Page 30 of The Fixer and the Fugitive

“He’s harmless, I promise,” Celeste said. “But he is wounded. Would you mind taking a look?”

With a nod, Elliot followed her inside.

Chapter 17

“Iam not harmless,” Sam said, eyes closed as he rested his head on the table and tried not to pass out. “I am dangerous and terrifying.”

“Of course you are. Now open your eyes and say hello to the nice man,” Celeste commanded.

He opened his eyes, which widened immediately. “Am I hallucinating or are you huge?”

“Maybe both,” Elliot suggested. “What have we got here?” He took off his hat and began rolling up his sleeves.

“Are you a doctor?” Sam asked hopefully.

“No, I’m apizzaiolo,” Elliot replied.

Sam’s panicked gaze darted to Celeste in question but she shrugged. “Maybe it’s a Paradise thing.”

“It’s not a Paradise thing. It’s an Italian thing. I make pizza.”

“That cute little pizza place at the edge of town is yours?” Celeste said, face lighting.

Elliot winced. “Please don’t call it cute. I was going for rustic, hoping for no ambiance entirely to keep it hidden.”

“You thought opening a charming outdoor pizza oven in the idyllic setting of Paradise, Montana would lack ambiance?” Celeste said.

His good eye narrowed on her again. “Have you been talking to my wife? Because that’s almost verbatim what she said.”

“Excuse me, and not to interrupt this episode ofDiner’s, Drive-in’s, and Dives,but is the man who is about to perform medicine on me not only a cook but also only in possession of one eye?” Sam asked.

“That about sums it up,” Elliot said, using one of his massive paws to tug at Sam’s shirt.

“It’s either him or me, and if you’ve ever seen the pillow I tried to make in seventh grade, you’d want it to be him,” Celeste said.

“This keeps getting better and better,” Sam said, squeezing his eyes tightly closed as Elliot bent closer to take a look. He made his inspection in silence for a while before standing upright and rolling his sleeves back down.

“Well?” Sam asked when he couldn’t take the silence any longer.

“I’m going to give it to you straight,” Elliot began in a somber tone. “You’ve been shot.”

Celeste laughed loudly and clapped a hand over her mouth.

“You two should take this routine on the road,” Sam said, biting his lip against a groan of pain. Celeste, chastised, retrieved pain reliever and a glass of water for him, which he accepted and downed with a slight nod of thanks.

“I could stitch up the skin,” Elliot continued. “I was a medic in the army and stitches aren’t outside my realm. But I don’t have my supplies, and I’m a bit worried about some of that tissue. The stitches might need to go a few layers deeper than I feel comfortable with.”

“I think it goes without saying that I can’t take him to a hospital because…reasons,” Celeste said.

“Smooth,” Sam inserted, wincing when she poked him in his good shoulder.

“It’s amazing how many ‘reasons’ mysteriously arise in Paradise,” Elliot said. “It so happens I know somebody who is good with sutures and trustworthy enough to take a look.”

“The haberdasher?” Sam guessed. “A luthier?”

“You know a lot of words,” Celeste accused before facing Elliot. “Who do you recommend? We’ll see whoever, and of course I’m willing to pay cash.”

Elliot gave a nod. “I’ll help you get him to your car, then you can follow me.”

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