Chapter 48

 

Gracie clutched her throbbing right arm next to her body as she limped along. She’d lost track of the number of turns Morrell had made and each time she came to an intersection she searched for anything familiar. She spotted the rack of sweaters he’d tried to shove into her. A young shop clerk with purple hair and a lot of piercings was re-hanging the garments that had fallen. The hotel wasn’t much farther.

Pen came rushing up to her when she rounded the final turn.

“Oh my gosh, Gracie, he’s hurt you!”

“I’ll live.”

“You are pale as a sheet. We need to get medical attention.”

“Don’t call an ambulance—that would be over the top. It’s really not that bad,” Gracie said, pushing up her sleeve and looking. The skin wasn’t broken—thank goodness for the padding of her jacket—but it certainly hurt like crazy.

“Let’s at least inquire about a doctor.” Pen placed a hand at her good elbow and steered her toward the only place they knew nearby, Morrell’s hotel.

The desk clerk at the Alpen Haus seemed relieved to learn the accident had not happened on hotel property and was happy to recommend a doctor only one block over.

The two women walked the short distance to a single-doctor office, small and immaculate, with comfortable leather chairs and carved end tables. The magazines were all in German but the receptionist spoke perfect English. After a short wait, the kindly white-haired man was ready to see them. He examined Gracie’s arm with the tenderness and care his sixty-some years had taught him.

“Ve shall want an x-ray, ja?” He summoned a nurse and they quickly had the machine ready.

Fifteen minutes later he placed the films on a viewer on the wall and announced, “Is good news. No breaks. Zis soft tissue is very, very bruised but it will heal.”

He prescribed ice packs, a sling and pain medication, plus an herbal remedy he said to apply at night on a compress. “Keep ze arm elevated whenever you can. It will help.”

Pen thought of everything they’d been through in the past few days. She must insist Gracie stay in the room and rest while she dealt with Frank Morrell. The first thing she would do after getting her friend settled would be a visit to the police.

Although it wasn’t a long walk back to their hotel, Pen insisted on calling a taxi. Her friend looked a bit peaked around the edges.

“I feel so badly about this,” she said to Gracie on the way to the hotel. “If he had been armed, he could have killed you.”

Gracie brushed it off. “It wouldn’t have come to that. I should have realized. He was cornered in an alley and grabbed the first thing he could find. But I agree—I got lucky. In the future I’ll think twice.”

Once in their room, Pen saw to it that Gracie took her pain meds and helped her to slip off her shoes and settle against the pillows on her bed. She phoned Amber, calculating belatedly it was rather early in Arizona and they’d already kept their young computer guru up late into the night.

Amber seemed less than pleased when she picked up. “Did you check your messages?” she asked. “I texted you before I went to bed. That gem cutter is coming in tomorrow morning—or is it this morning? I’m totally confused right now. Anyway, that Anton guy is on his way from Amsterdam to Zurich sometime soon. I sent you the flight number and time.”

“Thanks, hon. I appreciate all your work. Go back to sleep now.” Pen clicked off the call and stared at the screen on her phone. “I really must become more attuned to these things. I heard a little chime earlier and paid no attention.”

Gracie gave a woozy smile from her nest of pillows.

“Oh, here it is,” Pen said. She read the message, pleased to see the KLM flight would not arrive until tomorrow morning. She already had her hands full today.

“We need to report what we know about Morrell to the local police,” she said, more to herself than to Gracie, whose eyes were closed even though she nodded when Pen spoke.

Pen paced the room. They really should go to a police station, she supposed. The authorities would want a statement from Gracie. The attack was one issue, while the stolen necklace was another. She thought of the detective back in Arizona and how he’d eventually become dismissive of her claim. Would she run into the same attitude here?