The Protector

PART FOUR. Threat Confrontation
1

The hotplate's coil glowed. Through steam escaping from the open bathroom door, Cavanaugh could see the unit on the counter in front of the makeup mirror. A vague outline of a saucepan was visible on top of it. The pan contained boiling water, a curved sewing needle, and fishing line.

Cavanaugh was slumped in the tub while the hot shower sprayed smoke and grime off him.

"You've got more bruises," Jamie said. "By morning, you'll have trouble walking."

"I won't need to walk. We're spending tomorrow in the car."

"And maybe part of tonight?"

Cavanaugh turned his head and studied her. "You're as quick a learner as Prescott."

"Except I don't go around setting fires. We can't stay here much longer, correct?"

"Correct. There's always a neighborhood busybody who notices unfamiliar cars on the street. He or she will remind the police about it. One of the policemen will remember the attractive woman who moved the car after the fire started. Meanwhile, the neighbors behind Karen's house will tell the police about the injured man and the attractive woman who ran out of the house and disappeared. It'll take the police a while to get organized, but before midnight, they're going to be looking for a man and a woman in a dark blue Taurus. Time to hit the road."

Jamie glanced toward the pan on the hotplate. "Think it's boiled enough?" she asked.

"Ten minutes. If the germs aren't dead by now…"

"Turn off the shower." Jamie blotted the wound with surgical gauze, then coated it with Betadine germicide that she'd bought from Wal-Mart. The gouge looked clean enough that there wasn't a need to put Cavanaugh through the pain of more hydrogen peroxide. Quickly, she applied antibiotic cream. Then she hurried to the pan and used tongs, which she had swabbed with rubbing alcohol, to take the needle and fishing line from the boiling water. She set them and disinfected scissors onto antiseptic pads at the side of the tub.

"You should have been a nurse," Cavanaugh said.

"Yeah, that's always been my ambition: to sew up gunshot wounds. You're absolutely sure you need to do this?"

"The wound has to stay closed, and the bandage isn't working."

"We could always try barbed wire and a staple gun."

"Funny."

"Keep laughing." Jamie knelt beside him at the tub. "No matter how gentle I try to be, this'll hurt."

Cavanaugh's face felt as taut as his nerves. "I've had it done to me before."

"I imagine."

"But the guy doing it wasn't as good-looking as you."

"Flattery's great. Tell me more sweet things while I do this."

"You're tough."

"So are you." Jamie pushed in the needle.