Chapter 85
I CAN’T REMEMBER exactly what I was dreaming about, but it was pleasant. I think my subconscious tried to ignore the persistent poking on my shoulder. I came awake quickly with minimal confusion.
I looked up into the face of a doctor wearing blue scrubs but no surgical cap. “I’m sorry to wake you, Sergeant. I’m getting ready to go off shift and wanted to give you an update on your friend Alain Creasy.”
I twisted my head to crack my neck and glanced up at the wall clock. I was astonished to see that it was eight thirty in the morning. I sat up straight and tried to compose myself quickly. Then I stood up, held out my hand, and said, “Lindsay Boxer.”
The doctor, who had colorful pins in her hair and lovely brown eyes, took my hand. “I’m Lisa Dozier. I performed the surgery on Mr. Creasy.”
“Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, Doctor. How’s he doing?”
“He’s resting. The bullet entered between two ribs and somehow managed to avoid any internal organs except nicking one lung. The biggest issue is that he lost a lot of blood, but I think he’ll be up for a visitor sometime later this afternoon.”
We spoke for a few more minutes. Dr. Dozier was also a local girl. She’d even gone to college and medical school at Stanford. There’s no reason to leave your hometown when everything you need to succeed is close by.
Then my phone vibrated, and I realized my phone had been on silent all night long. I had missed fourteen phone calls and almost twenty texts. This most recent text was ordering me to appear at police headquarters down in Mission Bay by 9 a.m.
Only an administrator would’ve sent a text like that. Probably someone who’d never been in a shooting or had to stay all night in a hospital chair.
I sighed but didn’t complain. It was part of the job.