Free Cast a Pale Shadow by Barbara Scott

arm, chatting amiably with a nurse.
    "Sir, your relationship to the patient?"
    "Husband." Nicholas's voice cracked on the lie. It seemed to be one he was stuck with. He watched the policeman out of the corner of his eye while the clerk typed the lie into fact.
    "Religion?"
    "Uh. Mine or hers?"
    "The patient's."
    "Catholic." She traveled with a Catholic college crowd, so it was a safe assumption.
    "Insurance?"
    The policeman moved off at last toward the waiting room area where he sat down with the nurse. Nicholas relaxed a little and turned his attention back to the clerk.
    "Pardon?"
    "Do you have insurance?"
    "Yes. Uh, well, I have it. From work. But it doesn't cover her. Don't worry, I'll pay. I don't have a lot with me tonight, but--" He could sell his car if he had to. Whatever was needed, he would get it for her, if only he could help her.
    "That's all right, Mr. Brewer. Arrangements can be made. Your wife is in good hands. Dr. Edmonds is one of our best residents. If you will just sign this treatment permission and release." The clerk handed him a pen and the completed forms.
    Nicholas glanced over them then signed below the line that read "I attest that the above information is true and accurate to the best of my knowledge." There was a loophole there, he guessed. What little truth he had given was the best of his knowledge. That his knowledge didn't cover all the pesky details they asked for was not really his fault. Still, his hand shook slightly as he finished his signature.
    "Why don't you take a seat in the waiting room, Mr. Brewer? I'll have someone see to your abrasions."
    "Can't I see her now?"
    "The doctor will call you shortly."
    "But I--"
    "Please, take a seat."
    The only seat to be taken was the armchair across from the cop and the nurse, so Nicholas ambled in that direction slowly, hoping another would vacate. He stopped to get a drink at the water fountain, to read the Emergency Room Rules and Policy posted on the wall, and to sort through a stack of tattered magazines. Just as he was about to sit down, a nurse appeared with a first aid tray.
    "Mr. Brewer?"
    "Yes?"
    "If you'll come with me, please."
    He followed her to a small treatment room and for the next ten minutes, she cleaned and medicated his injuries. He did not realize until he winced from the sting of the medicine how extensive they were. His left temple and cheekbone were thoroughly scuffed and abraded along with the knuckles of his right hand and the palm of his left.
    "You're limping. Should a doctor have a look at your leg?"
    "It's an old limp," Nicholas assured her and thanked her for her care.
    Before returning to the waiting room, he stopped at the restroom and got a first look at himself. His face was not only skinned and tinted red with antiseptic down the whole left side but a bruise colored the corner of his eye. It was no wonder that Tom and Judy and the doctor jumped to the conclusions they had.
    The clerk had promised him Trissa was in the best of hands. Maybe now would be the time to leave. But, he shrugged, what would be the point? They had his address and his place of employment, and his signed and dated confession that he had brought Trissa to this hospital. Unless he was willing to run and keep running until he was well out of town, he might just as well stay here and see how everything turned out.
    Maybe, just maybe it would all turn out right this time. How could it get any worse?
    Before he had the chance to consider that question, Nicholas hurried out of the restroom. He had to see Trissa. If they wouldn't tell him where she was, he would just have to go looking for her. He had found her before, hadn't he? And she really had needed him, hadn't she?
    "Mr. Brewer, I've been looking for you." Dr. Edmonds was leaning against the wall outside the restroom, like a cat waiting at a mouse hole. "We should go somewhere and talk."
    Nicholas felt himself crumbling, and he braced himself with one hand on the doorframe. He had