Quay hissed a fierce curse and snatched the card on his way out of the room.
Jazz could hear what sounded like a heavy fist being slammed against the elevator’s down button and decided it’d be best to take the next car down.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“She’s alright. She’s alright,” were the first words out of Quest’s mouth when Quay came bounding down the hospital corridor. “Listen to me, she’s fine,” he stressed, curving both hands over his brother’s shoulders as he tried to allay the man’s worst fears.
Quay’s smoldering stare was unwavering. “Who’s responsible?” he asked his twin.
Quest shrugged. “Most likely Ty herself is responsible.”
“What?” Quay breathed.
“She hasn’t been eating or resting,” Quest shared, releasing Quay’s shoulders and pushing both hands into his trouser pockets,” she lost her bearings while we were taking a side ladder up to the roof of one of the cars. She slipped and fell crazy on her ankle. Doctor says she broke it.”
“Dammit,” Quay cursed, though relief was washing through him at the same time. “Where is she? Can I see her?”
Quest nodded, pointing down the corridor. “Room five-o-eight.”
Quay removed his suitcoat while making his way toward the room. He applied a gentle knock to the partially opened door before stepping inside. His heart slammed fiercely inside his chest when he saw Ty. Lying prone in the bed, she looked beaten, drained like she hadn’t slept in weeks. Massaging the bridge of his nose, he cursed himself for being the cause of it.
Mick had been napping in a chair next to the bed, but looked up when she heard someone else in the room.
Quay’s dark eyes were fixed on the cast in a sling surrounding Tykira’s right foot.
“She broke it in the fall,” Mick supplied.
“Was it really an accident?” Quay still eyed the cast.
“Yeah sweetie, it was,” Mick knew what he meant. “She hasn’t been getting the rest she needs. The doctors say they’re more concerned by her fatigue than the ankle.”
Quay pushed one hand into his silver gray trousers. “How long does she have to stay here?”
“Not sure,” Mick massaged her arms as she yawned. “I know someone should be in soon who can tell you more.”
“Thanks Mick,” Quay tousled her curls when she walked by him. “I’m glad you were there,” he told her, smiling when she rubbed his back before leaving the room.
Settling to the edge of the bed, Quay took Ty’s hand and kept it pressed to his chest. He stroked her temple as he’d done earlier that day and thought how easily this could have been something else. When Jasmine told him Ty was hurt, he actually believed he’d lost her. Really lost her. Shaking his head to dismiss the thought, he leaned close and kissed her cheek.
Her lashes stirred a bit as she woke. “Quay,” she whispered.
He took comfort in the fact that she knew it was him and leaned close to kiss her again.
“What happened?” she grimaced at the scratchy feel of her throat.
“You need to rest, love,” he advised, trailing his finger along the arched line of her brow.
Emotion flickered on Ty’s gaze and she looked away. “I have work to do.”
“It can wait,” he countered, his voice firming then. “If need be, I’ll have the whole damn project postponed so you can get the rest you need. Even if you have to go back to Colorado to get it.”
Ty shuddered. “When I leave Seattle this time, I won’t be back,” she vowed weakly.
“Can I do anything? Call your mom?” he offered, not wanting to argue with her.
“No please,” she barely raised a hand, “I don’t need her worrying over me.”
Quay disagreed. Silently, he decided to contact Bobbie Lowery on his own.
Ty tried to push herself up in bed and gasped at the dull ache in the vicinity of her foot. Spotting the cast and sling, her mouth fell open and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before. “What happened?” she cried.
“You fell at the rail yard, honey. During the tour, do you remember?” He stroked her arm when she nodded slowly. “It’s your ankle. You broke it.”
“Nooo,” Ty groaned, falling back against the pillows. Obvious dismay clouded her face over the fact that she’d be bedridden or at the very least quite incapacitated for a time. “Now Mama will definitely come home to fuss over me. I won’t get a damn thing done,” she sighed, eyes narrowing as she contemplated her situation. “Maybe I can get one of the guys to stay with me.”
