Chapter Three

Maggie unpacked the groceries from her car and checked her email, letting Kris rest. A noise alerted her and she went to check on him. He was moaning and thrashing in his sleep. She checked his temperature, worried to find it had spiked. She chewed a nail and contemplated what to do. She still didn't know if he was a good guy or bad, but she trusted her instincts. She couldn't call 911…a gunshot had to be reported and he'd been adamant about not going to the hospital. There was only one thing left to do.

Picking up her cell, she dialed her college roommate Amelia. Ame was a physician and through their friendship, had become COBRA's unofficial doctor. Maggie was pushing to make it official. She glanced at her watch and winced at the time. Amelia picked up on the second ring sounding alert.

"What's up Mags?"

"How can you sound chipper at this hour?"

"I'm just about to head home. I had an emergency call tonight."

"I hate to ask this because I know you need to rest, but, do you mind stopping by here on your way home?"

"Are you hurt? Sick? What's broken? Where does it hurt?"

Maggie knew better than to trigger Amelia's protective streak. She was a born worrier. "I'm fine," she quickly inserted before Amelia threatened to dispatch a lifeline helicopter. "It's a friend."

There was a pause. "I know all of your friends. Who is it?"

"A new one," she hedged.

"Hum. Is this friend of the male persuasion?"

"Yes, and I'll tell you all about it when you get here. And Amelia? Bring your big bag of supplies and keep it on the down low." Big bag was code for gunshot or worse.

"Now I'm intrigued." A car door slammed and then a motor revved to life. "I'm on my way."

"Thank you."

"That's what best friends are for."

#

"You have no idea when or how he was shot?" Amelia was stitching the bullet wound in the front, the back having already been sutured. She'd administered a shot of both antibiotic and a mild knock-out drug to Kris so she could probe the wound.

"None," Maggie confirmed, watching as his chest rose and fell. "No major damage?"

"As best as I can tell without an x-ray," Amelia concurred. "No fragments in the wound so that's good." Amelia had irrigated the wound with a saline solution to remove any stray debris and to aid in the healing process. Then she stitched the holes and covered them with a sterile pad taped into place. "Some muscle and tissue damage, but it'll heal. The bullet didn't break any bones. Infection had just started to set in but you caught it in time. He needs to stick to an antibiotic regime and he needs to keep the arm as immobilized as possible for the next few days. Ice will help." Amelia checked the wrap she had secured around his torso. "His ribs are badly bruised and could be cracked, but they aren't broken and I don't hear any hindrance in his breathing, so no punctured lung. His head wound is a worry. I've given him the first dose of antibiotics but you'll need to wake him and make sure he takes these pills every four hours. Check for confusion or slurring. If anything seems wrong, don't hesitate to call me, day or night." She handed Maggie a bottle and then peeled off her latex gloves. "He should rest comfortably for a few hours before you need to wake him." She stood to stretch her back.

"Thank you so much for coming. Again, no word of this."

Amelia mimicked zipping her lips. "But that doesn't let you off the hook, sister. I want the whole story, the pertinent facts and a glass of wine, not necessarily in that order." She snapped her bag closed and headed for the kitchen, just assuming Maggie would follow.

Maggie sighed and padded out of the room, giving Kris one last look. She should've known there'd be no putting off her friend. Amelia could be a pit bull. So far, she'd avoided telling the entire story, like she knew virtually nothing about the guy, including his name. So she filled her in on every detail.

"So he stuck a gun in your back and kidnapped you?"

"Pretty much," Maggie said, sipping a tangy merlot. They'd kicked off their shoes and settled on the sofa, the only lights coming from the Christmas tree and the gas fireplace where flames danced merrily, adding a warm glow to the room. Maggie had strung real pine boughs on the mantle, and that, along with the tree, gave the room the smell of Christmas. They'd sat and talked like this so many times over the years, it felt comfortable.

"Mags, this isn't like you." Amelia lifted her glass and studied Maggie as she sipped. "You don't even know his name."

She sighed. How did she explain the feeling deep in her gut? She trusted him. True, she knew practically nothing about him, but that didn't change the way she felt.

Amelia placed a hand on her arm. "I know you're a kick-ass warrior now," she said with a smile. "But I worry about you. You have a gentle, trusting heart."

"My heart's not involved." Lie. Her heart had been smack-dab in the middle of this from the beginning. She didn't know why that fickle organ had attached itself to Kris, but it had and there was no looking back. "I'm just helping him out. I have a gut feeling, that's all."

"And your gut is usually right. But Mags, the guy's sporting a bullet wound. You don't get those from an upstanding job like selling stocks and bonds."

"You might if you lose someone's fortune," Maggie joked. "And COBRA agents are upstanding and they get shot," she argued. "But I know what you are saying and I appreciate it. Believe me, my eyes are wide open."