Chapter 21 Lance #2
Lynn jumped about a foot in the air and stumbled back, paperwork flying. “Holy shit! What the hell?”
Lance lowered his arm and heaved his legs around the side of the bed. The extra juice he’d stolen from the stun gun had given a nice boost to his lacking reserves, but if the law had become the enemy outright, he needed more than a temporary fix. There wasn’t much to be done about that, though.
Lynn rounded on him as he grabbed his socks out of the tub. “What the hell just happened?” She pointed at Morty’s slumped, unconscious form. “I swear it looked like he was about to shoot me!”
Managing to maneuver so that he didn’t flash the only surprise he had left to offer, Lance tugged the easier sock on first and said, “That’s because he was.
Can you see where his gun went?” He switched legs, moving with no less urgency but enough of a twinge to remind him he wasn’t done healing yet.
“That’s insane,” Lynn said even as she dropped to a crouch.
She began grabbing up the papers she’d flung, and paused when she should clearly have been shuffling to the side.
“Be careful, it’s practically behind your left foot.
” She raised her gaze up to his with narrowed eyes.
“None of this makes sense. Why would he even be here? Why was his gun drawn? And what the hell happened to him?”
Lance rocked forward to ascertain the position of the handgun, then reached back and swiftly ripped the casing off the pillow he’d been sleeping on.
It was imperfect, but it’d do. While he worked on securing the gun, he said, “I bet you know the answers to all of those questions, sweetheart. For what it’s worth, though I’m sure he deserves it, I promise he’s not dead. ”
Lynn stood and eyed the sheriff again. “I should check on him. I’m not sure what you did, but he hit his head and he hasn’t stirred.”
“He’s unconscious, the head bump was a nice bonus, and I know how to modulate my voltage,” Lance said, going for honesty as much because time was of the essence as because he didn’t want to lie to her. He snapped the tag off his new pants and shook them out so he could tug them on.
“Your voltage,” Lynn repeated, as if the words were foreign.
He paused and looked up to meet her gaze, offering her a flash of a grin she probably wasn’t in the headspace to appreciate. Then he asked, “What’s the hospital’s policy on attempted murder?”
Her eyes widened before he returned his focus to his task, but he heard the glare in her tone when she spoke again. “Please don’t tell me you held back only to avoid us cuffing you to a bed and calling the police.”
Lance barked out a laugh as he worked his belt through the loops on his new pants.
“No,” he said. “I mean, you’ll probably need security to restrain him.
” Finally dressed enough to be decent, he ripped off the damn hospital gown and dropped it onto the bed he’d be happy to leave behind.
“Counting aiming at you, he made two attempts to end a life in this room in less than five minutes. He openly confessed to me his whole intention in coming here today was to end my life. Unfortunately for him, he overestimated his abilities.” He tugged his shirt over his head and swiftly tucked it in before securing the belt buckle.
“Worse for him, I’m clear-headed and my chart will back that up if we finish this the legal way and I get to testify. ”
Lynn pursed her lips, looking between them like she didn’t know how to process the situation for a long second.
Her brow dipped and she stepped up to him, pressing what he assumed to be his prescription papers and whatever other discharge paperwork was standard into his chest. “These are for you, don’t lose them.
” Then she shifted to the side and grabbed the pillowcase.
“I’ll take this and fetch security. Try not to touch the sheriff again unless he forces your hand. ”
Lance bit back a smile. “Yes, ma’am.” He’d tell security about the stun gun in the sheriff’s pocket, rather than put Lynn’s fingerprints on it.
Once Lynn was out of the room, Lance grabbed his phone to shoot off a quick text.
Jon needed to know that the sheriff had heavily implied his involvement in some shit.
Asshole Senior took a shot at me in the hospital and missed.
He should be off the board for a minute.
But he made some implicative comments in the process that have me thinking there’s a deeper reason the department refused to take that report.
You’re not just up against the cartel, Jon. Be careful.
I’m good, by the way. Stalled, probably, but good.
