High Noon in Sandbridge

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Even this early in the morning, Atlanta airport was a circus. Knowing they weren’t going to sleep anyway, Andy had booked the earliest flights he could find. They hadn’t bothered with more than a carry-on, either; if there was ever a good time to take advantage of their wealth to skip unnecessary planning, this was definitely it.

Andy hefted his bag over his shoulder and steered Scooter gently through the crowds. Mace’s death had hit Scooter hard—well, not surprising, Andy supposed, given the shock and the nature of their relationship. Andy fired off a text as they walked, and by the time they’d reached the taxi stand outside the baggage claim, he had a response. “We’re all going to meet at the hospital,” he told Scooter. “I know you said you weren’t hungry, but this is probably the last chance to eat for a while.”

Scooter nodded, eyes foggy and not quite seeing what was in front of him. “Yeah, I ain’t, but. Something, I guess. Don’t need t’ fall down.” He raised his chin a little to look at Andy. “You pick. Somethin’ I don’t need to think about, okay?”

“Okay, baby.” He nudged Scooter into the cab ahead of him and leaned forward to tell the driver where they were going. “Stop at the nearest Starbucks on the way.” He leaned back into his seat as the car moved and closed his eyes for a moment.

“This is crazy,” Scooter said. “Mace an’ I don’t speak to each other pretty much th’ whole of our lives, and now…now? Why now? Why not three years ago?”

“I don’t know,” Andy said. Not that Scooter actually wanted an answer, even if there was one. Georgia, he thought and looked out the window. He wondered how much trouble they’d get into if they were seen holding hands. Atlanta was more LGBT-friendly than the rest of the state, though. He looked back at Scooter and decided, f**k it—if some asshole wanted to start s**t, they could try, but Scooter needed him. He slipped his hand into Scooter’s and squeezed. “I’m just…grateful it is now, and not three years ago,” he added. “God, how much worse would that have been? You didn’t even know about Billie.”

Scooter shuddered. “Yeah, that’s…I ain’t sure I’m ready for this, but we’re all she’s got left. Poor kid.” Scooter gave a bitter, small sort of laugh. “Jesus, can…can you even imagine, if she hadn’t come t’ us last year? Oh, hello, Mr. Stahl, your sister was murdered by some jumped up druggie asshole in our goddamn emergency room and despite having a whole room full of doctors, we couldn’t do anything about it…oh, and by the way, did you know you had a seven-year-old niece? No? Well, come get her.”

“Yeah, that would…” Andy shuddered and rubbed his thumb across Scooter’s hand, soothing. “At least she’s met us a couple of times; we won’t be complete strangers.”

The cab pulled into a Starbucks drive-through. Andy fished out his wallet and handed the driver a twenty. “Two coffees, biggest they’ve got, one black and one with a little milk and sugar, and a couple of croissants or whatever relatively plain pastries they’ve got. Get yourself a coffee, too.”

He took the cups and bag from the driver and sat back again, handing Scooter’s coffee over, and a croissant wrapped in a napkin. “Here, honey.” It tasted like cardboard, and it couldn’t be much better for Scooter, but Scooter ate mechanically, not even looking at it.

Grady Hospital was enormous; originally a medium-sized brick building built in the late 1800s, it was now the largest hospital in Atlanta, and indeed, most of that part of the country, a huge sprawl of white, high-rise buildings. It took them a little while to find their way back to the proper nursing station—Mace had worked in the Emergency Room, but the actual office where her workstation had been was tucked around a corner and down a hall. Nurses and doctors and patients filled the corridors and the air was perfumed with sharp antiseptic.

Finally, they found where they were supposed to be.

Ellen Huang was a tiny Korean woman, her black hair pulled out of her face into a casual messy-bun. “I’m Dr. Huang. Your sister was one of my main support nurses. You have my condolences for your loss. Billie is just down the hall; I’m afraid we had to give her a sedative as she got rather violent at the news, poor girl. My daughter, Daisy, is with her. I paid Mary-Alice’s babysitter and sent her home. But she left a number for you to reach her to get caretaking instructions.”

Andy took the offered note, memorized the number, and passed it to Scooter. “Thank you, Doctor. We’ll be happy to reimburse any expenses, of course. Let’s…” He glanced at Scooter. “You want to go—”

“What happened to him—” Scooter burst out. “The man who murdered my sister?”

Oh God. Andy winced. “It’s a valid question,” he sighed, and lifted his eyebrows at the doctor.

“The man is an addict and was suffering from hallucinations brought on by detox,” Dr. Huang said. “We treated his injuries and he has been remanded to psychiatric care and evaluation. After an evaluation on his mental state is complete, he will be charged. He will get the help he needs, so that he’s able to face the consequences of his actions. I’m sure the sheriff’s department can answer other questions you might have.” She made a slight shrug. “It’s still murder, even if he did think your sister was a monster at the time.”

Scooter uttered a terrible, croaking sound that was nothing like a laugh. “Yeah,” he said.

“If you like, I’ll take you to Billie now.” Dr. Huang looked sympathetic, but she had to be busy, too.

Andy glanced at Scooter. “You want to see her alone first, or…?”

Scooter’s hand tightened on Andy’s. “We’re doing this together, right?”

“Absolutely,” Andy agreed. He nodded to Dr. Huang. “Let’s go see her.”