Not a chance in hell, Quay made another silent decision.
“Quay? Are you okay…” she asked, having caught the murderous expression that flashed across his face. Instinctively, she reached out to touch his face and cursed herself for even caring how he was. Especially when it’s my damn foot in a sling! She chastised.
“I just have a lot going on.” He said.
Something in his tone continued to concern her though. “Business?” she watched him shake his head no. Clearly, it was something he didn’t want to discuss. Thankfully, there was no time to rack her brain trying to figure out what was going on with him. The nurse had arrived.
“When can I leave?” Were Ty’s first words to the woman.
“Now, now Ms. Lowery, the doctors want you to focus on getting more rest. They’ll be in to speak with you shortly,” the matronly woman announced in soothing tones.
Ty was too unnerved to be soothed. “I can rest at home,” she pouted.
“And clearly you haven’t been,” the nurse challenged, offering Quay an adoring look when he chuckled at her words.
Tykira folded her arms across the front of the awkward hospital gown and remained quiet.
“When you are released, you’ll definitely need someone to look after you,” the nurse was saying as she fussed around the bed making sure the covers were tucked in. She then began to review Ty’s vitals on a chart.
“Tyke, I’m gonna head out,” Quay was saying then. He moved close to the bed and then leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back,” he whispered.
For a moment, Ty forgot about pouting. The look in her eyes softened as she watched him go.
“Ohhh boy,” the nurse sighed, her eyes also following Quay’s departure. “I wouldn’t mind being looked after if he applied for the job.”
***
“Detective Red,” Jill answered the call absently while rifling through paperwork at her cluttered desk.
“Miss Red, Sawyer Reynolds. Head caretaker and proprietor of Serenity Memorial Gardens.”
“Yes, Mr. Reynolds,” Jill greeted. Inwardly, she groaned at the sound of the man’s heavy southern drawl and the nasal tone of his voice. Clearly Mr. Sawyer Reynolds was accustomed to respect and reverence when he announced his lengthy title. “How are you?” she hoped to set an easy tone to the conversation.
“Not good. Not good one damn bit,” Sawyer shared, with no interest in pleasantries. “I got a order here for exhumation. Sera Black.”
“Yes Sir.”
“This is a scandalous thing you doin’ Missy. I don’t know how thangs go in Chicago but down here we don’t think it’s Christian-like to make people relive painful mem’ries.”
“I don’t’ think that way either, Sir,” Jill rubbed her tired eyes as she spoke.
“You coulda fooled me, young lady. Reopenin’ this case, diggin’ up that girl’s body. Just gone wound that family all over again.”
“And just for my own clarification, Mr. Reynolds would you be referring to Sera’s family or the Ramsey family?” Jill didn’t bother to hide her disdain.
“Now you listen here-”
“Mr. Reynolds, Sera’s mother wants this done. And that’s the only family I’m concerned with.”
“You dabblin’ with powerful people,” Sawyer Reynolds warned. “Don’t matter a bit if they colored or not.”
Jill rolled her eyes. “Mr. Reynolds this case is far from over and until i
t’s solved, I’m on it,” she vowed.
“Be careful young lady,” the man advised and then slammed down the phone.
Jill followed suit, looking across her shoulder when she heard Greg Youtz laughing in the distance.
“Told you so,” he reared back in his desk chair.
Jill turned, her dark eyes filled with a glare that removed the humor from Youtz’s red face. “If it hadn’t been for the Ramseys working to cover their asses, no one would’ve taken a second look at this case, but hiding evidence, payoffs- including one to the girl’s own mother have simply caused tensions and regrets to simmer. They’re about to boil over, Greg, with Sera Black’s murderer coming out in the run off and I’ll damn well be there to see it,” she swore and then shoved her chair away from her desk and stormed out of the crowded bullpen.
Greg’s expression held a trace of foreboding then. “Be careful, young lady,” he advised.
