Heller's Regret by JD Nixon

Author:JD Nixon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: relationships, security officer, adventures, chick lit

Chapter 17

I didn’t think they were doing it on purpose, but Farrell and I waited for another three hours before we were interviewed.

“Hugh, I need to lie down soon. I’m feeling a bit faint,” I told him. “I hurt my arm when Jaegar pushed me over. It’s so painful.”

“I’m taking you home,” he said immediately, standing up. He laid his hand on my forehead, which glistened with perspiration. “You’re very pale and heated. You haven’t had much water today.” He held my arm. “These wounds seem inflamed to me. We better get you to the doctor.”

“But we’re supposed to stay here on the scene.”

“Screw that. I’m tired of waiting and you need medical help.”

I tried to stand, but my legs collapsed under me. I would have crumpled to the floor if Farrell hadn’t caught me around my waist, guiding me back to the chair.

He looked over at the ladies at the counter. “Mrs Burwood, could you please bring over another chair.”

“Certainly.” She dashed around, carrying back a chair from another section.

“Could you also bring a cold glass of water?”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

Farrell made me lay across the chairs, my feet elevated on his lap. Handing me the water, Mrs Burwood somehow found a cloth to dampen to place across my forehead. She also brought out a small pillow she used during long meetings to support her lower back when it was playing up. I gulped big mouthfuls of water, not having realised how thirsty I was.

“Does that help?” Farrell asked gently.

“Yes, thank you,” I said with my eyes closed, wishing I were back at home in bed. But despite their kind efforts, I started feeling worse, my arm burning with pain. I couldn’t focus on anything except that sheer, unrelenting mountain of agony. It was all I could do not to groan aloud.

Farrell helped me to my unsteady feet just as one of the detectives came to get us.

“What’s the matter with her?” he enquired, his suit rumpled from the long day.

“She’s been very unwell lately,” Farrell told him. “And this waiting around all day is not helping the matter. I’m taking her back to her place. You can interview her there whenever you get around to it.”

“I’ll decide who goes and who stays. And nobody’s leaving until we finish our initial interviews. I don’t want to risk anyone else doing a runner on us.”

“And I don’t want to risk her health. She’s been seriously ill. Are you going to bully a sick woman or are you going to show some compassion?”

“I have a job to do,” he snapped. “I can’t be distracted by every sob story I’m given.”

“This is unbelievable,” Farrell muttered, preparing to square up to the man.

Not wanting him to get into trouble, especially with the cops, I spoke up. “Hugh, let’s just get it over and done with. The sooner we do, the sooner we can get home.”

“Listen to her. The woman speaks sense.”

“You can interview us at the same time,” Farrell insisted, helping me to my feet.

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