The Ghost Wore Yellow Socks - lanyon Josh - Страница 45
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Staying down behind the rocks, they crawled for the passage. Stein fired into the wall, and it was all Perry could do to keep moving.
He felt around for the latch and then found it at last, pressing on what appeared to be one of the beams in the wall. The door swung open and they scuttled through, Perry holding fast to Nick with his good arm. Nick’s blood was soaking into his side.
“How bad are you hit?” He gulped. “You should stay still. You’re losing blood.”
“Move it,” Nick panted. “I’ll lose more blood if he catches us.” He turned and fired a couple of rounds at the entrance behind them.
The stairs were ahead. Perry’s breath was catching in his chest, he wheezed desperately helping Nick.
Somehow they made it up the stairs and then staggered down the passage to bobbing lights that were coming toward them swiftly.
It’s the light at the end of the tunnel, Perry thought woozily and closed his eyes.
Chapter Fourteen
Nick hated hospitals, and he had signed the Against Medical Advice form practically as soon as he could sit up. He was not in any shape to pack and leave for California, of course, and in any case there were a number of things he had to take care of first -- not the least of which was signing for the cops his statement regarding the recent violent events at the Alston Estate.
Perry did not enjoy hospitals, but since -- in addition to his broken arm, cracked ribs, and concussion -- he had developed a mild case of pneumonia, he was relieved to find himself in a hospital surrounded by lots of starchy personnel. He felt safe there.
When Nick came to see him -- interestingly pale for Nick and with his arm in a sling, but still somehow looking alive and vital and very tough -- Perry managed a two-finger salute and a flicker of a smile. He fell almost immediately back to sleep -- not sure if Nick really did sit down next to his bed or if he dreamed it.
There was nothing to be afraid of any more. He was alive. Nick was alive. Nothing else seemed very important.
The police came and took his statement and then went away again.
Perry began to feel better. He began to worry about the fact that he was in the hospital without health insurance and that his vacation was now over, and that Nick would be leaving soon. Maybe Nick was already gone?
But then Nick came to see him again.
“How are you doing?” he asked briskly. He smelled like the wintery outdoors and like his herbal soap -- a nice change from the antiseptic smells of the hospital.
“Good,” Perry said, although he looked wan and uncomfortably elfin in Nick’s opinion.
Perry nodded to the enormous fruit basket on the cabinet by the bed. “Have an apple.”
Nick examined the basket. There was no return address, but the card said, Wish me luck. And I’ll wish you the same. Janie.
That reminded him, and he brought Perry up to speed on what was happening at the Alston Estate. Poor Miss Dembecki had been sent to a state mental hospital, Jane and David Center had disappeared back into the Witness Protection Program, and Mrs. Mac was advertising for new tenants.
Perry asked carefully, “Is Stein… I didn’t kill him or anything?”
“Nah, he’ll be arraigned as soon as he gets out of the hospital.” Nick grinned briefly. “You shot him twice, and you managed not to hit a vital area. You’re either one hell of a marksman or the worst shot in the world.”
“It’s hard when they shoot back,” Perry said.
“Yeah.”
“Was Miss Dembecki really Shane Moran’s niece?”
“Yeah. Apparently she grew up on legends of her infamous great-great-uncle. The story is a couple of Moran’s gang got away, and after Moran was killed, they went to his sister and told her that Verity Lane was in on the whole heist. Moran left the jewels with her, she hid them -- nobody but she knew where apparently -- and then the plan was she was going to run away with Moran. But he was killed and she had some kind of breakdown and that was apparently that. She left her husband and moved to France and apparently never thought of the jewels again.
“Wow. How did Mr. Stein get involved?”
“He’s not talking.”
Nick was already prowling restlessly around the room, clearly impatient to be on his way. Perry asked, striving to keep his voice neutral, “When are you leaving?”
“A couple of days. Right after Christmas.”
Perry nodded.
“I’ll have to come back for the trial,” Nick told him, and Perry smiled.
“That’s true.”
Nick took another turn around Perry’s half of the bare little room and then said, “I called your folks.”
“You…”
Nick avoided Perry’s gaze. “I got the number from Mrs. Mac, and I called them. They had a right to know.”
He glanced at Perry, and Perry was so still he didn’t appear to be breathing. Nick said, “They want to see you, but they’ll respect your wishes if you don’t want to see them.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to see them?” Perry said faintly.
“I think they feel pretty bad about some of the things they said. Anyway, they’re staying here in the village if you feel like calling them.” Nick laid a slip of paper on Perry’s tray.
“Yeah, I want to see them,” Perry said, and his eyes got very bright and his voice got husky. He cleared it. “Are you --”
And at the same time Nick said, “I should be going.”
“Oh, right.” Perry looked very tired. He smiled at Nick and said, “Will I…will you stop in to say good-bye?”
“That’s pretty much what this is,” Nick said firmly.
Perry looked more tired than ever, but he still managed something like a smile. “Right. Well, thanks. I mean, thanks isn’t much…”
Nick covered his mouth with a quick hard kiss. Perry kissed him back hard and resisted the urge to wrap his arms around Nick and say a lot of things that would guarantee Nick didn’t look him up when he came back for the trial.
“Take care of yourself, kid,” Nick said gruffly, and he was gone -- out the door and down the corridor before Perry opened his eyes.
* * * * *
Perry’s parents had been almost exactly as Nick had pictured. Pop was ex-marine and owned his own contracting business. Mom was of the stay-at-home school, everything in apple-pie order and neat as a pin. Very nice people. Good people. People of limited imaginations but the best intentions -- and they loved Perry every bit as much as Nick had figured they did. Perry came by his stubbornness honestly, but the horror of learning what had nearly befallen their frail little darling in the big bad world had made them desperate to get him comfortably back in the nest, where hopefully he would outgrow his unhealthy attachment to other boys, but either way, he’d be safe beneath the parental wing.
Nick knew he had done the right thing by contacting them. No way did he want the kid left on his own for Christmas, and as for himself…well, a clean break was the best thing for both of them. He was ten years older and a lifetime harder than Perry, and frankly he didn’t want to queer the deal -- literally -- in Los Angeles by showing up with his gay lover. He didn’t know how far Roscoe’s tolerance stretched -- he didn’t know anything about the partners -- and he couldn’t afford to blow this chance.
Maybe if Perry had…kicked a little, tried to talk him out of it, showed a little backbone…because the kid did have guts and he was stubborn, and if he wasn’t fighting, then maybe he knew Nick was right.
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