Adam waited in silence with Iris and Grant on uncomfortable chairs. Eventually, the Sheriff excused himself for a phone call. He hadn’t been gone more than five minutes when a man in scrubs arrived to let Iris know Harlan was out of surgery. Dark-skinned and dark-haired, not much taller than Iris, the doctor had an earnest but no-nonsense way of speaking to her. Adam hovered at her elbow, but kept missing words. More likely, he was simply incapable of taking them in.
The doctor explained that the skull wasn’t solid, but rather was made up of many fused bones. “Mr. Miller had a depressed fracture of one of the parietal bones—”
Adam’s hands started to shake as the doctor pointed to that portion of his own skull, toward the back on one side.
“—meaning pieces of bone were pushed in.” The doctor began demonstrating with his hands again. “We had to elevate the area.”
“How do you do that?” Iris asked.
Adam couldn’t listen, turning away as the man described drilling into Harlan’s skull. He walked to the far end of the waiting room, rested his forehead against the wall, and closed his eyes. His skin crawled with sensation, and he hugged his arms to keep them from shaking as badly as his hands.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing that way when something brushed his arm. Adam swung around defensively.
“Easy,” Grant said, stepping back and raising his hands in conciliation. “It’s just me.”
Adam felt like he’d forgotten to breathe for a very long time, that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever breathed. He desperately sucked in air, again and again. He leaned forward, resting his tingling hands on his thighs…
“Hey,” Grant said, taking his wrist firmly. “Slow down, and breathe through your nose.”
His voice was reassuring (how is he always so calm?) and Adam did his best to comply.
“Good,” Grant said. “I know this is a hospital, but let’s try not to pass out. They tend to take it the wrong way.”
Adam was still a little lightheaded, and his chest felt like interlocked fingers making a fist. No wonder, with everything he’d put it through today—jumping off a mountain, drowning in a freezing river, hyperventilating. At least he’d skipped the CPR this time. He thought of JJ and almost smiled. “I’m okay now,” he said. “Thanks.”
Grant nodded. “Your grandmother wants to talk to you. She went to find some coffee.”
Adam followed Grant to the fourth floor, where they found Iris at the vending machines, sipping something that made her wince.
“Cafeteria opens again in a couple of hours,” Grant said.
Iris raised an eyebrow. “Something to look forward to. Did you tell him?”
Grant shook his head.
“The Sheriff has to get back to Beecham County tonight,” Iris said. It occurred to Adam that she was the only person he didn’t have to strain to hear. “I think you should go with him.”
“Iris, if this is about what happened in there—” Adam gestured vaguely, not entirely sure where the waiting room had been.
“Sweetie,” Iris said, looking in vain for somewhere to set her coffee as she stepped toward him. Finally, she gave up and threw the nearly full cup in the trash.
“Lousy excuse for coffee,” she said, then grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “Steelers, huh? You have a change of clothes?”
“No,” Adam admitted. He didn’t have anything except his damp wallet, and he was afraid to ask Grant about Teddy and the truck and the duffel bag that contained most of his earthly possessions, lest he get his great uncle into more trouble.
“Toothbrush? Comb? Razor?” she asked, patting his bearded cheek.
“No, none of that.”
“Me either, though I could skip the razor.” She took Adam by the arm and led the men toward the elevator.
“What did the doctor say, back there? When can we see Harlan?” Adam asked. He swallowed hard to force out the next question. “Will he make it?”
Iris’s voice was cautious, stripped of other emotions, but her pressure on Adam’s arm increased. “We can’t see him yet. And he could go either way.”
The doors opened, and the three of them stepped into an empty car. Adam avoided looking at their reflections on the shiny surface while Iris pushed the button for the lobby. Then she linked her fingers in his. “I intend to stay here until the end, whatever that may be. I’d appreciate it if you could pick up some things for me. JJ can help you pack.”
Movement behind him—some reaction from Grant at the mention of JJ—distracted Adam. He turned his attention back to Iris. “I need to see Harlan, too.”
“I know,” she said, squeezing his hand. The doors opened, and she led him to the lobby. “But tonight, keep Grant awake while he’s driving and spend the night in a decent bed at home. I’ll call if there’s any change.”
Adam reached automatically for his cell phone, then shuddered at the memory of throwing it when he couldn’t save Harlan. “I lost my phone.”
“I’ll call the house and leave a message,” she said, and rubbed his hand between hers. “How did your hands get so cold?”
Adam treated the question as though it were rhetorical. “I don’t have my car keys, either.”
Iris set her purse down at a seating area near the entrance and pulled out an overstuffed key ring. “Good thing you gave me the spare,” she said, unthreading a key with yellow tape from the rest of the ring.
