Nora Roberts - High Noon

Once she'd arranged for the police artist and Maggie's transportation, Phoebe rode up to the surgical waiting area with Duncan. "There were no new carriers on that route today," she told him. "And no deliveries on that block until after two this afternoon. She saw him, she spoke to him. But he wasn't worried about that."

"A guy can grow a beard or shave it off." Thoughtfully, Duncan rubbed his own chin. "Changes his look."

"We've got a good artist. He'll reconstruct both ways. He had to know we'd get a witness. If not Maggie, someone else on the block could easily have seen him. He's smart enough to know that, but he's not that worried about it."

She walked straight to the nurses' station when she got off the elevator. She showed her badge. "I need to know if there's any word on Captain David McVee."

"He's still in surgery."

"I need someone to go in and check, to give me his status. Please."

"I'll see what I can do. If you'd go into the waiting area, we'll let you know."

There were half a dozen cops she recognized already in the waiting area. She made the rounds quickly, then positioned herself in a corner where she could see the door. "I need to make calls," she told Duncan. "You want coffee? You didn't drink any downstairs. I'd ask you if you want some food, but you're going to say no, so I won't."

"I could use a cold drink. Apparently being scared makes everything hot inside me. I could use something cold. And, Duncan," she said before he stepped away. "When I can think straight again, there are a whole bunch of things I have to say to you."

"Would that include any comments or complaints about me not falling in line when so ordered?"

She worked up a smile, widened her eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Good." He touched her lips with his. "Then I'd like to hear them. Be right back."

She had to call Sykes first and arrange for the canvass of Dave's neighborhood to add in the fake UPS deliveryman. She wanted, badly, to talk with the bomb squad and crime-scene supervisors herself, and had to remind herself she'd sent Sykes for a reason.

And since she couldn't will a nurse or doctor to come in and tell her everything was going to be just fine, she steadied herself, pulled out every ounce of optimism and made the next call.

"Ava."

"God. Phoebe. Is he-"

"Dave's in surgery, and from everything I know it's going well."

"Surgery! Oh my God, what happened? How did it happen?"

"I can't get into that now, but I want you to know, and to tell everyone, he's being taken care of."

"I want to come down there. I want to see for myself. Carter, we had an awful fight about it. Phoebe, you can't expect me to stay here while Dave's hurt."

"I have to expect it. I'm sorry. He'd expect it, too. He'd insist on it. Ava, I promise you, I promise you, you're the first person I'll call when he's out of surgery. I need you to take care of Mama. I need you to take care of everyone there. I'm depending on you."

"That's an awful thing to say to me." Tears drenched Ava's voice.

"You know I will. But… please, tell him, tell him when you can that I'm-we're-praying for him."

"I will. I'll call you as soon as I know anything more."

Nearly another hour passed before they were given the stingy report that the surgery was going well.

An hour later, Sykes came in to give her a more inclusive one. "Trip wire on the door. Five-second delay."

"He wanted Dave to get inside. Better chance of killing him if he was all the way in." In a futile attempt to relieve the pressure in her head, Phoebe massaged the bridge of her nose. "What did he use?"

"Same as with Roy. Blew out the door, the front windows, part of the damn roof. Turned the living room into the third circle of hell. He'd been three feet closer, we'd be waking him, Lieutenant."

"He's going to have to buy Maggie a truckload of flowers, then deal with her trying to get him naked. How about the canvass?"

"Most of the people on that block work during the day. Got one witness, guy who'd taken off to meet his plumber. He was watching out for him and saw the suspect walking up the street. Description's vague. He didn't really see anything but the UPS uniform. But the time matches Maggie's statement."

He puffed out his cheeks. "Firefighters responded fast, and I'd guess they saved the house. But, well, Jesus, LT, it's a hell of a mess."

"He loves that house," Phoebe added.

"I know a guy," Duncan put in. "He does good work. I could ask him to take a look at it, if that would help."

"It might. One less thing for Dave to worry about." She glanced toward the doorway again. "Yeah, it might help. Do we know how he got in?"

"How it looks is the back side window was forced open. He gained entry that way. Back door was unlocked, so he likely left through that, and didn't bother to lock it on the way out. That-"

He got to his feet an instant after Phoebe. It had to be one of the doctors, she thought. He had that weighty look about him.

She stepped forward. It wouldn't be rank that had her taking the lead. Every cop in the room knew it was personal.

"Dave McVee," she said. "I'm Phoebe MacNamara."

They'd stopped the bleeding, and saved his spleen. He'd suffered a bruised kidney, a broken arm, two cracked ribs and a concussion as well as lacerations and burns.

But his heart was strong. The doctor had told her his heart was strong, but she already knew that.

She sat in the chair beside his bed, waiting. And remembered how he'd sat with her, so long ago, while she'd waited for her mother. "They tried to kick me out," she told him while he slept. "They don't know who they're dealing with. I'm not leaving until you wake up and say my name. Once you do, I'll know for sure you're okay. Got a lot of cop blood being drawn downstairs. They're lining up to give a pint since you got greedy and took so many transfusions. Maggie got a look at him-you're sunk there, darling. You owe her so big."

She picked up his hand, pressed her lips to his fingers. "We all owe her so big. I'm having them fax me over the composites. And we're going to hunt this son of a bitch down like a sick dog. I swear it." She took a hitching breath. "That's nonnegotiable. I need you to wake up, Dave." She pressed his fingers to her cheek. "I need you to wake up and say my name."

It was another half hour before she felt him stir, those fingers moving in hers. She popped up to touch his face.

"Dave. Can you open your eyes? It's Phoebe. Wake up now and open your eyes." When his lids fluttered she told herself to push the call button for a nurse. But she wanted a moment. "Dave, there you are. It's

Phoebe."

"I know." His voice was thin and slurred, like an old drunk's. "I heard you. What the hell?"

"You're all right." She brushed at his hair, watching his eyes slowly focus. "You were hurt, but you're all right. In the hospital. Got some bumps and bruises, so you lie still. I'm going to call the nurse."

"Wait. What… it was raining. Was it raining?"

"Hell of a storm."

"What happened?"

"He rigged your front door. He got in your house, Dave. I'm so sorry."

"Door blew open." He closed his eyes a moment, a line of pain and concentration digging between his brows. "I remember, the door blew open."

"You were being the good neighbor, going down to help Maggie with some bags. So you're okay. Not every good deed gets punished after all. You're going to be fine."

"I saw him."

"You… what?"

"I saw him." His fingers tried to tighten on hers. "Across the street. Door blew open, and I stopped, and I saw him across the street."

"Maggie saw him earlier, so we've got a couple of composites. We'll-"

"I know him. You were right. Smart girl. Always were a smart girl."