A Berry Good Knight

A Dark and Stormy Knight (FIVE)

It seemed that I was the only one who had seen her. Where had the nametag she was wearing come from if she didn't check in at the reunion?

How much Christian Brothers could this woman consume? Why hadn't she appeared intoxicated while on that ledge after downing an entire bottle?

So, upon arriving home she took the time to change clothes before attempting suicide? Earlier she had on a black pantsuit and now nothing except boxer shorts and a T-shirt.

Noticing my bloodied hand, one of the female ambulance workers insisted on wrapping it in bandages until we reached the hospital. She and I were both sure that my hand would require stitches at the very least.

Her breathing and pulse having resumed, Brooke was carefully placed on a stretcher with an oxygen mask covering her nose and mouth. They wheeled her out and I started to follow when something caught my attention. Walking toward the desk, I noticed two sealed envelopes, picking up the one with my name written on the front of it. Shoving it in the waistband of my pants, I headed out of the bedroom.

Sitting in the waiting room, my eyes were on the television but my mind was a million miles away wondering how Brooke was doing. Not long ago, a doctor informed me that they were going to perform a gastric lavage, which is fancy doctor talk for stomach pumping. They were done with me. X-rays revealed that I hadn't fractured any bones, but I did have a few nasty lacerations that required stitching. My sprained hand had been secured in a bandage that I would have to wear for a minimum of ten days. There was a row of tiny stitches on my thigh as well from when I'd climbed through the window. I had more than a couple of curious looks thrown my way in the emergency room when I explained how I obtained those injuries. I half expected someone to call the police on me, but so far the boys and girls in blue hadn't shown up to arrest me.

Finally making up my mind to read it, I picked up the envelope that I had put on my lap. I was about to tear it open when my phone, which I'd had to clean, alerted me to a call. Answering, I heard the simultaneously relieved and fretful voice of my best friend Julie.

"Where did you disappear to? People were commenting on how you were running around like a chicken with its head cut off!"

That was quite an image. I had to chuckle. "Everything is all right, Julie," I assured her in a calm voice. "I'm fine." The pain reliever that the doctor gave me had kicked in, so I really was fine pain wise.

"I'm happy to hear that, but you didn't answer my question. Where are you? I heard something about you searching for Brooke Berry?" Julie didn't try to conceal her derision at mentioning Brooke.

"Julie, do you trust me?"

"You should know the answer to that."

"Okay, then know that in time I will tell you everything, but not right this moment. Not tonight."

"Cooper, what's up? Something's wrong. I can tell."

"Just trust me. Please, Julie. I promise that I'll fill you in soon."

She didn't give an immediate response. I could just imagine my friend frowning at the phone because I wasn't in the room to either frown at or throttle. Or perhaps both. "Tell me one thing at least. Whatever you're doing, does it involve Brooke? Is she there, wherever there is with you?"

"Yes." She sighed through the phone. "Julie, I know what I'm doing. This is important."

"You're a grownup now, but, Cooper, I feel the need to remind you that she broke your heart once. What's to stop her from doing it twice?" she asked as gently as possible. "And this time you won't stop me from killing her."