Just a Memory (41 page)

He was making the nurses' collective lives miserable. He wouldn't take any medication unless he knew what it was, and when he learned which ones were keeping him drowsy, he refused to take them even though it meant feeling more pain. As soon as he started feeling better, he wouldn't stay in bed. That was when the nurses lost all hope of keeping him manageable.

"Give me the good old days when he was unconscious and we could actually get our work done," the floor nurse said.

During those early days of his hospital stay, Mac had been unconscious while his body fought the raging infection in his wounds, the loss of blood, the dehydration, and mild concussion. In his extremely weakened condition at the cabin, he'd wrung out the last bit of his energy to escape the loosened handcuff and run before Harry got back.

From the moment he saw the blinding headlights, he was thrown into a black abyss. Flown to a trauma center, expert surgeons spliced his shoulder back together a second time, repaired the torn muscles and ligaments, and sewed up the holes in his arm. Antibiotics, fluids, and nourishment flowed into his veins through tubes from the clear bags hanging over his hospital bed. Oxygen rich air blew into his lungs through tubes leading into his nostrils. Beeping machines monitored his heart, blood pressure, and lungs.

The morning Mac's eyes opened, he realized the blinding headlight that was the last thing he remembered hadn't been Harry's. By the time he knew he was going to recover, the only other news he wanted to hear was about Carolyn. How was she? Where was she? And when could he see her?

He just got blank stares from the nurses and statements like, "I don't know anyone by that name. There was no one by that name with you when they brought you in."

When he wouldn't put up with that line any more, they changed their answers to little pep talks. "There'll be plenty of time for talking about that later."

Mac wanted to know now.
Right now.
When he tried to get up to find a phone to call Carolyn, the nurses doubled the amount of tape holding his arm immobile against his side and injected him with something that put him to sleep for hours more.

"I've got to find out about Carolyn!" Mac shouted. No one was there to hear. The nurses only came in now when they absolutely had to. There was nothing he could do and Mac hated being in that position.

Finally resigned to the fact he had to get well and get out of there to discover how Carolyn was first hand, he slept the next few days away. Sleep was a great healer; however every time he woke, he got even more frustrated.

All the while, from the first day he could talk about what happened, the investigative system in the state swung into full-function mode. A new series of visitors came to see him each day, all strangers. FBI agents, cops and attorneys came with thousands of questions to ask him.

The investigators who interviewed him first told him he couldn't have any visitors because his location was secret for the sake of security. He couldn't call anyone for the same reason. Mac didn't like the idea but at least now he understood. Far be it from him not to want to be safe, at least until he was strong and well again.

But Carolyn? He asked each one how she was. Finally someone reluctantly said she was going to be fine. He didn't know the details, but Mac should not worry. Mac didn't know the guy who told him and couldn't decide if he was telling the truth about her or not. The guy wouldn't say any more.

"No one may know where you are, Mac," the guy said. "You stay put and concentrate on getting better. Until you're well enough to move to a safe place during the trials, you'll stay here where the doctors can keep an eye on you."

Mac knew the system. He knew that safe place didn't include Carolyn or Hines being anywhere near him, or anyone else who could be traced to Mac's location. They couldn't see him, but Mac wasn't left with no one to talk to–as long as he talked about who killed his partner and what happened in the cabin after he woke up.

At first it was all a part of building the case against Brown Eyes Morris. The FBI was in on it because what Mac knew was just one piece of a big rotten cake. There was a lot more to the case than the one incident with Morris.

The interviews in the hospital room went on and on through December while Mac's rebuilt shoulder blade mended to the extent that he could move his arm and begin to rebuild the muscles there. He had a regimen of exercises from his physical therapist that would gradually increase the mobility of the joint.

His body was stiff and weak from spending so much time in bed. He had lost weight, much of it muscle, but he never lost his desire to get out and see Carolyn.

Damn, he would be glad when he was well enough to leave the hospital, but he would still cooperate with the investigation all the way. It would certainly mean more than one trial. No matter what happened, he hadn't lost the personal dedication and resolve he'd always had.

Mac would show everyone his dad was right: One person
can
make a difference.

When this was over, he could go home. The thought of his home on the lake made him feel warm. After all that had happened, his existence could be different from before. He didn't merely accept the possibility of change–he welcomed it.

Carolyn had saved his life twice, once by running for help after he was shot, and earlier just by being there, by being a part of his life. Now he just wanted to be close to her again…
real
close.

Mac's hospital room door opened without a knock and Hines walked in. "God, it's about time!" Surprised and pleased to see his friend for the first time since he'd been shot, Mac's grin felt like it was ear to ear. "Where have you been? What the hell is going on? When can I get out? What's happened to Carolyn? Is she all right?" Mac flooded him with questions before Hines could say a word.

"I haven't seen you since you were shot and
this
is the kind of greeting I get?" Hines asked when he finally got a word in. "I pull the man's butt out of the snow and he
yells
at me? I take excellent care of his job while he's vacationing in this resort with all those cute women in white to tend to him and he isn't even interested in knowing how
I'm
doing?"