***
With the exhumation scheduled for the end of that week, Michaela was preparing for her trip to Georgia. She hoped to finish packing before her husband got home, knowing that her leaving had become a very sore spot between them. Unfortunately, Quest arrived early that evening. He was in time to not only find his wife packing, but also to see her stumble and lean over to brace her hands against the wall as though she were trying to regain her balance.
Mick was taking deep breaths, when she heard the slam of the bedroom door. She whirled around to find Quest shooting his hazy gray stare in her direction.
“Hey baby,” Mick greeted in a light breathless manner and cleared her throat to shield the shaky tone of her voice.
Quest didn’t buy it. “The trip’s out,” he tossed a quarter length black leather jacket to the bed.
“Excuse me?” Mick propped both hands to her hips when her husband took a seat on the bed and casually removed his shoes and socks before deigning to give her an answer.
“I’ve been watching you Mick,” he shared in a whimsical tone.
Her expression softened. “You’re always watching me,” she teased.
“Mmm,” Quest gestured, flashing her a look of acknowledgement. “Well then, it shouldn’t surprise you to hear me say that I’ve seen all your little stumbles during the last couple of weeks.”
Slowly, Mick’s teasing expression faded.
“You’ve been napping all times of day,” Quest went on, watching her walk over to the dresser and lean against it. “Thanks to this case, you’re not taking care of yourself and I’m sick of it.”
Mick shook her head, “Honey I swear that’s not it,” she hid her hands inside the front pocket on the petal pink hoody he wore, “everything with the case now is at a virtual standstill until Jill gets somewhere with the exhumation.”
“Which you won’t be attending.”
“Quest-”
“That’s it.”
“Quest, please don’t do this. Not now,” Mick extended her hands in a pleading gesture while walking towards him. “You know Johnelle needs me to be there.”
“And I need you to be here,” he countered, unbuttoning the black shirt he wore and leaving it to hang open outside his cream trousers. “I need you to be here long after this case is solved.”
Mick had no comeback. At last, she succumbed to the weariness she’d been battling. She trudged to the bed and took a seat near the suitcase she’d been packing. Idly, she toyed with the articles that lay inside. Quest closed the space between them and pulled her against his chest. Mick was happy to let herself be held.
***
“She’ll never go for it,” Bobbie Lowery predicted into the phone as she stood in the middle of her Baton Rouge, Louisiana hotel room.
From his end of the line, Quay smiled. “Considering how badly she wants to be home, I think she’ll consider just about any arrangement. But I need to know if you’ll be alright with it.”
Bobbie sighed. “No baby, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be.”
“Ms. Bobbie if-”
“Now wait and let me say this,” Bobbie sat on the window sill overlooking the busy, rain-slicked street below. “It’s not that I don’t think you could handle Ty as a patient, though you probably couldn’t,” she smiled before sobering. “Quaysar the truth is I’m sick of seeing my baby hurt and always upset over you., It’s been almost a constant in your lives since forever and now it’s so bad my Ty rarely comes home. In fact, aside from this project with the company, she never comes home.”
Quay heard the softness settling into Bobbie Lowery’s usually firm voice and knew her emotions were weighing in heavily. “Ms. Bobbie, I don’t know what to say except I’m sorry. I know what I did to Ty. I know I was wrong, but I had my reasons.”
“Which were?”
Quay didn’t want the woman any more upset. “I was wrong and I want to make things up to her more than anything. I want her in my life forever,” was all he chose to share.
“Quaysar-”
“I love her Ms. Bobbie. I always have and I’ll never stop.”
Lengthy silence covered the line while Bobbie contemplated on her end. “What do you need?” She finally asked.
Quay uttered a hushed prayer of thanks. “I only need you to take your time on this trip. I need to be alone with her.”
“Mmm hmm…don’t hurt my baby again Quaysar or you’ll be dealing with me and love, you know I’m nowhere near as syrupy sweet as my daughter.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Quay’s tone was reverent, he knew the woman’s word were no bluff.
