Something Like Spring (54 page)

Motion farther away in the yard caught Jason’s attention—a person creeping around—causing him to yelp.

“It’s okay,” Flynn said, returning. “It’s just one of my colleagues securing the area.”

The officer stepped outside to fetch Chinchilla before she noticed this other person, Flynn holding on to the leash when he returned inside with her.

“She looks fine,” the officer said. “Just a little shaken up.”

“Ryan fired at her,” Jason said. “He was trying to sneak in through the back, Chinchilla started barking, and then we heard a gunshot.”

Flynn nodded encouragingly, lifting the digital recorder again. “Then what happened? Tell me everything.”

The facts became Jason’s top priority. Whatever was happening inside the ambulance, whatever happened at the hospital, all of it was outside his control. Nothing Jason could say or do would change a thing. But he could ensure that the police had all the evidence they needed to bring Ryan to justice.

Jason began rambling, Flynn interrupting with the occasional question. The officer even returned to the kitchen doorway, eyes searching the scene for anything important, any little piece of information that was missing. While it was clear from his lack of abhorrence that Flynn had seen worse, he seemed eager to do his job and do it right. Jason felt thankful for that, trying his best to put his fear aside and be helpful. He allowed himself to be photographed, only second-guessing the police when they wanted his bloody clothing.

“As evidence,” Flynn explained.

“But this is Tim’s blood, not Ryan’s,” Jason said.

Flynn nodded his understanding. “Yes, but when this Ryan person is in court and starts lying, you’ll want every shred of truth possible backing you up.”

“Okay,” Jason said, already stripping off his shirt, “but that’s it. I need to get to the hospital now and—”

“You need to get yourself cleaned up or you’re liable to scare someone,” Flynn said.

“Fine.” Jason took one step toward the stairs and froze.

“The entire house has been searched,” Flynn told him.

“Okay.” Jason didn’t move. What if the police had missed something? What if Ryan was hiding up there, maybe in the attic, crouching behind the smiling portrait of himself. Nowhere seemed safe anymore. He turned back to Flynn and swallowed. “Do you think you could come with me? Just in case.”

The officer glanced up at him, seemingly unsurprised by the request, and nodded. How often did he see this? Every day? Were people in various states of shock and terror so often? The world normally seemed so sane, but this wasn’t the first time someone had been attacked in their own home. Not by far. Jason felt like he’d gone through life in blissful ignorance up to this point, believing such violence an invention of television to get viewers watching through the commercial breaks.

Flynn escorted him to the upstairs bathroom, giving Jason plastic bags to put his stained clothing in. He allowed Jason to take Chinchilla into the bathroom with him before the door was closed, Jason washing his hands off in the sink before looking up to see a thick smudge of blood on his cheek. He required more than just a quick rinsing of the hands. This time Caesar wasn’t there to lovingly dab at his face with a washcloth, but at least Jason wasn’t alone. He looked down at Chinchilla who continued to whine.

“I know,” Jason said. “I’m worried too. I’ll hurry. Just a quick shower, and I’ll take you to see Tim. I promise. ”

* * * * *

When Jason was clean and the police were finished questioning him, he loaded Chinchilla into his car. A rushed shower and fresh clothes did little to make him feel better. His pulse was still racing too fast, matched by the frantic fear coursing through his system. Jason felt paranoid as he drove, almost expecting Ryan to leap into the street and clamber over his windshield like something out of a horror movie. Chinchilla wasn’t faring much better. She kept climbing over the center console to lick Jason’s face, still whimpering and whining.

As they reached civilization, Jason obsessed over what had happened in his absence. Had Tim made it to the hospital, or had he… So much blood had been lost. On the long drive into Austin, despite the best efforts of the paramedics, maybe he had… Jason shook his head and tried to imagine his home, the perfect paradise he’d been invited into, without Tim. Doing so was impossible. That happy place would be ruined forever. The sun would never shine again.

As they neared the hospital, Jason tried to picture what he’d find when he entered the emergency room. Ben wailing in uncontrolled grief, the staff trying to subdue him? Or maybe he would just be sitting there motionless and pale, the shock making him numb. Each of these visions tore at Jason’s heart. No matter what happened, he didn’t want Ben to be alone.

