Troubleshooter

Chapter 30

The waiting-room TV, suspended from a bracket in the corner, offered a virtual face blast of information. Shots within shots, subheadlines with bullet points, an Energizer Bunny crawl across the bottom: Laughing Sinner killed in Fillmore shoot-out…Pregnant deputy shot by fugitive Den Laurey still in critical condition… Another Cholo found dead. Authorities believe killing related to biker gang war… AP: Mutilated female corpse discovered in former IronClad Parts warehouse…

Tim caught a few stares from the waiting wounded, who-as a corralled TV viewership on a bureaucratic timetable-had no doubt watched grainy, zoom-lensed Deputy Rackley poking through one of the three high-profile crime scenes that had emerged last night and this morning.

Dray was alone in her room, arrayed peacefully under the covers, her head tilted just so on the pillow. He spoke her name, half expecting her to rise and greet him. Her skin felt hard and waxy and gave off the scent of antiseptic. He missed the smell of her, and it struck him that there was no way to recapture it unless Dray reentered her life, unless she showered, sweated, ate her vast yet specific array of foods, rubbed jasmine lotion into her hands in her elaborate manner that made her look like a cartoon villain scheming. Her smell captured the combination of countless variables that were her life, that were her alive.

A middle-aged woman-a physical therapist by her ID card-entered and introduced herself. She was heavyset and to the point. "The nurses in the CWA told me you're the guy. In charge of catching those bikers? I have a daughter who lives out in Simi…" Her thought trailed off into a dark corner. "You catch those guys."

She pulled the sheets off Dray and rearranged her body with practiced, no-nonsense movements. Dray's arms looked thin, dwarfed by her belly.

"How's she doing?" Tim asked.

"Still not arousable to stimuli. No purposeful movements. The doc says the baby's going strong, so that's good."

She grasped Dray's calf and foot and rocked the leg, as if shaking off dust, then bent it back. She repeated the motion a few times before switching legs. He watched her work. Seeing Dray animated, even falsely, gave him a stab of irrational hopefulness.

Tim cleared his throat. "What can I expect here?"

"There are significant variations based on the nature of the injury-"

"No bullshit," he said softly. "Please."

She paused and regarded him, Dray's foot in hand, before returning to her task. For a moment Tim thought she wasn't going to answer. Then, without looking up, she said, "I can't speak to brain damage. My area of expertise is muscle atrophy. She has a week or two before there's appreciable deterioration. Rehabilitation gets harder after that. And, you know, the likelihood that…"

"That she won't be able to."

The physical therapist contemplated Dray's leg bends with renewed focus. Tim watched the knee rise, fall, rise.

Think this is the best use of your time?

"Shut up, Dray."

The therapist caught his murmur, raised an eyebrow in his direction.

I miss you, too, babe, but you have more important things to do than watch me play cadaver Twister.

Tim watched the physical therapist rotate Dray's foot in precise circles.

So you won't leave?

Not right now.

Make yourself useful, then.

The therapist placed Dray's heel on her own shoulder and elevated the leg to stretch the hamstring, her fingers laced to brace the knee straight. She finished and jotted a few notes on her clipboard.

"Can I?"

She looked up at Tim, surprised. Her eyes twinkled with a sad grin that never made it to the rest of her face. "Of course, hon."

Tim set his holstered gun on the neighboring chair and rose. The therapist paused at the door, monitoring him before withdrawing.

Tim started at the beginning of the routine. Dray's bare sole fit perfectly, as always, in the curve of his hand. He'd stretched her enough, before their early-morning runs, to note that her muscles were now tight and cranky. He rotated her arms, compressed her shoulders, kneaded her neck.

He kissed her cool lips before slipping on his holster and heading back to work.