Grant bolted upright. What the–? He listened intently, thinking he heard something outside. Voices? He glanced over at Mary, who still slept soundly, her breathing soft and even. Huh. Maybe a dream had woken him. He rolled toward the window, and re-adjusted, his body still on high alert.
There. Footsteps. Someone running. He was sure of it.
He pushed aside the covers, careful not to disturb Mary. Crouching, Grant moved forward, intending to have a look outside the bedroom window. But in the next instant, he ducked as the window shattered, showering him and the room with glass fragments.
“Son of a bitch!” He sprang forward, wincing as shards cut into his feet, but needing to get to the window.
The light behind him suddenly illuminated the room. Immediately, tires squealed and the acrid smell of burning rubber burst through the now-missing panes. He was in time to see a small red pickup jump the curb and speed away from the house. His jaw clenched. Grant knew exactly who owned that vehicle.
Chest pounding, he lunged to the bedside table, snatched up his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1.
Sleepy eyes frowned at him from the bed. “What are you doing?” Mary mumbled. “Grant? What’s going on?”
“Don’t move!” he shouted.
Her eyes widened.
While Grant spoke to the police dispatcher, he surveyed the room, and got a sharp punch to the gut. A red brick lay not two feet from the bed. A hot rage burned through him. At another angle, that brick could’ve landed in their bed. Could’ve hit – he swallowed hard – Mary.
“Grant! What is it?”
He jerked his head toward the gaping hole now letting in a cold breeze. “Busted window.”
“Oh, my gosh.” Sitting upright, she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“No. Stay there a minute. I’ll pick you up. There’s glass everywhere.” He rolled across the bed, then tiptoed to the bathroom, and rinsed his punctured feet. Ignoring the scratches on his arm, he yanked on a pair of jeans and shirt, then grabbed shoes for both of them from the closet.
“How the hell did the window break?”
Grant blew out a heavy breath. “A brick.”
Mary’s hand covered her mouth. “Are you kidding me? Someone threw a brick in our window? That doesn’t–”
Returning to the bed, Grant helped her into the pink fuzzy robe that had been hanging in the bathroom. Then he lifted Mary in his arms. “Just a window. Let’s get you out of here.”
“Just a window, Grant?” Her voice quivered. “Isn’t that a lot like just a car? What’s next?”
He set her down in the hallway. He never imagined anything more would happen than the keyed car the night at Bailey’s. “I don’t know, but the police are on their way. I need to call Doug and get some boards. Why don’t you lie down in the guest room?”
“No. I’m already awake. I’ll start some coffee.”
He helped her to the kitchen, then grabbed a coat from the hall closet. Cold air coming from the living room stopped him in his tracks. The curtains billowed, and broken glass shimmered in the light from the front porch. Grant braced a hand against the framework between the two rooms. Another brick. This window had gone first, he realized. It’s what had initially woken him up. Shaking his head, he yanked open the front door, and met the police car outside.
Officer Tim Gleason and another man Grant didn’t know, approached the house.
Tim extended his hand and introduced his partner, Randy Winston.
“So, we’ve got some vandalism?” Tim asked.
“Right. Two bricks through the windows.”
Randy scribbled in a notebook.
“Cold night for missing windows,” Tim said. He clapped Grant on the shoulder. “Everybody okay?”
Grant grimaced but nodded. “Yeah.”
“Glad to hear it. Let’s have a look.”
Grant led the officers toward the front room. Gleason took some measurements and photographs, then they all traipsed to the bedroom.
“You can see the brick right there,” Grant said. “I haven’t moved anything.”
“You and your wife were asleep at the time?”
“That’s right.”
“Got any idea who’d do this or why?”
Grant clenched the doorknob with one hand and shoved the other in his pocket. “I know exactly who did it and why.”
The officer’s brows shot up. “You do?”
“Mary’s got a pot of coffee, why don’t we go sit down and talk,” Grant told him. The absurdity of that spiked Grant’s blood pressure. After one o’clock in the morning, when she should be sound asleep after a long day of travel, Mary was waiting in the kitchen to serve the police coffee. Unbelievable.
She looked up as they shuffled back down the hallway and unfolded herself from the chair in which she’d been curled up.
Tim nodded. “Ma’am.”
“Coffee?” she asked.
Grant strode to the kitchen. “I’ll get it.” He filled three mugs then ushered the men to the family room.
“So, what’s the story here?” Tim asked.
