Clearwater Journals

What's going on?

What's going on?

Before I drove away from Mia's apartment in the Jag, I checked Bullock's Navigator parked in front of the apartment. The keys were hanging in the ignition. I wondered if the cops or the bangers would get to it first. Then I felt a heavy weariness settle upon me. Cooper had done his job. I could hear the distant wail of the cruiser sirens heading my way. Just to make certain, I phoned Cooper again. I told him where I'd left Ted and Eliza. The only thing I wanted now was to get to Tampa General and see Mia one more time.

I didn't know how long I had before they would come for me, but I knew it would happen. I got to the hospital as quickly as I could. I moved a visitor's chair over beside Mia and took her left hand gently. I left my backpack on the floor beside me. She was resting uneasily. I didn't want to wake her. I sat there quietly watching her. She had survived the attack, but would she ever be able to enjoy a real life again? Her doctors weren't making any rosy promises. I guessed that, as my grandmother had said often enough, "time will tell". "Will" implied the future. I wondered if I would be around to find out.

I had turned on the Blackberry when I finished at Mia's place. It rang quietly and vibrated in my pocket. I fished it out.

"Hi Frank-how they hangin'?"

Through the next ten minutes I gave him a fast update. He told me he would get a top lawyer to me as fast as he could.

"Doc-listen to me. Do not-I repeat-do not say anything-a single word-to the cops until you have the lawyer I get you. Understand Doc?"

"Yeah-Frank-Thanks ..."

The day drifted by slowly. I faded in and out of sleep with the arrival and departure of the different nurses and Mia's short periods of awareness. During the early afternoon, I got another call on the Blackberry. It was the lawyer Frank found for me. His name was Bob Morse. I brought him up to date on what had happened and the fact that I was still free. He wanted to meet with me so that we could go to Kemp together. "It will work out better if you turn yourself in, but let me get hold of them. I'll get back to you."

As I ate dinner beside Mia's bed, there was still no sign of Kemp or Cooper-or S.W.A.T. and Bob Morse had not got back to me. Frank had called again to tell me that early yesterday, he had sent legal papers I needed to sign and return to him. He then told me to hang in there-Frank's idea of a pep talk-and then to inform me that Max was alright-a broken collarbone."

Just after eight o'clock, a candy striper gently shook my shoulder and told me that the visiting hours were over. I reluctantly said goodbye to Mia, but she didn't hear me. I left Tampa General Hospital wondering if the cops were waiting for me at my room on the beach. I drove to Mrs. Reilly's home and surveyed the damage Terry Bullock, the police and I had done to it. I didn't know if I'd have to explain the bullet holes to my absent landlord. I made a note to contact the guy who did the minor repairs for the condo residents. As well as I could, I cleaned up the blood Terry had leaked onto my floor. The slugs had already been dug out of the walls and my bookcase. I knew I couldn't sleep there-not without Mia.

I drove over to the Holiday Inn. I registered using my own name and rode the elevator to a street side room. I briefly thought about calling Frank. I decided not and turned the Blackberry off. I then wondered how Max was doing, but I wasn't going to worry about that now. I slept fitfully.