Page 22 of Playing for Keeps (Checkmate 4)

Flipping to the internet browser, I hold my breath and type LBKA into the search bar.

It took me only a moment in that hospital room to catalog most of Riley’s situation: left leg, below-the-knee, amputation. I’ve had enough time with guys like Timmy through work that what pops up on the internet doesn’t shock me, but I’ve never known an amputee so close to their surgery date.

They come to me to help regain strength, to learn how to walk with confidence, to find muscles they never knew they had. They don’t come to me while the staples remain, so I learn something new when I scroll through an article, and it mentions amputees won’t shower or bathe for the first few weeks after surgery. Their incision is to remain completely dry, so they wash with wipes and make do until they can get something better.

I learn that there are machines thatcan help with phantom pains, should Riley suffer from those, and if that doesn’t help, we could try mirror therapy. I make plans for Riley’s future despite the fact he asked me to take a leap, and I promise myself I’ll watch closely, because there’s no way in hell he’ll tell me he’s in pain.

At the thirty minute mark, McHotty steps back into the room with a dopey cat and slides her into the cage with a rueful grin. “Sorry. She wouldn’t keep still, so I had to relax her a little.”

Frowning, I lower to meet her sleepy eyes. “What did you do to her? She’s okay, right?”

“She’s fine, just a little sedation. She’ll sleep a couple hours, then she’ll be back to normal.” Without missing a beat, he scoops Nacho from the floor and holds her up to stare into her eyes. “You’ll bring this one in for her annuals, won’t you?”

“Umm…”

“I don’t have any pigs on my books, and yours is adorable.” He lowers her when she starts to squeak in a way that says she’ll take a shit in his coffee if he doesn’t let her down. Passing her across the examination table, he watches me slide her back into the dark bag. “I’d really like to see her when she’s due.”

“Have you ever worked on a pig before?”

“In practice or theory?”

“Practice! You can’t use my pig as a guinea pig.”

He chuckles and picks Ninja’s carrier up from the table. Walking toward the door, he gestures me ahead. “I’m not going to operate on her, Miss Conner. I just want to watch her grow. Ninja’s going to be fine, by the way.”

“You got the scans?”

“Eventually.” Smiling, he sets the carrier down by the reception desk and leans like we’re here to chit chat. “I’ve wrapped her tail, but there’s not much else to be done.”

“Pain medication?”

“Nope. Just let it heal. Leave the bandage on for a week or two. Her tail will always have a weird bend in it now, because the alternative is to break it again and set it straight.”

I recoil with a scrunched nose. “No, I don’t like that.”

“Exactly. Just let her heal; she’d already started on her own.”

“So when Riley gets home and asks…?”

“Tell him she’ll be as good as new before you know it, so there’s no need to panic.”

“Okay.” Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out a set of car keys and heft the heavy cage up. “I appreciate you seeing us today. Truly.” I give a shy smile and back away.

McHotty raps his knuckles against the wooden desk and startles his receptionist. “No problem. I look forward to seeing Officer Cruz back on his feet.” His face colors when his words register in his brain. “You know what I mean.”

I smile. “I know what you mean. It’s okay, you’ll know just as soon as it happens; you’ll hear me cheering him on.”

Moving through the heavy glass door and back into fresh air, I take my first deep breath since stepping into the place that stinks of wet dogs. I love dogs. They’re cute and love to impress their humans, but I don’t think I could work in a place that smells like that day in, day out.

McHotty’s receptionist must really have the hots for the guy to tolerate the smell.

Gently setting Ninja on the back seat and pulling the seatbelt around to keep the carrier secure – because I’m responsible now – I move around to the driver’s side and set Nacho’s satchel on the passenger seat. Pulling out and heading home, I reverse the process, bring the satchel back over my shoulder, unsnap Ninja’s belt, and lug her carrier inside. I place it in Riley’s closet, open the carrier door, then walk away and leave her be.

Ninja will come out when she’s ready.

Heading into the hallway, I move into the laundry room and smile at two litter boxes. Ninja’s and Nacho’s. I don’t know if pets should share. I don’t know that they would even if they could, so I have two, and I move Ninja’s into the hall so she can still have access to it. Setting Nacho on a little bed I picked up while at the store yesterday, I pat her ears and grin at her pleasure-filled purr. “I have to go for a drive, but I can’t bring you, so you stay here and sleep, then when I get home, we’ll eat dinner and watch trashy TV.”

Instead of staying put, she bounds from her bed and does a butt wiggle like she didn’t hear the part where I said she can’t come with me. I’ve had her on my body almost around the clock since I brought her home from the shelter. Hospitals, planes, cabs, Tiffany’s while I window shopped and ate my feelings because Riley wasn’t calling. But she can’t come today. I don’t have a choice.

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