Читать книгу Death of a Wicked Witch - Lee Hollis - Страница 14

Chapter 8

By the time Conner had rolled off the hood of Bruce’s car and landed facedown on the ground, moaning, Bruce had already jumped out of the driver’s seat, and was kneeling at his side as Hayley and Gemma came flying out the back door to see if Conner was all right.

Bruce gently touched his back. “You okay there, buddy?”

Conner didn’t answer at first because the wind had been knocked out of him, but soon he managed to nod his head a bit, and then gasp, “Yes, but could you help me stand up, please?”

“No!” Gemma cried. “He may have broken a bone or something and moving him could make it worse!”

Conner pressed the palms of his hands on the ground and rolled over on his back so he was facing up and smiled at Gemma. “It’s okay, Gemma. I’m fine.” He then held out his hand, which Bruce grasped, and slowly, Bruce carefully helped to lift him up onto his feet. Conner slowly dusted himself off. “Seriously, I don’t think anything’s broken.”

He took a step and winced in pain.

“I think we should take you to a doctor and get you checked out,” Hayley urged.

Conner shook his head. “No, please. It was just a shock falling like that. I only have a few scrapes and bruises. Seriously, if I honestly felt there was something wrong, I’d go straight to the hospital.”

They all stared at him skeptically, but Conner was insistent. He did agree to postpone finishing the rooftop decorations until a later time, and also promised not to proceed without Bruce present to keep watch and catch him if he happened to fall again. He wanted to forget this whole clumsy accident happened and just go to dinner as planned. He limped inside the house to change his shirt, again dismissing a slightly sprained ankle and begging them all to relax.

When he reemerged, his foot appeared to already be better. They piled into Bruce’s car, no one wanting to bring up the now heavily dented front hood, a result of Conner’s fall. They drove to McKay’s on Main Street, which was one of the few restaurants in town still open after the tourist season had died down after Labor Day. They were sipping on cocktails and wine and munching on pretzels and beer cheese, perusing the menu, deciding on their entrees, when Hayley noticed Conner wincing again.

“Conner, what is it?” Hayley asked.

“Nothing, I’m good,” Conner lied, keeping his eyes glued to the menu, not wanting to make an issue out of what was bothering him. “The Tempura Tuna Tacos sound delicious.”

Gemma slapped her menu down on the table. “You’re obviously in pain! What’s wrong?”

Conner sighed. “My shoulder’s a little sore, that’s all.”

They all focused on his left side, where he had landed on the hood of the car. The swelling on his arm and shoulder looked as if it might burst through his shirt, like Bruce Banner when he got angry and transformed into the Incredible Hulk.

“That’s it,” Gemma said as she stood up from the table. “We’re going to the emergency room.”

“Can we just wait and see if the swelling goes down? If it hasn’t by the morning, I’ll go see a doctor,” Conner begged.

Gemma reached over and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. His arm was turning purple. “We’re going right now. Come on!”

Conner knew he was not going to win this one. He shook his head, annoyed and frustrated, and they all stood up to leave as Bruce handed Hayley the key to his car. “You take him. I’ll pay for our drinks and meet you over there.”

Luckily, the hospital was only a few blocks away.

By the time Hayley and Gemma had parked the car and escorted Conner into the ER, his arm had only gotten worse.

Nurse Tilly, a perky RN with a bright demeanor and infectious smile, was manning the reception desk. She took one look at Conner and jumped on the phone to get a doctor on call to get down to exam room three where she told Conner to wait. Gemma never left his side and the two disappeared down the hall led by another nurse. Hayley remained in the ER and was joined by Bruce a few minutes later.

After forty-five minutes had passed, and Hayley and Bruce had gorged on just about every processed snack the vending machine had to offer, Gemma finally emerged from the exam room and crossed over to them.

“He dislocated his shoulder.”

“Oh no!” Hayley cried.

“They fixed it and the doctor says it should heal in about six to eight weeks. He just needs to wear a sling to keep it immobilized so he doesn’t injure it again. It could have been a lot worse.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Hayley said.

“He should be out in a few minutes. Is it too late to go back to the restaurant? I’m starving,” Gemma said.

Bruce checked his watch. “I think we can get in under the wire before the kitchen closes.”

Suddenly, a man burst through the doors into the emergency room yelling, “Please, my wife is very sick! I need help!”

Nurse Tilly quickly grabbed the phone on her desk to call for some assistance.

They all spun around to see Ted Lancaster, sweat running down his cheeks, a panicked look on his face. Trudy was in his arms, her eyes closed, her face a ghostly white.

Hayley was the first to rush over to them. “Ted, what’s happened to her?”

Ted gasped, out of breath. “I don’t know. One minute she was fine, and then the next she had a fever and chills and was vomiting! I rushed her here as fast as I could, but by the time we got here, she was too weak to even walk by herself.”

Two orderlies showed up with a gurney and Ted gently set his wife down on it. They quickly whisked Trudy away, leaving her distraught husband behind.

Hayley had managed to get a look at Trudy as they wheeled her off. She was barely conscious and gasping for air, as if she was having trouble breathing.

Something was seriously wrong with her.