The Book of Lies

55

“—ou okay?” a man’s voice echoed. “Can you hear me? . . . You okay?”

Blinking back to consciousness, Naomi was groggy, lost. That stench of ammonia. Smelling salts, she realized as she stared up at the young African-American man standing over her.

From his white uniform, plus the bright overhead lights . . .

“Do you know your name?” the male nurse asked.

“Wh-Where is this?” Naomi asked. She tried turning to the side, but her head . . . It wouldn’t move. She touched her neck. There was a huge plastic collar. Am I paralyzed?

“You’re at Huron Hospital, ma’am. Your friends brought you into our emergency room. Can you move your toes?” the nurse asked. “Do you know your name?”

“Get this offa me!” Naomi shouted, tugging at the Velcro along the collar.

“Ma’am, don’t!” The nurse grabbed Naomi’s arms, then undid the plastic collar and checked the back of her neck. “Can you move your toes?”

Naomi kicked both feet out and tried to sit up, but she was far too dizzy to make it. She touched the back right side of her throbbing skull but felt only the thick gauze pad that was wrapped around her head.

“My purse, my gun . . .” Naomi blurted as she felt herself up. “They took my gun!”

The nurse stepped back, wary.

“Relax—nuhhh—I’m a federal agent,” Naomi said, gripping the metal rail on the gurney and finally sitting up straight. “I need a phone. Have you seen my—?” From her pants pocket, she pulled out her phone and earpiece.

“Lord, didn’t you gimme any painkillers?” she asked as the throbbing got worse.

“You were unconscious,” the nurse began, though before he could finish, Naomi was done dialing, focused now on her earpiece.

“C’mon, Scotty, pick up,” she muttered as it rang in her ear.

“You have a laceration and contusion, ma’am. You need staples to close that up.”

“Fine. Put ’em in.” But all Naomi really cared about was the endless ringing of the phone in her ear. Something was wrong. “Where the hell are you, Scotty?”