Digging Up Trouble

“Ach.”

“Now Ursula,” Mr. Cabrera tried to soothe.

“Ach,” she boomed.

He shut up.

Mrs. Warnicke had recently died of a heart attack after waking to find a burglar in her house. I wondered if Boom-Boom knew that. Some people might get spooked by living in a place where someone had recently died.

I knew I would.

Ana squeezed my hand. “Seems Boom-Boom and Riley had a head-on collision.”

Digging Up Trouble

27

My gaze whipped to Kevin. He was sitting on Riley’s empty bed and looked as though he were enjoying the play-by-play between Mr. Cabrera and Brickhouse. “And he only has a broken wrist?” I asked. “Are they sure?”

“Riley had his helmet on—”

Thank God.

“—and thankfully, Mrs. Vhrooman—”

“Boom-Boom, please,” she cut in.

Kevin’s mouth twitched. “Boom-Boom was driving a golf cart.”

“It’s actually not a golf cart,” Boom-Boom supplied. “It’s a motorized vehicle. Helps me get around. Bad heart, you know.” She thumped her huge chest for emphasis.

I didn’t think a woman with a bad heart should be hanging around Mr. Cabrera but kept that thought to myself. However, I noticed a small smile curved Mrs. Krauss’s lips. Apparently she’d had the same thought and was pleased by her conclusion.

A kind-looking nurse stuck her head through the doorway.

She was awfully pretty, with long, slightly curly hair, big brown eyes, and a warm smile. Her name badge read megan little, rn. I checked to see if Kevin was checking her out.

He wasn’t.

It made me feel marginally better.

“Mrs. Krauss,” Megan Little, RN, said, “there you are.

Your daughter is worried sick trying to find you. Come with me.”

Brickhouse looked like she was going to argue, but just arched an eyebrow at Mr. Cabrera, turned, and dragged her IV pole out the door.

“Is she really sick?” Mr. Cabrera asked me. “There is that nasty flu bug going around.”

“She’ll be fine.” No one that mean could stay down long.

“You could go be with her,” I suggested.

28

Heather Webber

Boom-Boom pouted.

Mr. Cabrera shook his head. “Nah. She broke up with me.

I’m not gonna go crawlin’ back.”

I silently added Again. Honestly, he had put up with a lot from her. Though I had to admit, I’d never seen him happier than when he was with her.

And she did have a somewhat valid reason for breaking up with him. I couldn’t imagine it was easy to live with certain death hanging over your head.

Someone coughed from the doorway. I turned and saw a handsome man, early forties, big blue eyes, bright white teeth, standing there wearing a lab coat. A stethoscope hung around his neck. Ana perked up.

“Doctor,” she said, abandoning my hand to rush over to him, “is Riley okay?”

“Coming through,” someone said from the hallway.

Ana and Dr. Feelgood parted, allowing Riley, being pushed in a wheelchair, to enter. He hopped out of the wheelchair and onto the edge of the bed, his legs swinging.

The doctor patted Ana’s hand and smiled at her. “Fine.

The X rays showed no breaks at all.” He looked at Riley.

“With a sprain this severe, however, it’s best you keep it easy for a few days. No skateboarding.”

Riley’s dark blue eyes went wide. “What about work?”

“What do you do?” Dr. Feelgood asked him.

“I work at Growl. Sometimes the register, sometimes with food prep.”