Chuck Morton arrived the next afternoon with Detective Butts in tow. Butts was even more rumpled than usual, and he looked around the room uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. After a brief greeting, he lurked at the far side of the room, inspecting the idle hospital machinery at the end of the empty bed across from Lee's.
"We just came by to see how you were doing," Chuck said, but Lee sensed that was not the real reason for their visit.
"I'm ready to get out of this place," Lee replied.
"Do you really think that's a good idea?"
"They can't keep me here against my will."
"Don't you think you should listen to your doctor?"
"Aw, what do doctors know anyway?" Butts interjected, lowering his bulk into one of the plastic chairs and fanning his face with a packet of sterilized towelettes.
Lee began to get out of bed.
"Look, there's no need to punish yourself because we haven't caught this guy yet," Chuck said.
"I'm not punishing myself," Lee answered, even though he knew Chuck had a point.
"Okay, fine," Chuck replied. "Don't you think you should listen to your doctor anyway?"
Lee looked at his friend. He seemed ill at ease.
"Hey, I'm dyin' for some coffee," Butts declared. "You want some?"
"No, I'm fine," Chuck replied.
"Uh, sure," said Lee. "Sounds good."
"I'll be right back," Butts said, leaving the room as though he couldn't wait to get out.
"I don't think he likes hospitals," Lee remarked.
"Yeah-right," Chuck answered, but he sounded distracted.
There was an awkward pause, and then he put a hand on Lee's shoulder.
"Look, Lee…"
Something in his tone of voice caused a thin trickle of dread to seep into Lee's veins.
"What is it? Was there another victim?"
Chuck avoided looking at him. "No, it's not that."
"What, then? What's wrong?"
Chuck bit his lip and studied his shoelaces.
"The mayor's been hounding the DA, you know, and he's been coming down hard on us."
"So? What are you saying?"
"Well, they're pressuring me to bring in the Feds."
"You mean bring in an FBI profiler?"
"Yeah."
"I'm all for it-if they can spare the manpower."
"And you really need to rest-"
"Look, Chuck, I'm fine now! I'm ready to go-"
"No, you're not. Dr. Patel says you should stay in bed for at least another week."
"Dr. Patel is a professional pessimist."
"The thing is, we don't have the manpower available we once did, since-"
"I know-we're all stretched thin since September eleventh. But even if the FBI can spare someone, you'll need help filling them in. I'm getting out of here right now."
Lee struggled to get out of bed, but Chuck kept his hand on his shoulder.
"Come on, Lee, don't be like that."
"Like what, Chuck? Like what? What am I supposed to do? Stay in bed and take my medicine like a good boy? To hell with that!"
Lee pushed Chuck's hand away and struggled out of bed, fighting not to show the dizziness the sudden activity caused him. He dug his clothes out of the bureau next to his bed and stuffed them into the leather satchel Kathy had brought him.
Chuck smacked a hand onto his own thigh. "I knew it-I knew this was too close for you!"
Lee wheeled around to face Chuck. "Do you want to know how close it is? Do you? He came to me last night!"
"What do you mean?"
"He was here-sitting in that chair!"
"What are you talking about? Did you have some kind of fever dream or something?"
"No, I was as clear as day. He got in somehow."
"What? How?"
"I don't know how! He probably just walked in." Lee's head throbbed, and he had to sit on the bed.
"The bottom line here is that you're really not well yet."
"Oh, don't start with that again, for God's sake!"
"Would you just slow down for a minute and think what you're doing?"
"We're moving too slowly already!" Lee pulled on his shirt so violently that he ripped the sleeve. "Shit!" he said. "Goddamn it!" He picked up a shoe and threw it as hard as he could across the room.
As he did, he looked up to see his mother and Kylie standing in the doorway to his room. Kylie's eyes were wide with amazement, and his mother looked as though she had just swallowed a gnat.
"Well," Fiona Campbell said frostily, "it looks as though someone is having a bit of a temper tantrum."
"Uncle Lee, those are bad words," said Kylie.
"Yes, they are, Kylie," he replied, "very bad words."
Butts returned with two cups of coffee and an enormous cheese danish.
"I thought you might be hungry, so I-" He stopped, sensing the tension in the air. "What's the matter? Something happen while I was gone?"
"Well," Lee's mother said, "this is awkward, isn't it?"