Raking a hand through his hair, Grant explained the situation with Essex. “Bobby Daniels was one of the men let go. I’ve heard rumors of tension on the home front. His boy did this.”
“You got proof?”
“Saw his truck leave my driveway. There’s probably a tire track in the yard where he went over the curb.”
They talked a while longer with both officers taking notes, and Grant growing impatient. He needed to get covering over the windows and get Mary back to bed.
“I’d like to take a look at those tracks,” Tim said.
The men thanked Mary for the coffee then headed back outside.
As Grant suspected, the latest snow had melted, leaving the ground soft and muddy. It created a perfect mold of Rob’s tire treads.
Rising from his crouched position, Tim snapped his notebook shut. “Okay, Grant. We’ll take it from here. We’ll file the report and be in touch.”
“Now, listen,” Grant said. “I don’t want to press charges. But I want you to talk some sense into this kid.” He held up a finger. “And I want it to stop. Period.”
“No charges?” Tim echoed. “You sure about that?”
Grant took a deep breath. “We aren’t hurt. It’s just windows,” he said, as much to remind himself as to explain his reasoning to Tim. “I don’t want to make things worse.”
“Uh-huh. Well, let’s file the report and see how it goes up the chain of command.”
“How ’bout making the kid do some community service? Or pay for the repairs?”
“Can’t be a penalty if there’s no charge,” Tim said.
“All right, then. Tell them I won’t press charges if the kid agrees to community service?”
“We’ll be in touch,” was Tim’s only response.
Fine. Grant would talk it over with the chief later. He gave the officers a curt nod and took out his cell phone. He hated to disturb anyone else at this hour, but he needed help with the windows. He punched Doug’s number. Doug was always building something, and sure to have enough lumber on hand to get the job done.
“Be there as soon as I can get it loaded,” Doug told him, when Grant explained the situation.
“I’ll meet you at your place,” Grant offered.
“No. You stay put.”
“Six sheets ought to do it,” Grant said, surveying the gaping hole in the front of his home.
“Won’t take long,” Doug told him.
Still swearing under his breath, Grant strode back to the house to update Mary. He stopped short when he found her huddled inside a blanket on the family room sofa. Wide eyes met his. Her face was pale. “Mary? You okay?”
“Look at this.” She lifted a bag of frozen corn from under the blanket. “I– I think I broke my wrist.” Her words were soft and strained. “Tried to catch myself.”
“What?” In two great strides, Grant knelt beside her. “What happened?”
“Oh, you know. Thought I’d grab those mugs and clean up.”
“Couldn’t have waited until morning, huh?”
Her lips turned in an attempted smile. “It is morning.”
“Right.” Gently, he touched her swollen arm as she tried to extend it. He could see pain in her pinched lips. “Oh, baby. That’s surely broken. We’ve got to get you to the hospital.” He slid his arm under her knees, ready to pick her up, then let go. It’d be hard to get her into the car without banging into things in the garage. “Let me pull the car around. Don’t move.”
He ran back to the bedroom to get his keys, then headed for the car. A minute later, he jogged back inside the house. “Okay, sweetheart, this might hurt a bit, but I’ve got to get you in the car.”
She nodded.
“Mary? Hang in there.” The glazed look in her eyes sent his heart pounding, and he put his face in front of hers. “Come on. Don’t pass out on me.” He pressed the frozen bag to her arm, then cradled her against his chest. She let out only one soft gasp as he wrestled her into the seat and fastened the seatbelt around her.
“I’ll be right back.” He hurried back to the house and slammed the front door shut.
“What about the house?” Mary asked when Grant slid in beside her.
“Not going to worry about that now. Doug will take care of it. He’s got some boards for the windows.”
“Oh.”
Grant made another call to Doug as he drove the short distance to Whitfield Community Hospital. With that under control, he glanced at Mary. “How’d this happen, darlin’?”
She turned toward the window. “I just fell.”
Grant pulled the car into the circle drive of the hospital, and once again lifted Mary into his arms. The receptionist inside stepped from behind the counter and pushed a wheelchair toward them.
“Hi, folks. What’s going on here?”
Grant deposited Mary into the chair and once again explained what had happened, though skipping most of the details about the vandalism. “Looks like a broken wrist.”
“Yeah. Let’s get you checked in, and I’ll call a nurse.”
Ten minutes later, a nurse appeared. “Come on back.” She motioned them into a small examination room.
