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To Die For Page 12
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The nurses took care of the bandaging, applying a huge amount of gauze and tape that wrapped around my upper arm and shoulder and would make it virtually impossible for me to get into any of my own clothes. I grimaced and said, “This is so not going to work.”
“How long before we can change the bandage?” Mom asked Cynthia.
“Give it twenty-four hours. You can shower tomorrow night,” she said to me. “I’ll give you a list of instructions. And unless you want to wait while someone goes to get some clothes for you, you can wear this beautiful gown home.”
“The gown,” I said.
“That’s what they all say. I don’t understand it myself, but, hey, when you like something you like it.” She left to go do whatever paperwork needed to be done, pulling the curtain closed behind her with a practiced jerk.
The gown in question was half on, half off, with my right arm threaded through one of the armholes but my left arm bare. I’d been preserving my modesty by holding the gown in place over my breasts, but no way could I get the thing the rest of the way on without flashing everyone.
“If you men don’t mind stepping out,” I began, only to be interrupted when Mom picked up my date book, which was lying beside my leg because that’s where Keisha had put it.
“What’s this?” she said, frowning a little as she read. “ ‘Unlawful detainment. Kidnapping. Manhandled the witness. Snotty attitude—’ ”
“That’s my list of Wyatt’s transgressions. Mom, Dad, meet Lieutenant J. W. Bloodsworth. The J stands for Jefferson, the W for Wyatt. Wyatt, my parents—Blair and Tina Mallory—and my sisters—Siana and Jennifer.”
He nodded at my parents while Siana reached for the list. “Let me see that.”
She and Mom put their heads together. “Some of the things on this list are prosecutable,” Siana said, her dimples nowhere in sight as she leveled her lawyer’s stare at him.
“ ‘Refused to call my mom,’ ” Mom read, and turned an accusing look on him. “That’s indefensible.”
“ ‘Laughed while I was lying on the ground bleeding,’ ” Siana continued.
“I did not,” Wyatt said, frowning at me.
“You smiled. Close enough.”
“Let’s see, there’s coercion, badgering, stalking—”
“Stalking?” he said, doing a wonderful imitation of a thundercloud.
“ ‘Casual about severity of my wound.’ ” Siana was having a great time. “ ‘Called me names.’ ”
“I did not.”
“I like the idea of a list,” Mom said, taking the date book back from Siana. “It’s very efficient, and that way you don’t forget anything.”
“She never forgets anything anyway,” Wyatt said, aggrieved.
“Thank you very much for putting this list thing in Tina’s head,” Dad said to Wyatt, and he wasn’t being sincere. “Way to go.” He put his hand on Wyatt’s arm and pulled him around. “Let’s go outside so they can get Blair dressed, and I’ll explain a few things to you. Looks to me like you need the help.”
Wyatt didn’t want to go—I could see it in his face—but neither did he want to pull any of his snotty attitude with my dad. No, he saved all of that for me. The two men walked out, and of course didn’t pull the curtain closed again. Jenni got up and did the honors. She was holding her nose in an effort not to laugh out loud until they were out of hearing distance.
“I’m particularly fond of the ‘snotty attitude,’ ” Siana said, then slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles.
“Did you see his face?” Mom whispered, grinning. “Poor man.”
Poor man, indeed.
“He deserved it,” I groused, sitting up and trying to find the left armhole in the gown.
“Just be still; I’ll do it,” Mom said.
“Don’t move your arm at all.” That was from Jenni, who had moved around behind me. “Let Mom thread the gown up your arm instead.”
Mom did, being very careful around the huge bandage, though it was so thick I doubt I could have felt anything through it anyway, even if Dr. MacDuff hadn’t numbed my arm before he started stitching. Jenni pulled the gown’s edges together in back, and tied the little strings.
“You aren’t going to be able to use that arm for at least a couple of days,” Mom said. “We’ll pick up some of your clothes and take you home with us.”
That was what I’d already figured, so I nodded. A few days of being coddled by my parents was just what the doctor ordered. Well, he hadn’t, but he should have.
By the time Cynthia returned with forms for me to sign, a list of instructions, and an aide with a wheelchair, Dad and Wyatt had also returned. Wyatt may not have been in a better mood, but at least he wasn’t scowling at everyone.
“I’ll go get the car,” Dad said when the aide appeared with the wheelchair.
Wyatt stopped him. “I’ll get my car. She’s going home with me.”
“What?” I said in surprise.
“You’re going home with me. In case you’ve forgotten, honey, someone is trying to kill you. Your folks’ house is the first place anyone would look. Not only is it not safe for you, are you willing to endanger them, too?”
“What do you mean, someone’s trying to kill her?” Mom demanded fiercely. “I thought it was a random—”
“I guess there’s a slight chance the shooting could have been random. But she witnessed a murder last Thursday, and her name was in the paper. If you were a murderer, what would you want to do about a witness? She’ll be safe at my house.”
“The killer saw you, too,” I said, thinking fast. Saw you kissing me. “What makes you think he wouldn’t track me to your place, too?”
“He wouldn’t know who I am, so how could he find out where I live? The only way he’d even know I’m a cop was if he hung around afterward, and trust me, no one was there.”
Darn it, he made sense. I didn’t want to endanger any of my family—or Wyatt either, come to that—so the last thing I should do was go home with them.
“She can’t go home with you,” Mom said. “She needs someone to take care of her until she can use her arm.”
“Ma’am,” said Wyatt, steadily meeting her gaze, “I’ll take care of her.”
Okay, so he’d just told my family we were sleeping together, because we all knew that “taking care of” meant bathing, dressing, and so on. Maybe I had shouted in front of all his men that I wouldn’t sleep with him again, but that was different. For me, anyway. This was my parents, and this was the south, where of course such things went on, but you generally didn’t announce it to the world or your family. I expected Dad to take him by the arm and lead him out again, for another little talk, but instead Dad nodded.
“Tina, who better to take care of her than a cop?” he asked.
“He has a list of transgressions two pages long,” she replied, indicating her doubt that he was capable of taking care of me.
“He also has a gun.”
“There is that,” Mom said, and turned to me. “You’re going with him.”
Chapter
Twelve
“You know,” I said as Wyatt drove me to his place after stopping to get my prescriptions filled, “this guy saw your car, and it has ‘cop’ written all over it. Who else drives a Crown Vic—I mean, who under the age of sixty drives a Crown Vic except for cops?”
“So?”
“You kissed me there in the parking lot, remember? So he might very well figure we have a thing, you’re a cop, and work it from there. How hard can it be?”
“We have over two hundred people in the department; narrowing down which one I am could take time. Then he’d have to find me. My home phone number isn’t listed, and sure as hell no one in the department would give out information on me or any other member. If anyone wants to contact me about work, they call this,” he said, tapping his cell phone. “And it’s registered with the city.”
“All right,” I conceded. “I’m safer at your place. Not tota