"And a hearty Happy New Year to you!" Mac grumbled amiably.

"You too, man." Hines laughed easily while he pulled the room's only small chair closer to Mac's bed and reversed its direction. "So how have you been? Did you miss me?" He tossed a brown paper bag he was carrying onto the foot of the bed and plopped down, leaning both his arms on the back of the chair. "God, it's good to see you put back into one piece, man. You had me worried there for a minute or two."

"Okay, okay. I get it. Hello, Hines. It's good to see you too. Thank you for coming. I'd shake your hand but my shoulder would hurt like hell. What's with the small talk? You wearing a wire put on you by the etiquette police?" Mac paused to glare at Hines.

"Hell, I tell the man he looks good when the last time I saw him I thought he looked dead, and the man gets upset.
Mm-mmm!
The things I put up with being friends with you," Hines joked.

Mac had to laugh and then so did Hines. "Now then," Mac resumed with a much more civil tongue than before, "when the
hell
can I get out of this torture chamber? I'll thank you for what you did when I'm riding in a car that's driving me
away
from here."

"Now what could have put you in such a mood? The nurses looked pretty cute to me." With comic narcissism, Hines smoothed his hair at his temples and loudly kissed the air. "Yes,
sir
. Pretty cute!"

Mac just looked at him for a long moment. "Are you finished with the fun and games now? Tell me what's going on."

Hines exhaled heavily. "Okay, okay. I've got good news and I've got bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Carolyn," Mac said through gritted teeth. "Just tell me how Carolyn is."

"Good news or bad news. Take your pick." Hines wasn't budging.

"
Arrgh
!" Mac groaned, clenching his fists. He leaned back against his pillow, defeated. "Okay, Hines, I'll play your little game. Hell, you get me out of here and I'll play any game you want."

"You're so agreeable, man. I'll have to call in the nurses so they can see you really
do
have a sweet side. They tell me you've been…" He hesitated, searching for the right word. "…an
annoyance
to them."

"Don't get me started on those nurses. I know they've got a job to do, but a man can only take so much. Do you know they deliberately wash their hands in ice water before they come to change the bandages? And the baths they give? Hell, I'd rather go dirty." They both laughed. "All right," Mac said, his voice sobering, "give me the bad news."

"The bad news is you've got to stay in protective custody until after the trials. You know what some cops think of one cop who turns another cop in." He held up his hand to stop Mac's objections before they started. "Don't tell me what you think of that, man. I already know. And I know
you
know it's necessary to go into protective custody."

Mac nodded. "So what's the good news?"

"The good news, my man, is that you can get out of here today if–"

Mac cut him off with a hoot for joy.

"Wait a minute, man. I said
if
. And it's a
big if
. You have to go where I take you. You have to stay put–I mean completely out of sight for at least thirty-six hours–until the day after tomorrow. No variations from the plan in the works. Then we have to move you again to a deeper cover. Top priority is to keep you safe. If we lose you, we lose a lot of what we have against these guys."

"Yeah." Mac nodded. He wanted more news. He'd heard all about the case against Bob Morris and the others ad nauseam. He knew now what happened the night Hines found him on the snow-covered road. He wanted to know how Carolyn was. "Is that all your news?"

"Well, the VanVleets are enjoying seeing their names in the paper. They're town heroes for driving their big tractor to get Carolyn to a phone that worked. That must be what 'gray power' is all about." Hines's face dropped the smile as he looked up at Mac. "They saved her life. And she saved yours."

Mac ran a hand through his hair. When he'd looked at his hair in the little mirror over the bathroom lavatory that morning, he thought it looked grayer than before this all began. Maybe it was, but he was sure it would be even grayer before Hines got to the point of telling him how Carolyn was.

"Enough already!" Mac shouted, and then he spoke so quietly that Hines looked up. "How is Carolyn?"

Hines studied his friend's face. "She's fine, Mac. You know I wouldn't make you wait if the news was anything other than good."

Mac nodded. "And?"

"Home from the hospital. She doesn't have the old glow back yet. She had pneumonia, and she was pretty banged up, but she wasn't cold enough long enough to get frostbite." He paused and struggled to go on. He dropped his gaze to his arms crossed on the chair. "Mac… Oh, hell! Mac, they wouldn't let me tell her you were alive."

Mac panicked at the frown on his friend's face. "What do you mean?"

"I hated it, man. Honest to God, I hated it, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't…" Hines stopped again and inhaled deeply. He raised his gaze to meet Mac's. "All the newspapers reported you died."

"
What?
" Mac sat up in bed and swung his feet over the edge. He ignored the lightheadedness he felt from moving so quickly and stared at his friend. The man who
had
been his friend.

"It was the only way to keep you alive. This whole illegal setup within the force stinks a lot more than we thought. Once we started peeling away at it, we knew it was essential to keep you safe." Hines sighed. "A need-to-know basis. You know how that works. Hell, Mac…Carolyn thinks you're dead."

Mac lunged at Hines. He'd just grabbed his shirtfront with his good hand when the dizziness overwhelmed him. Instead of shaking Hines within an inch of his life, Mac clung to him for support.