Chapter 26
Twenty-Six
For the first few minutes of the trip to the hospital, Mo cooperated with everything the paramedic asked him to do.
He’d known Kyle for years, and he didn’t want to keep the guy from doing his job.
But when there was a pause in the action, he finally asked, “Did I need to take the ambulance? Couldn’t we have driven ourselves? ”
Kyle smirked. “You could have. But if you drove to the ER, you’d be put in line with everyone else and you’d have to wait.
Possibly a long time. When you arrive via ambulance, you get first-class treatment.
” He seemed to think better of what he’d said.
“Not that you don’t receive excellent care normally.
But you go to the front of the line when you roll in with us.
And Dr. Shaw will have already called ahead and talked to the docs.
They know her. And better, they like her.
My guess is they’ll have you scanned, stitched, and on your way home before dawn. ”
“Assuming he doesn’t have a concussion, right?” Bronwyn’s voice was husky, and Mo wanted to close his eyes and soak in the sound. But if he closed his eyes, she would freak out. On another day that might be funny. But today was not that day.
“Eh.” Kyle wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Mo’s arm. “Even if he does have a concussion, they’ll probably send him home.” He smiled at Bronwyn and there was something in that smile that Mo did not like at all. “Don’t worry.”
“I’ll worry until he’s fine, thank you very much.”
Mo squeezed her hand. “I am fine.”
She breathed in through her nose. “No. Nope. Not listening to that. You have bullet wounds and a possible head injury. Bullet wounds, Mo. That is the very definition of not fine.”
“Okay.” He squeezed her hand again. “I’m not fine at the moment, but I will be fine.”
She blinked rapidly. Was she about to cry? He wished Kyle wasn’t here. He wanted to talk to her and tell her he really was fine and that he’d missed her and . . .
He reined in those thoughts. Talk about an overreaction.
She was speaking to him again. She was worried about him. But that didn’t mean anything more. Not to her. And it shouldn’t mean more to him either.
They didn’t really know each other anymore.
And he couldn’t assume anything.
But she wasn’t even trying to remove her hand from his. So for now, he’d take that.
They rode the entire way to the hospital with nothing more than a few comments from Kyle as he checked Mo’s vitals.
When they arrived at the emergency room, he was pulled away from Bronwyn with no ceremony. Before they rolled him down the hall, he called out to her. “Bronwyn?”
“Yeah?”
“If I’d known, I’d have let Cal shoot me a long time ago.”
She half laughed, half sobbed. “You’re an idiot.” They wheeled him away before she could say more. He hoped Cal and Meredith weren’t far behind and would wait with her. The thought of her alone in the waiting area did something unpleasant to his insides.
Not that his insides were particularly happy. He felt a little queasy, and his head was pounding.
He hoped he didn’t have a concussion. He’d had one before, and it made it hard to do his job.
And now, more than ever, he needed to be able to do his job.
As the doctor scanned his head, stitched up his wounds, and then left him to wait for the results of the tests, Mo considered the list of possible suspects and targets.
He couldn’t come up with a solid reason for anyone to target him.
Even if they were afraid he would find something in The Haven’s accounts that would expose their crimes—and that was a valid concern—it wasn’t as if he was the only forensic accountant in the world.
He could think of at least five others who could do the job.
Taking him out of the picture wouldn’t prevent the discrepancies from being uncovered.
But it would delay them, and maybe the delay would be reason enough.
Maybe.
It seemed far more likely to him that Bronwyn had been the target.
Take Bronwyn out of the picture, and Nathan would be CEO. And he would be far less likely to dig too deep. Nathan struck Mo as the kind of man who wouldn’t rock the boat.
He might even be the one responsible for the discrepancies. If that were the case, he would carry on as before, with no one to stop him.
Mo shifted on the hospital bed. His head ached. His arm and leg throbbed. He wanted to go to sleep.
But he also wanted to get to the bottom of this whole mess.
An interminable hour later, the doctor came back into his room. “Well, Mr. Quinn, I’m going to discharge you. There’s no sign of concussion, although I have no doubt your head will talk to you for the next little while.”
He dispensed his medical wisdom, told Mo to follow up with his family doctor, and laughed when Mo pointed out that his family doctor would chase him down if he didn’t.
When he walked out with his discharge papers in hand, he found Meredith and Bronwyn huddled together on the plastic seats of the waiting room. They jumped to their feet, but Meredith was the only one who came to him.
Bronwyn hung back and looked like she didn’t know what to do with herself.