“Is there a doctor here?”
The woman smiled and shook her head. “On call. He can be here in a few minutes.”
“Is Dana here?” Mary asked.
“Dana Gerard? She comes in at eight.”
“Mary, it’s three in the morning,” Grant reminded her.
“Oh, yeah.”
“Let’s make you more comfortable, Mary,” the nurse said. “Sir, can you help me?”
They lifted Mary onto the reclining table. “Sit tight. The doctor will be in shortly.”
Grant immediately recognized Dr. Greg Talisman when he entered the room twenty minutes later. As head physician, he was well-known in town. Wasn’t in Grant’s immediate circle of friends, but certainly respected as a leader in the community. Grant extended his hand and received a hearty shake in return. Once more, Grant explained the mishap.
“Just clumsy,” Mary added with a wan smile.
“That happens,” Dr. Talisman said. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get it fixed up.” He settled onto the rolling stool and examined Mary’s arm. “Looks like a clean break. Good job keeping that frozen pack on it. Still a little swollen, though. May need to let the swelling go down before we can set a cast. We’ll go ahead and get some X-rays, though.”
While Talisman and the nurse tended to Mary, Grant stepped into the hall to respond to Doug’s text message. He reported that the windows were sealed and asked if Jane should come up and keep Mary company.
Thanks, buddy. Negative on company. Maybe tomorrow. Which, of course, was really today. Grant raked a hand through his hair and leaned against the wall, replaying the whole incident in his head. Grant hadn’t had a chance to ask the doctor about looking at her foot. With Mary in and out of sleep, he doubted she’d thought to mention it.
It was nearly seven-thirty by the time the cast was finally set.
“We’ll have you folks on your way soon,” Dr. Talisman said. “I can write a script for pain meds, but–”
Grant held up a hand. “Hang on a sec, doctor. We’ve got to figure out why she’s falling. What’s going on with her foot? We came home early from Phoenix so that she could try and get in to see her doctor. There’s a problem with her left leg. Keeps giving out on her. She’s achy and tired, and–”
“Hey, Grant. What in the world are you two doing here?” Dana breezed into the room, and moved toward him, but her glance went from Mary to the doctor. She took Grant’s hand, and he pulled her into a quick hug. Her presence was a relief. Maybe she’d have some ideas or be able to make some things happen. Grant leaned over the bed. “Hey, sweetheart, Dana’s here.” Mary didn’t stir.
“What’s going on?” Dana asked again.
“Couple of things.”
“Yeah?” She raised her brows at the doctor. “Greg?”
“We’ve set her broken wrist, but Mr. Logan says she’s had some other issues recently. I’m looking at some lab results now. Just came through.”
“Lab results?” Grant asked. “From what?” Mary hadn’t mentioned any lab work to him.
“Oh, my gosh,” Dana exclaimed. “What happened here?” She leaned in and touched the bruises on Mary’s upper arm, then swiveled toward Grant.
He shook his head, hating that his hand had marred Mary’s skin. “I had to catch her to keep her from falling in Phoenix yesterday.”
“Oh, Grant. So, she’s had two falls?” Dana asked.
Dr. Talisman interrupted. “Looks like she was in last week for an exam, and Dr. Bates ordered a complete analysis.”
“Good,” Dana said. “That’s exactly what I recommended.”
“Last week?” Grant echoed.
Dana cocked her head at him. “What’s wrong, Grant?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. What’s the report say?”
Dr. Talisman shot him a cool glance then continued to study the screen of the Ipad in his hands. “Let’s see…not finding a release form. Not sure I can discuss–”
Dana held out her hand. “May I see it?”
Grant drew in a deep breath, trying to keep from losing patience. He watched Dana’s face for any clue while she flicked a finger over the screen. “Looks like Dr. Bates hasn’t made any notes about the report yet.”
“What does the report say?” Grant asked again. “What are we dealing with here?”
Dana pressed her lips together and her eyes met his. “I’m sorry, Grant. Dr. Bates hasn’t made any assessment.”
Dana turned to Dr. Talisman. “Is she sedated?”
“Some pain meds, but–”
“For God’s sake, she doesn’t need to be sedated,” Grant said, his voice rising. “All she’s done for the past week is sleep. She’s tired all the time. She’s having headaches and can hardly lift her foot. I don’t–”
Dana took his arm. “Hey. Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. Why don’t we try to wake her up?”
