Claws For Concern

Jack and I had no way of knowing, however, that something like this would happen. Neither of us was responsible for the state of Delaney’s health. His poor condition was self-inflicted. A lifetime of drinking took a harsh toll on the body. Delaney’s own lifestyle choices were largely to blame, as was the unknown person who had tried to run him down. Still, I felt uncomfortable knowing that my actions had exacerbated the situation. Should I get the chance, I would apologize to Bill Delaney for upsetting him.

Despite my regrets, I did not intend to stop seeking the truth. I thought about those two young boys and their parents. They deserved to have their murderer named. If Jack and I could help find the truth, we would and be glad we had. If Bill Delaney was innocent, then he deserved to be vindicated.

By the time I reached home, I had decided not to call Jack. I would wait until I heard another report on Bill Delaney. If he made it to the morning, I would run over there, before Diesel and I needed to leave for Tullahoma, to see if he was in any condition to have visitors. I would share everything with Jack when I met him in Tullahoma.

Diesel greeted me at the back door. Stewart sat at the table, reading a magazine. He laid it aside while I was petting the cat. “How is he?” Stewart asked.

“They put him in the ICU,” I said. “He was stable, but the cardiologist said he’s in bad shape. He might not make it.” Diesel meowed and rubbed against my leg. He knew I was upset.

“I’m sorry,” Stewart said. “Will they call you?”

I nodded. “If I have to go out during the night, I’ll let you know.”

“Of course.” Stewart picked up his magazine and rose from the table. “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

“No, thanks,” I said. “I think I’m going to head upstairs and wait for Helen Louise to call.”

“Okay. You know where I am if you need me.” Stewart left the kitchen, and I soon heard him jogging up the stairs.

“Come on, boy,” I said. “Upstairs.”

Diesel scampered out of the room ahead of me. I turned out the lights downstairs, except for a couple that stayed on, one in the hall and another in the kitchen. Upstairs I found Diesel on the bed, and after I undressed I went into the bathroom for a few minutes. When I emerged, Diesel appeared to be asleep. As I neared the bed, he opened his eyes and trilled at me.

I joined him on the bed and stretched out beside him. I stared up at the ceiling, and Diesel put a front paw on my arm. He meowed softly, and I turned my head to look at him.

“I’ll be fine,” I told him. He blinked sleepily and seemed to relax. His paw remained on my arm, however.

Gazing at the ceiling again, I couldn’t keep my thoughts away from Bill Delaney and my part in upsetting him to the point of a heart attack. I had always had a tendency to worry over things, particularly over something like this. I mustn’t let Helen Louise know about this when we talked tonight, though. She would be tired after a long day, and I didn’t want her to lose sleep over this. There would be time enough to talk to her tomorrow or the next day, depending on her schedule.

Despite my worries, I soon dozed off, to be woken later by Helen Louise’s ringtone on my cell. I answered, and right away I could tell by the sound of her voice she was exhausted. We talked only a few minutes, and then I told her to go to bed and rest. After a final exchange of endearments, we ended the call.

I turned out the light and waited to fall asleep again. I tried not to let my mind dwell on Bill Delaney and succeeded enough that I finally did drift off.

My alarm went off at five thirty, and I woke quickly, at first thinking it was the phone. When I realized that I had slept through the night without a call from the hospital, I felt better. I hoped this meant that Bill Delaney’s condition had remained stable. Surely they would have called if he had taken a turn for the worse.

The drive to Tullahoma would take about ninety minutes, and that meant I would allow an additional fifteen to twenty minutes in case of complications. As soon as I was showered and dressed, I hurried downstairs with Diesel at my feet. By then it was six o’clock, and Azalea would be here soon. I looked up the number for the hospital and called, asking for the ICU nurses’ station.

Moments later I was speaking with a nurse. I identified myself and asked whether I would be allowed to visit Bill Delaney this morning. The nurse put me on hold but was back in less than a minute.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the patient isn’t able to have visitors this morning,” the nurse said. “He’s still sleeping, but in stable condition. By the afternoon you might be able to see him. Just check back with us later.”

“Thank you, I will.” I hung up the phone and uttered a quick prayer of thanks that Bill Delaney had made it through the night.