Ina Mae looked at her for a moment. “Then we’ll just wait here,” she said, “until they tell us they’re taking him to surgery, at which time we’ll celebrate by treating ourselves to a late lunch in the cafeteria.”
“Celebrate?”
“Of course, since that will mean our lieutenant’s infection is under control, and that all they need to do at that point is go in and tidy things up.”
Jo had to smile at the idea of the surgeon being compared to a broom-wielding housemaid, but as usual Ina Mae had looked at things with her usual common sense. “You’re right, Ina Mae. I hated the thought of Russ going through another surgery, but it actually will be a good sign, won’t it?”
“Once it’s done, he’ll really be on the road to recovery. Now, can I get you some coffee or a soda?”
Jo agreed to a soda, hating to send Ina Mae off for it, but hating more to leave the area in case someone came by to update her. She sat, watching staff nurses, doctors, and lab personnel bustle through the hall, feeling more and more like part of the furniture as one and all ignored her in their particular pursuits.
Ina Mae brought cheese cracker packets along with their drinks, then chatted just enough to distract Jo from her worries. Time dragged by until finally, a nurse came directly toward them.
“We’re taking the lieutenant to surgery now,” she said, and Jo sighed with relief.
“So his fever is down?”
The nurse smiled and gave a thumbs up. “All systems are go.”
“Wonderful,” Ina Mae said, and, as the nurse went off, turned to Jo. “Time to celebrate with something like a nice, big Taco salad. Sound good?”
Jo smiled. “Sounds great.”
<><><>
As they rode the elevator down to the cafeteria, Jo said, “I’m sorry I interrupted your tai chi class.” When Jo called her earlier, Ina Mae had answered in an uncharacteristically soft voice, and Jo heard Asian-style music in the background, which required an explanation.
“It’s no problem,” Ina Mae said as the elevator settled to a stop and the doors opened. ”I’m not sure I’ll keep on with it after all. It’s a lovely program, but I think I prefer more vigorous exercise. Plus there’s all those moves to learn which are giving me a bit of trouble. Much like the origami did.” She smiled. “Could be my Scottish genes just don’t mesh well with Asian traditions.”
“It might be a stretch for you. No pun intended,” Jo added as she pictured the class, “but I’d hang in there. I’ve heard so many good things about tai chi that I’ve thought of getting a DVD to practice it myself at home. Trouble is, by the time I get home, exercise is the last thing I feel like doing.”
“Well,” Ina Mae said, guiding Jo toward the food line, “it’s supposed to be a very good stress release. And Lord knows you could use that. There’s the taco salad, by the way,” she said, pointing to a colorful dish, “and it looks very good, doesn’t it?”
“Actually, I think I’ll go for the tuna salad sandwich. But why don’t you get the salad? My treat.”
Ina Mae hesitated, then chose a smaller version of the salad and an iced tea, passing by the dessert section. She urged dessert on Jo, though, who finally picked up a cup of rice pudding, mostly to pacify her friend who seemed eager to pack calories into her, having commented more than once in the past on Jo’s need to, as she put it, bulk up a bit more. They carried their trays to a quiet table and unloaded them, then settled down.
As Jo took her first sip of water, her thoughts immediately flew back to Russ and his fever. “I’m still shocked over that infection popping up so quickly. Russ looked so completely wiped out from it.”
Ina Mae opened up a sugar packet. “Post-surgical infections are not all that rare, from what I hear.” She shook a small amount of sugar into her iced tea. “Especially after a wound of the lieutenant’s type. Hospitals are quite capable of taking care of it.”
Jo shook her head. “Just last night he seemed to be recovering so well. He was talking of going home soon.”
“There’s going to be ups and downs. Count on it and you’ll be better able to handle it.”
“Good advice, Ina Mae, but not always easy to follow. I’m afraid some of my “downs” have made me hypersensitive.” She looked at her sandwich, fiddling with it, then said quietly, “I’m not sure I can handle roller-coaster rides anymore.”
