“That’s the car.”
The cop was an overweight man in his forties in a dark uniform jacket and the white peaked cap that always made her think of an ice-cream man. She pointed again, seeing that the car had turned off its headlights. She could see one silhouette behind the wheel. She looked at the gun in the officer’s belt for comfort.
He arched his black flashlight against his shoulder and pointed at the car.
“I can understand, ma’am,” he said. “Black male. Menacing behavior. He’s been a problem before.”
She was about to speak but then saw he was smiling at her. Then she saw Detective Dodds emerge from the sedan.
“What’s the matter with you!” She had stomped over to him and was yelling before any prudent centers of her brain could take hold. “Are you crazy? What were you trying to do?”
The big man adjusted the collar on his camel hair coat and arched his eyebrows.
“You took quite a way home, Cheryl Beth. And why were you digging in other people’s trash?”
“Damn you! Why were you spying on me, following me!”
“Since you left the hospital.” He looked at her with easy suspicion.
She could feel herself close to crying, which she did when she was really mad. She hated it because it made her seem weak. She shook her head vigorously to stop it and let herself feel the cold. Her foggy breath was coming out in quick, angry bursts.
“I’m sure you won’t mind if I search your car.”
She stared at him, suddenly afraid, feeling naked. “I sure as hell might mind.” She struggled to keep her voice calm.
She settled herself down with an effort, like riding a bicycle uphill. “What’s going on?”
He was about to speak when his cell phone rang. He held out a finger and answered it.
“What do you want? What the hell?” This was followed by worse profanities, his face pinched with rage. He put away the phone and rested his hands on his hips, looking uncertain. Then he gave her arm a light but firm pull.
“Come with me.”
She felt her pager buzz and pulled back, studying the number on the readout.
“Sorry, I’ve got to go back to the hospital.”
He took her arm again, gripping more tightly this time. “That’s fine. I do, too.”
Chapter Eighteen
“So what does a pain nurse do? I’ve never heard of a pain nurse.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing.”
“Never spent a day of my life in the hospital.”
Cheryl Beth glanced across the seat at Detective Dodds. He stared ahead, one big hand on the steering wheel. He drove across Central Parkway and through the dense, narrow streets of Over-the-Rhine.
“Then it’s your good luck,” she said.
“So what does a pain nurse do?”
“You keep asking that question.” Cheryl Beth stared ahead, too. She made herself put her hands flat on the tops of her thighs. It was a posture she had learned to keep calm.
“I’m just curious,” he said. “My daughter has talked about going to nursing school.”
“Well, we need good nurses. Now pain management is a recognized specialty. You have nurse practitioners doing it, too. She could look at the American Society for Pain Management Nursing…”