Forever My Hero, page 9
Elliot eyed the heavy-set, middle-aged man with pure relief. “Gladly. I am thoroughly sick of my own company,” he said, and gestured toward a chair. “Pull it up and have a seat.”
Sheriff Joe grinned. “Thank you, sir, but I won’t be here long, so I’ll stand.”
“Suit yourself,” Elliot said, but he was less pleased with the company than he had been.
Sheriff Joe pulled out a notepad with the questions he intended to ask. “First of all, what is the last thing you remember before being attacked?”
Elliot raised the head of his bed a little so they were on a more even line of sight.
“I don’t remember any attack. I haven’t remembered much of anything, and that’s still the case. I know I was on the overlook, painting the scene directly in front of me. My wife and I used to picnic there before she passed, and I wanted to paint the scene and frame it to hang in my house.”
Sheriff Joe nodded and made a couple of notes. “The canvas we recovered at the scene had a hole punched in the middle of it, although it appears you were in the act of painting a boat out on the lake. Did you know who it was?”
Elliot shrugged. “I don’t remember seeing boats right now.”
The sheriff frowned. “Okay, then moving forward a bit in time… When did you become aware someone was walking up behind you?”
“I didn’t know. My hearing isn’t so good anymore. Sorry.”
Joe sighed. “So what you’re telling me is that you have no idea who hit you, or why?”
“That’s right,” Elliot said.
“Do you know any locals you would consider an enemy? Do you have an unresolved beef with someone?”
“No, sir.” Then he glanced at the sheriff a little closer. “When was the last time you had your blood pressure checked?”
Sheriff Joe blinked. “Uh…I don’t know. Why?”
“You need to pay your doctor a visit, and don’t delay. Tell him to check the carotid artery in your neck,” Elliot said.
“What would make you say such a thing?” the sheriff asked.
Elliot shrugged. “I know stuff. Go now. Stop down in the ER before you leave.”
Joe Ryman was irked and a little unnerved. “Well then,” he said. “Thank you for your time. Hope you feel better soon.”
“Stop in the ER,” Elliot said. “I’m serious.”
Disconcerted, the sheriff left Elliot’s room in haste. All the way down in the elevator, he kept telling himself to ignore the old fart, but the thought of a stroke or dying scared him. His grandfather and his dad had both died of strokes.
When the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, instead of going out the exit, he followed the arrows to the ER. There, he ran into an ER doctor who had just finished putting a dislocated shoulder back into place and was on his way to the lounge to get a cup of coffee.
Sheriff Joe stopped him in the hall. “Hey, Doctor, I know this sounds weird, but someone just told me I needed to get my carotid artery checked and to do it before I left the hospital. I don’t suppose you have time to—”
Dr. Quick reached for the sheriff’s neck to check the pulse. It felt slow, so he checked it with his stethoscope. The last thing he expected to hear were bruits—the deadly whooshing sound indicating a severely clogged artery. He turned around, grabbed a wheelchair sitting in the hall, and rolled it behind the sheriff.
“Have a seat,” he said.
Sheriff Ryman was startled. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” Quick said, and flagged down an orderly. “Get him to the lab, stat. I’ll call in the orders. Stay with him, and when he’s through, bring him back here.”
“Yes, sir,” the orderly said, and turned the chair and the sheriff around.
Dr. Quick moved straight to a phone and ordered the tests. Even though he had to wait for the results, he was already checking for an available surgeon. He was ninety-nine percent sure the sheriff’s carotid artery had serious stenosis from a buildup of plaque. To prevent a stroke, he would likely need a stent inserted in the artery to keep it open.
Nearly two hours later, Sheriff Joe Ryman had been admitted to the hospital and was in a bed in the ER, waiting for a surgeon to arrive from Savannah and his wife to arrive as well.
Dr. Quick stopped by to check on him. “I just got confirmation that the surgeon has arrived. We’ll be getting you to surgery in just a few minutes.”
Joe Ryman had faced down all kinds of perps and even a few mad dogs in his life, but this had him scared. “How will this affect my future?” he asked.
The doctor gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I’d say it should lengthen your life considerably. What you have is like a bomb with no controls. You would most certainly have had a stroke…or even a life-ending heart attack. Out of curiosity, who in the world told you to get this checked out…and what prompted it?”
“We’re working a case on one of the patients here…Elliot Graham. I was interviewing him, and he just stopped talking, stared at me weird, and then told me to get down to the ER. I asked him why he would say that, and he said he just knows stuff.”
“Really?” Dr. Quick asked.
Joe nodded. “I would have ignored him except for the fact that both my father and grandfather died from strokes.”
“Wow! I might go have a chat with Mr. Graham,” Dr. Quick said.
“If you do, thank him for me,” Joe said.
Dr. Quick smiled. “I’ll be glad to,” he said. “Now just relax as best you can, okay?”
The sheriff nodded, and the minute the doctor left the room, he started praying.
Chapter 7
Elliot was drifting in and out of sleep when the phone beside his bed began to ring. He rolled over to pick up the receiver.
“Hello.”