Ina Mae looked at her. “You can,” she declared. “The “downs” are just going to hurt a bit more because of that tenderness. Completely understandable, of course, after what happened to your husband. Emotional wounds may take longer to heal than physical ones, but they do heal, Jo. Believe that.”
Jo lifted her sandwich and took a bite from it. After a moment she said, “I’m sure you’re right, but just the memory of the pain can make a person pretty skittish. Ina Mae, I care about Russ very much. Obviously, or I wouldn’t be here, wringing my hands over his latest crisis. But I can’t help feeling he deserves someone without all the baggage I’m dragging around.”
“Why don’t you let him make that decision?” Ina Mae said with a slight smile.
“Because, because…” Jo shook her head. “I don’t know. Because I want to make it for him, I suppose. And that’s not fair, is it?”
“No, it isn’t.” Ina Mae scooped up a forkful of her salad. “And you’d be hard put, you know, to find anyone without some kind of baggage,” she said. “Most people tend to keep it tucked in their back rooms, but it’s still there.” She pointed at Jo’s plate. “Keep eating. You need the energy.”
Jo grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” She took a bite from her sandwich, gazing over it at Ina Mae and thinking that she couldn’t imagine this sensible and upfront woman having any hidden baggage to her life. But who knew? As this wise friend had just implied, people’s lives were complicated, and it generally took a long time to get to know everything about a person. It just happened that Jo’s major problems were the kind that were impossible to keep private. She was reminded of her anonymous letter and phone call. She told Ina Mae about them.
Her friend’s eyes flashed as she listened. “Such rubbish! The last thing you need is harassment of that type. It’s clearly the ignorant action of one cowardly person, and I wouldn’t give it a moment’s attention.”
“The trouble is, it probably reflects what many people in town are thinking.”
“It’s ridiculous! Why should anyone assume you’re guilty? You haven’t been charged with a thing!”
“I imagine my having known Linda in New York, and the real problems between us along with the ones she simply claimed, make me look suspicious. Then there’s those murders that happened not so long ago around here. It all adds up to a pretty negative picture.”
“Those past incidents were completely cleared up, thanks to you. They should have nothing whatsoever to do with whatever rumors are presently going around. I haven’t heard a thing said against you, by the way, but then I tend to associate with reasonable people.” Ina Mae huffed and reached for her iced tea. “The best way, of course, to put an end to this kind of thinking is to find the actual murderer. What did you learn from that photographer this morning?”
Jo told Ina Mae about her encounter, finishing her tuna fish sandwich in the process and moving on to her rice pudding. Ina Mae’s reaction was much like Carrie’s, other than not urging her to immediately share this with Sheriff Franklin. She did suggest, however, investigating Bill Ewing more intensely.
“Harry and I were discussing that on the drive back,” Jo said. “He reminded me that you can find a lot of things on the Internet if you know where to look. I don’t have a computer yet – I was hoping to be able to afford one for the store before long, but now….. Well, anyway, he offered his own for me to use, or there’s Dan’s too. I was just over at Carrie’s, and could probably have used Dan’s computer then, but getting that anonymous letter pushed everything else from my mind.”
“Of course. And now there’s Russ to think about. I wish I could he
lp, but I’m afraid I’m just starting to learn my way around computers. Another class at the senior center,” she said with a smile.
“You’re helping enough just by being here, Ina Mae,” Jo assured her. She took a last drink from her water glass and reached for her pocketbook. “If you’re done, I’d really like to get back to the fifth floor.”
“Certainly.” Ina Mae helped Jo tidy up their table then followed her back to the elevator. They rode it silently up to the ICU, the elevator stopping along the way to pick up or discharge various hospital workers or visitors. Once there, Jo inquired after Russ at the nurses station.
“He’s still in surgery for the debridement,” the green, scrub-suited woman told her. “It shouldn’t be too much longer.”
Ina Mae told Jo, “Go ahead to the waiting area. I want to make a quick phone call.”
Jo headed down the hall, and, as she settled onto the tan, vinyl settee, heard her own cell phone ring. She pulled it out of her purse and looked at the display. The number was unfamiliar, and she answered it questioningly.