“It’s not going to matter,” Dr. Talisman said. “I can’t interpret the data without discussing it with Dr. Bates.”
“Have you contacted her?” Dana asked.
“No. This report just came through.”
“Okay, let’s have one of the nurses send a message.”
“I was about to send them home,” Talisman said. “Really no reason to keep her any longer.”
“Can we wait until we hear from Dr. Bates? Since Mary’s asleep, anyway? We don’t need the room, do we?”
“No. But we do need to start morning rounds.”
“Right. Why don’t you get started? We can let Mary sleep a little longer while we wait to hear from Dr. Bates. How’s that sound?”
Talisman nodded and moved toward the door. “Could I talk to you a minute?” he asked Dana.
“Sure.”
Grant watched as the doctor took Dana’s arm and steered her into the hallway, then he sank into the chair next to the bed. What the hell was Mary thinking? She’d gone to the doctor last week and not told him? The whole time they were in Phoenix she’d known that lab work was under way? And she hadn’t said a word.
Nervous energy sent him out of the chair and pacing the floor. At Mary’s side again, Grant ran a finger over the purple smudges on her upper arm. An ugly reminder of a scary moment. He couldn’t help but wonder if there were more to come.
Dana returned and moved to the other side of Mary. She spoke softly. “Hey, Grant? We’ve put a call into Dr. Bates. Try to take it easy, okay?” She pushed the hair back from Mary’s forehead. “Poor thing. She’s really wiped out.”
* * *
Mary opened her eyes. She blinked, trying to clear her head. This wasn’t– Oh, right. They were in Phoenix. No, wait. They’d come home. She lifted her hand, and memory flooded in. What a night. Another fall. A broken wrist. She let out a heavy sigh, and Grant turned from the window.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey. How do you feel?” he asked, walking toward her.
Mary looked around, as if the answer was out there somewhere. “I don’t know. Okay, I guess. Except for this.” She held up the heavy arm, which now sported an ever-so-attractive clunky cast. What a nuisance that was going to be. “I can’t believe I–”
“Since when do we keep secrets from each other, darlin’?”
She stared at him. Admittedly, her brain was a bit sluggish, but that question made no sense. “What? What are you talking about?”
“Blood tests?”
Oh. She closed her eyes. Damn. How did he find out about those? She drew in a deep breath and met the hurt eyes leveled on her. “How do you know about the tests? Is Dr. Bates here?”
“No. We’re waiting to hear from her.”
“Then how do–”
“Apparently the lab results are part of your medical file.”
Mary attempted to sit up, struggling without the use of her left arm, Grant pushed a button, and the back of the bed lifted her to a sitting position. “Thanks.” She bit her lip, almost afraid to ask the next question. “What do they say?”
“No idea. They won’t tell me a damned thing without the doctor’s notes.”
“Oh, Grant.” She held out her hand to him. He took it, but she could see the disappointment lingering in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I– I didn’t want you to worry while we were gone.”
“Were you worried?”
“A little.”
He brushed a hand across her forehead. “Is it better to worry alone?”
Mary choked, half laughing, half crying, and Grant bundled her into his arms.
“Don’t ever do that again.”
Nodding, Mary swiped at the tears that escaped. Crying wasn’t her thing. Wasn’t pretty. But the thought of what those tests could reveal…her doctor’s list of potential outcomes echoed in her ears. Her stomach fluttered, and she clutched Grant’s shirt. “I could be really sick, Grant.”
He pulled back to look at her, his eyes wide. “Why would you think that?”
“Dr. Bates said…well, she said my symptoms could be serious. Bad stuff.”
His eyes narrowed. “She told you that before the tests?
“I pushed her. Threatened her.”
“You threatened your doctor?” Grant shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Don’t act so surprised,” Mary said with a wry smile. “I told her if she didn’t tell me what she was thinking I’d get online and do some research. Funny thing, doctors don’t like website medicine.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Grant said. “So did you?”
“What?”
“Do online research.”
“No. I promised not to, and I didn’t want to ruin our trip. So much for that.”
Grant squeezed her hand. “Listen, let’s wait and see what she has to say. Looks like the results were sent, but she hadn’t had a chance to process them. I’ll go find out if they’ve heard anything.”
Grant returned a few minutes later with Dana in tow, and Jane following behind.
“Oh, Jane. Thanks for coming up. I hope you got a little sleep last night.”
