She looked at Curt, his eyes closed again.
"Call Dennis first," she screamed and ran up the stairs. The ambulance was there moments after she returned, and the paramedics had Curt on a stretcher in seconds. They kept track of his vitals all the way to the hospital. Terri followed in her own car, the sheriff's deputy leading the way. She knew the doctor on duty at the emergency room, of course, Steve Battie, who was only a few years older than she was and working out of his cousin's practice in Liberty. The protocol for Curt's situation was cut and dried. They immediately determined he had a concussion, slight, but significant enough to hospitalize him and keep him under observation.
Will Dennis appeared at the hospital only twenty minutes after she had. She described as much of what happened as she could and then, after Curt had been through X-ray, they both went to his bedside.
"Curt, Will Dennis is here," she said and Curt opened his eyes slowly.
"She did it," he said. "Book her."
Everyone laughed.
"What really happened, Curt?" Will asked.
Curt turned to look at Terri before speaking.
"Terri and I had a lovers' spat earlier in the evening. I was feeling miserable about it and decided to go to her house to apologize. I wouldn't have gotten much sleep anyway. When I pulled into the driveway, there was a man at the door. He was kneeling down and obviously doing something to trigger the lock and open it.
"He stood up quickly when I drove in and I guess I was a little too much Mr. Superman. I wasn't thinking sensibly. I charged out of the car toward him, yelling, 'What the hell are you doing? Who are you?' As I drew closer, I recognized him. He was the same man Terri had been talking to in the hospital parking lot. She said he was a state policeman," he added looking accusingly at her. He turned back to Will Dennis. "He stood his ground, but when I stepped up to him, he lashed out with the handle of a pistol... looked like a .45-caliber pistol to me, and caught me in the head so sharply, my lights went out.
"The rest," he said after a deep breath, "you guys know." Will Dennis nodded, looked at Terri and then turned back to Curt.
"Did you notice a car in front of the house? I imagine you would have seen one in the driveway," he said.
"There wasn't any in the driveway, but I vaguely recall passing a car parked on the side of the road, right by the house."
"Anything you remember about the car?"
Curt started to shake his head and closed his eyes. He was still having some pain.
"Sorry. All I can tell you is it was probably black and probably a full sedan."
"Okay," Will Dennis said turning to Terri. "I'll be in touch."
"Who was that guy? What's going on?" Curt asked, showing more agitation.
"I'll tell you, Curt. Just relax. Let me just see Will out," she said and followed the district attorney into the hallway. "What should I tell him?" she asked when they were beyond Curt's hearing.
"It doesn't look like he's going anywhere for a while. You can tell him all you know, if you like. Ask him to keep it to himself. He's earned it," Will Dennis said. "Not that it's anything he would want to earn, I'm sure," he added.
"Do you want me to meet with the police sketch artist? I'm no law enforcement officer, but I think it's about time."
"Yes, probably. We'll talk about it tomorrow," he said.
"Okay, but as a physician, I'm advising you to go home and get some sleep. One of us has to be fresh in the morning and I know it's not going to be me," she said.
"Should I alert your patients?" he asked jokingly.
"Hey, this won't be the first time I go to work on a few hours of sleep, if any. You should try interning."
"Thanks, but I have my own internship going at the moment," he replied, wished Curt well and left.
She returned to Curt's room. For a few moments, she thought he would doze off now and she could put off telling him anything, but as if he could sense her decision, his eyes popped open.
"Hey," he said. "What the hell am I doing here?"
"You said it yourself, big shot. You decided to be Superman."
"Okay," he said reaching for her hand. "I don't have the strength for crossexamination, so just give me your testimony straight." She smiled.
"Where do I begin?" she asked rhetorically, and then proceeded to tell him all she knew. His reactions moved from incredulity to abject terror.
"No one knows how he's doing these terrible crimes?"
"Nor can they say with certainty apparently that he is doing them at all. It's a mystery that just grows deeper and now, more complicated for me," she said examining his wound again.
"You're not going home now, are you?"
"I don't know. I didn't think about it."
"I'd feel a lot better if you would go to my house instead, Terri, or to your parents."
"Right. Go to my parents and we'll have panic in the streets," she said.
"Then go to my house. Our house," he added. She nodded. "Promise?"
"On my Hippocratic oath."
Two hours later, after Curt was resting comfortably, she got into the elevator and walked down the corridor to exit the hospital through the emergency room. That was when she knew not only wouldn't she go to Curt's house; she wouldn't get even an hour's sleep.
Darlene Stone finished cleaning up and shut down the lights behind the bar. Griffy asked the last two hangers-on to leave, telling them as he usually did, to get a life. She and he had no doubt they would stay until morning if Griffy didn't shove them off. He was the current owner of the Inn and lived with his wife in a small apartment above the bar and restaurant. She did most, if not all, of the cooking, not that they had that much of a food crowd here. Burgers, fries, meatloaf twice a week, and roast beef sandwiches were the heart of their small menu.
"All and all a pretty good night," Griffy told her after quickly reviewing their receipts. "I guess we'll keep the Outlaws on another month for sure."
"Sometimes I think you could have my grandparents up there howling and it wouldn't matter," she said.
"And they probably wouldn't charge as much," Griffy said laughing. She gave him a hug, said goodnight, and left the Inn. She was halfway to her car in the rear parking lot where the help parked when she noticed Paula Gilbert's automobile still in the lot. It gave her pause. She smirked and nodded to herself, imagining the handsome stranger had been waiting for her and taken her off to some rendezvous. Envy boiled in her heart. It could have been me, she thought. It should have been me.
She continued to walk, gazing back at Paula's car. Suddenly something caught her eye and she stopped again. The clouds had shifted and some starlight moved a shadow just enough to reveal what looked like someone silhouetted in the front seat behind the steering wheel.
Who was that? Paula? Why would she be just sitting there in her automobile this late in the evening?
Curious, Darlene changed direction and headed toward the car. As she drew closer, the sight before her became clearer and clearer and stopped her in her steps, practically gluing the soles of her feet to the tarred surface. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? She actually wiped them with her balled fists and looked again.
Paula Gilbert was naked. Her bare bosom could not be mistaken. The two mounds of white flesh capped by those large areolas were too impressive. She hurried over to the car and then, just before she reached out to knock on the window, gasped, and stepped back quickly. The sight brought up the little she had eaten and the small amount of beer she had drunk to wash it down. She shook her head to deny what she had seen and then she turned and ran back to the Inn.
Griffy had already locked the door behind her and put out the lights. She shook the handle and then pounded the door and shouted for him. Almost three full minutes later the light went on in the kitchen, and he appeared, moving cautiously with surprise toward the rear entrance. He was in just his pants.