Judging Joshua

“All I need is a yes or no, nothing else. If I have to, I’ll get the Chicago police up to your office with the proper legal papers. If you’ll just tell me yes or no, we’ll drop it.”

“Well, just a minute,” she said, and the music came back on the line.

Riley was nibbling nervously on her bottom lip and he had the idea while the secretary was searching her database, that Riley Shaw was either a great liar or a true innocent. As a cop, he prided himself on being able to read people, but this woman was hard to peg.

“Deputy?” the receptionist asked, interrupting Joshua’s thoughts.

“Yes, I’m here.”

“All I can say is, I have never personally heard of Mindy Sullivan or Barton Wise.”

“I appreciate that,” he said, then gave her his number. “If Mr. Nyland calls in for anything, could you ask him to contact me immediately?”

“Yes, sir, of course,” she said.

He thanked her and hung up, all the while watching Riley sink back in her chair. “Nothing,” he said, and she glared at him as if he’d failed in the most miserable way possible. He explained, “He’s on vacation in Florida and out of touch, and his receptionist doesn’t remember Sullivan or Wise.”

Riley felt as if she had fallen into some black hole. “I swear, he’s the one who gave me the money and the directions and said to take the car to San Diego.”

“Where in San Diego?”

“I’m supposed to call Mindy Sullivan when I get to the city, and she’ll tell me where to deliver it.” Her stomach was hurting again and she wrapped her arms around it. “I can’t believe this,” she breathed, rocking front to back slowly.

He looked worried again and she knew she must look horrible. “Miss Shaw—”

“Riley. My name’s Riley.”

Before she could tell him to call Mindy Sullivan, a buzzer sounded and Joshua was up and heading out of his office. “Hey, Gordie,” he said. “We’re in here.”

Riley stared at the worn wooden top of the desk until she heard another voice right behind her. “Okay, so what’s going on?” a man’s deep voice asked.

She twisted around to see a tall man bundled up in a suede jacket with a heavy fur collar, a matching fur hat pulled low on his head. He was gripping a stereotypical black bag in one hand; with the other, he skimmed off his fur hat. He was pleasant-looking, maybe in his late thirties, with irregular features and an aura of kindness. Riley hardly ever thought that about anyone she met.

“Gordie, the prisoner fainted,” Joshua said, coming to the other side of Riley’s chair.

The doctor had sharp blue eyes and an easy smile as he studied her. “I’m Dr. Gordon.” He flicked a glance at Joshua. “Although some persist in calling me Gordie.” He crouched so that he and Riley were eye-to-eye. “So tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know. I just fainted. I’ve never fainted before,” she said. “I’ve never even come close.”

“No. I mean, why did they arrest you?”

She blinked at him, wondering if he was joking. But he seemed serious as he took some things out of his bag and started examining her while she answered. “They say I stole a car.”

He reached for her wrist, pressed his fingertips to her pulse and studied a watch on his other wrist. “So you’re a car thief, huh?”

“No, I’m not.”

He chuckled and glanced at Joshua. “They’re all innocent, aren’t they?”

She looked up at her arresting officer, who was watching the two of them. She could take the doctor joking, but she couldn’t take the smile on Joshua’s face. “This isn’t a joke,” she muttered.

Joshua sobered, but it was the doctor who spoke up. “Well, if you take life too seriously, you’re doomed.”

She stared at him. “I just want to know why I fainted.”

As he got out a stethoscope, he explained, “I don’t have a clue yet. Headache?”

“No.”

“Nauseous?”

“A bit.”

“You’re not diabetic?”

“No.”

“Pregnant?”

She could feel the fire in her cheeks. “No.”

He pressed the cool stethoscope to her chest where her shirt was open. “Drugs?”

“No,” she muttered tightly. “Never.”

“Okay, when’s the last time you ate?” he asked, frowning as he listened to her heart.

“A few hours ago, maybe three or four.”

“What did you eat?”

She shrugged. “I don’t remember. Oh, a corn dog, some nachos, a soda and some candy bars.”

“You’re lucky to be breathing after eating that,” he murmured as he put the stethoscope back in his bag.

“It was either that or sausage on a stick and jelly beans.”

He smiled. “The lesser of two evils?” He took out a blood pressure cuff, tugged up her sleeve, then fastened the cuff on her upper arm.

“Definitely,” she said.

“Just relax,” he said as he pumped up the cuff. “Think of sunny beaches and lazy days under a palm tree.” He slowly deflated the cuff, listened, then finally undid it. “Good blood pressure.”

With all the stress she’d had since the squad car flicked on its flashing lights and siren, she figured having a normal blood pressure was a near miracle. He took her temperature with a digital thermometer, then placed it back in his bag with the other equipment.

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked.

He stood and looked down at her. “Besides a horrendous diet, my guess is you fainted.”