Page 97 of Sting
The surgeon gave a lopsided grin. “I’ll send somebody in. But if you can’t pee on your own, back in it goes.”
“Then I’ll make damn sure I pee on my own.”
“Good luck to you.”
He breezed out. Fifteen seconds later, a uniformed man stalked in.
Shaw rested his head on his pillow and closed his eyes.
“Morning.”
Shaw didn’t return the greeting, but the officer didn’t take the hint. Shaw sensed him advancing into the room, stopping at the foot of the bed, looking down on him.“I rode in the ambulance with you yesterday, but you were pretty out of it. Clint Morrow, Terrebonne Parish—”
“I remember you,” Shaw said. “The man who tracked me down.”
“Wasn’t much of my doing. I got a good lead.”
“What was a fisherman doing in a swamp during a thunderstorm? Let me guess. Some crazy Cajun.”
“Takes all kinds.”
“My luck,” Shaw muttered.
After a brief pause, Morrow asked how he was feeling.
“How do I look?”
“Like shit.”
“That pretty much covers it.”
The deputy waited a beat, then got down to business. “I need you to answer some questions.”
Shaw raised his head, opened one eye, and took a look around the room. “I don’t see a lawyer.” He closed his eye and returned his head to the pillow.
Undeterred, Morrow began relating facts that Shaw already knew about the fatal shooting of Mickey Bolden. “Do you want to comment on any of that, Mr. Kinnard?”
“Still don’t see a lawyer. But if you stick around long enough, you might get to watch them remove my catheter.”
“When did you become acquainted with Bolden?”
He asked a few dozen questions. Shaw responded with sighs, yawns, and once by asking if Morrow would mind scratching an itch for him. “It’s a lot to ask, I know, but it was washed during my sponge bath.”
“Okay, talk smart,” Morrow said. “Sooner or later you’ll realize that it’s in your best interest to cooperate.”
“No, it’s in your best interest for me to cooperate.” Looking beyond him, Shaw added, “Unless I miss my guess, she’s here to run you out.”
Morrow turned to the nurse who’d entered the room. “I’m sorry, but your ten minutes are up,” she told him. “You can come back this afternoon between one and three.”
Shaw said, “That is if you have absolutely nothing better to do between one and three, because I’m not talking to you without a lawyer present.”
“Actually I do have something better to do. Agent Joe Wiley—you remember him?”
“Prince of a guy.”
“He invited me to sit in when they question Ms. Bennett. You…” He looked pointedly at Shaw’s cuffed hands. “You’ll keep.” He put on his hat and brushed the brim of it with his index finger. “Ma’am,” he said to the nurse and started for the door.
“Wait a minute.” Shaw tried to sit up but was able only to lever himself onto his elbows. “Is Josh Bennett still at large?” Seeing the deputy’s hesitation, Shaw said, “His capture wouldn’t be kept secret. It’ll have been on the news. I can ask her,” he added, indicating the nurse, “or you can just tell me.”
