Absolute Zero

“A”

“M”

“Y” Amy’s voice was barely audible. The hot yellow eyes clamped shut.

“What?” blurted Jolene, “Amy? Her?”

“Shhh, new word,” Broker said.

“F”

“A”

“U”

“L”

“T”

Hank shut his eyes. Sweat popped on his forehead, pooled in the wrinkles under his eyes, and dripped down his cheeks.

“What are you two doing? Leave him alone,” Jolene said, moving forward, as she picked up a towel from the bedside table and mopped his face and chin. “He’s exhausted.” She threw down the towel, spun, and confronted Amy. “He means you?”

Amy nodded.

“How does he know your name? Just who the fuck are you?” The question was directed at Amy but Jolene’s eyes were suspiciously fixed on Broker.

Gently, Broker took Jolene by the shoulders and moved her aside. “New word,” he said softly.

“N,” Amy said.

His concentration was shattered and he lost track of the letters, but he knew what he wanted to say. Not Amy and not the other nurse. Allen, he wanted to say. And Earl for Stovall. Fatigue was centrifugal, dragging his eyes back into loopy orbits. He had to fight it. Had to keep going. Where was he? Amy’s finger had moved to the last group.

“U,” Amy said.

Broker watched Hank’s eyes tremble, yielding to spasm. He reached out and to steady Hank’s shoulder and felt the loose, wasted muscles and wished he could infuse strength through his own arm.

“R,” Amy said.

“S”

“E”

He was lost, utterly spent and lost. He tried to blink sweat from his eyes and his lids stuck together, and when his eyes opened he was back on the Wild Mouse, his eyeballs rolling and lurching in their sockets. Then oblivion.

Jolene stood back, her arms folded, her mind winding out. Hank could blink-talk. Wonderful. And all these days they’d been talking in front of him. He’d obviously overheard Earl and her arguing about what happened to Stovall. So he thought she was in on it. It would sure look that way. She’d needed the money and Earl went to try and get it for her.

Killers, he’d said.

Plural.

Two killers.

If this blink business continued, he was going to implicate her, along with Earl, in a murder. And she thought fervidly, Hank, honey; I’m really trying to do it your way, I really am-but if you keep this up I’ll never get the chance.

Jolene was so absorbed that she momentarily forgot the Amy-Broker show going on at the foot of Hank’s bed. They huddled over the brief message printed at the bottom of the sheet of printer paper. KILLERS-NOT AMY FAULT-NURSE, it said.

“Nurse? Nancy Ward’s the only other nurse. .” Amy puzzled.

Broker tried to remember the tired, dark-haired recovery-room nurse in Ely. “Could he mean. .?”

Amy squinted at Broker, heaved her shoulders. “Killers? I don’t know.”

“Is he trying to say. . the other nurse somehow. .?” Broker said.

“Deliberately?” Amy whispered. “She’s still working. I took some leave. But she needs the money.” Amy paused, Broker caught her hesitation, and they both looked up.

Jolene regarded them through wary eyes, arms still crossed. “What’s the deal, guys? I feel kind of left out.”

Broker said, “We were just thinking: what if there’s a possibility what happened to Hank wasn’t an accident.”

“We,” Jolene said, pointing first to Broker, then to Amy. “Who the fuck is she?”

Amy stepped forward and Broker held up a cautioning hand. But Amy waved him off and squared her shoulders. “Mrs. Sommer-Jolene-I’m Amy Skoda. I was the anesthetist who attended Hank during and after surgery in Ely.”

“Uh-huh,” Jolene unfolded her arms, recrossed them, and folded them tighter. “Let me get this straight, honey. I’m suing you, right?”

Amy bit her lower lip, nodded.

“Okay,” Jolene said, swinging her eyes to Broker. “And you two know each other from up north?”

“That’s right,” Broker said.

“And you came down together?”

“Yeah,” Broker said.

“In Hank’s truck?”

“Right again.”

“And you’ve been staying together at the ostrich farm, huh?”

Amy spoke up quickly. “It’s not like that.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Jolene’s eyes briefly thrashed Broker, moved back to Amy. “So what’s this deliberate stuff about?”

Broker shrugged. “What if the nurse in the recovery room acted with intent when she turned off the monitor. Hank might have seen her do or say something. .”

Hope gripped Jolene and untied the knot of her crossed arms. Freed, they floated up; her hands opened, questioning: “But he said ‘killers,’ like more than one?”

“He’s not exactly dotting all his i’s, is he?” Amy said.

Jolene speculated on this new option for a few beats. She smiled sweetly at Broker. “You’re a regular Crusader Rabbit. First you send Earl packing. Now you’re trying to clear her?”

“Hey, Jolene, c’mon,” Broker protested.

“No, this is good. So, what happens if I pick up the phone and call my lawyer.”

“I’m in a lot of trouble,” Amy said.

“Let me think a minute,” Jolene said.

Arms folded across her chest again, she paced across the room; the room in the big house that wouldn’t be hers anymore if Hank got down to serious testifying.

Okay, what Jolene knew was this: The legal system in America was based on the presumption of innocence. And the American criminal system was based on the principle that if you don’t have a witness you don’t have a crime.

So. This Amy was gaga with authorship; she had “discovered” Hank. And she and Broker were cooking up a theory about a nurse in Ely.

When the idea hit Jolene, it was better than the movies. First, she needed time. She needed to get Hank and these two isolated from cops and lawyers until she figured out how to put Hank out of commission. Keep him breathing but not blinking. And for that she needed Earl, broken arm and all. And since Broker and his natural pale blonde were getting off on playing detective so much-why not rev them up?

“This nurse,” Jolene said. “Are you sure she’s up there working?”

“Pretty sure,” Amy said.