Digging Up Trouble

He nodded to me. “Why aren’t you driving?”

Why wasn’t I?

“Oh,” Tam said, “she’s in no condition to drive.”

“You been drinking, ma’am?”

Ma’am. Hmmph. “Me? No!”

“Painkillers,” Tam whispered. “Back problems.”

“Oh.”

“Oooooh,” Tam cried, holding her stomach.

“I’m going to call EMS,” the officer said.

“No, no. I hate ambulances. I can make it . . . if we hurry.”

The back of her head was to me, but I could imagine her blinking her beautiful blue eyes at him.

Digging Up Trouble

21

“Ma’am, I can’t let you do that.”

I lurched forward as Tam stepped on the gas. My jaw dropped open as I looked at her.

She smiled wide, a twinkle in her eye.

“You’re insane!” I cried.

“Where’s your sense of fun?” she asked, still grinning.

“Not here, that’s for sure!” I peered around my headrest, looking out the back window. The officer had jumped in his car and was closing in fast. Oh God.

Sirens filled the air as he pulled in front of us, leading the way.

Tam said, “See?” and stepped on the gas.

“I didn’t know you were such a good liar.” I’d stopped shaking, but my heart was now beating in my throat.

“We all have our talents.”

We made it to the hospital in less than five minutes. Tam parked the car under the emergency room portico and Officer Nice Guy helped her inside.

“Go, go,” she told me, waving me off as a gurney appeared out of nowhere. The officer must have called ahead.

I ran up to the desk on wobbly legs. “Riley Quinn,” I said.

The woman barely looked up. “And you are?”

“His mother,” I lied. I didn’t know if they’d let me in otherwise.

Behind the counter, she rolled her eyes. “Biggest family I ever saw. Go through those double doors, take a left at the green doors, a right through the red doors, then follow the blue line until you get to the nurses’ station. Someone there will help you.”

Green, red, blue, I repeated, trying to remember what she’d said as I pushed through the double doors.

My nose scrunched at the hated hospital smell. Not my favorite scent, that blend of antiseptic and illness.

22

Heather Webber

A handrail lined one wall and a rainbow of colors deco-rated the floor. Looked like a class of preschoolers had had their way with a box of crayons.

I came to a set of yellow doors.

Yellow?

Red, green, blue. Green, red, blue? Blue, green, red?

No yellow at all! Oh no!

“Riley,” I whispered loudly as I passed open doorways.

What was it about hospitals and nursing homes? Why couldn’t I pass a room without looking in? So far all I’d seen were two empty beds and a storage closet.

“Riley?” I whispered louder.

“Shhh!” someone said from within one of the rooms.

“Trying to watch Price Is Right! ”

“Sorry!”

I came to a set of green doors and decided to try my luck.