“Elliot, this is your neighbor, Dan Amos. Do you feel like talking? If you don’t, I can—”
“Oh, for the good Lord’s sake, don’t hang up!” Elliot said. “I’m bored out of my mind, and it’s good to hear your voice.”
Dan grinned. “Okay then. Good to hear that. So, first question is… How are you feeling?”
“Quite well, actually,” Elliot said. “Of course, my head is still a bit wonky. They’re telling me I’m still having some symptoms of the concussion, and they won’t let me go home until that passes.”
“That sounds like positive progress. I’m so glad to hear that, but I feel the need to apologize. If I’d been a better neighbor, I would have noticed you weren’t home, and you might have been found sooner. I promise that won’t happen again.”
“No! I don’t need people feeling the need to keep track of me. It’s my own fault for not telling someone where I was going.”
“Then we’ll make a pact to tell each other. How’s that?”
“Works for me,” Elliot said.
“On to my second question. Is there anything I can do for you at your home? Do you have plants to water or a pet to feed?”
“No, nothing like that, but I would appreciate it if you’d pick up my mail every day and keep it at your house until I get home.”
“Consider it done,” Dan said. “I’ll go over there in a few minutes.”
“Wonderful!” Elliot said.
“Third question… Do you know who attacked you?” Dan asked.
“Unfortunately, I didn’t see or hear a thing and have no idea why it happened. My wallet and car keys were still on my person when I was brought into the ER so it doesn’t appear the reason was robbery. The sheriff came by to talk to me. Said someone punched a hole in the painting I was working on. Oh…by any chance, do you know what has happened to my car?”
“No, but I would assume they’d tow it to the impound yard at the sheriff’s office. It’s protocol when a crime victim’s vehicle is part of the scene.”
“Oh. Well then, I guess I won’t worry about that for the time being.”
“Can I bring you anything?” Dan asked.
“No, sir, but I sure appreciate the call,” Elliot said.
“I’ll call again tomorrow to see if you need anything,” Dan said.
“I’ll look forward to it,” Elliot said.
“Yes, sir,” Dan said. “Goodbye and rest well.”
Elliot was still smiling when another doctor came in and strode to his bedside. The doctor wasted no time in getting to the point of his visit.
“Mr. Graham, I’m Dr. Quick. I understand you sent Sheriff Ryman down to my ER out of concern for his health.”
“Yes, I did. Is he in surgery yet?”
Quick was surprised. “Why, yes, as a matter of fact, he is. Could you tell me how you knew of his condition?”
Elliot shrugged. “I just know stuff.”
Quick frowned. “You know stuff? Are you saying you’re some kind of psychic?”
Elliot’s eyebrows arched. “Did you hear me say anything of the kind?” he snapped.
“No, sir, but—”
“My head hurts. I need to rest,” Elliot said.
Quick sighed. “Sorry to bother you,” he said. “As for the sheriff, you do know you saved his life. He said to tell you thanks.”
Elliot shook his head. “I believe the doctor who is operating on him will be the one saving his life. I just—”
“Yes…I remember. You just know stuff.”
Elliot sighed. “Exactly.”
“Rest well,” Quick said.
“Thank you, I shall,” Elliot said. “Oh…there’s a man out in the ER parking lot who has passed out in the seat of his car. I believe he overdosed on some drug. What you people call meth.”
“Are you serious?” Dr. Quick said.
“Of course. Who jokes about things like this? It’s a dirty red car…older model,” Elliot said.
Quick was already on his cell phone as he bolted out of the room, sending hospital security to the parking lot.
* * *
Unaware of the ongoing drama at the hospital, Dan was already on the front step of Elliot’s residence, gathering the accumulation of mail from the box. He circled the house, making sure everything was still secure, before going back across the street. He laid the mail on his hall table and then glanced at the time.
He wanted to call Alice but was afraid she might have gone back to sleep after getting her children to school. It was just after 10:30 a.m., so he decided to wait until closer to noon and went back to his office to read over the offer he’d written for the Payne rental properties one last time before emailing it to Aidan in New Orleans.
* * *
Unaware she was even a thought in Dan’s mind, Alice successfully managed to drive her kids to school. She dropped Charlie off at school and then headed to the elementary. Patty had come home yesterday with a note from her teacher about a missing permission slip for a class trip at the end of the week.
Alice parked in the parking lot at the school and walked Patty inside, then stopped at the office with the note and handed it to Mavis West, the school secretary.
“Patty brought this home yesterday. It seems her teacher is missing a signed permission slip for Patty. She never got home with it and doesn’t remember what it was for.”
Mavis scanned the note, eyed Patty, and then winked. “Let me check the school calendar.” She pulled it up on her computer, then added the teacher’s name, and her class schedule popped up. “Oh yes…Mrs. Milam’s annual leaf-gathering trip this coming Friday. It’s on the Leggitt farm two miles outside of Blessings. They gather different leaves in the morning, have a picnic lunch at the farm, and then are back here around 2:00 p.m. Give me a moment, and I’ll find the original note and make a couple of copies. One for you to sign and leave here, and one for you to take home. That way, you’ll have all of the information you need.”
“Oh yeah! The leaves!” Patty said.
