Fresh Disasters (Stone Barrington 13)

“We don’t beat people with rubber hoses anymore.”

“All right, beat him with whatever you’re using these days.”

“We don’t beat people at all.”

“Well, what kind of police work is that? What is the world coming to?”

The doctor spoke up. “Does he always talk this much?”

“Always,” Dino said. “Can’t shut him up. Is he ready to leave?”

“Normally, with a concussion, we’d want to keep him overnight, but he’s alert and responsive, so you can take him home-if he goes to bed immediately and stays there until lunchtime tomorrow.”

“I’ll see to that,” Joan said.

“I’ll get his clothes,” the doctor said.

“I think you should dress me, since you so sneakily undressed me.”

“I’m going to send in a big black guy named Roger to handle that,” she said, handing a card and a slip of paper to Joan. “Here’s a prescription for a painkiller and a sleeping pill. Call me if he misbehaves, and I’ll stop by and hit him over the head again.”

“I’ll fill your prescription and deal with the bill,” Joan said.

Stone grabbed the doctor’s card from her hand. “Gimme that.”

Roger appeared with Stone’s clothes.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Dino said. “Don’t be long; my car’s waiting outside.”

“I thought she was kidding about you,” Stone said to Roger.

“The doc don’t kid,” Roger said, tossing Stone’s clothes into his lap. “Get dressed; we need the bed.”

30

Stone awoke from a drug-induced sleep, tried to turn over, then emitted a girlish shriek. Every muscle and bone in his body seemed to be making an angry protest. He struggled into a sitting position, grabbed the pill bottle on the bedside table and tossed down a painkiller with half a glass of water. He steadied himself for a moment, then navigated his way into the bathroom, taking short steps, peed, and shuffled back onto the bed.

He managed to reach the phone and page Joan.

“Good morning,” she said cheerily. “Did you sleep well?”

“That wasn’t sleep, it was a coma,”

he replied. “And stop sounding so chirpy.”

“Oooh, it’s going to be one of those days, is it?”

“I hurt all over.”

“The doctor said you would.”

“She didn’t say that to me.”

“She said it to me, when you couldn’t hear her. Apparently, she made a quick assessment of your character and decided it would be better if you didn’t know.”

“I always want to know what’s happening to me.”

“She said you could faint or go into convulsions if you move around too much.”