“Well?” Meredith asked after she gave him a gentle hug.
“All clear.” He spoke loud enough for Bronwyn to hear. “No concussion. Minimal scarring expected.”
“Thank goodness.” Meredith led him toward Bronwyn, and when they reached her, she gave him an awkward smile, then bolted for the door.
Meredith sighed.
He pointed toward Bronwyn’s retreating back. “What’s that about?”
Meredith shrugged. “She’s embarrassed.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Meredith said airily. “Maybe because she refused to speak to you for a few years, then when you got shot, she came unglued and, in her words, ‘Made a fool out of herself.’ And now she’s not sure how to act around you.”
Mo waited for Meredith to laugh. She didn’t. “Wait. You’re serious? You aren’t guessing? She said those exact words?”
“She did.”
They didn’t speak again as they walked to Cal’s truck. Cal waited in the patient pickup area. Bronwyn had already climbed into the back. His King Cab had plenty of room for all of them, but the back seat was a little tight.
Meredith squeezed his good arm. “You’ll figure it out. I have no doubt. For now, I’ll climb in the back with Bronwyn.”
He should let her. It would be more comfortable to ride in the front. But . . . “That’s okay. I’d rather have the back.”
She didn’t stop walking or even look at him, but he sensed her surprise and something else. Approval?
He opened the door and then climbed into the back. Cal quirked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Meredith made sure he was settled, then climbed into the front seat beside Cal. “We’re ready to roll.”
Bless her for keeping things as normal as possible.
He shifted in his seat, and despite his best efforts, a grunt of pain escaped through his teeth.
Bronwyn’s hand shot toward him, then froze in midair. She pulled it back, but he caught it. He leaned back in the seat, closed his eyes, and laced his fingers through hers. “Thanks. That helps.”
Again, she didn’t pull away.
He’d count it as a win.
Bronwyn could barely keep her eyes open. She didn’t think she’d been this tired in a decade. All things considered, they’d gotten in and out of the hospital in record time. But it would be 3:00 a.m. before she could crawl into bed, and she wasn’t sure she’d be functional tomorrow. Today. Whenever.
She shifted in her seat. How was it possible to be this exhausted and this edgy at the same time? Mo wouldn’t let go of her hand, and she wasn’t about to tell him to.
He wasn’t drugged. He wasn’t concussed. But was he truly lucid? What would happen tomorrow? Or the next day?
His thumb made slow sweeping motions across her hand. Then he leaned toward her and whispered, “I’m going to beat you at Chinese checkers.”
It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. And somehow, it was perfect. “In your dreams.”
They continued to sit in silence, lulled by the sway of the truck as it wound its way up the mountain.
A random thought popped into her brain. “I hope Lionel put the ice cream back in the freezer.”
Mo’s body shook with silent laughter.
“I’m serious,” she said.
“I know you are. That’s what makes it so funny.” He yawned. “Is Katrina okay?”
“She is. She made it home. With her ice cream, I might add.”
“How do you know that?” Meredith asked, turning toward the back seat.
“Because she texted that it was the best thing she’d ever eaten and that it was exactly what she’d needed to help her decompress.
Gray let her go after he questioned her, but he said she may need to come in tomorrow.
Or today? Or is it tomorrow?” It was her turn to yawn. “I guess Gray needs to talk to us too.”
“No one is doing any talking until you sleep.” Cal was in Papa Bear mode. “Dad got all the cars back to our place. I’m going to drive you straight home. Mo, you can sleep in your own bed. Bronwyn, you can either stay with Meredith or you can stay in our guest room, or you can have the tiny house.”
Cal’s tiny house was empty now that Cassie was married and she and Donovan had moved into their own place, but Cal kept it guest ready.
“I think someone should stay with Mo,” Bronwyn said.
At her words, Mo, eyebrows raised, turned his body toward Bronwyn. “The doctor cleared me.”
“The doctor wasn’t there when you were shot. He’s allowed to be objective.” She didn’t say that her objectivity had disappeared and she couldn’t find it. That would be too revealing. Of what, she wasn’t sure. But she wasn’t mentally competent at the moment.
“I have to be in the office at seven.” Meredith yawned.
Bronwyn yawned in response.
“I’m driving Landry to work and then I’m meeting some new clients on their property at eight.” Cal tapped the steering wheel with his thumbs. “Congratulations, Bronwyn, you’re on Mo babysitting duty.”
