Carolyn Jourdan - Nurse Phoebe 02 - The School for Mysteries by Carolyn Jourdan Page A

scrubs were in neat stacks organized by size and color.
    Charlie changed Nick while Phoebe changed herself. When they were both in clean, nondescript clothes, Charlie and Phoebe rolled their patient back to the darkroom and tucked him in again.
    “You realize of course that you don’t know anything about this guy except that he’s trouble,” Charlie said.
    “I know that he’s in trouble,” Phoebe corrected him.
    “And he’s gotten you in involved in whatever that is,” Charlie said. “Just so you know, I’ve taken measures to minimize his ability to create any further difficulties for the next few hours.”
    Phoebe looked over at their patient. Whatever Charlie had given Nick was already taking effect. He was snoring with his mouth wide open.

Chapter  14
    “You must be starving,” Charlie said. “I’ll go get some food and bring it to you. Be right back.”
    She heard the door scrape gently and he was gone.
    He returned with a couple of bulging paper bags. He set them on the counter and methodically emptied them, revealing three bagels, half a dozen small containers of cream cheese, a couple of bananas, two individual boxes of Raisin Bran, a half pint of milk, three bottles of water, two paper bowls, and a handful of plastic knives and spoons.
    He woke Nick and offered him something to eat, “No, thanks,” he slurred.
    “Have you urinated yet, since the fall?” Charlie asked.
    Nick shook his head.
    “Then we need for you to drink this,” Charlie said, and held Nick’s head with one hand and a bottle of water with the other. He helped Nick drink a decent amount of it. “It’s important that you stay hydrated,” he said, then gently lowered Nick’s head to the pillow.
    Charlie pulled two stools out from under the dusty counter and he and Phoebe sat in the red twilight companionably. He was perfectly at ease, she realized. Sitting in the dark, or near darkness, with all hell breaking loose around him was normal for him.
    It made her smile.
    His calm companionship was a healing balm. It was already working miracles on Nick. A couple of painkillers and knowing that he wasn’t obviously injured had really comforted him. He suffered from the impact with the rope platform, but the damage didn’t seem to be anything beyond a sprained wrist, bruised ribs, some abrasions, and a blooming black eye. He was one lucky guy.
    “So,” said Charlie, “what’s next?”
    “I’m not sure,” said Phoebe, as she gobbled some Raisin Bran and then tilted the bowl so she could drink the milk. “I haven’t had time to think that far ahead. I guess I need to find somewhere more comfortable to hide him until he can figure out a longer-term solution. Can we go to your office? I need to use your phone.”

    Phoebe dialed her good friend and former co-worker Waneeta—a name that was pronounced like Juanita , but given to her by a mother who was a terrible speller. Phoebe brought her friend up to speed as quickly as possible.
    Waneeta had been Phoebe’s dispatcher at the rural home health care agency where they’d used to work, so she listened calmly without interrupting, then offered practical advice, saving the histrionics for later.
    Neither of the women was unduly worried about Leon and Ivy because they were two of the most wilderness savvy people imaginable and they were on their home turf. Waneeta promised to check on them as soon as she hung up and relay Phoebe’s update.
    Phoebe told Waneeta about the new job and they discussed what to do with her patient while she went to work. Phoebe was beginning to feel that the mystery man was now safe enough and stable enough to consider what her further involvement should be, if any. She wondered if she should bail now. She thought maybe she should.
    Before giving any advice on this, in typical fashion, Waneeta asked if he was good looking, if he was married, and his age. Phoebe noticed she didn’t ask if he was a criminal. Waneeta’s priorities were skewed very much