Robert B. Parker’s Buried Secrets

Fifty-Five

“Did you think your skull was thick enough to deflect bullets?” Rachel Lowenthal said.

“I hoped he’d aim for the heart,” Jesse said.

The ER was quiet. Three a.m. was usually busier in an emergency room, at least in Jesse’s experience. But Rachel — Dr. Lowenthal, he reminded himself — had taken him back to an exam room as soon as he walked in.

Maybe she liked him a little after all.

“Well, congratulations. It’s definitely the stupidest thing I’ve seen in a long time, and I work in an emergency room where people show up with lawn implements inside them.”

Then again, maybe not.

Sitting on the exam table, Jesse winced as she thumped his ribs. Large purple bruises were already flowering on his chest where the vest had caught the bullets.

“You’re lucky the Kevlar held, too,” she said. “I read it’s not great with multiple shots.”

“I had plates under the Kevlar.”

She thumped his chest once more, which seemed a little unnecessary to Jesse. “Your ribs aren’t broken. You’re going to hurt a lot, though. Maybe you’d have done better with more body fat. Give you a little padding.”

“I’ll try to eat more donuts.”

“All right,” she said, pointing to his forehead. “Lean forward and I’ll clean that wound.”

Jesse ducked down so she could reach the spot on his brow where the ricochet had hit.

He held still while she plucked with tweezers. She placed splinters of bloody brick and wood and dirt into a metal basin while she talked.

“You know you don’t get anything for being a repeat customer, right?” she asked, as she plucked with the tweezers. “We don’t have a punch card like a coffee shop.”

“I’m only here for the cafeteria food.”

“The food in there is awful.”

“I was misinformed.”

She smiled. “You’re pretty charming for someone people keep trying to kill.”

“They just haven’t gotten to know me.”

Lowenthal dug a particularly big piece out of Jesse’s head. It came free with a slight shucking noise.

“You’re allowed to say ouch,” she said.

“Ouch.”

“You want something for the pain?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Right,” she said. “Tough guy. How could I forget. By the way, your friend Daisy was in here earlier.”

“How is she?”

“Alive. Although that cheekbone is going to hurt like hell for a while, and she’ll have a lovely black eye to show people.”

“I’m sorry,” Jesse said.

Dr. Lowenthal looked him in the eye. “Don’t be,” she said. “You didn’t do it. And you saved her life. Believe me, I heard all about it.”

She nodded, as if that settled the discussion, and then turned her back on Jesse while she opened a drawer.

“I’m going to give you antibiotics and a tetanus booster,” she said.

“Is that necessary?”

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of needles, Chief Stone.”

“It’s Jesse.”

“Right.”

While she swabbed his arm and jabbed him, Jesse thought of what Dix had said. How you have to make an effort to let people into your life. How you have to risk little things to win big things.

He took a breath. It hurt his ribs.

“Hey, Dr. Lowenthal,” he said. “I wonder if I could ask you out for coffee again sometime.”

“What did I say last time?”

“Hard to recall. I’ve been hit in the head a few times since then.”

“I think I said I wasn’t interested in being another notch on the bedpost of a guy trying to get himself killed before he had to face retirement.”

“Is that what you said?”

“Well, it still applies.”

“I’m not that guy,” Jesse said. “Or, at least, I’m trying to do better.”

Lowenthal looked at Jesse for what felt like a long time. She narrowed her eyes, as if he was an X-ray and she might be able to spot something if she squinted hard enough.

“Okay,” she said. “Why not? Let’s take a chance.”

Jesse smiled.

“My thoughts exactly.”

“So when should I clear my schedule?” she asked. “I have to be back here at eight tonight.”

“How about tomorrow,” Jesse said. “I still have a couple things I’ve got to finish up today.”