Glancing toward the restaurant, she recalled her intention to eat while she was here, but no longer felt like it. Perhaps afterward . . . if she wasn’t immediately arrested and dragged off to the hoosegow, Mary thought with a grimace. The possibility made her wonder where the police were. Surely they should be here by now, taking statements and starting their investigation?
The door opened behind her again and Mary glanced around to see the doctors coming out of the RV. There was blood on their clothes now, Mary noted and it suddenly occurred to her that what she’d thought was ketchup on the floor of the RV was probably blood as well.
“How is he?” Mary asked.
The man paused and turned to close the door behind them. Mary frowned as she noted the marks on his neck, but then glanced to the brunette as she said brightly, “He’s fine. The EMTs are with him now.”
“But—” Mary paused and glanced toward the RV as the generator came on. They probably needed extra light, or to plug in their defibrillator or something, she thought and then realized they’d left everything but the stretcher and the orange bag out here when they’d gone in to assess the situation.
“What are they . . . ?” Her question trailed away as she swung back to see that while she’d been distracted, the Jensons had taken the opportunity to slip away and were now on the way back into the restaurant.
Letting her breath out on an exasperated hiss, Mary glanced back to the RV and had just started forward when the door suddenly opened and the EMTs started out. She could hear the sound of a shower from inside before the door closed and glanced to the two men with bewilderment as they moved to their rolling stretcher.
“Are you going to be able to get that inside?” she asked when one man moved to the head of the stretcher. “It’s kind of tight in there.”
“No need,” the EMT said lightly, offering her a shiny smile. “He’s fine.”
“He’s not fine,” Mary argued quickly. “He was nearly dead. He—you aren’t just leaving him?” she protested as the man began to drag the rolling stretcher back toward their vehicle. “He needs help.”
“He’s fine. The blood was all show,” the second EMT, the driver, said reassuringly, following the stretcher back toward the ambulance.
“But—” Mary turned to peer at her RV with dismay, wondering what she was supposed to do with the man. Wait for him to come out seemed the most sensible answer. She found it hard to believe he was just fine as everyone kept saying, but if he was, she presently had a huge naked man in her RV. And in her shower from the sounds of it, she thought grimly She’d have to fill up the water tank, and empty the gray tank once she reached the campground, and—who was she kidding, she wasn’t going anywhere until the man presently enjoying her shower got his butt out of her RV. Mary wasn’t forgetting the shiver of trepidation she’d experienced when her gaze had met his. There had been something about his expression, the concentration, and the deep dark black eyes with silver flecks that almost seemed to glow . . .
No, she wasn’t going inside until he came out. If he came out. What if he just drove off with her RV? She’d left her damned keys in there, Mary recalled. And her purse. The man could just drive off with her vehicle and have himself a relaxing holiday in her RV.
She should go in and get her keys while he was in the shower. Not that she was sure he was actually in the shower, she thought. Mary couldn’t imagine he was in shape to manage such a task. But everyone kept saying he was just fine, she reminded herself and started to open the RV door, only to pause with it barely cracked as she realized the sound of rushing water was gone.
She’d just wait for him to come out, Mary decided, easing the door closed again as she heard movement inside. The hum of the generator stopped and she shifted nervously, wondering what she should say when he did come out. If he came out. Surely he would come out?
Bailey whined beside her and nosed at the door, suggesting she thought Mary should go in, but Mary shook her head. “We’ll wait,” she said quietly, turning her back to the door, and watching idly as a speeding black van slowed abruptly on the highway and put on its blinker, indicating its intention to turn into the lot. It would have a bit of a wait, she noted. The oncoming traffic was pretty thick, perhaps from the ramp onto the I-10 just up the road. Then she whirled toward the RV door again with horror as she heard the engine start up.
“Oh, no freaking way,” Mary muttered, and dragged the door open to rush in. She had just stepped off the automatically descending metal steps and onto the wooden ones inside when she was nearly knocked off her feet by Bailey as the shepherd raced past her to get inside first.
Grabbing for the counter on her left and the passenger seat on her right to steady herself, Mary scowled at the dog, who had settled in her customary position between the driver’s and passenger’s seats. The dumb dog didn’t seem to realize that the man at the wheel shouldn’t be there. In fact, Bailey was staring up at him with something like worship, her tail thumping the floor and tongue hanging out.