***
Ty woke from another long nap and believed she was still dreaming when she found Quay’s face looming so closely to her own. She closed her eyes and opened them to see if the vision remained. It had. “What are you doing here,” she groaned.
Quay grinned. Every day the same question. She’d been in the hospital just over a week and he had made an appearance at her bedside each day. He knew she was curious and unnerved, but he had no intentions of letting her out of his sight for long. Ever again.
“Quay?” Ty probed, her doe eyes narrowing when he offered no response.
“How would you like to go home?” he asked.
Ty; who hated being cooped up in bed for any period of time, closed her eyes in a dreamy manner. She smiled, resting her head back against the pillows as though she were envisioning ‘home’ just then. “That is my greatest wish,” she sighed.
Quay chuckled, loving the way contentment added a different glow to her incredible features. “Well I’m here to grant that wish,” he announced.
“Huh?” Ty grunted, fixing him with a blank look.
“You’ll stay with me until we get the cast off.”
“No.”
“Yes. Ms. Bobbie already said it was alright.”
“What? You talked to her?” Ty watched him nod. “What did she say?” she listened closely as Quay told her. Ty felt her mouth hanging open by the time he was done. Minutes later, she was shaking her head. “Quay…I can’t.”
“Yes you can.”
“No…the guys- the guys can take care of me.”
Quay chuckled and leaned back in the chair next to the bed “With you out of commission, they’re gonna be swamped with work. They can’t focus on that and worry over you at the same time.”
Ty settled back. “You’re right,” she whispered, tapping her fingers to her chin. “I could get a nurse.”
“Already taken care of,” Quay stood from the chair and moved to sit on the side of the bed “I want to be there too,” he said.
“Why would you do this?” Ty dismissed the voice that called her a fool for asking.
“You need someone to look after you,” he trailed his fingers along her bare forearm.
Ty grimaced and folded her arms across her chest. “The truth Quay. Just the truth.”
“I feel better seeing with my own eyes that you’re safe.”
Ty blinked. “Does this have something to do with Wake?”
Quay’s long lashes shie
lded his onyx stare from view when he looked down to inspect a button on his caramel-colored suitcoat.
“Quay.”
“I don’t want you scared Tyke.”
“I’m not,” her response was firm as genuine courage filtered her gaze. “Besides Wake hardly knew me and thanks to you he never suspected we had anything between us- for the brief time that there was an us. Unless…you told him,” she subtly inquired, wondering if he’d ever admitted his feelings about her to anyone.
Quay shook his head. “I didn’t.”
Ty inhaled, refusing to admit how much the confession disappointed her. “Then, there’s no need for you to put your life on hold for me,” she decided only pretending to be cool just then.
Averting his gaze, Quay forced himself not to admit how much he wanted and needed to be around her. “Humor me, please Tyke,” he asked instead.
Ty curved her hands into fists beneath the standard coverings on the bed. She knew that once again Quay Ramsey had her right where he wanted her and she knew that she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
“Who’s ready to be released?!” Doctor Jonas Orvin asked upon walking into the lamp-lit hospital room.
Ty’s expression brightened immediately. “I’m more than ready! Please tell me something good.”
Dr. Orvin chuckled. “Well your vitals are far better than when you first came to us,” he perused the chart he held before his round olive-toned face. “We still want you to adhere to strict bed rest though. We anticipate the cast being on anywhere from four to six weeks.”
Nodding, Ty expelled a deep breath. Thankfully, it appeared that she’d be on her feet before the rail was finished for the trip to Banff.
“Now, about this cast,” Dr. Orvin went on, placing his hand across the bulky creation. “I caution you against using a hanger to get to an itch, use a cool blow dryer instead. You should also practice keeping it elevated and use an Emory board instead of scissors to trim any rough edges that may form at the heel or anywhere else. I’ve got a packet here that’ll go into more detail about everything I’m telling you.”
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