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Linda sagged as if releasing a load of doubt. “Oh, then I’m sorry for your friend. Looks like she’ll be okay now. Jess knows what he’s doing. He’ll help her.”
Luke’s tone hardened. “She’s another in a long line of people I’ve heard about recently that used shit that almost killed them. Must be a bad batch out there spiked with fentanyl.”
“Wouldn’t know. But Zed better watch his ass, or he’ll be next. You remember him, the one who used to sing with Matt? I liked him before he began his downward spiral.” She poked his arm, “The gang is going to start the next set. They’re waving you over.”
“Okay. Good idea. Get the folks back enjoying the evening. Are you going to call an ambulance?”
“Don’t know. We used to, but not lately. Now that we have a stock of Naloxone behind the bar and administer it like the paramedics, most addicts refuse to go to the hospital. If Wendi comes out of the overdose okay, Jess will give her the choice.” She pointed to what was happening and added, “See… she’s refusing to let him call 911. They watched as Jess helped the weak woman to her feet and led her to the back behind the bar.
“He’ll let her hang there for a while until she feels better. Usually only takes a short while but the boss gave instructions that we need to check on them until they leave.”
Luke grinned at Linda. “Bet you never imagined bartending would cover doctoring as well as being a part-time shrink.”
“Hell, no. There’s never a dull moment. Take my new friend Honey for instance, she’s one big surprise. Got me working as a P.I.”
Luke stopped dead and turned back, facing a woman who seemed to expect him to do so. “What’s this about Honey?”
“Oh, baby. That girl’s involved with a twenty-year old murder, and I’m helping her get some answers. Oh, oh, Matt’s waving you over again, and he looks pissed. You better go.” Linda left him standing there, his mind whirling so hard the room spun. All he wanted to do was follow her and beg for more information like a hungry dog performing for a treat.
But he couldn’t. They had jobs to do. “Okay, talk later.”
Luke returned to the stage, picked up his guitar, and began playing background music for Cissy. When he heard Boney trying to cover his lyrics he winced and saw the pleading in Matt’s eyes. He opened his mouth and the words flowed as if his mind wasn’t focused on a blonde beauty who he’d just found out had problems of her own.
Chapter Eighteen
Honey woke up in the hospital, her mother next to her, sleeping in the chair. When she tried to lift her hand, she found it impossible. Her mother clutched it so tightly, she had to wake her up before she could retrieve it.
“Mo-m.”
Anita Bolder jumped, her focus immediately on Honey. “Oh, baby. You’re awake. I’m so glad. The doctor warned that you might be out of commission for a few hours, but it’s been more than that. I was terrified.”
“How long…?”
“How long have you been here?” Her painful nod kept her mom talking. “They brought you in first thing this morning. One of the men who live in your building goes to the bakery early. He found you and called the ambulance. They patched you up but were worried about the bruising on your head.”
When Honey lifted her hand, her mom patted it away. “It’s okay. They sent you for CT scans and seemed sure your wounds were mostly superficial.”
“Good. I’ll be fine.”
“No. You lost so much blood; they gave you a transfusion. It’s going to take some time for your injuries to heal.”
“Mel…”
“She wasn’t with you. I called her a little while ago. She’ll be here soon.”
“Mom don’t cry. I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not. Those bullies got to you, didn’t they? The police found your phone, and when I told them about the earlier trouble you had, after the school closed for the summer, they asked if they could go through your messages. Of course, I said yes. I’m glad you didn’t change your password. We saw the texts, Honey. My God, why didn’t you go directly to the police?”
“I did, Mom. They told me to change my phone number, remember.”
“So that’s why you did that. You said it was because you switched providers.”
“I didn’t want you to worry.” The more Honey talked, the stronger her voice became.
“Not worry? My God, girl. I almost died when they knocked at the door to say you’d been attacked.” Her stoic mom shared her anger in a voice trembling with dismay. “What’s this world coming to when a girl isn’t safe in her own front yard?”
Honey tried to sit up, and with the help of her mom, she settled back against the pillows.
