“The truth. There was no reason not to. I think somehow Marlin Jones had to have sent him. He tried not to be too interested in Marlin, but he was. He wanted me to believe Marlin was innocent.”
“You sure about that?”
“Yes, but again, I think his mission was to scare me to death, scare me enough to make me run. Then he said business was over. He said he wanted to rape me.”
Her eyes were vague, her voice slowing down, her words slurring. He shook her shoulders. “Sherlock, wake up. Come on, you can do it.” He lightly slapped her cheek, then cupped her jaw in the palm of his hand. “Wake up.”
She blinked, trying hard. She wanted to tell him that his hand on her jaw hurt, but all she said was, “Probably a concussion. I’ll stay awake, I promise. He was going to tie my hands above my head, to the slats of the bed, but he knew I’d attack if he dropped the gun, so he told me to lie on my stomach. I couldn’t do that, Dillon, I just couldn’t. That’s when—” Curtains, black curtains were swinging down over her eyes, over her mind. She couldn’t see anything.
“Wake up, Sherlock!”
“I’m awake. Don’t yell at me, it hurts. I won’t konk out on you, I promise. But I can’t see.”
“Your eyes are closed.”
“That’s not it.”
In the next moment, she was unconscious, her head lolling to the side. He’d never dialed 911 so fast in his life.
21
THE HEAT burned straight into her head. It was hotter than anything she could have imagined. Any second now she’d go up in flames. No, it was a light, a real light, not some monster that her brain had dredged up. It was too bright, too strong, too hot. It burned beneath her eyelids. She tried to turn away from the light, but it hurt too much to move her head.
“Sherlock? Can you hear me? Open your eyes.”
Of course she could hear him. He was using that deep voice of his that made her nerve endings quiver, but she couldn’t say anything, her mouth was too dry. She tried to form the words, but no sound came out.
A woman said, “Give her some water.”
Someone raised her head. She felt cold water on her lips and opened her mouth. She choked, then slowed down. She drank and drank until finally the water was dribbling down her chin.
“Now can you talk to me?”
“The light,” she whispered. “Please, the light.”
The same woman’s voice said, “It must be hurting her.”
The light was gone in the next instant and it was now shadowy and dim. She sighed with relief. “That’s better. Where’s Dillon?”
“I’m right here. You scared me out of a good year at the gym. We were both doing just fine until you had the nerve to pass out on me.”
“I didn’t mean to do that. It was weak and unnecessary. I’m sorry. Does my health coverage take care of the paramedics and the emergency room?”
“I doubt it. I think it will come out of your pay. Now, here’s Dr. Breaker. He got to your house just as the paramedics were pulling out, claims he was speeding to get there. Turns out he has admitting privileges here at Washington Memorial.”
“Your voice made me quiver—all dark and soft, like falling into a deep, deep well. If I were a criminal, I’d say anything you wanted to keep you talking to me like that. It’s a wonderful voice. Plummy—that’s how a writer would describe your voice.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“Agent Sherlock. I’m Dr. Breaker.”
He shined a penlight in her eyes, felt the bumps on her head, and said over his shoulder to Dillon, “She’s not going to need any stitches, just some of my magic tape. Scalp wounds tend to really bleed.”
“They bleed like stink.”
“Yes, that’s right. Interesting way of saying it.”
“It’s what the man said. And he said it in a southern way. He drawled out stink into two syllables.”
She’d already told him that, but he said, “That’s good, Sherlock. Anything else?”
“Not just yet, Savich. Hold off a bit. Let me clean her up, then you can talk her ear off.” He cleared his throat. “She wasn’t raped, was she?”
“No, I wasn’t. I’m not dead, Dr. Breaker. You can speak to me.”
“Well, you see, Agent, I owe everything to Savich here and nothing at all to you. If he wants me to report to him, he’s got it.”
“I report to him. You report to him. Soon the president will report to him. Maybe that’s not such a bad idea. My head hurts.”
“I’ll just bet it does. Lie still now. When you first came in, we did a CT scan. Not to worry, it was normal. We always do a CT scan when there’s a head injury, to check for evidence of bleeding. You didn’t have any. What happened to your arm? What’s this sling for?”