Who Drew the Two? (eBook)

Melton Luttrell (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2021 | 1. Auflage
226 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-6678-1648-7 (ISBN)

In the small West Texas town of Burson, the murder of one of the richest young men in the city has the entire community in a whisper.

In the small West Texas town of Burson, the murder of one of the richest young men in the city has the entire community in a whisper. As police chief Ward Thompson and sheriff Buck Jones combine their services to identify the killer and find the motive for the murder, five of the city's prominent business owners become entangled with the events that lead up to the tragic event. With a varied cast of characters including the owner of the local diner, the bank president's secretary, and the murder victim's widow, the epic story of a small town is revealed and no corner of it left unscathed. Weddings, divorces, and second weddings leave a suspicious trail that may lead to the identity of the of the murderer. West Texas high school football, square dancing, gambling in Las Vegas, and hunting and fishing trips in a strange way, contribute to solving the case. As a curious web of interrelated events unfold, the question remains: Who Drew the Two?

Chapter Eight

A LONG DAY AT THE HOSPITAL

Joanie Cason, having just filled three bowls with steaming oatmeal, three large glasses with orange juice and after retrieving three pieces of whole wheat toast, was preparing to join her two young daughters for their morning breakfast. Cindi, the older at age four and one-half, was a beautiful little blonde with great resemblance to her mother. Carly, blonde as well and three this month, was a little plump for her age. She also possessed a hearty appetite and was by far the more mischievous and animated of the two. Ever the thoughtful mother, Joanie had just admonished Carly for trying to sneak an extra spoonful of sugar into her oatmeal when she startled by the continuous ringing of the doorbell.

Who could that possibly be at this hour of the morning? In her haste to rise from the table, she upset her own glass of OJ. She quickly ripped a handful of paper towels from the roll on the kitchen counter and placed it over the spill. “Coming,” she announced loudly as she hurried to answer the early morning caller. She opened the door to something unexpected.

“Sheriff Jones, what brings you out so early this morning? Is something wrong?”

The Mason County Sheriff was standing unusually erect. His Four Beaver Stetson was rotating from one hand to another as he held it rather awkwardly in front of his rather large mid-section. In a soft, but distinct voice, Sheriff Jones broke the bad news. “Joanie, I hate like all get-out to be the one to tell you this, but Chat has been in an accident … You need to come with me to the hospital. Now.”

“No,” she replied as her voice begin to tremble. “What, How… is he hurt bad? Tell me, is he hurt bad? What happened, was it a wreck or what?”

“Joanie, we don’t know much of the details yet; he is alive… but pretty badly hurt. The ambulance is on its way to the hospital; and should be getting there just about now. Grab whatever you need, and I’ll rush you there. Randy will take good care of the girls and bring them down later; or you can decide what you want to do with them after you know more about his condition. You know, like who you want to sit with them and so forth. You might want to find out more about what’s going on before you have them brought down to the hospital. Anyway, that’s your call.”

Not a second was wasted as Joanie grabbed her purse and a light jacket, hugged her kids, and assured them both with: “Mommy has got to go away for a little while, but I’ll be back soon. Officer Randy is going to help you finish breakfast and play with you ‘till I get home. Please be good for the nice man.” Trying hard to contain her composure in front of her children, she bolted from the door and into the already idling car of Sheriff Jones.

Less than twenty minutes later, Buck and Joanie wheeled into the portico for the emergency room at Burson General Hospital. Only small talk had ensued between them in their rush to the hospital. Most of the conversation centered around Buck’s attempt to comfort her with words of encouragement and hope. Joanie, for the most part, held up reasonably well emotionally, considering the devastating news she had just received.

Buck was letting his thoughts wander: She’s strong … she’s a keeper. Chat got a dang good one when he got her!

The EMT guys met Buck and Joanie as they entered the ER.

“He’s stable, Mrs. Cason; a couple of Doctors are with him as we speak. Took a real nasty lick to the head, broken ribs, and a lot of cuts and bruising, but the seat belt pretty-well prevented any great damage to the rest of his body. Course, that’s our assessment; the Docs will do a full work up on him and get the full picture of his condition. It will probably take a while to do all the tests, but I’m sure they’ll get you back there as soon as possible. They’re aware that you were on your way here and, as soon as we sighted you, we relayed that info.”

“l would really like to see him as soon as possible. Can I see him before they do the tests?” Joanie asked.

“I’m sure that they want you back there as soon as possible also. But right now, Chat’s condition is their main priority. I don’t think a distraction is what they need right now.”

