Dr. Lanz lifted her hospital gown, and though that prevented Lucy from seeing what he was doing, she felt a slight tug around her urethra. He seemed to fiddle with it longer than needed.
The perv.
“Might be a bacterial infection from the catheter,” he said. “I’ll have a nurse replace it.”
“Thank you. Where am I?”
He dropped her gown. “Blessed Crucifixion Hospital in Durango, Colorado. You were airlifted here two nights ago.”
“What happened to me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t remember?”
She shook her head.
Dr. Lanz glanced over his shoulder at the deputy outside the door.
“I think the Feds want to be the first to actually talk with you about the accident, but I can go over your injuries.”
Feds?
“Frankly, you’re lucky to be alive. You suffered a hairline fracture to the skull. Broken nose. You lost your two upper, front incisors. Sustained severe lacerations and abrasions to your back and legs.”
“How severe?”
“When you were dragged, the pavement essentially peeled away your skin over approximately eighteen percent of your body. You’ve already been through two surgeries that saved your legs, but you’re going to need extensive debridement and skins grafts. Right now, we have you on a regiment of negative pressure wound therapy. We can talk more about this tomorrow. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
Lucy swallowed. I bet I look so pretty.
“Any broken bones, Doc?”
“Your coccyx took a savage beating.”
“My coccyx?”
“Your tailbone. It was-I don’t know exactly how to put this-ground down as you were dragged across the pavement.”
Lucy smiled. “You’re telling me I lost my ass?”
Lanz flashed a high-beam, soap-opera-star smile.
“About fifteen percent of it. But considering the car dragged you through a guardrail and down the side of a mountain, I can’t quite wrap my head around how you survived. You’re a lucky young woman.”
Lucy squeezed out a single tear that slid down her left cheek. She forced a sniffle. “I don’t feel so lucky right now.”
Lanz reached forward and touched her cuffed hand, running a finger across her thumb.
“You’re going to be okay.”
“How does my face look?”
She registered the arousal in his eyes, his pupils dilating-a small tell, but one she’d learned to read. If a guy was trying to fuck you, that lowered a lot of defenses.
“You’re still stunningly beautiful,” Lanz said. “Just don’t smile until we find you some new teeth.”
Lucy smiled with her lips together, made herself blush.
“Thanks, Doc.”
“Honey, what’s your name? You didn’t have any identification on you.”
“Lucy,” she said.
“Lucy what?”
“Just…Lucy.”
“You’re not wanting to tell me, or you don’t remember, or-”
“I don’t remember.”
“Hmm. Could be some retrograde amnesia. It’ll probably clear up. You didn’t sustain a traumatic brain injury. Is there any family I should call? Just to let them know you’re here?”
She shook her head. “No one who’d care.”
“Oh, I don’t see how that could possibly be true.” He winked at her and wiped the tear off her face. “There’s a man outside waiting to speak with you. You feel up to that?”
“Sure.”
“The media has taken an interest in you being here.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but I want you to know that aside from your physical needs, your privacy in this hospital is our utmost concern. We won’t let anyone from the press bother you.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
“I’ll be back to check on you within the hour. You need anything in the meantime, just buzz Nurse Winslow.”
Lucy watched Lanz turn away and head back through the door into the corridor.
The morphine must have been waning because she noted a subtle sting beginning to encompass her entire body. She activated the pump again and the drug hit her bloodstream just as a black-suited man strolled into her hospital room, closing the door after him.
He dragged a chair over from underneath the television set and unbuttoned his black jacket as he eased down into the chair.
Lucy studied him through the opiate fog.