Page 144 of College Town

Slowly, the waiting room fills up. There’s two local cops in blue uniforms, and Noah, on his phone, and several shifty-faced guys in suits who aren’t mob security at all, but other undercover cops.

Phones trill, and are answered, and spoken into softly. Noah ends one call and begins another, pacing the width of the room, expression grave. Men come to the door and lean in to whisper messages, then retreat.

Lawson needs to call his mother. Dana. He probably ought to leave…

But he sits, and sits, and sits.

At one point, Noah pauses in his pacing, and his tone is gentle when he turns to Lawson and says, “I spoke with Dana. She said she and her boyfriend were headed to your parents’ place and they’d let them know you’re here.”

Noah spoke toDana? How didthatconversation go?

Lawson nods.

He has another Coke. The caffeine works its way through him, and then out. He ambles down the hall to pee, and when he comes back, there’s twice as many people in the room, all of them talking in low, hushed voices.

A hatchet-faced man in a yellow striped tie steps up to Lawson and thrusts out a hand, his eyes hard and his jaw set. “Lawson Granger?”

“Yeah.”

“Superintendent Michael Thurston,” he introduces, and shoves his hand a little closer until Lawson grips it. “You did good this afternoon. I wanted to assure you that no charges will be pressed against you for the shooting.”

The shooting. When he shot Ray. When he blew his fucking brains out.

“Your life was clearly in danger, as was that of a New York police officer. You’ll have to answer some formal questions eventually, but you have nothing to worry about.”

“Cool.” He returns to his chair, and Natalia rubs at his back.

Finally, a scrub-clad doctor emerges from the double doors markedStaff Only. A surgical mask dangles around her neck, and a cap covers her hair, and there’s blood drying on her pants and non-slip shoes.

Lawson doesn’t realize he’s stood until Natalia loops her arm through his and steadies him.

The doctor surveys their anxious faces, and smiles, though tiredly. “The surgery was a success.”

“Thank Christ,” Superintendent Thurston says, gustily.

The doctor continues: “The gun appears to have been a small caliber–”

“Twenty-two,” someone confirms.

“–and both shots were clean through-and-throughs that didn’t hit bone. Detective Katz suffered damage to his large intestine, his gallbladder, and liver.” Here she frowns. “We had to resection a two-inch section of colon, and we’ll need to monitor that closely while he heals with the aid of a colostomy bag. We had to remove his gallbladder, but were able to save the liver. It should heal with time and rest. He’s lost quite a lot of blood. He’s undergone an infusion already, and might still need another one. Given the location of one of the exit wounds, we’re not yet certain if there’s any nerve damage that might limit lower body mobility, but the spine and spinal cord are still intact. The primary objective with this surgery was to stop the bleeding, which we have done. Dr. Patel will reevaluate in a few weeks’ time to determine whether or not additional surgery will be necessary.”

That was a lot of words.

Tommy’s stuck onDetective Katz. His head isthrobbing.

“He’s gonna make it, though?” Noah asks.

The doctor smiles again. “We believe so, yes. He’s in recovery, and then he’ll be moved into ICU.”

“Jesus,” someone says.

“Thank God,” says another.

Someone claps.

He’s alive. He’salive, he’s going to make it, he’s going into recovery.

Lawson breathes, and breathes, and breathes. Natalia rubs firm circles into his back.

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