Page 79 of Tasting Fire
Fifteen minutes later, Cash had Pied-Pipered the ER staff away from the desk and entertained them with a recount of a call he’d run on in LA.
A dude’s wife had had enough of marriage to an out-of-work actor and had told him to get the hell out. But being a thinking man, the guy had taken a nail gun and stapled his left forearm to the living room floor. In his mind, his attachment to the hardwood prevented her from throwing him out of the house.
But two medics, three firefighters, and a reciprocating saw had dashed the guy’s dreams of a reconciliation. Then again, he and his lady had been blowing teary-eyed kisses to one another as Cash and his partner had hauled him into the ambulance.
Maybe they had worked it out after all.
“Staple gun and reciprocating saw, huh?” Emmy asked as they hurried out of the hospital and toward his truck.
“You’d think human creativity would hit its pinnacle at some point. But nope, as a species, we apparently have an unlimited supply of shit-brained ideas.”
“It does keep you and me in business.”
He snorted. “Job stability.”
“Hey, someone has to do it.” Her smile faded quickly. “I ordered a full toxicology on Jesse’s blood, so it’ll take a day or more for the lab to get back with me.”
“You think he was on drugs?”
“I’m just looking for a needle in a haystack.” She took his hand and met his gaze. “I haven’t mentioned any of this to Maggie because I have zero proof this was more than an accident. But I don’t want to cause problems between the two of you. If you think we should—”
“Not the first time I’ve left my big sister out of the loop,” he said with a squeeze and a smile. “Won’t be the last.”
