by Ed Gorman
Bonnell pounded into the room.
"Let me," he said, rushing over.
But I couldn't let go of her. I held on to her as if we would be embracing that way for eternity.
Bonnell wasn't impressed.
He wanted to help her, if that was still possible.
I can't ever recall being hit so hard in my life. He knocked me unconscious in a single punch.
***
Four hours later the young intern in the white smock signaled that I could go into the room. He held up three fingers-the three minutes I'd agreed to.
The window was smudged with overcast morning light. In her hospital bed she looked very white and very frail. I went over to her side and started to lean down and kiss her when her eyes came open.
"Hi," she said, after bringing me into focus.
I sighed. It was great to hear her talk. She could have read the phone book and I would have been delighted.
"Hi," I said back.
"I guess it all got resolved, didn't it?"
"Yeah."
"Poor Tommy. Before he started choking me, he told me about himself. I can't help it, I feel sorry for him."
I thought of Tommy the last way I'd seen him-virtually without a head. "Yeah," I said, "poor Tommy."
She smiled up at me. "You still thinking about giving up your bachelor status?"
I smiled back. "Thinking about it, yes." Then I said, "Last night, when I was helping you up the steps to my apartment, I told you that I loved you."
"I hope I had the grace to be appreciative." She reached out her hand. "I love you too, Michael."
An intern came in looking very serious.
"I'll be back tonight," I said to Cindy.
"You'd better be," she said.
I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and left. She was dozing off before I got out the door.
Bonnell was in the lobby.
"I figured I'd find you here," he said.
"I have to fill out evidence forms or something?" I said.
"Not that I know of. It's wrapped up. We found the gems in Denny Harris's basement." He smiled. "Just thought I'd buy us both a little breakfast. My wife hates cooking, so I thought I'd do her a favor and eat out."
"Sounds great," I said.
I paused, looking back at the room.
"Nothing's ever easy, is it?" I said, thinking of the last few days, then thinking of Cindy.
"Nothing worth having," he said, leading the way down the hall to the elevators.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
EDWARD GORMAN has been in the advertising business for twenty years, and has written and directed for the filmed media-from documentaries to television commercials. He has published short fiction and criticism in magazines from coast to coast. He lives and works in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, where he now runs his own advertising agency, and is working on a new series of mystery novels. Rough Cut is his first novel.
