Surgeon – Chapter Twenty-Four

NOT EDITED

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tuesday: January 14, 2020

7:00 AM; CLINSTONE POLICE DEPARTMENT, MORGUE

“Hey,” Jacob greeted as he stepped into the morgue.

“Hi.” Bo raised an eyebrow. “Have you brought breakfast into my morgue?”

Jacob smiled. “You eat breakfast all alone down here every single day at seven.” He crossed the room and slid into the chair beside Bo. “Thought I’d join you.”

Bo chuckled. “Thanks, Jake. You don’t have to be here, though. I’m okay.”

“Oh, I know I don’t have to be. But I want to be. ‘Cause we’re friends, and friends like to eat breakfast together.”

Bo smiled faintly. “Again… thank you.”

“You betcha.”

“This doesn’t change the fact that I’m going back home after this case is over,” Bo said.

“Hey, that’s fine. You do what you have to do, Bo. I’m not a dictator.”

“I know.” Bo cleared his throat, wrapping a hand around his coffee mug. “So, uh… I took your advice of standing with my hands in my pockets.” He shook his head. “That feels unnatural.”

“Anything you’re not used to doing is unnatural,” Jacob said. “For what it’s worth, you shouldn’t have to change yourself in the first place. I only told you that because you asked me to be completely truthful, and I didn’t want you to be mad at me for telling you not to change who you are or how you are.”

“I know. That’s why I asked you. Because you’d tell me what I wanted to hear, regardless of how you felt about the situation.”

Jacob shook his head. “One of these days, Bo, I hope someone knocks some sense into you and tells you that no one can be normal.”

“I would say… good luck with that.”

“I know, unfortunately.” Jacob cleared his throat. “So, umm, once you go back to California… If anything bad happens, will you call me again?” Jacob asked.

“Do you want me to?”

“I’d prefer it, truthfully.”

“I will… do my best to call you if something goes south.”

Jacob breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Thanks, Bo.”

“You betcha,” Bo whispered.

12:00 PM; MINNESOTA, THE SURGEON’S HOUSE, OFFICE

“Did you take her food down?” he asked.

Gordon nodded. “Yeah, Dad, and I made sure she ate it.”

“Good. She needs her strength.” He cleared his throat. “She’ll eat again at six tonight, and her surgery will begin tomorrow morning at six, if that works for your schedule.”

Gordon glanced up at the ceiling for a moment. He looked back at his father, nodding. “As far as I know, that fits. If something comes up, I’ll tell you.”

“Good.” He shifted in his chair. “You’re going to want to go out for at least one or two before the surgery. There are four that need to be retrieved tomorrow.”

“Which ones?” Gordon asked.

“Paula, Rose, Marion, and Hannah. I’ll grab Marion in the evening, but the other three are younger than I am comfortable with.”

Gordon nodded. “Sure, Dad. Do you need any more etorphine?”

“Not today. I still have a dose or two here. I’ll let you know.”

Again, Gordon nodded. “All right. Well, I gotta get home. The kids are getting out of school soon due to snow, so I have to pick them up. I’ll be back tonight.”

He smiled softly. “Sure, Gordon. Tell them Grandpa loves them.”

Gordon chuckled, offered a smile of his own. “You could come by, tell them yourself.”

“Oh, I can’t. Not until your mom and sister are back. And then… then we’ll all be together again, and then I’ll come by. Okay?”

“Yeah. Sure, Dad.”

11:40 PM; CLINSTONE, BO AUSTEN’S HOUSE, BEDROOM

The usual jolt that awoke Bo from his nightmares was softened by the gentle tickle of Acamas’s whiskers on his cheek. “What’re you doing, Acky?” he asked roughly, cracking open one blue eye to look at his cat. She stood on his chest, her nose pressed against the end of his own, her eye locked on his. She purred, arching her back in a stretch. She lay down on his chest, stretching her paws out against Bo’s throat. Bo chuckled, lifting a hand to scratch the cat’s head.

He closed his eyes and shifted to run his hand over the cat’s spine instead. Bo may have had a less than ‘excellent’ life, more or less, but in more ways than one, Acamas was like a bright light at the end of the tunnel. And even though this house wasn’t home, Acamas was, and that made Clinstone, Minnesota just a little more tolerable.

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I’ll add the chapter links and whatnot later tonight when I’m on the laptop instead of my phone. Just wanted to make sure to get the update out, and it’s not guaranteed if I don’t do it while I’m thinking about it, haha

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