Page 66 of Deathmarch
The slow smile that conquered his face affected her breathing that had been less than steady already. Not fair to have Harper Finnegan smile at her like that when she wasn’t at full strength. She closed her eyes. So there. She might be down, but she wasn’t entire defenseless.
“I know that car barely touched me,” she said when she regained her equilibrium a few seconds later and opened her eyes again. “But I feel like I’ve been run over by a steamroller. Everything aches.”
“The acetaminophen they gave you should kick in soon.”
She smiled her sweetest smile. “I bet you have stronger drugs at the station in evidence.”
“What’s stashed in evidence, stays in evidence.”
“Remind me again what the advantages of having a detective for a friend are?”
“Superior mind, superior strength, incorruptible morals…”
“All right. Calm down. If your ego gets any bigger, the hospital is going to charge me for a second room.” She shook her head. The bed spun with her. She groaned. “I can’t believe I’ve been hit twice in the same week. Saved by my buffalo coat both times.”
Harper raised an eyebrow. “My plow never touched you. You fainted.”
“You knocked me down.”
“You must mean my manly charm. It can be a lot to take.”
“Yeah, that’s what it was.” She struggled with a grin. “You’re a menace on the roads with that plow,” she told him. But she appreciated the lightness his joking had brought to the room. Maybe the pillswerekicking in, because she was beginning to feel better.
The nurse, who’d introduced herself as Alejandra earlier, bustled in with a brace and a wheelchair. Harper moved away so the petite forty-something woman would have enough room to fasten the brace on Allie’s foot. Then Alejandra helped her stand, helped her walk her first few steps, and find her balance.
“How does that feel?”
“Doesn’t hurt too bad.”
“That’s the spirit, honey. But just because you can walk, it doesn’t mean business as usual. Keep the weight off that ankle as much as you can.” She turned to Harper. “You can take this wheelchair to your car. But if you could return it to the lobby once you’re done, we’d appreciate it.”
“Will do.” Harper took charge of the conveyance with the same confidence he used to tackle all tasks. “Allie?”
She eased herself into the chair. By the time she thanked the nurse and tucked her feet onto the footrest, Harper was disengaging the brake.
“Ready? How do you feel?”
“Like a high school marching band is having band practice in my brain. Try to drive carefully.”
He did, but her brain rattled anyway. The best she could do was not moan out loud. She was still wearing Annie Oakley’s outfit and didn’t want to bring shame to the uniform. She bit her lip and toughed out the pain.
She felt a little better in the pickup—Harper had lifted her in—but by the time they reached Finnegan’s, her head was pounding again. It didn’t help matters that as Harper got out, his mother came running.
“You didn’t return my texts. Shannon had to call me to tell me what happened.”
“Allie has a concussion. I’ll be keeping an eye on her.” Harper opened the door on Allie’s side. Smiled at her. “Hold on for a sec.”
He walked to the door that Allie figured led to the staircase that would take them up to his apartment above the bar and unlocked it while Rose Finnegan watched Allie through narrowed eyes. Her lips moved but didn’t quite part, as if she was struggling to hold something back.
She failed.
She shook her head, and said in a low tone her son wouldn’t hear, “Three days back in town, and you’re moving in with him? I have to give it to you, you sure work fast, Allie Bianchi.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Dave Grambus is waiting for you. I put him in the interview room, like you said,” Robin told Harper as he walked into the station Friday morning after a sleepless night.
“Anything else that needs my attention right now? Hey, nice earrings.”
