The Target
Page 68
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Dr. Otterly smiled down at Emma. "Now, young lady, I've got a treat for you."
Emma didn't believe that for an instant. She took a step back. He laughed. "No, no, I promise nothing horrible. I just want you to drink some orange juice." He nodded to Miles. In a couple of minutes Miles handed her a half glass of orange juice. "Now, Emma, you need to drink it down."
She clearly didn't want to.
Ramsey said, "How can you make sure that your mama and I take care of ourselves if you're not in top-flight form?"
He saw she wasn't sure what that meant, but it was enough. She drank down the juice. Dr. Otterly patted her head, nodding to Molly.
"Em, will you see me upstairs? I'm a little bit shaky. No, I'm all right, but I've got to say that my arm isn't very happy with me. I'm also kind of worried about Ramsey. Yes, I need to lie down for a little while. Will you come with me?"
After Molly and Emma left the kitchen, Mason Lord said, "Will my daughter be all right?"
"I didn't lie to her, sir. The metal didn't slice that deeply, so I didn't have to repair the muscle. I gave her a tetanus shot and an antibiotic.
"Don't get me wrong. Although Judge Hunt's back wound isn't as severe as I feared it would be, your daughter's wound is bad enough. I'd say they were both very lucky with all the burning car fragments hurtling around."
"And Molly's daughter? What did you give her in that orange juice?"
Dr. Otterly had to think a moment, then nodded. He said, "Oh, you mean your granddaughter. Emma's okay. I slipped a bit of a sedative in the orange juice. She'll start feeling sleepy in just a little while."
He turned back to Ramsey. "Both you and Mrs. Santera need to rest. It's the best thing for both of you. No heroics. As I just said, take the pills. Rest." He eyed Ramsey's back, frowned, and pressed down another strip of tape over the bandage. "There, that should hold it. I hope you've got a good psychologist for the little girl?"
"Yes, we do. We were on our way to see her when all this happened. One other thing, Dr. Otterly. I got a gunshot in my left thigh some two weeks ago. Do you think you could take a look at it?"
"Here I thought that a judge's life was pretty staid. Drop your pants, Judge Hunt, and let me take a look."
When Dr. Otterly was done prodding and probing, he said, "You're just fine. Whatever you did, it worked. The flesh has grown together nicely, not even much of a scar. Have you got full strength back yet in the leg?"
"Not all of it."
"Another week or so and you'll be running again. I wish you luck, Judge Hunt. Call me if there's any sort of problem." He nodded to Mason Lord.
Ramsey thanked him again and held himself still while Miles helped him on with a clean shirt. It didn't hurt.
Thank God Emma had escaped being hurt. Only she hadn't escaped, not really. It was another blow, a really big one.
Ramsey walked slowly with Mason Lord to the living room where Eve was answering questions for the police until they got there. Ramsey was relieved that Mason Lord hadn't put up much of a fight about their coming, had even agreed to speak to them. Not even he could try to kiss them off through his lawyers after a homicide. Neither Ramsey nor Molly had seen the police yet. He wasn't surprised that Molly had gone straight upstairs with Emma to try to keep her from the police. He just wished he could have gone with her, too.
Three plainclothes officers sat on the edges of their chairs, looking uncomfortable, as if they had hemorrhoids, amid the stiff opulence and, naturally, in the company of Mason Lord's gorgeous young wife. All three of them rose when Ramsey and Mason walked into the living room.
Mason introduced himself, nodded coolly to each of the three men, then sat down beside his wife. He looked down at his fingernails and began to swing his leg.
Immediately, one of the men turned to Ramsey. "Judge Hunt? I'm Riley O'Connor. It's a pleasure and an honor to meet you, sir." Detective O'Connor was at least fifteen years older than Ramsey, skinny as a one-sided board, and bald. His dark eyes glittered with intelligence and humor. "We're very pleased that you're all right." The two men shook hands. Detective O'Connor introduced the other two officers, Sergeant Burnside and Detective Martinez.
Mason Lord cleared his throat. "Do you have all the information you need, officers?"
Detective O'Connor arched a very black eyebrow. "No, sir, we've actually just gotten started. We've got a murder on our hands, a particularly violent murder. Mrs. Lord hasn't really had time to tell us much. And you just got here. However, I'd like to speak to Judge Hunt first. Then perhaps you'd be free, sir?"
