The man in the orange prison suit jumped up and took a deep drag on his cigarette. Sweat poured down his forehead as he stood in the recreation room at the Kansas prison. It was late fall, the weather hot and humid. His contacts had finally come through with what he needed to know. Reed Conners was in Dallas,Texas and wherever he was, Lindy Lewis would be close by. Time was of the essense. John Thomas had patiently waited and now everything was in place, just watiting to be put into action.
Reed Conners lay in the Dallas hospital and when the morning sunshine finally awakened him, he knew instantly where he was and that someone had tried to kill him. He raised his hand and felt the bandage covering his right shoulder and a sling around his arm. God, his mouth tasted like a tin can. He winced as he tried to sit up to reach a glass of water on the bedside table, then fell back down on the pillow, pissed when the pain immobilized him.
"Where the hell is everybody," he grumbled and the door opened and Betty, the waitress from Tony's Steakhouse, stepped into his room. She came over to his bedside and kissed hin on the cheek.
"What are you doing here?" he muttered.
"Well, someone has to worry about you." She was still wearing her black uniform from work.
She looked him over critically. "The doctor said you were lucky, if the gun-shot had been an inch lower, you'd be in real trouble."
A sheen of sweat broke out over Reed's face and he punched the coarse cotton blanket that covered him with his good hand.
"Here's the water," Betty said and held the glass to his lips, and as he drank she added, "Now Reed, you've got to rest so you can heal."
"Yeah," he said, depressed and hurting. "Aren't you supposed to be at the coffee shop for you day job?"
Betty sat down in a nearby chair. "I called in and took the day off."
Reed looked at her and realized it felt damm good to have a woman worrying about him. "How did you know I was here?" He asked curiously.
"I was feeling blue last night knowing this was your last night here, so I called your room at the motel and they said there had been an accident."
"You mean you've been here all night?"
"Well I guess," Betty said.
"Thanks," Reed said a few minutes later, "Now I want you to go home Betty and get some sleep." And after she left, he finally got some coffee and when the caffeine cleared his head, he remembered it again. It had been plaguing him all night, but in his drugged state he wondered if it had actually happened?
He had seen Lindy! Had she been the one who had shot him? The million dollars she'd collected from his insurance company after her house fire couldn't mean that much.
Would all that money be worth it? A murder charge?
He exhaled and closed his eyes. God the pain, everything hurt!