decide to sell, let me know. I’ll buy it as an investment. You can buy it back if you ever change your mind.”
Emily thanked her profusely, then pointed to her scars. “Speaking of rash and scum . . .”
“Those look great,” Winslow said. “All healed up, and fading nicely. Is the one on the calf still bothering you? It bites back when I press.”
Emily thought about saying no, so the truth didn’t get to NPD’s medical board. But she wouldn’t lie to Barbara. The medium-tall brunette with the dusting of freckles and big, caring eyes was a friend as well as Edward Hospital’s chief of emergency medicine.
“Yes,” Emily said, feeling the tug when she flexed her foot. “It hurts when I do this.”
“Then don’t do that,” Winslow said.
Emily rolled her eyes. “I could have said that and I didn’t even go to medical school.”
“Me neither,” Winslow said. “I just like to stick needles in people.”
9:27 a.m.