“I knew there was something wrong with you from the moment we met,” Susan laughed, her voice soft, “No one in their right mind drinks coffee black.”
David chuckled, flinching as the sound echoed in his hollow brain. “I’m glad you’re here,” he managed closing his eyes for a moment as he rested his head against the upright bed.
“If you’ll grab my pants,” he pointed toward the chair beside the bed. “I’ll write down the address of my friend, and you can take that glass we found to him. We need to find out what kind of car it is from.”
“You still have it?” Susan hurried to the chinos draped over the chair.
“Why wouldn’t I?” David bit into the moist muffin sighing with pleasure at the warm rich punch of orange and the tart tang of cranberry.
Susan looked up meeting the man’s soft brown eyes. “I got a call from a police officer today. He asked if I knew anyone who would want to hurt you.”
“Me? Why?”
Susan peeled back the flap of the cargo pocket and pulled the bits of red glass out opening her hand where they sparkled in the morning sun.
“You can’t think of someone would try to kill me for those,” David shook his head, and then stopped as a wave of pain slammed into his skull. “Besides,” he said more quietly. “We were the only two people up there.”
“None of this makes sense,” Susan slipped the shards into her handbag turning to the window to study the parked cars below. “I’ve been trying to figure out how those horses ended up on the mountain all those years ago, and you have been trying to uncover what happened to your grandfather. Why would someone suddenly be worried about us continuing the investigation?”
David opened his eyes, his gaze colliding with Susan’s bright blue orbs. “We must be missing something,” he suggested. “Between us there must be something that will point us to the answers we both so desperately seek.”
“But what?” Susan could feel the frustration spark in her words. “I’ve been over and over the story a thousand times.”
“I need my journal,” David pushed himself up in the bed, turning to look at Susan. “It’s in my truck, do you think you could get it?”
“Where’s your truck?”
“I think it’s at the police impound lot.”
Susan pulled her phone from her pocket and searched for the number. “Write me a note, so I can go in and get your belongings. Is there anything else you need?”
“Not really.” David’s head was pounding again. “Bring the journal back, and we’ll go through it together.” He hated asking for help, but he knew there was no way around it. “Do you have paper and pencil?”
Together they scanned the room looking for something to write with, but saw nothing.
“We’ll ask at the nurses’ station.” David threw back the covers slipping out of bed on bright yellow socks. “I’m sure they will have something and one of them can witness the signing, so you won’t have any trouble at the station.”
Susan bit her bottom lip, trying not to laugh as the man tottered toward the door, his yellow socks, looking like duck feet, but what really made her laugh was the four leaf clover boxer shorts peeking out between the loosely tied flaps of the hospital gown.
Hurrying to keep up and trying her hardest not to laugh, Susan couldn’t help but notice the man had very nice legs, and a rather cute tush, not that she was looking of course.
A moment later they stood at the counter where a pretty young nurse in a floral print uniform handed them a pen and paper.
David wrote a hasty note, and then handed it to Susan to read before asking the nurse to witness it.
“That should do,” he said. “Bring the journal back as soon as you can,” he leaned heavily against the counter, his head spinning. “We’ll go through every entry until something pops out at us.”
Susan nodded her eyes still bright with unshed mirth. “See you soon,” she grinned hurrying toward the elevator.
David watched the young woman hasten away, wondering what she was grinning about. This whole situation had suddenly gotten far too serious.
“Can I help you back to your room?” the nurse asked walking around the counter and stepping up to David. “Oh, and you might want me to tie this,” she added tugging his gown together.
David’s face flamed as he peered down the hall, catching Susan Holmes peals of laughter as she disappeared into the elevator.
Susan followed the uniformed police officer around the side of the building, and through a small gate that led into the impound yard. “Is that it?” she gasped looking at the mangled remains of the old truck.
“Your boyfriend was mighty lucky,” the officer drawled. “It could have been much worse.”
“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” Susan felt the blush, but still couldn’t comprehend the mess she was looking at. The driver’s side of the truck had taken the major impact, moving the whole front axle over at least six inches.
“Either way he’s lucky. Just holler when you’re done.” The large man waved heading back into the air conditioned building.
Susan headed to the passenger side of the truck and yanked the door open crawling in among the shattered glass, and torn metal. The journal wasn’t on the seat, so she began going over the truck inch by inch.
She had looked under the seat for the third time, peered behind the head rests, checked the glove box, and even looked under the brake pedal, but there was no sign of the journal anywhere.
“It has to be here somewhere?” she growled, nibbling her lip. “I’m sure he had it when he left Gram’s.”
“You alright lady?” a man in greasy overalls walked toward her. “You’ve been looking in there a long time.”
“Has