Buck Jones, like a gentle giant, moved closer and wrapped his arms around her as she began to sob uncontrollably. He then ushered her to a nearby lounge and sat beside her, tightly squeezing her hand, providing the security she so desperately needed at this hour.

Although in Joanie’s mind hours had passed, but only approximately forty minutes had elapsed from the time she and Buck had entered the ER.

How much longer, Dear Lord, How much How much longer? Is he critical? Oh … Lord … Jesus … please let him be okay. What’s taking so long? They should have notified me of something by now.

Approximately three more gut-wrenching hours had passed when Buck alerted Joanie: “The doctor’s coming.”

Two automatically operated doors, separating the visitors lounge from the ER patient rooms, swung apart as Dr. Jonas Mehaffey strode briskly into the waiting room area. Still clad in the traditional green scrubs, mask lowered to his neck, and prematurely grey hair protruding from the elastic bound head covering, the surgeon commanded presence. Joanie, as well as practically everyone in the county, personally knew the respected surgeon approaching her. His reputation as a surgeon and as a person was impressive and untainted. Speechless at that moment, Joanie just waited for the doctor to speak.

“Good news and some bad news, Joanie! Chat is conscious, and that is good; but on the other side of the coin, there are some potentially bad problems that we are going to have to hope and pray don’t mess up the recovery. General body condition, only a couple of broken ribs and a fractured left fibula, is not serious. The primary area of concern is the head injury. He suffered a severe injury to the head, and blood has accumulated on the left side of the brain. We did some intricate surgery and think that we have the bleeding under control. However, keeping the swelling down and preventing the pressure on his brain from building is both the worry and the unknown factor. We’re reasonably confident that we have it under control, but only time will tell. I don’t want to unnecessarily alarm you, but I don’t want to sugar coat it either. Prayer is the best thing we got going for us right now.”

Joanie’s voice was trembling: “Thank you Lord, thank you… and thank you Dr. Jonas, you’ll never know how much … When can I see him?”

“Now, but only for a few minutes; he’s slipping in and out of consciousness and will probably continue that for a few days. I’ll take you back there now if you’re ready.”

She grabbed her purse and was accompanying Dr. Jonas to Chat’s room. But after only three or four steps, she wheeled around and hugged the sheriff who had not, for a single minute, left her side.

“Thank you for what you did for me, Buck. I’ll never forget it! NEVER!” Joanie said.

“I’m really glad I could be there for you, Joanie. Anytime! Tell Chat we are all pulling for him.”

“Will do!” she replied.

The automatic swinging doors worked on cue.

Back at the Parker home, Randy Spears had full-filled his “Mr. Mom” role to perfection. Alternately keeping Cindi and Carly entertained with a multiple number of games that a three- or four-year-old would enjoy, plus responding to the constant repetition of phone call inquiries, he began to think that his proverbial “cup had run over.”

“Guess I’m not too bad at this Mr. Mom stuff after all,” he softly spoke to himself. One of the many phone conversations, between he and Parker, friends and neighbors, had resulted in a temporary fix to his Mr. Mom problem. Coach “Whistler” Williams and his wife, Mary Jo, had been long-time friends of Chat and Joanie. Having grandkids of their own, both had insisted on coming over to the Parker home and taking charge as grandparents in chief. Also, several times in the past, they had substituted as Cindi and Carly’s grandparents when Chat and Joanie were unable to find a sitter. Both girls were comfortable with the stand-in Papa and Mama. “Whistler” and Mary Jo’s reputation, outstanding as it was, made it a “no brainer” decision for Randy to relinquish his duties as sitter and homemaker. After a couple of hugs from the Parker girls, who did not want their newly found friend to leave, Randy excused himself and waved goodbye. A clerk, from the Sheriff’s office, had arrived with transportation back to the office.

Dr. Meheffey, tossing his surgical bonnet into the spoiled clothes bin as they entered, assisted Joanie into the CCU room on the second floor of Burson General Hospital. The room, rather large, was divided into six bed-units. All were surrounded by winter-green colored curtains attached to a circular track; designed for efficiency and often-needed privacy. Each unit was equipped with the latest in digital medical accessories. A special election three years ago, offering a bond...

Erscheint lt. Verlag	14.12.2021
Sprache	englisch
Themenwelt	Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
ISBN-10	1-6678-1648-9 / 1667816489
ISBN-13	978-1-6678-1648-7 / 9781667816487

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