"Now then, little lady." The doctor smiled professionally as he snapped his
instrument case shut. "You just lie back and keep still and there's no
reason you can't go downstairs for breakfast in a few hours."
Propped up against a bank of pillows, Sam Marston smiled back. "Thank you doctor. It was so good of you to take time away from your - activities - to attend to me."
"No trouble at all, my dear." The doctor picked up his bag and gestured in dismissal. "I always carry this with me wherever I go. It was just lucky that I was on the premises tonight."
At the table, Elliott Marston dropped his head into his hands and groaned. The doctor glanced at him on his way to the door. "If you want my professional advice, sir, I would suggest a good stiff shot of the whiskey Belle keeps locked away in her private cupboard. And you should have it as soon as possible."
"Thanks again, doctor. I'll make sure he gets it." Sam waved with her good arm. The doctor nodded affably and departed, shutting the door behind him.
Sam lay back with a sigh and closed her eyes. The silence was blissful especially following two hours of pandemonium with hysterical women, a frightened little brother, strangers poking and prodding, pain and blood. And just when she was preparing to give her husband total what-for over being left out of his midnight activities. She wondered if she was up to resuming the discussion. Cautiously she shrugged, then gasped as raw pain scored her shoulder.
Marston looked up quickly. "What? What is it?" He was out of his chair and across to the bed in two strides. Minute particles of glass crunched under his feet. "Don't move! I'll get the doctor again!"
"No!" Sam grimaced as the pain faded to a dull ache. "Don't get the doctor. It's just a little twinge." She smiled inwardly. All this fuss because a bullet grazed her shoulder. How would he react if she'd actually been shot?
"I thought we'd be safe here. Obviously our mysterious someone has found us. We have to make some plans." He turned away and stared out the glassless window at the street, his face drawn and pale in the grey dawn light. "Whoever did this will pay for it." His fists clenched at his sides.
"Elliott, you don't know that it was the man you're looking for. It was probably just some fool who'd had too much to drink and decided to play with his gun." She relaxed carefully into her pillows. "Believe me, it happens a lot around here."
"I had a chance to talk to Len while the doctor was with you. He was outside within seconds of hearing the shot." Marston did not look around but his jaw tightened. "He said that whoever fired that shot disappeared almost immediately. Does it seem the sort of behaviour of someone who was merely drunk and disorderly?"
"No, it doesn't." Sam bit her lip, then examined his taut stance pensively. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm not sure yet." Marston finally glanced at her, then away again. "I'll have to -" A rapid knocking was heard below. He stuck his head through the window. "It's Collins. Just the man I want to see. He doesn't seem to have got any more sleep than we did."
Footsteps hurried along the hall to the front door and the knocking ceased. Male voices filled the hall. Marston crossed the room and opened the door. Melvin Collins appeared at the top of the stairs, looking tired but pleased.
"Good morning, Elliott. I've just heard the news from the old man at the door." He nodded at his client and entered the room. "Mrs. Marston, my sympathies."
"Thank you, Melvin." Sam smiled graciously. "We were just discussing the whole affair. Elliott thinks that it was no accident." Collins paused before sitting down at the table and looked a question at his host.
Nodding, Marston shut the door. "I don't want to take our safety for granted. We'll have to be more aggressive in our pursuit of this person. From what Connaught said last night," He slid a sideways glance at Sam, wary of her reaction. "This man has a great deal of influence in the community and isn't afraid to use it."
Sam's face was grim. "Why don't you tell us what he said?"
"It wasn't much, really." Marston pulled a chair away from the table and sat down. He related succinctly his discussion with the banker in the latter's bedroom. No one spoke for some time after he finished.
Finally Collins tapped the table with his finger. "That's very interesting. But you have allies too, Elliott. And actually that's what I wanted to tell you. When I got home, I found a message waiting for me from Mr. Calbert Torken. He's just arrived in town and says he's supposed to meet with you. He assumed that you would get in touch with me first thing and wanted to leave his address with me." The lawyer reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded paper.