Finally having reached their destination, Jason parked hastily. He whispered a quick apology to Chinchilla that he had to leave her behind before sprinting across the parking lot to the emergency room entrance. He found Ben sitting there pale and wide-eyed, just as Jason had feared, but at least he wasn’t alone. Allison, an attractive black woman and Ben’s best friend, had one arm wrapped protectively around him. Jason felt somewhat relieved, because he knew she would take care of him, even glare at anyone who dared look in Ben’s direction. Literally, because she did exactly that before she recognized Jason and opened her other arm to him.

Before he went to her, before he accepted any sort of comfort, he had to know. “Tim?” It was all Jason managed to say, but he was instantly understood. And answered.

“They’re operating on him now,” Allison said. “The bullet nipped an artery, which they’re trying to repair.”

Jason nearly cried out in relief, because at least there was hope. Tim was still a part of this world, so everything wasn’t over. Not quite yet. He hugged Allison when she stood, then grabbed hold of Ben. They clutched at each other, Ben crying and mumbling incoherent words.

Ben was wearing hospital scrubs, his hands washed clean, like he intended to perform the surgery himself. Luckily, Officer Flynn had prepared Jason for this, suggesting he bring along a change of clothes for Ben and anything he’d need for an overnight stay. When this was all over, and if Jason was still sane, he planned on sending that man a ridiculously huge basket of fruit.

“You’re okay?” Ben kept asking. “You didn’t get hurt?”

Jason had to reassure him over and over before he would let go again. When Allison made them all sit, Jason made sure Ben was in the middle, still feeling the need to keep him safe.

“The police left just before you got here,” Allison said, “but they didn’t have any news. Did they catch Ryan?”

“I don’t know,” Jason said. “I don’t think so. They found a bloody handprint on the fence gate, so there’s evidence. The whole house is a crime scene. I don’t think any of us should go back there. Not alone.”

“Chinchilla?” Ben asked, already braced for bad news.

“She’s fine.” Jason said. “She’s in the car, but it’s hot out there.”

“You can take her to my place,” Allison said. “I can clear out the office tonight, make it into a spare bedroom again.”

Jason shook his head. “We’ll stay at Marcello’s house. He has plenty of guest rooms and the best security money can buy.”

Ben nodded his agreement, his hands shaking, even though they were resting in his lap. “Maybe you should go there now. I want you to be safe.”

“We’re perfectly safe right here,” Jason said, settling back, but he kept his eyes on the emergency room door. The rules of the game had changed. If they could be sitting at the kitchen table and be attacked, then surely nowhere was safe. Not completely. Jason kept clenching his jaw and shaking his head. None of this made sense. They hadn’t done anything to deserve this.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to a news reporter rattle off other tragedies in the world, all of them bigger than their own. He wondered if emergency rooms did this on purpose.
Keep calm. At least you don’t live in a war zone.
Except now Jason felt as if he did.

“Seeing him lying there on the kitchen floor,” Ben spluttered, “waiting for the paramedics to show up again…”

Allison hugged Ben tight, kissing his hair and murmuring comforting words. Her affection for him made Jason think of Emma, even though she’d be more likely to slug his arm and tell him to get over it. She’d want to know about this. Jason pulled out his phone to text her, but it was all too complex for one hundred and sixty characters. He excused himself, stepped outside, and called.

Emma had barely said hello before it all came pouring out. Halfway through the story, Jason started crying, and he was glad Ben couldn’t see because he wanted to be strong for him. After he was done talking to Emma, he checked on Chinchilla and brought the clothes and toiletries he’d collected for Ben back to the emergency room. There still wasn’t any news on Tim, and after sitting there another half hour, he decided he needed to take Chinchilla somewhere cool.

“Call me,” Jason said. “The second anything happens, call me.”

Allison promised she would. When he returned to the car, Chinchilla was desperate to see him. Jason wondered if she could sense that something was wrong. Maybe Tim wasn’t doing so well. That idea alone nudged Jason’s fear toward a different emotion. He hoped Ryan was lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding to death.