Bronwyn wasn’t sure if she should thank him or strangle him. Maybe both.
Mo leaned toward her again. “I don’t need a babysitter. But I don’t want you going anywhere alone.”
There was an intensity in his words that did something to her on the inside.
“Bronwyn? You good with that?” Cal asked.
“Of course. I was already planning to work from home today. No one’s expecting me in the office.”
“Great. The problem is that you can’t stay at Mo’s. He has a twin bed in his bedroom with a sofa so small, even Eliza couldn’t sleep on it. Oh, and a single chair in his living room. It’s like he doesn’t want company.”
Meredith chimed in. “I have a solution. You two go to my place. I’m the only one who had the good sense to put two beds in my house. Yes, you can all tell me I was right. Go ahead.”
No one spoke.
“I get no credit.” Meredith put on a lofty air. “But we all know it’s true. Anyway, I’ll sleep at Mo’s. Bronwyn can have my bed. Mo can take the guest bed. I’ll come back over in the morning and get ready.”
“Can’t you take your stuff and get ready at my place?” Mo asked, his eyes still closed.
“I could. But I’m not going to. I’ll grab my clothes, but I won’t need anything else from upstairs. You’ll sleep right through it.”
Both Cal and Mo laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Bronwyn asked.
Meredith answered. “These two chuckleheads claim that they can hear me getting ready from their places.”
Bronwyn considered it. “The houses are very close together. I can see how that’s a possibility.”
Mo groaned. “You don’t understand. She is the loudest person in the universe.
She grinds coffee beans. She makes smoothies.
She blends things. I don’t know what she’s doing over there.
I swear she’s making fresh almond butter or something.
Whatever it is, it’s loud. If we’re trying to sleep right above her, I guarantee she’ll wake us up. ”
Meredith’s affronted huff made Cal and Mo laugh more. “It’s true,” Cal added. “Sometimes I think I can still hear you from my house.”
“You cannot.”
“Mo and Bronwyn, make a note. When you build a house, be sure you go heavy on the soundproofing.”
Mo’s thumb didn’t pause at Cal’s words. But his hand did squeeze hers a fraction. “You’ll be building the house, so why don’t you make the note?”
“Consider it done.”
What . . . what had just happened?
“I’m just teasing you, Meredith.” Mo’s words were a little slurred. “You can come wake me up. I have work to do.”
“Sure you do, big guy.” Cal sounded exasperated. “It’s like trying to convince Eliza to go to bed when she’s so tired she can barely walk.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mo’s words really did sound wrong. Was this a problem? Could he be having some issues from hitting his head?
“It means you need sleep. Stop being so argumentative. Hush. We’ll be home in twenty. I don’t want to hear another word out of you.”
Mo leaned toward Bronwyn. “He’s really embraced the whole dad thing, don’t you think?”
Bronwyn tried not to laugh but couldn’t stifle her giggles. “I don’t think he had far to go, but yes.”
“I can hear you, you know.” Cal’s mock stern tone set her off again and Bronwyn’s laughter broke free. If it had a bit of a hysterical edge, that was okay, right?
“I’m not taking either of you seriously until you get sleep.
” Cal caught Bronwyn’s eye in the rearview mirror and winked.
“We’ll discuss your behavior tonight. Eliza was too worried about both of you to be upset about missing the firepit, but Landry promised her we’d do it tonight to make up for it. ”
“What does Eliza know?” Mo asked, his voice a low hum.
“Not that you were shot. We told her that there was a situation at the grocery store, that you were hurt, and that we had to go to the hospital with you. But she knows you’re fine now.”
“Do you think she believed that?” Bronwyn didn’t know how much Eliza remembered about her life before Gossamer Falls, but her memories of her more recent abduction were fresh. She was doing well, but everyone knew that traumatic experiences could hit her extra hard.
“She believed me when I told her you were fine, but she doesn’t believe that she’s been told the whole story.”
“You need to tell her.” Mo’s voice was hard. Not without compassion, but firm. “I bet it’s all over town by now. If you don’t tell her, someone else will, and then you’ll be the bad guy for not being honest with her.”
Cal sighed. “I know. But I didn’t want Landry to deal with it alone. I’ll talk to her before I leave for work.”
Meredith leaned her head against the glass and blew out a huge sigh. “I want our town to be back to normal. Where no one gets shot at in the grocery store parking lot or snatched by stalkers or chased down by drug dealers.”
Bronwyn didn’t respond, but all she could think was, Same, girl. Same.