Bedeviled Eggs (27 page)

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Authors: Laura Childs

BOOK: Bedeviled Eggs
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Toni bounced up the
ramp that led to the ER entrance and rocked to a stop. The three women exhaled
collec
tively,
then clambered out. Suzanne immediately dashed
into the hospital to get help.

Fifteen seconds
later, an orderly and a nurse rushed out,
pushing a gurney, white sheets
fluttering like mad. Reverend Yoder was loaded on and carted inside. The three
women,
in classic anticlimax mode, headed slowly for the
waiting room.

“What are his chances?”
asked Petra.

Toni shrugged. “Dunno.”

“I have an ominous
feeling,” said Petra.

“Don’t,” said
Suzanne. “We’ve had too many deaths al
ready.”

They sat there for
another three or four minutes. Finally,
Toni pulled out an emery board
and proceeded to tune up
her
nails. Petra picked up a magazine.

“What are you
reading?” Suzanne asked. She was so
nervous, she could barely sit still.

Petra
glanced sideways at her. “One of those magazines
aimed at
mature
women.”

“Menopause and You,”
snorted Toni.

“Oh yeah,” said
Suzanne. “I see they got Diane Keaton’s
picture on the cover, wearing a
turtleneck.” Suzanne sat for a few more seconds, then stood up so fast her
knees made
little
popping sounds. “I can’t stand this anymore. I’m
going to go see how he is.”

“Do you think we
should call someone?” Petra asked,
closing her magazine.

“What do you mean?”
asked Toni. “Like a wife?”

“He wasn’t married,”
said Petra.

“Well, we know he
doesn’t have any
kids”
said Toni.

“Maybe
...
a
church elder?” asked Petra.

Toni snapped her
fingers and pointed at her. “Great  idea.
You do that while Suzanne and I
scope things out.”

But when they got to
the ER bay, they were met with
some
resistance.

“You can’t
go in there,” a hospital security officer in
formed them. He was early
twenties, pudgy, with a fringe
of
dank blond hair that fell into his eyes.

“But we were just
in
there,” Toni argued.

The guard shook his
head. “Sorry. I’ve got my orders.”

“Hey,” said Toni, “we’re
the good guys, the cavalry
coming to the rescue. We brought Reverend Yoder in.”

“We just want to
check on his status,” said Suzanne.

“No admittance,” the
guard said, this time with more
force.

“Give me
a break,” said Toni. “You think we look like
dangerous escaped prisoners?”

The guard glared at
her. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what
convicts look like?” asked Toni.
“Sheesh.”

“I got my orders,”
said the guard. “The hospital’s worried that escaped prisoners might come here
looking for
drugs.”

“Or they might stop
at Hoobly’s looking for a date,”
Toni
snapped.

“Suzanne!” called a
male voice. It was Sam. Sam Ha
zelet. And he was striding down the hall, waving at
them.

“Thank
goodness,” said Toni. “Someone who’s
really
in charge.”

Suzanne and Toni
slipped by the guard, who still seemed
to regard them with suspicion.
“ “I heard you brought him in,” said Sam. “Good work.”

“How’s he doing?”
asked Suzanne.

“Not so good,” said
Sam. “But not so bad, either.”

Toni peered at him. “So
which is it? Maybe yes or
maybe
no?”

“Is he going to die?’
Suzanne asked, cutting to the chase.

“Probably not,” said
Sam. “You got him here pretty fast,
and now he’s on thrombolytic drugs and we’re
considering
percutaneous
coronary intervention.”

“Translation please?”
said Toni.

“He’ll probably make
it, but he’s sustained serious dam
age,” said Sam.

“Can we see him?”
Suzanne asked.

“Not right now,” said
Sam. “We’re still running tests,
looking at serum cardiac biomarkers and various things.”
When he saw her
disappointment, he said, “You know
what? You guys did good. You brought him here, and
now
we’re
going to take great care of him. So, please, go home and lock yourselves in.
Tell your guard dogs to stay alert
and keep the phone nearby. I’ll call in a couple
of hours and
give you a
complete update. Okay?”

Suzanne nodded. “Okay.”

“Everet,”
Sam called to the guard, “will you escort these
ladies to their car?”

“We have to get Petra
first,” said Suzanne.

“Get Petra and then
have Everet walk you out,” said
Sam. “And, for gosh sakes, be careful driving out there.
We
don’t want you getting
carjacked!”

“Are
you up for a glass of wine?” Suzanne asked Toni.
They’d dropped Petra
at her house, then waited as she scurried in, locked the door, and gave them
the high sign. Then
Suzanne had driven Toni back to her house where they
were going to spend
the night together. Safety in numbers,
or so the saying went.

Toni leaned back in
the chair and placed her hands behind her head. “You’re not talking Three Buck
Chuck, are
you?’

Suzanne’s mouth
twitched at the corner. “After the day
we’ve had, I think we deserve a
lot better. I have a nice
bottle
of Petite Syrah you might enjoy.”

“Let’s do it,” Toni
enthused.

“And some food,”
suggested Suzanne.

“Now you’re talking,”
said Toni, as she followed Su
zanne into the kitchen, followed by Baxter and then
Scruff.

Suzanne grabbed the
wine from her wine cooler, popped
the cork, and took two Riedel glasses from the
cupboard.
She
poured out two fingers of wine in each glass and
handed one to Toni.

