Error in Judgment by D. C. Brod

Author:D. C. Brod [Brod, D. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781440533204
Publisher: Tyrus Books
Published: 1990-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE NURSE was fat and smelled like talcum powder. Embracing her would be like burying yourself in cool cotton. She reached up and squeezed a clear plastic bag filled with some liquid that was dripping into my body. She didn’t know she was being watched.

“What am I doing here?” I asked, my voice sounding cracked and foreign.

She started, but recovered quickly. Grasping my wrist with the fingers of her right hand and speaking to the second hand of her watch, she said, “It’s nice to have you back with us Mr. McCauley.”

“Where was I?” I asked, and that made her laugh.

She jotted something on a chart and gave me the briefest smile. “I’ll get the doctor,” she said and left before I realized that she hadn’t answered my question. Either one.

“I’m not waiting up for him,” I muttered. My mouth felt dry and gummy but the effort involved in getting a sip of water seemed insurmountable. Lying there, staring at the white ceiling, I decided this wasn’t the time to sort things out. I drifted back into sleep.

The next thing I was aware of was pain. My bones felt like I’d spent the last twenty-four hours being stretched on a rack and my head hurt with the ferocity of an unchecked hangover. I tried to recall what had put me here but kept coming up empty. Janet was constantly in my thoughts so I knew it had something to do with her. But figuring it out was like sitting down to the Sunday crossword puzzle and finding the clue for 7 Across was a fifteen letter word for an obscure Turkish expression meaning “have a nice day.” You might as well chuck the whole puzzle.

The light in the room was fading when I noticed Jeff Barlowe sitting in a blue plastic chair with his ankle crossed over his knee. At least I assumed it was Jeff. He was reading a copy of the Chronicle, which he held out in front of him so I could only see the hands gripping the paper. I couldn’t read the headlines either.

“Did I make the news?”

He dropped the paper to his lap, looked at me and smiled. “Hey. You’re back.” He stood and approached me, carefully folding the paper so that it fit under his arm. “So. How you doing?”

“I have no idea,” I said. Jeff shifted and jammed his fists into the pockets of his jeans. His gaze wandered to the IV, to the window then back to me. He reminded me of a kid who had wrecked the family car and didn’t know how to break the news to his dad.

“I don’t remember what happened,” I said.

Jeff released a sigh of resignation and ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, boy.”

I watched him for a few seconds. “Do I have to buy the paper?”

He shook his head, hesitated, then said, “It was a bomb blast. Practically leveled you.”

That didn’t trigger anything so I prodded. “What about Janet?”

“Yeah. She was there. It was her car.

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