Tormented by Robert J. Crane Read Free Book Online

down at her work and not up at me. “Not much in the winter, though.”
    “Cool,” I said. An uncomfortable silence settled over us. It persisted for five minutes.
    Finally, Sarah looked up at me. “You don’t mind sitting in utter silence?”
    “Nope,” I said, shrugging without moving the hand she was working on—with two sets of rubber gloves, I realized a bit belatedly.
    “Hm,” she said, “most people complain. Or try to make small talk.”
    “Complain?” I asked. “About what? That you don’t make small talk while you’re focused on stitching up their boo-boos?”
    “Bedside manner is the most common complaint,” she said, focusing on what she was doing again, which, now, was applying some medical tape.
    “You’re a beautiful summer’s day compared to my last doctor,” I said. “You know how people tell horror stories about losing their doctor to an insurance change? In my case, it would be a ‘happily ever after,’ even if my new one was named Kevorkian.”
    “The co-pay on that next visit would be killer,” Sarah said dryly.
    “But you wouldn’t feel a thing afterward,” I said, continuing our little riff.
    She didn’t laugh, but I saw one corner of her mouth curl in amusement. “Not bad.” She looked up, shifting the magnifying lenses up so she could look at me. “You’re all set. I taped the bandages in such a way that you’ll be able to just tear them right across the center here,” she ran a finger across my covered palm, “tomorrow, when you’re done healing.”
    I lifted my hand and flexed it experimentally. “Thanks, uh—” I caught myself before calling her ‘Doc,’ which is what I habitually said to Dr. Perugini, my present torturer—I mean, practitioner.
    “You’re welcome,” Sarah said, and she said it slyly enough that I could tell she was thinking something snide. It’s exactly how I sounded when I was holding back something snarky. “And just so you know, Jake is going to be waiting outside for you.”
    “Huh, what?”
    “He’s waiting outside,” she said. “Right now. Guarantee it. It’s not a stalker thing, he just wants to help you.” She surveyed me with appraising eyes. “Where are you staying?”
    “Cabin,” I said. “Out of town a little ways.”
    “Better than the main street hotel,” Sarah said, starting to clean up the mess of bloodstained gauze on the tray. “At least, if you’re the type of person who likes to have a moment of peace.”
    “Just what I’m looking for,” I said. “Moments of peace, as many as I can gather unto me.” I almost sounded sincere.
    Her eyes settled on me. “You really think you’ll find it?” There was a piercing quality in her look, a soul-deep gaze that made it feel like a challenge, a harsh, discordant quality to her voice that was the equivalent of pushing me back a step.
    “Excuse me?” I asked, trying not to leap to any conclusions.
    “I said I think you’ll find it out there,” she said, inclining her head toward the wall, a vague indication of the direction the woods lay, I guess.
    “I don’t think that’s what you …” I let my voice trail off. Maybe she just misspoke. What was the point of pursuing it? She had her head tilted at me quizzically, no hint of guile. People misspeak all the time. Like that time I meant to call my boss, Andrew Phillips, a knucklehead but slipped up and called him an ignorant jagoff prick instead. “Guess I should let you get back to … whatever you were doing before I got here.”
    “Just shutting down for the day,” Sarah said with a forced smile.
    “It’s like … noon,” I said.
    She shrugged. “If no one shows up before eleven, it’s going to be a slow day. Island is quiet, so if you can refrain from cutting yourself, I’ll probably be ready to leave at two. All the residents have my number, and we don’t have much in the way of tourists at the moment.”
    “Thanks for your help,” I said, not offering her my hand.
    She smiled