Page 85 of The Catcher
Callie laughed and placed her flowers among the others. Pulling up a chair close to the bed, she asked, “How are you doing?”
“No complaints,” Noah replied. “Well, I could, but it wouldn’t get me anywhere. Still, hospital food is every bit as bland as I remember, but beyond that, okay. I’m on the mend. The doctor says I should be out of here in about another week. I will require some rehabilitation, somelong-term care, and possibly a few surgeries to fix my lower legs.”
Callie nodded sympathetically, briefly lingering on his bandaged legs and hands. “The other two are already out and appear well,” she informed him.
“I heard. Natalie came by yesterday,” Noah added.
“Ah, okay. Yeah, I bumped into her at the grocery store. She was very appreciative. Couldn’t say enough about what you had done.”
“We. It was both of us, Thorne.”
“Right, but because of your quick actions, they skated out of it with only a few burns,” Callie replied, her expression momentarily somber as she glanced at his injuries. “If there is anything you need over the next week, give me a call, okay?” she offered sincerely.
“I appreciate that; between you, Porter, McKenzie, and family, I think I should be okay,” Noah replied gratefully.
The door swung open, and a tall, good-looking guy entered, holding two cups of coffee. He wore a jean jacket, a plaid shirt, green khakis, and sandy boots. “Hey,” he said to Noah before handing Callie a coffee. “Oh, I’m sorry, I only got two. Can I get you one?”
“I’m good. Thank you.”
Noah glanced at the newcomer, his gaze bouncing between him and Callie. “Um. Noah. This is Jake Richmond. He works?—”
“For DEC. A forest ranger. We’ve met,” Noah interjected, recognizing Jake from previous encounters.
“That’s right. I’m in the building across from your department,” Jake confirmed.
“It’s good to see you again. How…?” Noah trailed off, trying to figure out the connection between Jake and Callie.
“Oh! Um, Jake asked if I would go to the theater with him this evening,” Callie explained, her words sounding a bit rushed.
Noah raised his eyebrows. “The theater?”
She nodded. “To see a film.”
Silence stretched between them for a moment.
“Okay. Very good,” Noah replied with a feigned smile because a twinge of something unfamiliar stirred within him. Was it jealousy? No, that was absurd. They weren’t an item. And yet, he couldn’t shake the odd feeling. “Well, I hope you both have a good time,” Noah said, clearing his throat as he looked back at Callie. He sensed that she recognized his discomfort, especially when he seemed to want to be alone. “Hey, thank you for dropping by and the flowers. I’m feeling a little tired. I don’t mean to rush you, but if you don’t mind,” Noah added, hinting at his desire for solitude.
“Right. Sure,” Callie responded, rising from her chair and exchanging a glance with Jake. “Remember what I said. If you need anything, just let me know.”
“I will do,” Noah assured her.
As Callie held his gaze for a moment longer, Noah couldn’t help but feel unease. It was as if she was trying to decipher his expression before she exited the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
After they were gone, he exhaled a lungful of air, not realizing he’d been holding it in. Noah picked up hisphone and checked his messages. There were a couple from Ray, Maddie, and Gretchen, who reassured him that the kids were doing fine and that she’d be by later with them.
He tapped on one from Savannah that had gone directly to voicemail while he was talking with Callie.“Good news. Whoever took you off the case has had a change of heart. They said a mistake was made. Oh, and Braithwaite was pushing for your badge, but his complaint hasn’t gained any traction. He’s facing backlash for his actions over the Nicholas Wilson situation. McKenzie is in line for a commendation, as are you.We look forward to seeing you back whenever you’re ready.”
He set the phone down and gazed out the window. He should have felt a sense of accomplishment, but he didn’t. There were no victories to be had in the aftermath of tragedy.
No more than twenty minutes had passed before there was another knock at the door. Noah looked over to see an older gentleman in the doorway. The man appeared to be in his early seventies, yet he carried himself with a vitality that belied his age. Dressed impeccably in a dark navy-blue peacoat and a flat cap, he exuded an air of refinement.
“Noah Sutherland?” the man inquired.
“That would be me,” Noah replied.
The man entered the room, his demeanor calm and composed. “Thomas O’Connell. I was an investigator for the State Police. You left a message.”
Noah’s eyes brightened at the sight of Thomas. “Yes. Please,” he said, straightening up in bed, albeit with aslight groan of pain. He motioned to the chair beside him. Thomas took a seat, his posture attentive.
