The Panic Pure

Chapter Seventeen

The hospital would never be one of Marshal's favorite places. The smell stung his nose and there was a creepy vibe that never completely went away. Plus there were all the sick people.

He'd waited for several hours before the surgeon came out to say Joanna was in stable condition. She was going to live.

Merina, Joanna's mom, burst into tears and soaked the side of Marshal's shirt. "My baby, thank God, my baby."

He awkwardly patted her on the back. Her bones felt fragile beneath her skin, like those of a bird. It scared him that he might hurt her.

Joanna's two sisters, who looked more like her than their dark haired and fragile mother, hugged each other joyously. Then, once she'd regained control of herself, Tara pried Merina off him and led her out of the room. "Let's go get something to eat. It will be a while yet before they let us see Jojo."

Marshal felt guilty about being relieved when they left. It had been stressful with them in the room, their worry digging into his own and making it even worse.

From what Crane told him before the Director left for the night, Joanna had been shot coming home. Her neighbors had called it in, and it was only the prompt arrival of police and paramedics that saved her life.

"Bastard even locked the door behind himself," Crane had said, shaking his head. "The police had to break the door down. It's only luck they spotted her legs through the window or they might have waited. She would have bled out."

It was a hurried conversation they'd held in a corner away from Joanna's family. Not wanting to add to their worry, Marshal had had to sit on the info of how close Joanna had come to dying.

But now it looked like she was going to be all right.

Marshal slumped on the uncomfortable plastic chair. He scrubbed a hand over his stubbly cheeks and thought about getting another cup of terrible vending machine coffee. His stomach tightened in warning and he decided not.

He glanced at his watch. It was still early yet and he figured he'd give Danny another hour before calling. There was no reason they should both be sleep-deprived and miserable.

Joanna was going to be okay.

* * *

Arthur was putting his watch on when he remembered he was out of milk. He'd indulged in a strawberry-pomegranate smoothie the night before and used the last of the milk and yogurt both. He would have to pick some groceries up later.

Until then, he grabbed a travel mug and left the guesthouse.

The sun was just peeking through the trees and the air was fresh with morning dew. He could see slug trails across the stone walkway, but there were no live ones in sight. He still watched where he was putting his feet just to be safe.

He let himself into the kitchen through the back door and breathed in the scent of delicious food. "Good morning, beautiful."

Olivia looked up from where she was rolling out cinnamon rolls. "Look at you, all bright-eyed and bushy tailed. What brings you over so early?"

Arthur held up his mug with his best waifish look. "Please miss, might I trouble you for some milk?"

She laughed. "Well, don't expect me to get it for you."

Arthur unscrewed the lid on the mug and went to the fridge to fill it up. If he didn't make it to the store tonight, he at least wouldn't have to deal with plain black coffee. "Thank you, milady."

"Hm," she scoffed. "Make sure you stop back in later and have some of these rolls. Otherwise they'll just go to waste."

Making sure the lid was tight on his mug, Arthur sketched her a quick bow. "I shall return, dear Olivia. Make me a willow cabin at your gate, and call upon my soul within the house; Write loyal cantons of contemned love and sing them loud even in the dead of night; Halloo your name to the reverberate hills and make the babbling gossip of the air cry out 'Olivia!' Oh, you should not rest between the elements of air and earth, but you should pity me. Olivia!"