“Four hours,” Rachel answered. “That’s a long time to be unconscious, Nick. I think it’s a pretty good idea for you to stay here overnight. They did the head scans, but-”
“But nothing. I’ll observe myself at home on my balcony with a glass of red wine. It’s good for the blood. Besides, I need to go home and write a scene. It will have my usually suave assassin, Diego, stick his nose in someone else’s business, and take a bullet for it.”
“Yep,” Rachel observed, “you were right, Gus. That slug never had a chance. It was a mission impossible creasing Nick’s skull. You better have your act together when we leave. The media is camped out already. I’ll go engage our Doctor Kelly, and give him the word you’re leaving. Maybe he can suggest a way to bypass the media out of here.”
“I’ll get my clothes on while you’re hunting. Danger can you grab my clothes out of their closet? If the Doc comes back with Rachel to start hammering me, I want to be ready to go.”
Jean handed Nick his clothes and shoes. “Are you sure leaving is a good idea, Dad?”
Nick headed for the bathroom, making sure he didn’t pitch forward on his face. “It was my idea. Of course it’s good.”
Jean smiled and shook her head, hands on hips in Rachel mimicry. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Noted.”
“I’ll go get the battle wagon ready to move,” Gus said. “Have Rachel call me with where to pick you three up.”
“Will do, Gus,” Nick replied before disappearing into the bathroom. By the time he came out of the bathroom fully clothed, Doctor Kelly was standing with his arms folded at the door.
Ira Kelly was an imposing figure. Well over six feet tall, weighing what Nick figured was close to two hundred fifty pounds. “Hi Doc, how you doin’.”
Doc Kelly smiled. His dark face lightened a bit. “Oh, I see. You think because I’m black, you can ignore my overnight orders. I’ve got news for you, redneck.”
Nick chuckled. “Good one, Doc. I promise to come back at the first sign of anything wrong. Jean and Rachel will be with me.”
“You’re nuts, Nick. You could have a seizure with no warning and be gone. You’ve read the stories I’m sure. Someone thinks they’re fine, and later a grand mal seizure hits without warning. You’ve been writing too many Diego books. You’re beginning to think you are Diego. After your performance this morning, stopping that murderer, I’m beginning to wonder.”
“You must be clairvoyant, Doc,” Nick said, edging around his doctor. “I’m going home to write more Diego. He’s going to have a scene where he doesn’t mind his own business, and gets a bullet in the ass. Then he has to listen to his doctor rake his wounded ass over the coals about his lifestyle. Diego will barely be able to keep it together while handling the smartass Doc.”
By the time Nick had scurried past Doc Kelly, he was laughing at Nick’s scene explanation, allowing the rest of Nick’s entourage to glide by too. “Does this mean no back way out, Doc?”
“Can’t do it, Nick. I have to wash my hands of you or I’ll be suspended. Some of us have to follow orders. Watch him like a hawk, Rachel… you too, Jean.”
“We will, Doc, for all the good it does,” Rachel replied, her arm around Jean’s shoulders.
As the trio neared the entrance, Rachel called Gus, putting him on speaker. “How’s it look out there? We have been forced to exit the front entrance. Doc Kelly wasn’t pleased at blockhead’s decision.”
“It’s a circus, Rach,” Gus replied. “Best ask Nick how he wants to handle it.”
“I’ll send Rachel and Jean out to you, Gus. I can handle the media. Those two Vicodin have kicked in, and my head’s feeling fine. Stay close and when I can shed my media welcoming party, I’ll join you. There’s no use ducking it. The notoriety will sell books, and I am going to plug Diego’s next one in the series. I’m calling it ‘Assassin’s Folly’.”
Gus chuckled appreciatively. “Okay, Nick. I’ll put Rachel behind the wheel, and then walk over to cover your press conference. If you’re fading, I’ll do my bodyguard routine, and hustle you out to the waiting getaway car.”
“Perfect.”
Rachel disconnected. She grabbed Nick’s arm. “I hope the four of us can get to our balcony for the rest of today. We’ll plug in the portable heater, and kick back writing, whining, and joking around until you pass out, watching the fog roll in.”
Nick kissed his wife with fervor, the painkillers enabling him to think of other things, among them how much Rachel communed with his own feelings. Jean’s bump into his side reminded him he had miles to go before he slept.
“Get a room,” Jean directed with a quick hand shun at the side of her face.