Commotion in the hall had Lance dropping his phone into the nearest accessible pocket. He still needed his boots. He quickly pocketed his wallet and charge cable, snatched up the boots, and hobbled to one of the two guest chairs.
He had the first one half laced when two men filed in. They looked at the sheriff who’d started to groan by their feet, then across at Lance, who continued lacing his boot.
Lance gave a jerk of his chin. “There’s a stun gun in the left front coat pocket,” he said. “Pretty sure it’s dead or defective. I’d presume he’s got more weapons on him, but I didn’t search him.”
The pair looked around the room, obviously uncertain about the right course of action.
“What the hell are you doing?” Lynn snapped from behind the two. “Get that man up and detained on this gurney before he’s functional enough to hurt someone!”
The leaner of the two turned to glance over his shoulder. “You want us to detain the guy on the floor? The one that’s half unconscious?”
His colleague, with broader shoulders and a donut belly, added, “This guy’s a sheriff.”
“Yes,” Lynn said, “he also came striding in here, attempted to kill a patient, and then pointed a gun at me. Or did you miss that part?” Her tone sharpened. “Your job is to make this place safe for the rest of us. Get his ass on that bed and strap him down.”
Morty was clearly coming to, based on the way he sucked in a hard breath and moved an arm to prop himself up. He groaned again, the sound morphing into something like a slurred insult.
Lance pushed to his feet. “Gentlemen,” he said, “if you aren’t up to it, I’m gonna need you to clear a path. Lifting that deadweight over my shoulders is gonna hurt like hell.” Which would be his excuse for dumping the piece of shit none-too-gently onto the gurney that had wheeled up at the door.
“Absolutely not!” Lynn said, projecting her voice from the hallway.
Morty moved a hand over his coat like he was looking for something and his eyes popped open. He had the eyes of a man who was out of control.
Lance had seen the type too many times before.
“Freak,” Morty muttered, finally getting a foot underneath himself enough to use the wall at his back to help him stand. “You’re a—”
The security twins stepped in front of him, visually and physically cutting him off. “Sorry, Sheriff,” the larger one said, “but you don’t get to break the rules.”
“Let go of me,” Morty demanded as the pair hauled him bodily toward the doorway. Morty struggled like a petulant child. “You can’t do this! I’m a goddamn sheriff!”
Another pair of hands joined in when they reached the gurney, and the three men wrestled with the older man to get him into position on the bed.
Lance watched in frustration as Lynn helped strap the bastard down until he was restrained enough that someone else could let go.
She stepped back, her back to the door, and they watched in a strange unison as the spitting and cursing Sheriff of Leeland County was wheeled away.
When it was quiet again, Lynn released a breath and stepped properly into the room, easing the door quietly shut. For a moment, Lance swore he saw her shoulders shake.
He opened his mouth and took a step forward.
“The doctor will be here soon to talk to you,” she said, straightening and facing him. “I told him the situation as I had witnessed it, which was enough to earn me security, but he’ll want the full version from you. I imagine the police will, too.”
Lance rolled his jaw. “The full version, huh?” It wasn’t like he never told people. But he’d had a lot of time to scour the internet in the last few days, and he’d seen some of the shit that was still brewing. Probably being so open about what he could do was more dangerous than it ought to be.
Lynn came closer and lowered her voice. “If you can think of another way to explain that damage to his uniform, and explain what you might have done from your bed to save me in time, then you should be fine to leave out the other detail.”
He raised a brow. “I thought you told your boss?”
She shrugged. “I must have blinked for that part. It all happened so fast.”
He grinned.
“Also,” Lynn added, speaking faster, “while the doctor’s here, I’m going to slip out and call the lawyer Jenna and I roped in to deal with that department. She’s definitely going to want to know about this. And she might want to talk to you, too, if that’s okay?”
A firm tap sounded at the door, but Lance kept his eyes on Lynn and his expression calm. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Her eyes warmed with a smile she didn’t let show on her lips and she moved back as the doctor strode in.
Lance shifted his focus to the silver-haired man with practiced patience. He might have been able to get dressed, but it looked like he wasn’t escaping the hospital anytime soon.