“Jo McAllister?” a male voice asked.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“This is Scott Morgan. Russ’s brother.”
CHAPTER 20
“Scott! Hello.” The vinyl cushion beneath her crackled as she sat forward. “Mark Rosatti said he’d given you my number. I’m glad you called.”
“How is Russ?” His voice sounded eerily like his brother’s, and Jo pictured a younger version of Russ with the same dark hair and even features. How much younger Scott was, she couldn’t remember.
She explained about the fever and required surgery to clean out the infection. “Apparently, this kind of thing is not too unusual, especially with gunshot wounds. I spoke to Russ very briefly before they took him up, and I’m hoping to see him again once it’s over and he wakes up.”
“Thank you for being there for him. I feel rotten that I can’t be.”
“Russ told me about your situation. You couldn’t possibly leave your wife at a time like this.”
“Yeah, it’s been touch and go with her having false labor and all. If we weren’t so far away…”
“Russ understands that, Scott. And he’s in excellent hands, so there’s really nothing to worry about.” Jo found herself reassuring this man of what she’d had trouble reassuring herself.
“I appreciate that. It’s just that Russ was so great when we went through a rough time with our first one – Ryan. This was when we were all still living in Cincinnati, of course, so the logistics was easier. But Russ was still getting over his son’s death, so his being there for me meant all that much more.”
“Russ had a son?” Jo’s mouth had suddenly gone dry, and she had trouble getting the words out.
“You didn’t know? Well, I’m afraid it’s something he doesn’t like to talk about. The baby lived only a few hours after his birth. It was really tough. Tough on both Russ and Laura. It probably was what led to their split, even though they hung in there for another year. That kind of thing can put a lot of stress on a couple. You did know about Laura, didn’t you? I mean, I’m sorry if I’m dropping too much on you.”
“No, I knew Russ had been married.” Though I never heard her name before. Jo thought back to the woman she had seen meeting Russ for lunch at the Country Club, the day Jo had set up a craft show there. Had that been Laura? Or someone else?
“So, when will he be out of surgery?” Scott asked.
“The nurse said not too much longer. I can call as soon as I hear anything.”
“Would you? That’d be great.” Scott gave his number, then added details about where he might be which went over Jo’s head for the most part as her thoughts went back to that one, stunning fact: Russ had a son.
She was closing up her phone as Ina Mae rejoined her and, knowing she must have a dazed look on her face, explained about Russ’s brother having called, though not what he had shared with her. That she needed to absorb for a while.
Ina Mae nodded, then said, “I just spoke to Dulcie.”
“Oh?” Jo said, not having any idea why Ina Mae would call Loralee’s daughter.
“Dulcie,” Ina Mae said, “is, as they say, computer literate.”
Jo still didn’t follow for a moment until she managed to pull her focus completely away from Scott’s call. “Oh!”
Ina Mae nodded. “She’s going to see what she can find about Bill Ewing on the
Internet. Her husband, of course, uses their computer for his work. But since he works from home, she’ll be able to hop on as soon as it’s free.”
“Good idea! Ina Mae, I’m glad at least one of us has her head screwed on straight.”
Ina Mae flapped a hand. “I’m not the one getting hit from all sides at the moment.”
That’s the truth, Jo thought, Scott’s information immediately flying back into her head. When was Russ going to tell her about that? she wondered. How painful must it continue to be for him if he still avoided talking about it?
Ina Mae sat down, bringing up lighter topics meant to be distracting for Jo, and Jo did her best to pay attention. She couldn’t, however, keep her thoughts from wandering back to Russ, and though Ina Mae probably assumed she was dwelling on his surgery, that had suddenly taken second place. Russ’s hidden emotional pain, more than his physical problems – his baggage, if you will – had taken center stage.
<><><>
Some time later, as Jo sat groggily flipping through magazines whose stories and pictures she barely saw, a smiling nurse stepped into the waiting area. “The lieutenant is awake,” she said.
“How did it go?” Jo asked, instantly alert.
