“Juliette.”
The door that led to the back finally opened. “Person here for Callahan!” a man called.
Forgetting about the cops, I rushed to the man in scrubs. “I’m here for Wes.”
“Mr. Callahan is stable, but we’ve taken him up to surgery. If you want to follow me, I can take you to the surgical waiting area. You can register at the nurses’ station, and they’ll check in with the doctors during the surgery and give you periodic updates.”
“Okay.” I started walking, not even noticing that the cops had joined me.
“Juliette,” one said. “We’re going to need to take a statement.”
“I told you, I didn’t see anything.”
“Sometimes a witness doesn’t even realize they have information that can help us find the perpetrator. Something seemingly innocuous that you saw can turn into a lead.”
“I can’t even think straight. I need to go to the surgical ward.”
He nodded. “We’ll come find you in a little while.”
***
Three hours later, a doctor finally came out to talk to me. He lowered the mask covering his mouth and pulled off his surgical cap. “I’m Dr. Ettleman.”
“Hi, Doctor. I’m Juliette Grecco.”
He put his hands on his hips. “Mr. Callahan did great. The bullet nicked his liver, but I was able to repair the laceration without complication. His vitals are strong, and the minute we woke him up in recovery, he was asking for you.” He smiled. “He’ll be in the hospital for a few days, but I expect he’ll make a full recovery.”
I let out a long breath and covered my heart with my hand. “Oh, thank God. Can I see him?”
The doctor nodded. “He’ll be in recovery for another thirty to sixty minutes. Then he’ll go to the ICU as a precaution. He lost a significant amount of blood.”
“Okay.” I nodded, still trying to absorb it all. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“I’ll let the nurse know to come get you when he’s being transferred.”
He walked away, leaving me standing there, equal parts relieved and wrecked.ICU. A significant amount of blood.I sank into one of the waiting room chairs and stared at the floor, my mind replaying the day until a nurse finally appeared.
When I looked up, she smiled. “You can see Mr. Callahan now.”
I rose so fast I nearly knocked the chair over. “Great. Thank you.”
“He’s still groggy,” she said as we walked down a quiet hallway. “But he keeps asking for you.”
I swallowed hard as we entered the ICU. The big room was bright, with a chorus of monitors beeping in the background and a faintly antiseptic smell. The nurses’ station was in the middle, and the perimeter was lined with glass-walled rooms. Some had curtains drawn, others gave me a glimpse of patients connected to tubes and blinking lights.
When I saw Wes, I forgot all about the nurse and rushed into his room. His eyes were open but he looked so, so pale.
“Oh my God. How are you?”
He gave me a half smile. “Been better.”
The nurse interrupted. “Don’t be alarmed if he goes in and out of consciousness. The anesthesia will do that. But I’ll give you two a few minutes. Then I’ll need to take a full medical history.” She smiled. “We still know nothing about Mr. Callahan other than he’s worried more about his girlfriend than himself.”
I smiled down at him. “You scared the hell out of me.”
He lifted his head, but it looked like it hurt, and his voice was just above a whisper. “Is there a lock on the door?”
My face scrunched up. “The glass door?”
