“Tolliver doesn’t need all this drama now,” I said. “We shouldn’t have gotten into this discussion. Thanks for your help last night. You should leave now.”

To his credit, Matthew said goodbye to Tolliver and turned and walked out of the room.

“Okay, that’s over with,” I said, to fill the sudden silence. I’d taken Tolliver’s hand, and he squeezed it, but he didn’t open his eyes. I didn’t know if he was truly asleep, but he needed to act like he was, so that was all right with me. Our stream of visitors seemed to have died out, and we had a few hours of that hospital boredom that I’d anticipated. It was almost a relief to be bored. We watched old movies, and I read a few pages. No one called. No one came to visit.

By the time five o’clock made its appearance on the big clock in his room, Tolliver insisted I needed to leave and check into a hotel, get some rest. After talking to his nurse, I finally agreed. I was almost walking in my sleep, and I wanted to shower again. All the little cuts on my face were sore and itchy.

I was extra careful with my driving as I stopped at a couple of hotels. I checked into one that had a room that was clean and ready and on the third floor. I hauled my bag in and slogged through the lobby and into the elevator, feeling an intense longing for a good bed. I was hungry, too, but the bed was the central item in my little day-dream. My cell phone rang. I answered it because I thought it might be the hospital.

Detective Rudy Flemmons said, “You sound like you’re just about asleep on your feet.”

“Yes.”

“We’ll have those tapes tomorrow morning. You want to come by the station to watch them?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, then. See you there at nine o’clock, if that suits you.”

“Okay. What’s happening with the investigation?”

“We’re still canvassing the neighborhood to see if anyone saw anything last night when your brother was shot. The other shooting was on Goodman Street, and it was a case of a falling-out between thieves. It’s possible the shooter in that incident was so jacked up after he took care of his buddy that he decided to take a shot at a good target as he drove by the motel. We think we found the spot where the shooter stood.”

“That’s good,” I said, unable to drum up more of a reaction. The elevator opened its doors on my floor, and I stepped off and went down the hall to my new room. “Is that all you need to tell me?” I used the plastic card in the lock.

“I think so,” the detective said. “Where are you now?”

“I just checked into a Holiday Inn Express,” I said.