I’m fine,” I said, for the fourth time in the last minute and a half. The inside of my mouth tasted like dry wool. I reached for a paper cup and felt the pul of an IV in my arm. The water slipped down my throat, but seemed to have no discernible effect.
“You realize how close you came to dying?”
Rachel was standing beside the ambulance, head bandaged, shoulders hunched, arms crossed. She had been in the middle of Lake Shore Drive, talking to Rodriguez, when I cal ed over on the radio. Then came a report that I’d been hit. She hitched a ride in a squad car and bitched at the cops the whole way. At least, that’s what they told me later.
“The bul et caught my vest,” I said, showing her the four stitches in my side. “Nothing more than a scratch.”
“It’s a little more than that, Mr. Kel y.” That was the EMT, not making things any easier, so I ignored her.
“How’s your head?” I said.
Rachel touched the white bandage at her temple. “My head’s fine.”
She’d been in the wrong place on the Drive at the wrong time. Unlucky in some ways, incredibly fortunate in others. Either way, it wasn’t my fault, even if I felt like it was.
“Someone taking you down for X-rays?” I said.
She nodded. “Rodriguez said he’d drive me over.”
“You okay?”
A smile limped across her face and back into her pocket. “Just tired, Michael.”
I took her hand. “I’l cal you later.”
“Maybe make it tomorrow.”
“You sure?”
“You’re going to have your hands ful here and I just need some sleep.”
I kissed her, then watched her walk away. Rodriguez was waiting by his car. He caught my eye and held it. Then he touched Rachel’s shoulder. She got in the passenger’s side and leaned back against the headrest. Rodriguez climbed in the other side, and they drove off. I unplugged myself from the IV and stood up. A couple of police choppers stil hovered over the lagoon, an effort to keep the flying media away. A police boat had tied up to the kayak. They were offloading the body in a bag. I began to walk toward the shoreline.
“Mr. Kel y, I can’t just let you go.” The EMT was fol owing me. “You could go into shock and there’s a risk of infection.”
“Is he giving you a hard time?”
Katherine Lawson trudged up the slope from the lake. Three more agents trailed behind her. Lawson pul ed off a set of latex gloves and threw them into a bag that had the word HAZARD stenciled on it.
“What did you find?” I said.
Lawson held up a finger and huddled with the EMT for a moment. Lawson came back alone. “Thank me, Kel y. I just got you a hal pass.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She held out a bottle of pil s. “Take four immediately and two a day after that until they’re gone. Prevents infection.”
“Four right now?”
“That’s what she said. How’s the side?”
“Your protective vests suck.”
Lawson looked over at the garment, folded and lying inside the ambulance.
“That’s Chicago PD issue.”
“And if I’d been wearing yours?”
“I’d probably be helping Rachel Swenson pick out a black dress. By the way, how is she?”
“She just left. Got banged up a little by the air bag, but otherwise, fine.”
“I like her.”
“So do I,” I said. “Let me ask you a question. Any reason to think she was the target here?”
“You mean was he targeting Rachel to get at you?”
“Something like that.”
Lawson shook her head. “Unlikely. If he was, why waste bul ets on anyone else? And she was the only one he missed. By the way, here’s your gun.”
The agent pul ed my nine-mil imeter from a bag by her feet.
“Thanks.” I tucked it into my belt. “So you’re thinking Rachel was another coincidence?”
Lawson nodded. Usual y I hated to agree with the feds. This time, not so much. We walked a little more until we reached a line of police tape. A notso-smal crowd had gathered beyond.
“I’m guessing you’d like to get out of here?” Lawson said.
“You here to make that happen?”
“Let’s go somewhere and talk.”