JAMIE ISN’T EVEN sure she should call the girl, but Mike had been so insistent over it, had been so irritated over the lack of his cell when he had finally stopped his jingle belling and came back to sanity. Jamie dials the number and waits, breathing a sigh of relief when the girl doesn’t answer, a cheery voice mail coming on that sounds nothing like the bitch from earlier. She hangs up.
Less than a minute later, the cell rings, “Deanna” showing up on the screen.
Jamie fights the urge to do a Hail Mary. “Hello?”
“You called?”
“We just got back from the hospital. Do you want to talk to Mike?”
“Yes.”
She crosses to him, shaking his shoulder gently, watching his eyes and speaking as soon as they open. “Mike. It’s Deanna. Did you want to talk to her?”
He blinks, his eyes looking around, then finding hers, and she waits for him to come to, starts to repeat the question but he nods. Pushes himself to a more upright position and holds out his hand.
“Hey.”
Jamie can’t understand the response, but can hear the snap-fire volley of words through the earpiece. “I don’t know who he is.” Jamie watches closely, her mind trying to put the pieces together but coming up short. “He didn’t mention anything about that…” His eyes close and she steps forward, thinking he is asleep, reaching for the phone, but is surprised when his voice comes, shaky in its message. “I told him who you are. Where you are. You need to get out of there. Now. He’s got to be on his way, but he doesn’t know.” His eyes open and he glances over, his eyes opening a bit as if surprised to see her there. He covers the mouthpiece. “Can you give me a minute?”
Jamie can feel the set of her jaw and knows how it must look. Like she is stubborn. She tries to relax it, attempts a gracious smile, and nods, backing up and reaching for the knob, stepping into the hall and shutting the door. Then she leans forward, presses her ear against the wood, but can’t hear anything.