Blood Sweep by Steven F. Havill Read Free Book Online Page A

Gastner’s. “We’re gonna get you ready to fly, lover,” she said. “Fun times, huh?”
    She reached out and tapped the IV feed. “You’re doin’ okay?”
    â€œAs long as I don’t move.”
    â€œBoy, oh boy, roger that. Well, Doc wants you snoozing through the whole trip, so we’ll get started with the goodies.”
    Gastner turned his head and nodded at Estelle. “We’ll see you when I get back from drug rehab,” he said.
    â€œSo you think,” Melinda scoffed. “She’s flyin’ with us the whole way, just to make sure you don’t try something foolish like hatching some weirdo escape plan.” She patted his left arm affectionately. “I’ve heard about you.”
    That brought a deep frown from the patient, who glared at Estelle. “You’re not going to waste all that time….”
    â€œA little R and R,” the undersheriff said. “Anyway, I want to chat with Camille when she gets in, and this will work out just fine.”
    â€œCamille?”
    â€œThat would be your oldest daughter, sir.”
    â€œI know who the hell she is. You called her? Jesus. ”
    â€œ The other way around. She called me, Padrino . That’s why I happened to show up at your place when I did.” She watched as Melinda introduced a new medication to the drip line. “We’ve hatched a grand conspiracy, you see.”
    â€œOh, for God’s sakes,” Gastner whispered. “Now I’m really finished.” He looked up at Melinda. “My daughter is a professional Jewish mother.”
    Melinda squeezed his shoulder. “Maybe that’s what you need just now.” She grinned at Estelle. “You have your over-nighties and all that?”
    â€œI’m on my way to do just that. How much time do I have?”
    â€œThe plane left Gallup a few minutes ago, taking a youngster back to Chinle. So what, two hours?” Gastner muttered something, and reached out a hand to point toward the door. The burly, bearded Dr. Francis Guzman had entered as silently as a cat, and after picking up the bedside chart, surveyed the various monitor screens.
    â€œThings are lookin’ good.” Guzman moved to Estelle and hooking an arm through hers. In his hug, she look tiny and frail. His left hand settled on Gastner’s wrist as if checking to see if the overhead monitor was correct.
    â€œYou should have told my daughter to stay in Michigan,” Gastner rasped. “She’s going to set my convalescence back a month.”
    â€œI don’t have the nerve to tell Camille anything,” Dr. Guzman said. “You can try when you see her.”
    Gastner relented a little. “Oh, she’s not that bad, really. But just fix me up here, Doc. I have a whole can of screws and bolts in my garage you can use. Christ, we don’t need to tie up a goddamn med-evac airplane for a busted hip.”
    â€œNormally, that’s exactly what I’d do,” Dr. Guzman said. “Raid the hardware store and get on with it. But some folks luck out and get the full VIP treatment.” As he said that, he turned and urged his wife toward the door. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said to Gastner, and ushered his wife out into the hall, closing the door to Gastner’s room behind them. “Camille’s flying in as soon as…?”
    â€œTonight, probably. Or tomorrow morning. She’ll rent a car in Albuquerque, so maybe she and I can drive back down here together the day after tomorrow. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
    Enveloped in her husband’s bear hug, she lingered for a moment, letting his strength bolster her own optimism. Nothing was ever simple. Padrino had pulled on a brave face, but with his health on the edge, he faced a dangerous surgery—and then a long recuperation and a troublesome road of physical therapy. All of those complications would