Page 113 of Canyon of Deceit
How would Alina feel about Jurg when she learned the truth?
SIXTY-SEVEN
Thirteen minutes after contacting the man for help, a call came in on Jurg’s phone. With shaking fingers, I answered.
“I’m using the back steps to the fourth floor. I’ll knock three times. Is he alive?”
“Yes. Barely—”
The call ended, and I leveled my gaze to Alina. “Please hold this towel in place with the palm of your hand while I unlock the door.”
Silently she moved beside me and did as I instructed. “Thank you, sweet girl. You are an angel.”
I made it to the door just as the knocks alerted me. My nerves hovered in panic mode, and I questioned my sanity in opening the door.
“Yes, who is there?” I said.
“A doctor looking for a friend in need.”
I opened the door, and a man in his mid- to late thirties, wearing jeans, an Astros hat pulled over his eyes, and an Astros T-shirt pushed past me. He carried a backpack slung over his shoulder as though he’d checked into the hotel.
I gestured to where Jurg lay on the floor. Alina slid to her uncle’s head and kept her vigil. Should I pull her away from all the bloodand gore? Hadn’t the child seen enough? She certainly had more grit than her father.
The doctor, at least I hope he’d taken the oath, knelt and opened his backpack. He lifted out a hard-cased kit about twenty-four by eighteen inches and a depth of about eight inches. With a deftness that I’d never witnessed by a paramedic, he squirted sanitizer on his hands, slipped on surgical gloves, checked vitals that displayed on a screen, and inserted an IV.
“Hold this up.” He adjusted my arm height. “This will also put him to sleep. Alina, I need clean towels.” He grabbed a chair from the desk and adjusted the IV.
Where had he learned her name? She disappeared to do his bidding.
“What is your name?” I said.
“It’s better you don’t know. I am a doctor and that’s the important issue.”
Alina brought a stack from our bathroom, then another from Jurg’s—all sizes. The doctor picked through his case and laid instruments, bandages, gauze, and medicines on one of the towels in an orderly manner.
Watching him clean the wound amid blood once more convinced me I’d never work in the medical field. Alina observed with interest. She kept her distance from the doctor’s work and wrapped her hand around Jurg’s. The doctor inserted what looked like elongated tweezers into the wound. Jurg neither moved nor uttered a cry, which confirmed the anesthesia in his IV.
“Found it.” He pulled out a bloody bullet and held it up to the light. “He will want this.” He studied Alina. “Who shot your uncle?”
She shook her head. “We heard two men arguing. One left, then my uncle knocked on our room door for help.”
“Good. Thanks.”
“Do you make house calls on a regular basis?” I said.
“Whoever needs me and can pay the bill.”
Alina and I watched him disinfect and stitch the wound. Normally I’d cringe, but I didn’t want a child to outdo me. Strange thoughtsdarted in and out of a person in times of crisis. Why hadn’t I found the courage to yank Alina out of there and leave the no-named doctor to Jurg?
When Jurg’s life was no longer in danger, I’d get Alina to safety.
Such a rational decision... I wanted Jurg to live when he planned to kill me.
The doctor tore off his bloody gloves and again checked Jurg’s vitals. He tugged his phone from his jeans pocket and pressed in a number. “I need a cleanup.” He gave the hotel name, address, and room number. “Yes, I’m here for a while. Trying to stabilize him.” He paused, his eyes on the screen with the vitals. “At least through tomorrow.”
The doctor returned his phone and eyed Alina and me. “Both of you gather up any clean towels, clean clothes, and move into the bathroom. Take a shower and put your bloody clothes in a heap outside the door. I’ll dispose of them. Wash the blood out of your hair and under your fingernails. Run the shower until there is no trace of blood. Do not open the door until I give permission.”
“How long will the cleanup team take?” I said.
