“Ten stitches,” the doctor added as he secured the bandage. “No apparent muscle damage, some blood loss but nothing major. To quote the Duke, it’s just a scratch.”
“The guy had a goddamn butcher knife,” Ben muttered, annoyed at having someone else downplay his injury.
“Fortunately,” John went on as he turned to the tray beside him, “the detective’s jacket and fancy footwork prevented the wound from being any deeper. Without it, we’d have been stitching up both sides of his arm. This will sting a bit.”
“What will?” Automatically Ben shot out a hand to grab the doctor’s wrist.
“Just a little tetanus shot,” John said soothingly. “After all, we don’t know where that knife has been. Come on now, bite the bullet.”
He started to protest again, but Tess took his hand. The sting in his arm came, then dulled.
“There now.” John left the tray for a nurse to deal with. “That ties things up. Forgive the pun. No tennis or sumo wrestling for a couple of weeks, Detective. Keep the area dry and come back for a return visit the end of next week. I’ll yank those stitches out for you.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“Your good health and medical insurance are thanks enough. Nice seeing you, Tess. Give me a call the next time you’re in the mood for said and sea urchin.”
“Bye, John.”
“John, huh?” Ben eased himself off the table. “Did you ever date anyone but doctors?”
“Whatever for?” A light answer seemed best when she’d spotted the blood-soaked linen on the tray. “Here’s your shirt. Let me help you.”
“I can do it.” But his arm was stiff and painful. He managed one sleeve.
“It’s all right. You’re entitled to be cranky after ten stitches.”
“Cranky?” He shut his eyes as she eased his shirt on. “Jesus Christ. Four-year-olds are cranky if they don’t have a nap.”
“Yes, I know. Here, I’ll button it.” She intended to. She told herself she would button his shirt, keep the conversation brisk. She’d nearly done two before she dropped her forehead on his chest.
“Tess?” He brought his hand to her hair. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” She drew herself away and with her head bent finished buttoning his shirt.
“Tess.” With a hand under her chin, he lifted her face. Tears swam in her eyes. He brushed one from her lashes with his thumb. “Don’t.”
“I’m not going to.” But her breath hitched before she pressed her cheek to his. “Just a minute, okay?”
“Yeah.” He put his good arm around her and absorbed the basic pleasure of being cared about. Some women had been turned on by his job, others repulsed by it, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever had anyone who just cared.
“I was scared,” she admitted, her voice muffled against him. Me too.
“Later, will you tell me about it?”
“If I have to. A guy hates to admit to his woman that he was a jerk.”
“Were you?”
“I was sure the little sonofabitch was inside. Ed had the window, I had the door. Very simple.” When he drew away, he saw her gaze go to his ripped and bloodstained shirt. “You think this is bad, you should see my jacket. I just bought it two months ago.”
In control again, she took his arm and led him down the hall. “Well, maybe Santa will bring you a new one for Christmas. Do you want me to drive you home?”
“No, thanks. I’ve got a report to file. And if the other kid hasn’t spilled his guts by now, I want to be in on the interrogation.”
“So there were two.”
“There’s only one now.”
She thought of the shrouded figure on the gurney. Because she could smell the dried blood on Ben’s shirt, Tess said nothing. “There’s Ed.”
“Oh, God, he’s reading.”
Ed glanced up, gave his partner a quick but very thorough study, then smiled at Tess. “Hi, Dr. Court. I must have missed you when you came in.” He didn’t mention the fact that when she’d arrived, he’d been donating a pint of blood. Both he and Ben were A Positive. Setting the magazine aside, he gave Ben his jacket and hol ster. “Too bad about the coat. It should only take the department till April to process the papers and replace it.”
“Ain’t it the truth?” With Ed’s help Ben managed to heft on his holster and the damaged jacket.
“You know, I just read this fascinating article about kidneys.”
“Save it,” Ben advised, and turned to Tess. “You going back to the clinic?”
“Yes, I left in the middle of a session.” It wasn’t until that moment that Tess fully realized she had put him ahead of a patient. “Speaking as a doctor, I’d advise you to go home and rest after you’ve filed your report. I’ll be home around six-thirty, and could probably be persuaded to pamper you.”
“Define pamper.”
Ignoring him, she turned to Ed. “Why don’t you come to dinner, Ed?”
Initially he looked perplexed by the invitation, then pleased. “Well, I-Thanks.”
“Ed’s not used to articulating to women. Come on over, Ed. Tess’ll fix you bean curds.” He stepped outside, grateful for the rush of cold air. His arm was no longer numb, but beginning to throb like a toothache. “Where are you parked?” He was already scanning the lot for the black and white.
“Just over there.”
“Walk the lady to her car, will you, Ed?” Taking her by the front of her coat, he kissed her hard. “Thanks for coming by.”
“You’re welcome.”
She waited until he’d started toward the Mustang before she turned with Ed. “You’ll look out for him?”
“Sure.”
Digging her keys out of her pocket, she nodded. “The man who stabbed Ben is dead?”
“Yeah.” He took the keys from her, and in a gesture she found sweet, unlocked the car himself. Tess looked at his face and saw, as clearly as if he’d spoken, who had fired the shot. Her values, the code she lived by, warred briefly with a new awareness. Putting a hand on his collar, she drew him down and kissed him. “Thanks for keeping him alive.” She got in the car, smiling up at him before she shut the door. “See you at dinner.”
Half in love with her himself, Ed walked back to his partner. “You don’t go
Ben shook off grogginess as Ed slammed the car door. “What?”
“And you shouldn’t need her Uncle Joe to punch you in the ribs.” Ed started the engine with a roar.
“Ed, did you get a bad piece of granola?”
“You better start looking at what’s in front of your face, partner, before you end up tripping over the saw.”
“Saw? What saw?”
“Farmer’s sawing wood,” Ed began as he drove off the lot. “City slicker’s watching him. Dinner bell rings and the farmer starts moving but he trips over the saw. He just picks himself up and starts cutting wood again. Slicker asks him why he doesn’t go in to dinner and the farmer says, since he tripped over the saw, it’s no use going in. There won’t be anything left.”
Ben sat in silence for a full ten seconds. “That explains it. Why don’t you turn back around, we’ll go into the hospital and have them take a look at you?”
“The point is, if you fuck around when opportunity is staring you in the face, you miss it. You got a hell of a woman, Ben.”
“I think I know that.”
“Then you better be damn careful you don’t trip over the saw.”
Chapter 16
