The hot shower felt amazing. Celia stood in the steam with one hand against the wall, just in case. The steam cleared her head, and her muscles began to relax. Surveying her body, she saw a few scrapes and some marks that would probably become nasty bruises. The largest mark was between her breasts, where the seat belt had been. That’s where the doctor said she’d have the most pain. Celia hadn’t been in an accident since high school when her buddy had run a red light after a ballgame. No one was seriously hurt then either, but she remembered that the pain got worse before it got better.
“What are you doing?” Keith asked from the couch. He was watching a game.
“I was just going to check some things before bedtime.” Celia opened her laptop.
He was out of the couch before she finished the sentence. “Yeah, no.” He closed the laptop. “No work tonight.”
“I’m not dying. It’s a bump on the head.”
“You spend time looking at that screen, you’re gonna regret it tomorrow. Migraine city.”
“I don’t get migraines.”
“You do now. At least for a day or so.” Keith rubbed his head. “Trust me, I’ve had a few concussions.”
Celia pushed the laptop away and got comfortable. “That sounds like a few good stories.”
“Ah, you know, mostly football.” Keith flexed.
“You played basketball.”
“Reporters remember everything. It’s annoying.” Keith sat next to her. “Okay. I got one when I had a bike wreck in junior high school. Split the back of my head open. Blood everywhere. I was a legend.”
“I bet. Boys and blood.” Celia poked him.
“Then I got into a fight in high school.”
“Over a girl?”
“Over my sister,” Keith said. “A boyfriend forgot she had a big brother.”
Celia fanned herself. “How chivalrous. I’m impressed.” She sat forward with her chin in her hand. “And the other one?”
“Remember how I said female inmates can be every bit as rough as male inmates?”
“Ouch.” Celia winced. “So you got beat up by a girl.”
“Well, more like knocked down. Another guard and I were pulling two inmates apart. Mine lost her balance and fell backward. She was...substantial. And the floor was hard.”
“You really are a concussion expert. I’m feeling lucky I just had an accident.”
Keith stood and walked to the window, looking out carefully. “It wasn’t an accident.”
Celia joined him, and they both looked up and down the street. “You don’t think he’s close by?”
“He knows my jeep. I doubt he’d risk it.” Keith put a hand on Celia’s shoulder. “But we’ve got to get the evidence he did this. He escalates with every interaction.”
“That’s your department, or Walt’s. Or maybe Natasha knows a hitman.”
Keith laughed. “I didn’t hear that.”
They watched the rest of the game, and Celia took another pill before going to bed. It would knock her out, but she didn’t have any illusions about going to work the next day. Keith would stand in front of the door to prevent her if he had to do so. She felt strange being fussed over, but it was nice to have a friend close by, especially one with a concealed carry permit.
“Glad you slept all night. Call if you need anything. STAY HOME.”
Celia read Keith’s note as she drank coffee. She’d slept until almost 9:00, not hearing Keith at all when he left. Other than a dull throbbing in her head and chest, Celia felt almost normal. She was tempted to go to work, but if Keith didn’t drag her home, Gladys probably would. Instead, she took her coffee and laptop to the sofa and decided to do a little work from home.
“Yes, can I speak to William? It’s Celia Brockwell.” Celia typed a response to an email while she was on hold.
“Celia! What are you doing on the phone? You’re supposed to be resting!” William scolded her. “I heard last night. Someone tampered with your brakes?”
“How do you know these things?”
“I have spies everywhere.” William chuckled. “Actually, I called last night around 9:30, and Keith told me. They need to quit dicking around and catch that bastard.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.” Celia pressed send. “I’m going to try to wrap up the piece on the commissioners today.”
“Don’t worry about that. We can run it next edition if we need to. You need to make sure that head of yours is okay. That head makes money.”
“Ah, so that’s why you’re concerned!”
“Of course!” William laughed. “No really, I don’t want you to push it. I’m glad it wasn’t worse.”
“That makes two of us. So what did you need last night?”
“I was calling to remind you that I’m going to see Natasha today. I know you’re done with interviews. Anything you want me to tell her?”
“You could tell her I’m still hoping the governor will intervene, but she probably wouldn’t appreciate that. I’m glad you’re going. She acts stoic and formidable in there, but we both know it’s an act. At least some of it has to be.”
“I’ve never seen Natasha scared, but she’d have to be superhuman not to be afraid.” William cleared his throat. “I feel so helpless.”
“Seeing you will mean a lot to her. That I’m sure of, William. And we still have three days.”
William coughed. “True. Well, I’ll tell her you said hello. You know, she considers you a friend, and that’s rare for her.”
Celia smiled and ended the call. Natasha had also told Celia that she was a friend. Celia wouldn’t have admitted it, but she felt honored. And she felt the same. For whatever reason, she’d found an ally and kindred spirit in the actress.
Celia was about to make herself something to eat when her phone rang again. She didn’t recognize the number. Was it the hospital? “Celia Brockwell.”
“So you're still alive,” a soft voice said.
Bart. “Who is this? Bart, what the hell are you doing?”
“I’m glad you’re safe...for now. Too bad about Stewart.”
“Bart, I swear to God, I will -”
The call ended.
Chapter 32
For the next 48-hours, Celia