“No problem. Sorry to hear the news, though.”
“Speaking of news,” Dana said. “I just got off the phone with Dr. Bates. She can come now if you want to stick around another hour, or you can go home, and she’ll work you in at ten-fifteen tomorrow at the clinic. What’s your pleasure?”
Pleasure? Hmmm. How about getting right back on an airplane and heading south again?
Grant answered before Mary could. “Let’s stay put. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow if we can talk to her today.”
Mary nodded, suddenly ready to have it over with. Surely knowing would be better than wondering – and worrying.
An hour later, almost to the minute, a light tap on the door interrupted the conversation. Without warning, Mary’s chest thumped when Dr. Bates stepped inside the room.
Jane made a hasty exit. “We’ll see you later, hon. I’ll bring dinner.”
Dana handed Dr. Bates the Ipad. “Call the nurses’ station if you need anything,” she told them before she, too, headed for the door. “I’ll be in my office.”
Mary made introductions, and then waited in silence while Dr. Bates scanned the tablet in her hands.
“Well,” she said, finally, with a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid I don’t have a lot of answers for you. The tests overall look quite normal.”
“How is that possible?” Grant asked, an unusual impatience in his voice.
“Many of the conditions associated with Mary’s symptoms don’t show up in a simple blood test. These tests are a starting point to give us baseline data.” She turned a sympathetic grimace on Mary. “It looks like we’re going to have to do some additional testing.”
Mary kept her eyes focused on the doctor. She couldn’t look at Grant. Didn’t want to look at Grant.
“But first,” Dr. Bates continued. “Tell me what’s been happening and how you ended up in here.”
Mary and Grant took turns, each filling in the blanks where the other left off or left something out.
“So, the numbness in your foot may have worsened a bit.”
“Maybe, but either way, I don’t trust it. Every time I get up now, I have to test it. I’m afraid I’ll fall again.”
“Me, too,” Dr. Bates said. “You need to start using a simple cane or a claw-foot. You don’t want to end up back in here with a concussion or worse. I want you to see a neurologist, and I’m ordering an MRI. We need to start narrowing things down and ruling out as many conditions as possible.” She glanced from Mary to Grant, and back again. “I hate to tell you, but this could dominate your life for the next several weeks.”
Grant squeezed Mary’s hand. “Probably good timing,” he said. “At least we got past the wedding. You can slow down now. Not much goes on between Thanksgiving and New Year’s.”
Mary stared at him. Was he crazy? It might typically be a slow time for him, but not for her. “Yeah, just that little thing called Christmas.”
“The girls can help.”
Help what? Fix Christmas dinner? Mary almost laughed. That was one tiny sliver of the Christmas pie – a blip on the calendar. In her world, the holidays were the busiest time of year. Next week was the combined November/December council meeting. Right after that was the Mayor’s Christmas tree lighting ceremony, and the council always hosted a holiday party for city employees. Mary always took some bell-ringing shifts and helped with the fundraising gift wrap table at the bank. She always–
“Mary?” Dr. Bates cleared her throat. “You okay?”
“Oh, sure.” Swallowing hard, Mary forced her attention back to her doctor. “An MRI?”
“Yes. We can do it in Paxton, but you might consider having it done in Wichita or Kansas City. I know good neurologists either place. They might prefer to take care of it there. Do you have a preference?”
“Kansas City,” Grant said firmly. “They have better specialists and facilities there. Chances are we could mess around here for weeks and then end up going there, anyway. Let’s cut to the chase.”
“Want to tell us what you really think, hon?” Mary asked.
Dr. Bates stood. “I’ll get some names for you. Call right away. If you can’t get in soon, let me know and we can at least go ahead and do the MRI in Paxton.”
Mary licked her lips before she spoke. “What exactly is the MRI going to tell us?”
Dr. Bates turned a consoling smile on Mary. “Hopefully it’s going to show us what’s going on inside your brain, and then we’ll know what we’re dealing with. It will rule out a brain tumor and maybe MS. If there are lesions that indicate MS, the neurologist will probably do a spinal tap to confirm.” She held up a hand as she met Mary’s eyes. “Remember, there are a number of conditions that have similar symptoms. It might take some time to pin down an exact diagnosis.”
“Based on what you know, you’re leaning toward MS?” Grant asked.
Mary held her breath, waiting for a response.
The doctor’s features clouded. “I just can’t say right now. I’m sorry.”