This anger was shared by Marcello as Jason sat in his living room and explained everything. Marcello was normally so chipper, like a big happy hippo without a care in the world. Now his face was grim and dark. He barraged Jason with questions, becoming more furious with each answer. When he was finally satisfied, he looked like the devil incarnate, eager to claim a soul.

Marcello swept from the room without a word, leaving Jason sitting alone. He was happy for the silence, petting Chinchilla as she tried to settle down next to him. Eventually she did. Jason hoped this was a good sign, that she knew somehow that everything was going to be okay.

When Marcello returned, he was somewhat calmer, although still nowhere near his usual jovial self. “I’ve made some calls,” he said, pacing the room. “Ryan was picked up by the police half an hour ago. I don’t know the details yet, but they don’t matter. Ryan is going away to prison, where I imagine he’ll be very popular with the other inmates, whether he likes it or not.”

“He’s really going to prison?” Jason asked. “Doesn’t there have to be a trial or—”

“There will be,” Marcello said, sweeping around, “and I’ll have every goddamned lawyer in the state prosecuting his pathetic ass! Not that it will be necessary because I’ll make sure the right judge is on the case. One in particular regularly attends my fundraisers, and he’s always been fond of Tim. Rest assured, Ryan
will
go to prison, and I daresay the little bastard won’t survive the experience.”

For a moment, Jason wondered if Marcello was powerful enough to have Ryan killed, but hopefully he only meant that Ryan would meet some random misfortune while behind bars. He sat in silence as Marcello continued to rant, happy for an excuse to look away when his phone chimed. A text message. Jason read it, and for the first time since everything happened, he felt hopeful.

“It’s Allison. She says they’ve got Tim stabilized. Do you think that means he’s okay?”

“I don’t know.” Marcello took a deep shuddering breath and exhaled again. “Well then, let’s go see him, shall we?”

* * * * *

Ben was no longer in the waiting room when they arrived, having gone to Tim’s bedside. Only one person was allowed to visit at a time, and even Marcello’s influence couldn’t budge the stubborn nurses. Eventually, their little group grew in number when Emma showed up with her parents. Greg took turns bear-hugging them all, one by one, even Marcello, who he didn’t seem to know. Michelle held Jason. He supposed it might have resembled a hug from the outside, but she placed her arms around him so gently, like he was fragile and she was afraid of breaking him. Ben’s parents arrived next, a laid-back couple who Jason had met on many occasions. Not too long after them, a stern-faced, white-haired man showed up with a beautiful Hispanic woman clinging to his arm. From the desperate fear in her eyes, she had to be Tim’s mother. Allison seemed best equipped to deal with them, taking the couple aside for a hushed conversation, but soon Mrs. Wyman was among them, clutching their hands.

“So many people are here for my baby,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “So many friends.”

When Ben returned to the emergency room seating area, that was what he found waiting for him. So much family. So many friends. He nodded at them and managed a smile.

Tim was going to be all right.

* * * * *

Another day passed before Jason was permitted to see Tim. With only one visitor allowed at a time, Ben monopolized this privilege by spending the night at the hospital. He was the only person aside from Allison not to roost at Marcello’s house that night. The Bentleys—and especially the Wymans—might have preferred to get a hotel room, but Marcello was insistent. Emma was thrilled by it all, but everyone else had to slowly get comfortable around each other. By breakfast the next day, the place was starting to feel like a resort full of the glummest tourists ever.

The Wymans left first to see their son. An hour later, everyone else gathered at the hospital to take their turn. Marcello asked Jason for permission to go next, which he could hardly deny. Then Emma did the same. Afterwards it seemed only natural to allow Michelle and Greg go next. Jason waited not-so-patiently through all of this, desperate by the time he was finally allowed to enter Tim’s room.

After some wandering down hospital corridors and glancing into many bleak rooms, Jason finally saw Tim sitting up with a bandage wrapped over his shoulder and under his armpit. He was staring off into space when Jason knocked. Then Tim looked apprehensive. At first, anyway.

“Oh good, it’s you,” Tim said. “I thought Greg was coming back for another hug. They practically had to rush me back into surgery.”

“For real?” Jason asked, moving to the chair by the bed.