“Aw, fuck,” she says. “Listen, don’t you just have some Steri-Strips? Seriously.”
The paramedics look at each other, and back at her.
She tries a different tactic. “I don’t have any insurance, guys. I can’t afford this. Please.”
One of the medics wavers. “It’s Janie, right? Listen, you were in a complete spasm on the floor. Rigid. Unconscious. You smacked your head on the corner of a rusty metal coffee cart.”
Janie wheedles them. “I’m up-to-date on my tetanus shot. Look, I’ve got a math exam in—soon, and my college future rides on it. I’m telling you, I’m refusing treatment. Now let me off of here.”
Slowly, the paramedics back off so she can get down. She swings her heavy, unfeeling legs over the side
of the stretcher just as Captain Komisky breezes through the security check.
“What the hell is going on down here?” she asks brightly. “Why, hello, Ms. Hannagan. Are you coming or going?”
Janie looks around on the stretcher and grabs a hunk of gauze, trying to find the source of the blood.
“I’m working my way off this thing any second now,” Janie mutters. She takes a deep breath.
Hops off the edge.
Sticks the landing like ol’ what’s her name in the Olympics. Captain is watching her, an amused look on her face. She offers Janie her arm. “Come, dear,” she says.
“Looks like you’ve been busy tonight.” She waves the paramedics away with a sweeping gesture, and they go like lightning.
Janie smiles gratefully and holds the gauze to her eye. Her sweatshirt is stained with blood. She feels like she’s wearing cement shoes, and her head feels like a balloon.
“I called on my way in, got the scoop,” she explains when the paramedics are gone. “I wonder if we need to have a chat in my office?”
“I—sure. Um, what time is it?” Janie forgot to put her watch on when she left the house, and she’s lost without it.
“Six fifteen, or thereabouts,” Captain says. “I imagine Mr. Strumheller has had enough by now, don’t you?”
Janie is having trouble concentrating. She knows she needs to eat. She gives a shaky laugh. “I suppose that’s up to you, sir,” she murmurs.
And then she remembers.
Carrie and Stu.
“Captain,” she says nervously. “I came down here a few hours ago trying to spring my friend and her boyfriend. I’ve got the bail money, but I’m not eighteen until next month. Any chance you can—”
“Of course.”
Janie sighs, relieved. “Thank you.”
“Before we go in,” Captain says, “let’s remember that you don’t know me. Right?”
“Yes, sir,” she says.
“Good girl. Go get your friends.”
6:30 a.m.
Carrie rushes out of the holding cell like it’s filling up with poison gas. Stu follows. Carrie sees Janie covered with blood and nearly passes out, but both Stu and Janie ignore her dramatics.
“You guys are gonna have to walk. I’m sorry,” Janie says firmly. “I have to fill out some dumb paperwork for an incident report or something.” She points to her eye and makes like it’s the last thing she wants to do. She shakes her head, pretending to be pissed. “Stupid cops.”
Stu squeezes Janie’s shoulder. “Thank you, Janie.” He gives her a grateful look. “You’re a good friend. To both of us.”
Janie smiles, and Carrie looks abashed. “Thanks, Janers,” she says.
“I’m glad you called me, Carrie,” Janie says. Now, go away. 6:34 a.m.
Janie heads to the restroom, bloodying gauze pressed against her rapidly swelling eyebrow. She checks the mirror. The cut is beautiful in its own right. It lies just below her brow line, from the arch to where
the brow tapers, and is straight and clean. One day, she might wish she’d gotten stitches. But as scars go, it’s in a perfectly sexy spot.
She turns her sweatshirt inside out to hide the ridiculous amount of blood that oozed from the inch-long gash, and washes her face and hands. She takes a handful of brown paper towels, wets them, and puts the pressure back on it. Then she slurps water from the faucet. 6:47 a.m.
Janie leaves the restroom, and Cabel is there, pulling her into the cloakroom area. He looks tired. And relieved to see her.
“Let me see,” he says.
She pulls the paper towels away and shows him her war wound.
“It’s very impressive,” he says, and then grows serious, his deep brown eyes betraying his concern.
“When I saw you about to go down, I—” He stops and sighs. “I watched you. Most of that two hours, whenever I could pull it off without looking suspicious. It made me crazy that I couldn’t get to you.”
Janie, who is now shivering and getting very light-headed, just leans against him. He strokes her back, rests his chin on her head. “You sure you’re up for a chat with the boss?” he asks. Janie nods against his chest.
“I’ll get you something to eat just as soon as we get out of here, okay?”
She smiles. “Thanks, Cabe.”
“Meet me at the back entrance, okay? You remember which door? We need to split up.”
“Yeah, okay, good thinking,” she murmurs. Cabel walks nonchalantly to a staircase and goes down. Janie heads out the front entrance and walks half a block through the blizzard to get around to the back of the shops and buildings. When she gets to the unmarked door, she’s in a cold sweat. She knocks lightly. It opens, and she follows Cabel down the stairs.