Page 124 of Deadline

ront. But she was made of stern stuff and eventually set him away from her and wiped the tears off her face. “I was told by the policeman who met me at the airport that he’s still in surgery.”

“They took him back”—Dawson glanced at the wall clock—“over three hours ago. No word since then.”

“Did you see him before he went in?”

He shook his head. “By the time Amelia and I were allowed to leave the scene, he was being prepped in the OR. They wouldn’t let us go back.” He reached behind him for Amelia’s hand, pulled her forward, and made the introductions.

Amelia bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering. “Mrs. Headly, I’m so sorry.”

Eva took her other hand. “It’s not your fault.”

“He was trying to catch the men intent on hurting me.”

“He was trying to catch Carl Wingert long before you were born.”

Amelia gave her a watery smile and motioned her toward the sofa. Eva went to it and sat down. Amelia asked if she could get her anything. Eva declined, but patted the seat next to her. “Please.” Amelia joined her and they began talking together in low tones.

Dawson turned back to Wills, who said, “We’ll keep you apprised.”

“I’ll appreciate that.”

“We’re sorry about Agent Headly.”

“Thanks.” He said it brusquely, but the remorse in their expressions was genuine, even in Tucker’s. He thanked them again with more sincerity.

The two left. Dawson, seeing that the women were involved in their conversation, stepped into the hallway. Disobeying the signs prohibiting the use of cell phones, he accessed his and punched in a familiar number. “Hey, Glenda. No, no word yet. He’s still in surgery. Got anything?”

Five minutes later, as he was disconnecting, a wiry, compact man in green surgical scrubs came through a pair of double doors. “Mr. Headly’s family?”

Dawson’s throat seized up, but he managed to nod toward the waiting area. He followed the surgeon into the room and stepped around him so that he was at Eva’s side with a supporting arm around her shoulders when the surgeon introduced himself.

“I’m sorry it took so long, but the surgery to remove the bullet was painstaking because we didn’t want to further damage surrounding tissue or nearby nerves. He’s in recovery. Not completely out of the woods, but for someone who took a hollow-point between his scapula and spine, he’s doing remarkably well.”

* * *

The surgeon provided them a much more detailed description of the wound and the repair it had required, but they absorbed little of what he said. What they heard was that, after the swelling went down, the paralysis Headly was currently experiencing in his shoulders and arms would be reversed and he should enjoy a full recovery.

Amelia knew that her relief couldn’t match that of Eva and Dawson, but it was profound nevertheless. Although Eva had absolved her of any and all responsibility, had Headly died, she would have borne that regret for the remainder of her days.

For Dawson’s sake, she was especially happy that Headly had survived.

In celebration of the good news, the three had hugged, laughing and crying in equal measure. Dawson was the first to pull himself together. He resorted to the masculine mechanism of dealing with a traumatic event by pretending he hadn’t been sorely affected by it. He cracked jokes. “He’s too stubborn to die. He wouldn’t go without giving me one final lecture.”

Eva saw through his ruse as clearly as Amelia did, but she didn’t call him on it, knowing that he was coping with his emotions in a manner that was comfortable for him. Eva placed a call to their daughter, who’d been standing by in London to learn her father’s fate. Soon after that they were told they could see Headly in recovery. Eva insisted that Dawson be allowed to go with her. He, in turn, refused to go without Amelia.

The three of them were shown into the curtained cubicle where Headly lay tethered to machines and roped in tubes. Surprisingly his eyes were open. As Eva approached the bed, he asked groggily, “Where’d you come from?”

She clasped his inert hand, and there were tears in her eyes when she bent down and kissed his lips gently. But she answered in a breezy tone. “They called to tell me that you’d been shot. I checked my calendar and it was clear. Having nothing else to do, I flew down.”

His eyes were suspiciously moist as he gazed up at her. “Just as well flush the Viagra. I can’t move my hands. Foreplay’s out.”

She laughed softly. “The paralysis is temporary.”

His unfocused eyes roved over to Dawson. “She lying?”

“No. You’ll live to screw another day.”

“Really, you two!” Eva said in mock outrage. “What will Amelia think of us?”