“Okay.” Tears burned my eyes. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”
Joe chuckled. “Mason Deveraux’s too hard-headed to let a light pole seriously injure him.”
I laughed through my tears. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“I’m sorry to be the one telling this to you, and I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else.”
“Thank you.”
“Is Neely Kate with you? Maybe she should drive.”
I took a deep breath. “No. I’m fine. I’ll be at the hospital soon.”
“Rose.” He hesitated. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I’m here for you.”
“Thank you.”
I hung up and turned to Neely Kate.
Her eyes were wide with fright. “Is Mason okay?”
I nodded. “Joe thinks so. He was in a car accident, though, and he hit his head. Joe said he needs stitches, and they’re going to do a CT scan to make sure nothing’s wrong.”
“Do you want me to drive?”
I took a deep breath, feeling calmer as I slowly let it out. Joe assured me that Mason was fine. My feeling of foreboding was just an overreaction. “No, I’m okay. I’m sorry we can’t try to find Billy Jack, but I have to see Mason.”
“Rose.” She leaned over and rubbed my arm. “Mason comes first right now. It’s okay.”
Neely Kate talked to me all the way to the hospital. I was glad she was there to keep me company, because my mind was racing with all kinds of worst-case scenarios, despite Joe’s insistence that Mason was okay. If he was okay, why hadn’t he called me himself? What if Joe had pretended Mason was in better shape than he was because he was worried I’d have my own accident on the way to the hospital? Neely Kate could tell I was a bundle of nerves by the time we got to the hospital twenty minutes later.
“You know that Mason’s too bullheaded to let anything bad happen to him, right? His run-in with Daniel Crocker proved that to be true.”
I nodded, but tears stung my eyes. Something was really wrong. An ache filled the back of my head, reminding me of the feeling I’d gotten with two of my recent visions. What did that mean?
As soon as I parked, I raced through the emergency room entrance up to the counter. “I’m here to see Mason Deveraux.”
The receptionist, a woman who appeared to be in her forties or fifties, looked up at me with mild interest. “Are you family?”
“I’m his girlfriend.”
Her gaze returned to her computer. “Then you’ll have to wait in the waiting room,” she said, sounding bored.
I splayed my hands on the chest-high counter and leaned forward. “And if we were married? Would I have to wait then?”
“No,” she said as though I’d asked the stupidest question in the world.
“Can you at least tell me if he’s okay?” My voice rose in frustration.
“We only give that information to family members.” She glanced up at me with disdain, then said, “But you’re welcome to sit in the waiting room.”
I wasn’t about to take no for answer. “Will you at least tell him I’m here? He’s been a patient here before, and I sat with him in his exam room. Just a couple of months ago.”
She shook her head, looking irritated. “Sorry. I can’t relay messages from the waiting room to patients. You’ll just have to stay where you are.”
I walked away from the counter and pulled out my phone, dialing Mason’s cell phone. My anxiety grew when it went straight to voice mail. I considered calling Maeve, but I didn’t know if anyone had informed her yet. I didn’t want to scare her, since I didn’t know anything other than what Joe had told me.
I stared into Neely Kate’s face, pulling back my shoulders. “I’m not gonna wait. I’m goin’ back there.”
She gave me a slight nod, a determined glint in her eyes. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you in to see him. Just wait until the receptionist is distracted enough, then run back there.”
“What are you gonna do?”
She laughed. “Create a distraction.” She started moaning and grabbing her stomach. “Oh, I feel like I have the flu.”
There were about twenty people gathered in the waiting room, and a few looked up at her.
She coughed several times, spinning around in a circle, spreading her “germs.” “Hypothetically, if I had just gotten back from Africa a few days ago, and I might have been on a bus with some people who were throwing up blood, what do you suppose they had?” she asked, wide-eyed and innocent.
A couple of people jumped out of their seats in panic.
“Ebola!” one of the men shouted, pointing at her.
The waiting room became deafening as people screamed and scrambled to grab their things.
The receptionist stood up, looking over the counter. “What’s going on in there?”
“She has Ebola!” an elderly woman shouted.
The whole room was soon in an uproar, and the receptionist started for the door to the reception area.
“Someone call security!” a man shouted.