Going to the Bad by Nora McFarland Read Free Book Online

dying.”
    A ripple went through the silent nurses.
    Warner smiled. “That’s more like it.” He waved the nurses away with a flick of the wrist.
    After they’d retreated to the other side of the room—where they could still hear us, but at least weren’t hovering—I continued, “Who’s going to take care of your daughter, Mary, once you’re dead? Isn’t she parked in a high-class mental hospital right now? It’s a shame you won’t be around to protect her.”
    He took a quick breath and let it out slowly. Instead of firing back, he said, “What did you need to see me about?”
    Had I just won? Warner had to be in really bad shape. I actually felt a little guilty.
    I sat down in a wingback chair set near the bed. “When was the last time you saw my uncle Bud?”
    â€œThat’s why you’re here?”
    â€œI know he used to work for your father back when you both were teenagers. I heard you were friends.”
    â€œHe was my best and only friend.” Warner looked in mydirection, but his eyes lost their focus. “We were inseparable, right up until he turned eighteen and volunteered to go fight in Korea.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you go too?”
    â€œNo sensible person wants to go to war. And I had responsibilities. My father was sick and my mother was dead. Unlike Bud, I knew what I owed my family.”
    I straightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    He let his head fall farther into the pillows. “Bud wanted adventure. When he came back from the war, he only stayed a year before going to Alaska to fight wildfires. He was addicted to risk.”
    I knew Bud had been a smoke jumper—his knowledge had saved my life last summer when I’d been covering a wildfire in the mountains—but I’d never thought of that or his military service as selfish.
    Warner suddenly turned to me. “Why don’t you ask Bud these questions?”
    â€œHe’s been shot.”
    Warner’s eyes opened as far as I’d ever seen, which is to say, a little. Still, he looked more sad than frightened. “I don’t know why Bud insisted on living the way he did. Petty get-rich-quick schemes, associating with disreputable thugs. He could have been better than that. He wasted his life.”
    â€œYou might try to hold back on all that sanctimonious judgment. Whatever got him shot involves you too.”
    He didn’t move. Unlike before when he’d at least registered something, now he was a blank slate. “Why do you say that?”
    â€œHe saw something at a pawnshop yesterday that set him off in a panic. The first thing he did was call someone and shout your name into the phone.”
    One of the nurses made a small sound of recognition.
    I turned fully to her. “What do you know about it?”
    â€œWell, I think—”
    Warner raised his hand. The skin was a yellow-and-blue patchwork of faded bruises from previous attempts to connect an IVwith a working vein. But even in Warner’s weakened state, that one gesture was enough to silence the nurse.
    I got up and crossed the room. “What doesn’t he want you to tell me?”
    The nurses stared back at me. Clearly, supernurses of the rich and famous knew to keep their mouths shut.
    â€œWhere is Bud?” Warner said. “And what is his condition?”
    I turned back to the bed. “He’s in surgery at Bakersfield Medical Center.”
    Warner thought for a moment. His body remained still.
    â€œI want answers,” I said. “And I’m not leaving without them.”
    â€œBud lived in a terrible neighborhood and had low friends. I’m sure whatever bad end he came to had nothing to do with me.” Warner took a deep breath, but the air caught in his chest. “Why aren’t you at the hospital? If Bud is fighting for his life, you should be with him.”
    I shook my head. “I have no