"More than one from the sound of it."

"How's Lee doing? Is he okay?"

"Don't know. I haven't talked to him. I'm sure security on him is tight."

"What about the killer? Did he get away?"

"She. Woman posing as a meter reader in a little truck across the street."

I could feel outrage flash through me like a fever. "Dietz, I hate this. What the hell is going on? The guy who tried to kill me brought his kid along." I took a few minutes then to fill in the details. He listened intently, asking questions now and then to clarify a point. When I finished, a short gap in the conversation suggested he had paused to light a cigarette. "You have a gun?" he asked. I could almost smell the smoke drifting through the line.

"In my handbag. A little thirty-two. It's not much of a weapon, but I can hit where I aim."

"They let you keep that?" he said with disbelief.

"Hey, sure. Why not? When you check into a hospital, you get quizzed about meds. Nobody thinks to ask about your personal firearms."

"Who knows you're there?"

"I'm not sure. It's a small town. I asked the deputy to keep it quiet, but word gets around. Actually, I was feeling secure until I talked to you."

"Good. Stay nervous. I'll get there when I can."

"How will you find me? They're not going to let you roam around up here in the dead of night."

"Don't worry about it. I got ways," he said.

"How will I know it's you and not another one of Tyrone Patty's little friends?"

"Pick a code word."

"Dill pickle."

He laughed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. That just popped into my head."

"Dill pickle. Around midnight. Be careful with yourself."

After I hung up, I eased out of bed and crept out to the nurses' station, clutching my hospital gown shut with one hand behind my back. Three nurses, a ward clerk, and an aide sat behind the counter. All five looked up at me, eyes straying then to a spot just behind me. I turned. The rookie deputy was sitting on a bench against the wall. Sheepishly, he lifted a hand, a blush creeping up his face.

"You caught me. I'm burnt," he said. "I thought maybe somebody oughta keep an eye on you in case this dude comes back. I hope you don't mind."

"Are you kidding? Not at all. I appreciate your concern."

"This's my girlfriend, Joy…"

The nurse's aide flashed a smile at me and I was introduced to the other four women in turn. "We've alerted security," one of the nurses said. "If you want, you can get some sleep now."

"Thanks. I could use some. There's a private eye named Robert Dietz, who said he'd be here later on. Let me know when he gets here and make sure he's alone." I told them the code word and his estimated time of arrival.

"What's he look like?"

"I don't know. I never met the man."

"Don't worry about it. We'll take care of it," Richie said.

I slept until dinnertime, sat up long enough to eat a plate of hospital food concealed under an aluminum hubcap. My vital signs were checked and I slept again until 11:15 that night. At intervals, I was aware of someone taking my pulse, fingers cool as an angel's pressed against my wrist. By the time I woke, someone had retrieved some of my belongings from the car. The portable typewriter and my duffel were tucked against the wall. I clenched my teeth and slid out of bed. When I bent over to unzip the duffel, my head pounded like a hangover. I pulled out fresh jeans and a turtleneck and laid them on the bed. The drawer in my bedtable held soap, toothbrush, toothpaste, and a small plastic bottle of Lubriderm. I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, grateful that all of them were present and accounted for. I took a long, hot bath in a tub with handholds affixed to the wall at every conceivable point. I needed them. Getting in and out of the bathtub only made me aware of multi-hurt places distributed randomly all up and down my bod.

While I dried myself off, I checked myself in the mirror, disheartened by the sight. In addition to the bruise on my forehead, my eyes were now dark along the orbital ridge and streaked with red underneath, perfect for Halloween only six months away. My left knee was purple, my torso sooty-looking with bruises. Combing my hair made me wince, sucking air through my teeth. I moved into the other room and took my time getting dressed, resting between articles of clothing. The process was exhausting, but I plugged on doggedly. Whatever damage I'd sustained in the accident was taking its toll.