Page 61 of Going Once

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen you around here, Tate. Good to see you again.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“Follow me,” Tuttle said. “I’ve got everything set up in the back examining room. Let’s get you checked out.”

They followed him into the room, and then Tate leaned against the door as Nola climbed up on the exam table.

“Let’s see what we have here,” Doc said as he began removing the bandages. “Who stitched this up, by the way?”

“Dad,” Tate said. “It happened the night the hospital lost power. We had to make a quick decision. He got the short straw.”

“Not bad,” Doc said, eyeing the stitches, then began cleaning up the wound.

Nola winced as he wiped across the stitches, but it was nothing to the pain she’d felt when it had happened.

“Any infection?” Tate asked.

“Doesn’t appear to be. It’s healing up pretty well, considering. Was it deep?”

“There was one bleeder, up toward the shoulder,” Tate said.

Doc nodded, and then began putting on the new bandages.

“Are you on pain meds and antibiotics?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have enough?”

“Two weeks’ worth,” she said.

“That should suffice, however, I’d like to see you back here in a week, just to be sure.”

“I like to be back here in a week, too,” she said.

Doc Tuttle looked up. “What’s that mean?”

Tate sighed. “The serial killer we’re hunting has targeted Nola.”

Doc’s eyebrows arched. “Seriously? Why?”

Nola sighed. “Because I watched him kill Whit and Candy Lewis, and Candy’s mom. I can’t identify him, but he knows he has a witness.”

“But if you can’t identify him, then why does he care?”

“Ask Tate. He’s the wizard of crazy people,” she muttered.

“It’s a long story,” Tate said.

Doc shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Nola.”

“So am I.”

Doc finished the bandages and then helped her down.

“I’ll say a prayer for you, honey.”

Nola’s eyes blurred with quick tears.

---