Page 80 of Caper Crush
The pain is piercing. I grit my teeth to get a grip. “I need a moment,” I bite out.
He rubs my back.
“At least it’s not my hands.” I show them. “Shit, I did.” They’re all scraped up from the rusty ladder.
“Have you had a tetanus shot?”
“I think?” I untie my sneaker to look at my foot. It’s swelling.
“C’mon, I’m going to pick you up.”
“You can’t carry me.”
William snorts. “I can carry you.” He picks me up so gently. “We need to get your foot looked at.”
I rest my head against his very solid shoulder. The throbbing is subsiding.
“Your face is still all white.” He tightens his grip.
“I need to go in network,” I say. “I can’t afford some out-of-network bill.”
“I’ll call my college roommate. He’s a pediatrician.”
“At least he’s not a vet.”
William laughs. “The pain must be better. You’re getting some color back in your cheeks.”
That might be because William is holding me so tightly.And I can’t believe that he can actually lift me. He carries me down the block. Uncle Tony and Takashi appear. I tell them what happened.
Uncle Tony fusses over me. “Do you think you broke it?”
“I hope not,” I say. “The pain is lessening. It feels more like a twist than a break. You guys did a great job.”
Takashi shakes his head. “That was excruciating. I’ve never had to think of so many emotions conveyed by orange and white.”
“I really want a Creamsicle pop. And I haven’t had one in years,” Uncle Tony says. “No paintings?”
Both William and I shake our head.
William’s car is another block away. William carries me quickly there and puts me down to retrieve his key. I rest my weight against the car, off my foot.
Takashi unlocks the car, and William carefully places me in the front seat. My foot hits the floor slightly. Another bolt of pain shoots up. I wince.
William glances at me. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” I say.
He calls his friend and arranges for us to go see him. Uncle Tony and Takashi pile into the back of the car. William pulls out of the parking spot.
“It’s still good that we confirmed that the paintings are not there,” Takashi says.
“They could be at his apartment,” Uncle Tony says.
“We did get one clue,” William says. “On that Friday, you called Vinnie at the gallery and told him the paintings were wrapped up and stored in the closet for the party. If Edmund was there at that time, Edmund could have overheard that conversation. Just like we did today when the gallery assistant repeated where the paintings were ready for pickup as she wrote it down. Edmund could have known on Friday that your painting was in the back room.”
“That’s true,” Takashi says.
William drives uptown. He turns left to drive down Eighteenth Street to Irving Plaza where his friend lives. We search for parking.
