“Stone,” Arrington said, “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
Stone nodded, and it hurt a lot.
“Let’s get you onto the stretcher,” the paramedic said. His partner appeared from somewhere, and they helped him onto the litter. “Just lie back and relax,” the man said. “We’ll have you checked out in no time.”
Stone drifted off again.
When he woke up he was in a curtained-off area. A woman in a green jacket was bending over him; Dino and Arrington were sitting beside the bed.
“How are you feeling?” the woman asked.
“Not so hot,” Stone responded.
“What’s your name?”
“Stone Barrington.”
“How many fingers do you see?”
“Three.”
“Good count.”
“How is he?” Arrington asked.
“He’s got a pretty good concussion, I think,” the doctor answered. She continued with a brief neurological examination. “I think we’ll admit him, at least for tonight.”
“Can I ask him some questions?” Dino asked.
“Make it brief,” the doctor replied, stepping back.
“You remember anything, Stone?” Dino asked.
“I heard a noise downstairs. Went down to check on it. That’s about it. My watch is gone.” He held up a wrist.
“Did you see the guy who hit you?”
“No; from behind, I think.”
“Right. Remember anything else?”
“The doors were open.”
“Yeah, the street door to your office was ajar.”
“No, the telephone and alarm doors.”
“Huh?”
“To the boxes in the hall.”
“I gotcha.”
“How did I get here?”
“You called Arrington, remember?”
“No. Yes. She’s mad at me.”