Alice grinned. “Now she remembers. Run on to class, honey. I’ll sign your note before I leave.”
“Thank you, Mama,” Patty said, and left the office with a skip in her step.
“She’s a delightful child,” Mavis said.
“Thank you,” Alice said. But as she waited for the secretary to make the copies, she couldn’t help but remember the lack of understanding for their situation when she’d first brought her children here to enroll. Ah well, time changes all things…even people.
“Uh…Mavis, I witnessed the bus driver being attacked yesterday. How is he doing?”
Mavis paused as her expression shifted. “He’s doing well, thanks to the good Lord and Mr. Amos. He’ll be off work the rest of this week until they remove the staples in his arms and legs.” Then she eyed Alice’s bandage. “Looks like you have a problem of your own. What happened?”
“Oh, an accident at work. I cut my hand on a box cutter as I was unpacking inventory. I have stitches. Like the bus driver, I’ll be fine once they’re out.”
Mavis frowned. “Goodness. Feel better soon, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Alice said. “Did they ever find out who owned those dogs?”
“We were told they were strays that have been in the area for months. People have seen them, but they never caused any trouble and always ran off before anyone could catch them…and then this happened.”
“At least they’re no longer on the loose,” Alice said.
“True,” Mavis said, and pulled the copies out of the copy machine. “This is the info letter. You keep it. This is the permission slip that needs to be signed.”
Alice read the letter, then picked up a pen. She managed to sign it with her left hand, took her copy of the letter, and left the office. By the time she got back to her car, she was more than ready to get home and take a pain pill. She hadn’t taken one this morning because she would be driving, and now her hand was aching.
Taking that pill was the first thing she did when she got back to the house, and then she sat down in the recliner and kicked back until it kicked in. She was frustrated by the fact that she didn’t feel quite well enough to spend a whole day at work, but didn’t feel bad enough to spend the day in bed, either. So she put a plastic bag over her bandaged hand, wrapped it at the wrist with a piece of masking tape, then put a pork roast in her slow cooker for their supper and started a load of laundry.
She had the television on as she worked about the house and, once again, caught an update on Tropical Storm Fanny. She listened to the weatherman talking about the storm gathering in intensity and frowned. “Listen here, Fanny, you make sure to keep your fanny out in the ocean and leave us land dwellers alone, you hear?”
Then she turned to another station and sat down to watch a game show and fell asleep with the remote in her hand. She was dreaming Dan Amos had thrown a lasso over her shoulders and was pulling her to him when the cell phone in her shirt pocket began to ring.
Startled, she sat up with a jerk and reached for her phone before she remembered her hand, then moaned when she bumped it against the arm of the sofa.
“Dang it!” she cried, then took a deep breath. “Hello?”
“Good morning, Alice. This is Dan. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“I’ve been working around the house this morning. I sat down to rest a few minutes ago.”
“Good. Do you need anything? Like a lunch partner or a ride somewhere, or maybe a lunch partner?”
She laughed. “Well, since you inquired so subtly… Mr. Amos, I’m thinking the correct answer is I could use a lunch partner.”
“You are correct! The answer is me! I’m thinking something from Granny’s on the call-in and pick-up menu.”
“Perfect,” Alice said. “It’s such a dreary day. If she has any gumbo or chili on the menu today, that would be my choice.”
“I’m on it,” Dan said. “I’ll be there shortly, and thank you.”
“Why are you thanking me?” Alice asked. “I should be thanking you.”
“Because the older I get, the less I like eating alone. See you soon.” He disconnected.
The click in her ear made Alice shiver. What was going on here? What were they doing? Was he still being nice, or was it the stirrings of something else? If it was something else, she wasn’t going to play coy. She liked him. If it went beyond friendship, that would be icing on the cake of her life.
* * *
Dan was drinking a cup of coffee as he sat on a bench near the cash register waiting to pick up his order. He was checking emails on his cell when a middle-aged couple walked in. Dan guessed by the way they were looking at each other that they were either newlyweds or newly dating. He watched Lovey approach to seat them.
“Hello, you two. Good to see you again. Hey, Big Tom, how is your son doing? I heard he messed his feet up pretty bad out at the lake the other day, running away from a black bear.”
“Yes, it was an unfortunate chain of events. Junior was in the boat out on the lake, and Albert was fishing from the dock when he slipped and fell in. He climbed out of the water and had just pulled off his shoes when the bear showed up. Scared the crap out of him because the bear was between him and the truck, and Junior was too far away to hear him call for help. Albert said he threw the stringer of fish at the bear and took off running.”
“Oh my,” Lovey said. “Running barefoot through those woods…all those rocks and brambles.”
Dan was listening, but the story sounded as fishy as the catch thrown at the bear. And no one with a brain turns his back on a bear and runs. A bear could run a man down within seconds. This man’s son would have been safer trying to run to the truck, not running for miles through the woods. And he kept thinking about the pictures the sheriff had sent of Elliot’s painting. There was a boat on the lake. What if it was this Junior’s boat? Would the brothers have witnessed anything, or could they have been a part of it?
He watched as Lovey showed the couple to a table, and when she came back, she had his order.
