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the hospital."
"I don't need the hospital."
He traced a fingertip over her temple. "You've got a major-league b.u.mp
on your head."
"I didn't even feel it." Though she could now, with more clarity than
was comfortable, she stood firm. "I won't go, Michael. I've had enough
of hospitals to last me a lifetime."
"All right. We'll get someone to take you home and stay with you."
"Can't you?"
"I've got to check this out," he began, then glanced up when McCarthy
came back in.
"You must be a h.e.l.l of a driver, Miss McAvoy."
"Emma," she said. "I was too scared to be a bad one."
"Mike, I need you a minute."
"Just sit. I won't be long," he told Emma as he rose. Recognizing the
took on his partner's face, he shut the door behind him. "Well?"
"I don't know how the h.e.l.l she managed to get through it in one piece.
Car looks like she took third place in the Demolition Derby."
Casually, he laid a hand on Michael's arm. He didn't think his partner
was quite ready to take a look at it himself. "I had one of the guys
check the hospitals before I took a look at her car. They just got an
admission, car wreck up in the hills. Cut the guy out of a brand-new
Cadillac. Blackpool," he said and watched Michael's eyes narrow. "He's
in a coma."
Are you sure you're up to this?" Johnno took a careful study of Emma as
she came to the bottom of the stairs.
"Don't I look up to it?" She did a slow model's pivot. The deep blue
dress left her shoulders bare and dipped low at the back before it slid
down her body, sparkling with hundreds of bugle beads.
Her hair was scooped up in intricate tiny waves and clipped with two
glittery combs. On the lapel of the silver jacket she carried was
pinned the phoenix he had given her.
"I'd best not comment what you look up to." Still, he crossed to her to
stroke a thumb over the bruise on her temple which she'd camouflaged
with makeup. "You had a rough time a couple days ago."
"But it's over." She walked to the table to pour him a gla.s.s of wine.
After a moment's hesitation, she poured another for herself "Blackpool
can't harm me from a hospital bed." She offered Johnno a gla.s.s. "I know
Michael believes he was involved with Darren's murder, and I certainly
won't rule him out, but until he comes out of the coma-if he comes
out-we won't be sure. I've tried to picture him in Darren's room that
night, but I just can't remember."
"There was someone else there," he reminded her.
"Isn't that why I have the hottest escort in town for the awards
tonight?"
He grinned over the rim of his gla.s.s. "I doubt if I make up for
Michael."
She set down the gla.s.s, barely touched, and picked up her evening bag.
"You don't have to make up for anyone. And he'll get there if he can.
Ready?"