Adam sighed. “Okay,” he said, “but I’ll be back here first thing tomorrow.”
“Don’t you dare leave Cold Springs before noon. Sheriff Mason, why don’t you warm up the car while we say our goodbyes.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, placed his hat carefully on his head, then took her free hand in both of his. “Take care of yourself.”
There was a burst of cold air as Grant passed through the wide front doors. Adam shivered. Iris reached up and, instead of putting his hood up as he’d expected, gently touched Adam’s bruised cheek. “Did he do that?”
It was the first time she’d referred to Danny, or even indirectly to what had happened to Harlan.
“Yes,” Adam said, swamped by a sudden, angry guilt because Harlan lay on the verge of death while he had a lousy shiner.
“The doctor told me with that degree of head trauma, it was a miracle Harlan was still alive. I said it was because the man’s so stubborn, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? You did something to help him.”
Adam turned away, but Iris took his chin in her hand and made him meet her intense, gray eyes. “Didn’t you?”
“I didn’t do enough.”
She shook her head, then smiled, and he couldn’t resist smiling back at her plumped cheeks. “You know that’s your mother, right? She was the healer. And so long as you’ve got her in you, you’ll be able to control the rest. I promise.”
“How long’s it take to get to Cold Springs from here?” Adam asked.
“Couple of hours.”
Adam massaged his head with his hand, only to find a sore spot, likely courtesy of the river rapids. “So what’s going on with JJ?”
“You noticed that, huh?” Grant acknowledged. “She’s been having a little trouble lately.”
“With Marcus?”
Light from the instrument panel flashed off Grant’s pale face as he turned to Adam in the dark. “Why am I the last one to know about this shit?”
So much for always being calm. “Is she okay?”
“She is.” Grant let out a heavy breath, more like a fighter before a bout than a sigh, but had recovered his composure when he continued. “A couple of loaner deputies thought Virgil might’ve gone to JJ’s, they showed up unannounced, and she shot one of them. He’ll be okay. The other one took her into custody.”
“Wait—she shot someone, and she’s in jail? Your jail?”
“Not exactly,” Grant said. “Luther punched the deputy and took her home. So I figured we’d kill two birds with one stone—see how she’s doing and get you your car.”
“Have you talked to her? Or Luther?”
“No. Both seemed like in-person conversations. Plus the Kirby County Sheriff was already breathing down my neck with the shooting. Now he’ll want Luther’s head, too. I’d like to have an hour or two of sleep before splitting that particular baby.”
A pickup fell in behind them. Grant squinted and adjusted his rearview mirror, muttering, “Really? You want to ride up a Sheriff’s ass?”
Adam struggled to process all the pieces he’d just gotten from Grant. “Evie and Rachel weren’t around, were they? During the shooting?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Are you gonna prosecute JJ?”
“I don’t make those decisions. I just investigate. The District Attorney’s office makes that call,” Grant said. It sounded practiced, like a sound bite he’d used before.
“So, you and JJ… will this make things weird for you?” Adam asked.
“It sure as hell won’t make things simpler,” Grant burst out, then turned to give Adam what he felt certain was a dirty look, even in the dark.
“You like how I did that? With the assumption of a relationship in the question?”
“Any assumption of a relationship would be wishful thinking on my part,” Grant said.
“Maybe,” Adam replied, unconvinced. “Either way, you have to admit that was classic interrogation technique. Maybe I could be a deputy, too.”
Grant laughed. “Yeah, right. Between you and Luther, we’d be up to our eyeballs in lawsuits.”
The idea tickled him so much, Grant laughed again. His laugh—not particularly loud or boisterous, but enriching—reminded Adam of Iris’s smile. He suspected Grant didn’t laugh enough, either. As its echo faded from the car, Adam imagined the sound filling the Tulley house, where he and JJ and Danny had laughed so much themselves.
“JJ and I are just getting reacquainted after twenty years,” Adam said, “so I can’t pretend to be an expert on the woman. And I imagine dealing with her ex-husband has done a number on her. But there is one thing I know that’s fundamental to who she is. JJ is independent, but even more important to her is that she doesn’t become dependent, if that makes sense.”
“Okay,” Grant mulled. “I think I see the distinction.”
“It makes it hard for her to admit when she needs help, and it makes it hard for her to let people in. If you push before she’s ready, she’ll dig in and push back. But when she is ready, you gotta jump on it fast because if you don’t she’ll doubt herself and pull back, start putting up walls.”
When Grant didn’t respond, Adam wondered if he’d crossed a line. After all, the Sheriff hadn’t asked for relationship advice. “Just my intuition, for what it’s worth.”
Finally, he heard the man sigh. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Man in my position, I figure it can’t hurt to curry favor with law enforcement,” Adam said, grinning as he pulled his hood up against the chill.