His partner agreed with a nod.
“Do you know what could have happened to you?” Samuel asked, and before she had a chance to answer, he continued. “She’s damned lucky. Isn’t she, Rayborne?”
Without a hint of expression, Rayborne agreed. “Damned lucky.”
Isabel wasn’t in the mood to argue with them. But lucky? Were they out of their ever-loving minds, or had they forgotten she killed a man? She was definitely not lucky.
Michael took the seat next to her, and for the next forty-five minutes she answered all of the detectives’ questions. They kept circling around to the same ones, though. Had the dead man or the victim spoken to her? Had she met either one of them before today? What was she doing in that area so far away from the hotel? And how did she learn to shoot a gun with such accuracy?
Isabel had been operating in a rather numb state since she’d killed that man, but now every muscle in her body ached and her nerves were raw. She was more than ready to leave.
Michael finally called a halt to the interrogation. “You’ve got our cell numbers, and you know how to find us,” he said. “If you need to talk to Isabel again, I want you to go through me. You don’t talk to her without me.”
Detective Samuel nodded. “Isabel,” he asked, “will you be spending the night at the Hamilton, or will you go on to Nathan’s Bay?”
“The Hamilton,” she quickly answered before Michael could tell him he was taking her to Nathan’s Bay.
“And you’re going directly there now?” Detective Rayborne asked in his characteristic deadpan manner.
“Yes,” Michael said.
“No,” Isabel said at the same time. “We have to make a stop first.”
“Why?” Michael asked.
Calmly, as though commenting on the weather, she answered, “I need to get this bullet out of my arm.”
FIVE
OKAY, SO TELLING THEM ABOUT THE BULLET WAS A BAD IDEA. SHE SHOULD HAVE WAITED
until she was in her hotel room and then called the concierge for help in finding a doctor.
Michael and the detectives didn’t exactly freak out, but they came close. Michael had her jacket off and was looking at her injury before she could tell him to leave her alone. Then the detectives had to look at it—she noticed Samuel winced at the sight—and of course the captain heard about it and he had to take a peek, too.
Isabel insisted she could take care of the problem without their help. But that wasn’t how it was done, according to Detective Samuel. He was determined to accompany her to the hospital. As soon as the bullet was removed, it would be placed in a plastic bag, sealed, and wouldn’t leave Samuel’s possession until it was in the lab. It all had something to do with procedure, but she honestly wasn’t paying much attention, so she really wasn’t sure what he meant.
She was distracted because Michael had taken hold of her hand and wasn’t letting go. Then he pulled her into his side, and she didn’t know what to think about that.
“I’m going to get dried blood all over your shirt,” she told him.
“Are you listening to me, Isabel?” Samuel asked.
“Not really,” she admitted.
Michael shook his head. “I know you’re tired and want to get out of here, but try to concentrate on the task at hand.”
“The task at hand?”
“Concentrate. Detective Samuel asked if you understood why you needed to go to the hospital.”
She wasn’t an idiot. Of course, she knew why she needed to go to the hospital. She had a bullet in her arm. “Yes, I understand. I need to get this bullet out and you need to take it to the lab.”
When all was said and done, the ordeal took a full two hours from the minute she walked into the emergency room and saw the giant digital clock flashing the time on the wall above her until she walked back out.
A plastic surgeon, who looked as though he hadn’t slept in a year, was on his way out the door when he was called back in by the emergency room physician who had spotted him trying to sneak by.
The surgeon wasn’t happy until he saw Isabel. He perked up then and did a bit of harmless flirting, though, Michael noticed, Isabel didn’t do anything to encourage his behavior.
The surgery wasn’t a big deal. According to Dr. Alberts she was hit by a fragment when the bullet struck something nearby. The fragment was resting just under the skin, but it was entangled in muscle.
She was x-rayed and brought back to one of the cubicles in the emergency room. After her T-shirt was removed, the nurse did a surgical drape, which would keep the area sterile. Dr. Alberts, gowned, masked, and wearing gloves, numbed the area and quickly removed the piece of bullet. Michael stood back, but as soon as the bandage was wrapped around her arm, he walked to her side and took hold of her hand again. She wasn’t sure if he was offering her comfort or making sure she wouldn’t bolt. It was an unnecessary gesture, though to be completely honest, she had been considering an escape.