Page 21 of Long Past Deadly

The curtain brushed open. Their conversation stopped.

Dr. Meeks was a short, robust man with a bushy black beard and intense brown eyes. “She’s going to be fine, and I’m only telling you this because she gave me permission. She has tympanic membrane damage in her middle ear and ear drum. Definitive signs of conductive hearing loss, possibly tinnitus, but it’s too close to the event to draw conclusions. The blood and debris along with the injury are compromising sound transmission. Now we wait and give it time to heal. We’ll know in a few weeks if her eardrum and hearing return to normal. If not, we’ll have a better framework for a course of treatment. You can talk to her for the rest.” He trotted past them both.

Quaid grabbed the curtain and entered the room. Mackey stayed clear. Quaid and Alanna had a habit of spitting at each other no matter what the contact. Had from the first meeting. He was going to let them sort this out on their own.

“I’ll make arrangements for us to get back to QM.”

Quaid waved him off. He never took his eyes off Alanna.

Mackey shut the curtain again and grabbed his phone. Oh boy.

&&&&&&&&&&

Tired, frustrated, and irritated, Alanna glared at Quaid and wanted to blame him for the whole mess she was currently surviving. But, in her experience when she let out her frustration, the situation never worked out in her favor. Aside from the personal consequences, none of this was his fault.

The curtain separated and Mackey poked his head in. “Niles is here. He has clothes for Williams, and he’s our ride back to QM.”

She only got about four words, but guessed at the rest. Niles, clothes, ride, QM. “Thanks. Can we leave?”

Quaid glanced at Mac.

Mackey shrugged and pointed at the central station. “I’ll arrange it.”

Or what she assumed was agreement.

She blurted out her nagging concern. “I’m not going to be much of a wingman for a few weeks.”

Quaid grabbed her board and scribbled in a messy scrawl. “We’re going to QM. We’ll talk there.”

“Talk about what?”

Writing again, she watched words emerge on the page. “We have pictures of the man from cameras. I want you to check them. You might recognize him.”

“This isn’t about me.” She rubbed at the bandage on her arm.

Quaid lifted her chin. “You may have seen him.”

“How?”

He grabbed the marker again and erased the board. “You were outside before the wedding?”

“Yes, a couple different times. Trying to stay out of the way.”

Quaid stared at her, his deep frown off-putting.

“You think I saw him in the parking lot?”

He nodded at her, his lips pressed tightly together.

She glared at him. There was something else there, something he wasn’t telling her.

Well, she’d always been rudely honest with him. Why stop now?

“What are you not telling me?”

Quaid shook his head. “Not the time.”

If she waited until she got to QM and to safety, she’d fall asleep. She needed rest so badly. The pain meds they’d given her kept her eyes at half-mast, and she needed a comfortable bed.