“Very well. The area was cleaned out and he has a new drainage tube inserted. He’s not fully out of the anesthesia, but you can see him for a few minutes.”
“Excellent,” Ina Mae said. Jo hopped up to follow the woman back through the double doors into the ICU.
Struggling to ignore the bandages, tubing and beeping monitors, Jo concentrated on the fact that Russ’s eyes were blinking but open, and were looking at her. She stood at his bedside once more and murmured soft nothings, and he mumbled mostly indecipherable responses. Their main connection came through the touch of his hand in hers, warm, but not feverishly hot, and firm, which told her he was glad she was there. They held on until the nurse said their time was up, then reluctantly released, sliding palm to fingertip, then a final good-bye with promises of return.
“He’s doing fine,” the nurse assured her back in the hallway. “He’ll sleep for several hours now.”
Jo nodded and thanked her. She pulled her emotions together and called Scott. “Russ is back from surgery,” she reported. “Everything went perfectly.”
“Fantastic!” Jo heard the relief and joy in the younger brother’s voice, which echoed her own. They chatted for a minute on minor details, then ended with the probability that Scott would talk to Russ himself the next morning.
Jo returned to Ina Mae. “All is well,” she said.
“Of course,” Ina Mae said briskly, but her eyes were bright. She turned away to start tidying up magazines and gathering her things. “Feel up to a stop at the Tyler’s before you head on home?”
Jo had to think a moment before the name clicked. “Oh! Dulcie’s place?”
“Yes. I heard from her while you were otherwise occupied. She’s been surfing, as they say, on the Internet. She found something she’d like to show you.”
<><><>
Jo pulled up behind Ina Mae’s blue Chevy Malibu in front of Loralee’s - or rather, as she supposed she should now call it, the Tyler’s - house. As she turned off her motor, she pulled out her cell phone to call Carrie to quickly tell her about Russ’s surgery.
As expected, Carrie’s first words were: “Why didn’t you call me right away!” which meant, of course, “why didn’t you tell me to come over?”
“It was nothing to worry anyone about,” Jo said, playing down the potential seriousness o
f Russ’s infection as well as her own worries. When Carrie protested that she could have quite easily come to the hospital to wait with her, Jo decided not to remind her of Amanda’s choral performance but simply emphasized that Russ’s surgery had been routine and simple. Easy for me to say popped into her thoughts.
Carrie groused a bit more, but eventually came around to being glad to hear that Russ had come through it well. She began to speculate on what she could bring Russ when she eventually came to visit. “Something edible,” was Jo’s advice, and they ended on a good note, Carrie apparently having forgiven Jo for not having seriously disrupted her own plans for a pleasurable afternoon in order to sit beside her for hours doing nothing much.
Ina Mae tapped at Jo’s passenger window, and Jo climbed out to head up the short walkway with her to the house.
Dulcie opened the door before they reached it and welcomed them in. Five-year-old Caitlin hovered behind her mother’s khaki pants, clutching the edge of her blouse with her fingertips. Blonde Loralee-like curls framed her face as she peeked out curiously.
“Caitlin, you go upstairs with Daddy, now,” Dulcie directed her daughter. “Help him get Andrew ready for bed, okay?”
Caitlin dragged herself off reluctantly, throwing many backward glances at her mother’s guests, and Jo smiled as she watched. Remembering Dulcie’s strong impulse to control all things child or house related, the fact of her having actually delegated away a bedtime task to her husband indicated to Jo the high measure of importance she must put on her Internet find.
Dulcie led Jo and Ina Mae through her tidy living room and shiningly clean kitchen to the basement steps. “The computer’s down in Ken’s office,” she said. “Would either of you like something to drink before we go down? Coffee? Soda?”
Both Jo and Ina Mae shook their heads, thanking her. “We’re highly interested to see what you found,” Ina Mae said.
“I ran it past Mom earlier,” Dulcie said, leading the way down her basement steps “She thought it was well worth calling you about. She’s off, by the way, picking up some curtains for her kitchen, or she’d be over to say hello.”
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