Toni
swirled the red wine in her glass, then said, “We
need a toast.”

“Okay.” Suzanne
raised her glass tentatively. “Got a
suggestion?”

“Better days?”

“I’ll drink to that.”
Suzanne took a small sip, allowing the wine to slide across her tongue.
Excellent. Lush and
rich with a hint of oak. “Now for the food. Besides choco
late, what would
tickle your tummy tonight? Something
light or something heavy?”

“Definitely heavy,”
said Toni. “I can always diet tomor
row.”

“You don’t
need to diet at all,” Suzanne chided. “You
need to put on a few pounds.”

“You think?” said
Toni.

“What’s your waist
size?”

Toni frowned. “Maybe
twenty-five?”

“And your weight?”

Toni shrugged. “Hundred?
Hundred and three?”

“See?”
said Suzanne. “You got maybe a BMI of eigh
teen.”

“Huh?”

“You have the same
body mass index as an underfed
gerbil.”

“That’s good, huh?”

“Are you kidding? That’s
great.”

Toni took another sip
of wine, then her grin slowly
slipped from her face. “Reverend Yoder was skinny and he
had a heart attack.”

“You make a good
point,” said Suzanne, who was al
ready heating water and had just grabbed a package of

pasta. “So maybe we
shouldn’t have fettuccine Alfredo
after all?”

Toni grimaced. “But I
love your Alfredo!”

“Okay,” said Suzanne,
“but I’ll use half-and-half instead of heavy cream.”

“Gotta compromise
somewhere,” agreed Toni.

Just
as Suzanne was scraping up the last bits of Alfredo
sauce in her bowl, the phone rang.

“Sam,”
said Toni, who was sprawled out on the living
room floor, snarling the last of
her supper and dangling
cream-coated
noodles to both dogs.

Turns out, Toni was
right. It was Sam.

“So how
are you doing?” he asked. “Locked in all nice
and tight?”

“Hopefully,”
said Suzanne. “So what’s going on out
there? You hear any news?”

“Just
that it was four prisoners who broke out,” said
Sam, “not an entire cell block,
like first reported. Appar
ently, they stowed away in a delivery van.”

“Good security they’ve
got out there.”

“And resourceful
prisoners,” said Sam.

“How’s Reverend Yoder
doing?”

“Better,”
said Sam. “Much better, thanks in part to your
quick action.”

“We did
what we had to,” said Suzanne. “And Toni will
be delighted. She practically
qualified for the Indy 500.”

“There’s an entire
contingent from the reverend’s’
church that’s here right now,” said Sam. “Praying for
him.”
He paused. “Couldn’t
hurt.”

“I definitely concur,
Doctor. And how are
you
doing?”
‘Tired,” he said. “Heading home
in another ten minutes.”
“One heck of a crazy day,” said Suzanne.
“That it was,”
breathed Sam. “Okay, Suzanne. Take
care, love ya.” And then he was gone.

Suzanne stood there,
gaping at the phone. Had Sam realized what he’d just said to her? Love ya? A
tingle rippled through her, then she forced herself to calm down. People
said “love ya” all
the time to family and friends. On the
other hand, love was a really,
really good word, right? Sure
it
was.

“You’ve got a funny
look on your face,” said Toni, as
Suzanne wandered back into the living room. “Something
wrong?”

“Actually,
things have been put kind of right.”
“Reverend Yoder’s better!” exclaimed Toni.
“Toni, lots of things are better.”

By
ten
thirty they were zonked on pasta, wine, chocolate chunk cookies, and a quartet
of
Sex and the City
reruns.

“Man, I love Samantha’s
saucy attitude,” said Toni, sti
fling
a yawn. “She totally cracks me up.”

“She’s a pistol,”
Suzanne agreed, getting up to turn out lights. “Dogs were out a half hour ago,
so I think it’s time
we head
for bed.”

Toni stretched
languidly. “I’m so bushed, nothing could
keep me awake.”

A loud metal clank
suddenly echoed from the backyard.

“Wha...”
said
Toni, going wide-eyed, as Suzanne
held up a hand.

Tiptoeing to the
window, Suzanne pulled back the drap
ery and peered out. Her backyard was silent and
empty.
Except,
of course, for the holes that Baxter had excavated. And that his new compadre
Scruff had helped scoop out a
little
deeper.

“See anything?” Toni
asked, padding up behind her.

“No, I... doggone!”
said Suzanne.

“What?”

“Motion
detector light just flashed on. The one over the
garage.”

“Somebody
pussyfooting around out here?” asked Toni.
Her voice sounded tremulous and
worried.

“Not that I can see.”
Suzanne pressed her nose to the
window, feeling the coolness just beyond the pane of
glass.
“Oh
wait. Something knocked over my garbage cans.”

“Something? Or
someone?” asked Toni.

“I don’t
know.” Then, when she saw the worry on Toni’s
face, Suzanne said, “Probably
nothing to worry about. Just
the neighborhood raccoon looking for a handout.”

“Or kids pulling an
early Halloween prank?” asked
Toni.

‘Trying to scare us,”
Suzanne added, in what she hoped
was
a soothing tone.

But Toni wasn’t
buying it. “Huh.” She snorted. “They
did
scare us. I probably should have
brought my security
system
along.”

“Excuse me?”

Toni grinned. “My
trusty twelve-gauge shotgun.”

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