Page 72 of The Bone Code
“You don’t remember?”
“Bits and pieces. I’ll jot things down as they come to me.”
“Did you get any sense of the car?”
“Something fast. Maybe a Porsche.”
“That was my impression, too.”
“And hard.”
“All cars are hard.”
“Very, very hard.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Whatever the model, the psycho driving it needs his head ripped off and shoved up his ass,” Ryan said.
“You really mustn’t hold back on your feelings.”
“I’ll work on it. Any developments on your container cases?”
“You really want to hear about that?”
“I do.”
I told him about Vislosky’s call.
An odd look crossed Ryan’s face. Before he could respond, a nurse entered. Not S. Beauvais. This one was tall and bony, with oversize black-framed glasses. She went through the drill with charts and monitors and tracings.
Then, turning to me, “We have had a very full morning. We mustn’t overtax the patient.”
When she’d gone, I asked Ryan, “Seriously. How dowefeel?” Imitating the nurse-speak.
“Like someone who’s had the snot beat out of him.” This time, the smile didn’t make it to the purple-rimmed eyes.
I stood and took Ryan’s hand. “Call me when you’re rested. I’ll be here in a flash.”
“What will you do without me?” Groggy.
I had a plan.
My mobile rang as I was exiting I-20 onto rue Guy.
“Annie Fanny!” Summoning a cheeriness I didn’t feel.
“What the sweet baby Jesus is going on?”
“What?”
“You sounded like death on that voice mail.”
I unloaded all the way to the condo. When I stopped talking, the line was silent for so long I thought we’d been disconnected.
“Anne?”
“I’m here. How’s the little buckaroo doing?”
