The FBI Thrillers Collection Books 6-10 - Catherine Coulter [287]
Mackey had Savich propped up on his side and Bueller had unbuttoned his shirt and scissored his undershirt open down the front so he could attach the EKG monitors. He said to Savich, “We’ll let the doctor take care of getting the clothes off that wound. Just a moment more, Agent, sir, and you’ll be better. It’s important to keep you still now.”
Savich grunted.
When they at last settled him on his stomach, Mackey slipped oxygen clips into his nostrils. “That should feel a bit better.”
It did, thank the good Lord.
“Just a little nip here in the arm, Agent,” Mackey said. “I’m going to start an IV.”
Mackey got it on the first try, for which Savich was grateful.
“Now, Agent, sir, we’re going to apply a little more pressure to the wound,” Mackey said. “You just try breathing as normally as you can and hold still.”
When Savich had the pain controlled, he opened his eyes to see the sheriff on her knees beside him, holding his hand, which was hanging off the side of the gurney. Katie saw his control. He was a strong man, not just physically. She said, “Thank you for saving my life, Agent Savich.”
“It’s Dillon. You’re welcome. You didn’t have to come in the ambulance. There’s lots to do back at your house.”
“Oh, yes I did.” She smiled at him and kept stroking his hand. She said after a moment, “I should have realized that where there’s smoke—”
“Gasoline was leaking out, and the heat was building up fast. I just didn’t know how long it would be before it blew. A little more time would have been nice, though.”
“I wonder if that could happen with my big Vortec V8 engine.”
Savich couldn’t help himself, he smiled through the god-awful pain. If she’d come along to distract him she was doing a good job. “Yeah, it could even happen with that engine.”
Katie said, seeing that reaction, “She’s got three hundred horses at forty-four hundred rpm. Isn’t that something?”
“She?”
“My truck. I know she’s female. She just doesn’t have a name.”
“Three hundred horses, yeah, that’s something, all right.”
His eyes closed a moment; it was time for her to move on, time to get serious here. She said, “My mom told me once that learning lessons always hurt, only this time you took the hit for me. I owe you, Dillon. You saved my life.”
“Everything’s looking good, Agent, sir,” Mackey said. “Your EKG’s A-okay, and the bleeding’s nearly stopped. I’m sorry we can’t give you anything for the pain. You hanging in there?”
“I’m hanging in,” Savich said. “Katie, would you please call my wife in Washington, D.C.? She’s not much into truck engines, though, so you might not want to go there.”
Katie pulled out her cell phone from the T-shirt pocket beneath her wet sweatshirt. “I could teach her.”
He smiled. That was good.
“Okay, give me the number.”
Savich closed his eyes as he gave her the phone number, to keep the moan in his throat.
“What’s her name?”
“Sherlock.”
Katie guessed he wasn’t kidding about her name. One ring, two, then “Hello? Dillon, is that you? What’s going on? Are you all right? What about Sam—”
“I’m calling for your husband, Mrs. Savich,” Katie said, and automatically lowered her voice to make it soothing and calm. “I’m Sheriff K. C. Benedict calling from Jessborough, in eastern Tennessee. Your husband asked me to call you, ma’am. Let me assure you that he’s all right, Mrs. Savich. He—”
“Put Dillon on, please, Sheriff.”
Katie held the phone to his ear.
Savich drew a deep breath, hoping he was wiping all the damnable pain out of his voice. Sherlock could hear the smallest sound; she could even hear Sean’s breathing change before he hollered. “Sherlock? It’s me. No, no, I’m okay, just a little problem. Yes, we got Sam back. He’s fine. So is Miles. What little problem? Well, you see this van blew up and I was a bit too close to it. I got hit in the back by some flying metal.”
He closed his eyes, feeling the pain trying to draw him in. He