Marston reached across the table for the note. "This is a bit of luck. Cal and I aren't the greatest of friends but I can count on him for help. Now I've got someone on my side."
Propped up against a bank of pillows, Sam Marston smiled back. "Thank you doctor. It was so good of you to take time away from your - activities - to attend to me."
"No trouble at all, my dear." The doctor picked up his bag and gestured in dismissal. "I always carry this with me wherever I go. It was just lucky that I was on the premises tonight."
At the table, Elliott Marston dropped his head into his hands and groaned. The doctor glanced at him on his way to the door. "If you want my professional advice, sir, I would suggest a good stiff shot of the whiskey Belle keeps locked away in her private cupboard. And you should have it as soon as possible."
"Thanks again, doctor. I'll make sure he gets it." Sam waved with her good arm. The doctor nodded affably and departed, shutting the door behind him.
Sam lay back with a sigh and closed her eyes. The silence was blissful especially following two hours of pandemonium with hysterical women, a frightened little brother, strangers poking and prodding, pain and blood. And just when she was preparing to give her husband total what-for over being left out of his midnight activities. She wondered if she was up to resuming the discussion. Cautiously she shrugged, then gasped as raw pain scored her shoulder.
Marston looked up quickly. "What? What is it?" He was out of his chair and across to the bed in two strides. Minute particles of glass crunched under his feet. "Don't move! I'll get the doctor again!"
"No!" Sam grimaced as the pain faded to a dull ache. "Don't get the doctor. It's just a little twinge." She smiled inwardly. All this fuss because a bullet grazed her shoulder. How would he react if she'd actually been shot?
"I thought we'd be safe here. Obviously our mysterious someone has found us. We have to make some plans." He turned away and stared out the glassless window at the street, his face drawn and pale in the grey dawn light. "Whoever did this will pay for it." His fists clenched at his sides.
"Elliott, you don't know that it was the man you're looking for. It was probably just some fool who'd had too much to drink and decided to play with his gun." She relaxed carefully into her pillows. "Believe me, it happens a lot around here."
"I had a chance to talk to Len while the doctor was with you. He was outside within seconds of hearing the shot." Marston did not look around but his jaw tightened. "He said that whoever fired that shot disappeared almost immediately. Does it seem the sort of behaviour of someone who was merely drunk and disorderly?"
"No, it doesn't." Sam bit her lip, then examined his taut stance pensively. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm not sure yet." Marston finally glanced at her, then away again. "I'll have to -" A rapid knocking was heard below. He stuck his head through the window. "It's Collins. Just the man I want to see. He doesn't seem to have got any more sleep than we did."
Footsteps hurried along the hall to the front door and the knocking ceased. Male voices filled the hall. Marston crossed the room and opened the door. Melvin Collins appeared at the top of the stairs, looking tired but pleased.
"Good morning, Elliott. I've just heard the news from the old man at the door." He nodded at his client and entered the room. "Mrs. Marston, my sympathies."
"Thank you, Melvin." Sam smiled graciously. "We were just discussing the whole affair. Elliott thinks that it was no accident." Collins paused before sitting down at the table and looked a question at his host.
Nodding, Marston shut the door. "I don't want to take our safety for granted. We'll have to be more aggressive in our pursuit of this person. From what Connaught said last night," He slid a sideways glance at Sam, wary of her reaction. "This man has a great deal of influence in the community and isn't afraid to use it."
Sam's face was grim. "Why don't you tell us what he said?"
"It wasn't much, really." Marston pulled a chair away from the table and sat down. He related succinctly his discussion with the banker in the latter's bedroom. No one spoke for some time after he finished.
Finally Collins tapped the table with his finger. "That's very interesting. But you have allies too, Elliott. And actually that's what I wanted to tell you. When I got home, I found a message waiting for me from Mr. Calbert Torken. He's just arrived in town and says he's supposed to meet with you. He assumed that you would get in touch with me first thing and wanted to leave his address with me." The lawyer reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded paper.
Marston reached across the table for the note. "This is a bit of luck. Cal and I aren't the greatest of friends but I can count on him for help. Now I've got someone on my side."