Hannah Alexander - A Killing Frost

But if she didn’t go in, that would mean she’d wasted all this time. She’d begged Mom and Dad for that GPS navigational program on her new phone last year, and now she could use it as she never imagined. She had to get out of here, wherever she was, and lead the police to the killers.

It’d be easy to find the Katy Trail or the river or the road if she could only get to that phone!

This whole waiting game was worse than boring. It was deadly. What if she fell asleep? She’d hardly slept at all last night. What if she snored? Clancy and Deb could be all over her.

That was the way the undercover detective said it happened. If he slipped for just one minute, he could lose his case, lose his client, be out of a job.

She couldn’t help wondering what that detective would do if he were here now. Of course, being a big, tough man with a gun, he wouldn’t be hiding here, he’d be charging into the barn with that gun drawn.

Doriann wished she was armed. But Grandma always told her prayer worked better than any man-made weapon. Aunt Renee always prayed for a “hedge of angels to surround us in our time of need,” whatever that meant. Doriann had heard of hedge trees and trimming hedge bushes, but she couldn’t imagine angel hedges. She’d sure love to be surrounded by angels right now, though.

Maybe she was.

And yet, she was getting tired of waiting. And she didn’t have the patience of the private eye. She itched in places she couldn’t scratch, even more than usual. Her eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. She could use a nap, which was crazy.

Still, she closed her eyes for just a moment.

She was feeling herself relax when a sharp cackle startled her. She jerked her head upright, realizing she’d fallen asleep enough to drool down the side of her face.

“Guess what I just realized,” Clancy exclaimed. “I’ve still got the kid’s phone.”

“So?”

“Her cell phone.”

Deb groaned. “What good’s that gonna do us?”

“You got a cell phone with power left in it? Mine went down with the truck. We could call anybody we wanted to with this, anywhere in the world, and it’d be free.”

“Who’s there to call?” Deb asked.

“Your contacts in St. Louis, for one. Let ’em know we’ll be there as soon as we can rustle up another car, and we’ll be needing some stuff to cook.”

“Wow, what a great idea.” Deb spoke as if she thought that was anything but a good idea. “If I had their numbers, we’d be all set. Think you can find my contact numbers on a kid’s cell phone?”

Clancy didn’t reply, but he chuckled a moment later. “Oh, man, would you look at this? She took pictures. Gotta be family. There’s this old couple, and a big honkin’ guy with black hair, and then here’s this dog. Hey, doesn’t this look like that dog we saw on the road? The one I would’ve bagged if the brat hadn’t kicked my leg.”

“The one that almost got us killed,” Deb said.

Doriann remembered the day she went around River Dance taking pictures with her new cell phone. She loved what Grandpa called her “gadgets.”

“Stop that, will you?” Deb complained. “You’re going to run the battery down. Then who’re you gonna call?”

“Doesn’t sound like we’ve got anybody to call,” he grumbled, then as Doriann peered through a crack in the side of the barn, he tossed the phone aside, into the hay he’d called “stinking.”

“Say.” He straightened. “That did look like the hound we saw on the road. That thing had one red ear and one white, just like the one in these pictures.” He reached once more for the cell phone.

“Would you leave that thing alone! We may need it and won’t have the power.”

“Yeah? And I told you when we first started this trip that I’m the one in charge. Keep your ideas to yourself.”

Deb turned over onto her side away from Clancy. “Whatever.”

Doriann could have pounded her head on the ground in frustration.

Zelda assisted while Jama sutured Scott Hammersmith’s wrist. It was a bad cut, needing a two-layer closure, but it came together nicely, and there was no muscle involvement. Jama was relieved. Scott’s whole life consisted of fishing and hunting.

“Scotty, honey, you don’t know how lucky you are today.” Zelda watched Jama’s work with obvious admiration. “What you’ve got here is a family-practice doc who’s got the skills of a surgeon. She knows just where to place the sutures so-”

“Uh, don’t do that.” Scott’s face was still nearly as pale as the towels draped over his arm. “Would you please not give me a play-by-play, Zelda? If I pass out in here, the guys’ll never let me forget it.”

“You’re doing fine,” Jama assured him. “And even if you did pass out, we’d never tell a soul.”

Scott switched his attention from the far corner of the room to Jama’s face, clearly not wanting to observe the action. “You’re as pretty as ever, Jama Sue.”

“Now, Scott, no flirting with the doc,” Zelda said. “You’re a married man now. Besides, you don’t want to distract her from her work.”

“I’m not flirting, I’m just saying…well…anyway.” Some color returned to his face.

“You know what, Dr. Keith,” Zelda said, “I might’ve been a little hasty turning down Dr. Ruth’s offer this morning.”

Jama completed her final suture and took a second to study her handiwork. The scarring would be minimal. Then Zelda’s words registered.

“Don’t call her Dr. Ruth to her face. And are you saying what I think you are?”

“I might talk to her about a part-time job.”

Jama and Scott exchanged a look. “Part-time?” Jama asked.

“Well, it’s not like this place will be overcrowded in the first couple of weeks, is it?”

“You never know. Judging by the amount of traffic we’ve had so far, we could have our schedule packed.”

“Still, it wouldn’t hurt me to try it on for size,” Zelda said. “It’s awfully good to be able to work with you again, see how far you’ve come. Besides, I’ve got these new, high-tech shoes that make me feel like I’m walking on clouds, so it’s not like I’ll have too much trouble standing on my feet all day. I could try it for a while.”

Jama felt some of the load slip from her shoulders. She met Zelda’s gaze and nodded.

Jama sent Scott out with scripts for an antibiotic and pain meds, with instructions to return. She watched with relief as he and his friends said goodbye and trooped out the front door, trailing the faint scent of smoke behind them.

She turned to find her director standing with arms crossed, leaning against the threshold of the reception office.

“He needed an appointment,” Ruth said.

“He can call when we have the office set up to schedule appointments.”

“You could have made one for him and entered it into the computer later, once you’ve figured out how to do it. And he needed printed instructions about wound care, and a doctor’s pass for work.”

Jama ran her tongue along her teeth before speaking. “A doctor’s pass? There was a fire. You think his employer doesn’t know what happened? This is River Dance. Everybody in the Missouri River Valley probably knows about it by now. Everyone also should know we’re not set up for clinic hours yet.”

“Keep it in mind for future reference,” Ruth said as she walked toward her office.

Jama was still frowning as she entered the suture room to find Zelda wiping down the tray table.

“You heard?” Jama asked.

Zelda nodded. “It’ll be okay.”

“She intimidates me,” Jama said.

“Maybe you should take a look at her from my end of the life cycle. She’s not so intimidating then. She’s a young woman, probably in her late thirties, if that, and she’s overwhelmed. Probably never directed a clinic before, never had this much responsibility.”