'It's going to be okay, Jack. It's going to be okay.'
Not for Holly Fuller, I thought. And then it was getting too hard to keep my eyes open, so I went to sleep.
Chapter 22
When I woke up, Latham was holding my hand. He smiled at me.
'Hiya, sport. You got out of surgery an hour ago. Had two bullets removed from your abdominal wall.'
I looked around, took in all the standard hospital surroundings, and then went to sleep again.
The second time I awoke, Herb was there.
'Good morning, Jack. How you feeling?'
'Stomach hurts,' I said. Or tried to say. What came out was something that sounded like, 'S'hurt.'
'I'll have the doctor up your morphine.'
I shook my head and tried to say no.
'Thirsty?'
I nodded. Benedict poured me some water from a pitcher and held the glass. I took two sips, and two more sips dribbled down my face.
'Day?' I managed.
'Friday. You've been out about twenty-four hours.'
'Olly?'
Herb shook his head.
'Uller?'
'He's in recovery. I'll tell you more when you're feeling better.'
'Ell me.'
'This is how we figured it -- lemme know if it's right. Fuller was holding Holly around the neck. Did you know he had a gun?'
I shook my head.
'He had it pressed to her back, and tried to shoot you through his wife. The slugs ripped through her and got lodged in your stomach muscles. I guess it pays to do sit-ups.'
I grunted. It wasn't sit-ups. Holly's body slowed them down, so they didn't penetrate deep.
'Your round took off part of his head, above his right eye. Mostly skull. The docs picked bone splinters out of his brain for the better part of ten hours. Also, they found something else.'
'What?'
'Fuller had a brain tumor. About the size of a cherry. They removed that as well. He's in stable condition.'
I mumbled for more water, and we did the slurping/spilling thing again. A small voice whispered to me that I should have shot Fuller immediately, before he had a chance to kill his wife.
'Latham should be back any minute. Went on a burrito run. All of these flowers are from him.'
Herb made a grand, sweeping gesture, and for the first time I noticed all of the bouquets surrounding the bed, replete with stuffed animals and Mylar balloons.
'He hasn't left your side since you got here, Jack. He's like Lassie.'
'Case?' I asked. I wasn't up to talking about Latham.
'Airtight. We found a body in the back of Fuller's truck. She's wrapped in plastic, and his prints are all over her, not that it makes a difference at this point. The State's Attorney is making a case for the two other women, Eileen Hutton and Davi McCormick, plus the Andrewses.'
'Huh?'
'Oh, yeah. You didn't know. The dealer, and his mother. Both shot. Witnesses saw a large Caucasian man leaving the scene. Fuller was making so many mistakes, it's almost like he wanted to be caught.'
I took a deep breath, smelling rubbing alcohol and iodine. My arm itched where the IV was jabbed in, and I scratched the skin above the hole. My stomach hurt; not from the inside, like an ulcer, but from the outside, as if someone had kicked me. I pulled down my sheet and pulled my hospital gown to the side. Herb carefully examined his shoes, while I poked and prodded at the large gauze bandage taped to my lower body.
The poking made me realize how badly I needed to go to the bathroom, and I managed to sit up and plant my feet on the floor. The tile was cold.
'Where are you going?'
'Bathroom.'
'I don't know if you should.'
'You want to cup your hands and hold them next to my knees?'
Herb helped me into the bathroom.
When finished, I was a little dizzy, and held on to the sink until the room stopped twirling. The woman in the mirror looked like hell. Hair, a disaster. Face, scrubbed clean of makeup, letting age and exhaustion shine through.