Emma didn't believe that for an instant. She took a step back. He laughed. "No, no, I promise nothing horrible. I just want you to drink some orange juice." He nodded to Miles. In a couple of minutes Miles handed her a half glass of orange juice. "Now, Emma, you need to drink it down."
She clearly didn't want to.
Ramsey said, "How can you make sure that your mama and I take care of ourselves if you're not in top-flight form?"
He saw she wasn't sure what that meant, but it was enough. She drank down the juice. Dr. Otterly patted her head, nodding to Molly.
"Em, will you see me upstairs? I'm a little bit shaky. No, I'm all right, but I've got to say that my arm isn't very happy with me. I'm also kind of worried about Ramsey. Yes, I need to lie down for a little while. Will you come with me?"
After Molly and Emma left the kitchen, Mason Lord said, "Will my daughter be all right?"
"I didn't lie to her, sir. The metal didn't slice that deeply, so I didn't have to repair the muscle. I gave her a tetanus shot and an antibiotic.
"Don't get me wrong. Although Judge Hunt's back wound isn't as severe as I feared it would be, your daughter's wound is bad enough. I'd say they were both very lucky with all the burning car fragments hurtling around."
"And Molly's daughter? What did you give her in that orange juice?"
Dr. Otterly had to think a moment, then nodded. He said, "Oh, you mean your granddaughter. Emma's okay. I slipped a bit of a sedative in the orange juice. She'll start feeling sleepy in just a little while."
He turned back to Ramsey. "Both you and Mrs. Santera need to rest. It's the best thing for both of you. No heroics. As I just said, take the pills. Rest." He eyed Ramsey's back, frowned, and pressed down another strip of tape over the bandage. "There, that should hold it. I hope you've got a good psychologist for the little girl?"
"Yes, we do. We were on our way to see her when all this happened. One other thing, Dr. Otterly. I got a gunshot in my left thigh some two weeks ago. Do you think you could take a look at it?"
"Here I thought that a judge's life was pretty staid. Drop your pants, Judge Hunt, and let me take a look."
When Dr. Otterly was done prodding and probing, he said, "You're just fine. Whatever you did, it worked. The flesh has grown together nicely, not even much of a scar. Have you got full strength back yet in the leg?"
"Not all of it."
"Another week or so and you'll be running again. I wish you luck, Judge Hunt. Call me if there's any sort of problem." He nodded to Mason Lord.
Ramsey thanked him again and held himself still while Miles helped him on with a clean shirt. It didn't hurt.
Thank God Emma had escaped being hurt. Only she hadn't escaped, not really. It was another blow, a really big one.
Ramsey walked slowly with Mason Lord to the living room where Eve was answering questions for the police until they got there. Ramsey was relieved that Mason Lord hadn't put up much of a fight about their coming, had even agreed to speak to them. Not even he could try to kiss them off through his lawyers after a homicide. Neither Ramsey nor Molly had seen the police yet. He wasn't surprised that Molly had gone straight upstairs with Emma to try to keep her from the police. He just wished he could have gone with her, too.
Three plainclothes officers sat on the edges of their chairs, looking uncomfortable, as if they had hemorrhoids, amid the stiff opulence and, naturally, in the company of Mason Lord's gorgeous young wife. All three of them rose when Ramsey and Mason walked into the living room.
Mason introduced himself, nodded coolly to each of the three men, then sat down beside his wife. He looked down at his fingernails and began to swing his leg.
Immediately, one of the men turned to Ramsey. "Judge Hunt? I'm Riley O'Connor. It's a pleasure and an honor to meet you, sir." Detective O'Connor was at least fifteen years older than Ramsey, skinny as a one-sided board, and bald. His dark eyes glittered with intelligence and humor. "We're very pleased that you're all right." The two men shook hands. Detective O'Connor introduced the other two officers, Sergeant Burnside and Detective Martinez.
Mason Lord cleared his throat. "Do you have all the information you need, officers?"
Detective O'Connor arched a very black eyebrow. "No, sir, we've actually just gotten started. We've got a murder on our hands, a particularly violent murder. Mrs. Lord hasn't really had time to tell us much. And you just got here. However, I'd like to speak to Judge Hunt first. Then perhaps you'd be free, sir?"
