More Than Friends Read Online Free PDF

hospital to find that Michael's outer injuries had been treated,
    that he was hooked up to a respirator, that the doctors were doing tests, but that the results were inconclusive. No one knew much of anything, which bothered J.D. no end.
    "No prognosis?" he asked Teke, who was standing alone at Michael's window, looking shaken and meek.
    "It's too early."
    "Doctors always have prognoses," he argued.
    "Not with head injuries."
    "Is there brain damage?"
    "They don't know yet."
    "Why not?"
    "I don't know. They just say they don't."
    He knew she was upset, but hell, so was he. Michael was his son, too. She should have been on top of the doctors. But Teke wasn't forceful that way. She was a good cook, a good housekeeper, a good shopper. She presented herself well and staged impressive dinner parties. She made unusual Halloween costumes, could tutor the kids, coach Little League, run school auctions that raised thousands of dollars for arts programs. At times of personal crisis, though, she fell apart.
    Annie was good for her at those times. Annie steadied her, set her back on track.
    Intent on sending Annie to her now, J.D. strode down the hall to the waiting room. But Annie was occupied with Jonathan and Leigh. So J.D. gestured Sam into the hall. "What do we know about the man who hit him?"
    Sam was subdued. "I just talked with the police. He's a carpenter. He's from out of state and currently unemployed, but his license and registration are in order. He's not being charged." J.D. was incredulous. "But he hit my son."
    "Actually," Sam corrected, "Michael hit him." J.D. didn't buy it for a minute. "The guy must have been going too fast."
    "Twenty-five, according to the expert who saw the skid marks."
    "Then his brakes were faulty."
    Sam shook his head. "Not from what the police say."
    "What do the local guys know," J.D. muttered. "Their specialty is citing drivers for parking too far from the curb. I'll hire an independent investigator. Your man Mundy. He'll find evidence against an unemployed carpenter."
    "Not if there isn't any." Sam looked pained. "Look, J.D." I know you want to find someone to blame. It's the most natural thing in the world. But that guy wasn't it. He was driving within the speed limit. Michael came out of nowhere, hit the front panel of the truck, flew into the air, and bounced off the hood onto the street, and all that time, the guy was slamming on his brakes. He wasn't drunk. He wasn't stoned. He was just there when Michael ran out."
    "Are you suggesting it was Michael's fault?"
    Sam pushed a hand through his hair and frowned at the floor. With a sigh he faced J.D. again. "All I'm saying is that going after the driver is a waste of energy. The accident happened. There may be dozens of reasons why, but they don't matter. What matters is making sure that Michael has the best possible care. I got Bill Gardner to head the case. He's chief of the department."
    "But is he here?" J.D. demanded. "Department chiefs are sometimes too involved in the seminar circuit to give their patients adequate time."
    Sam tossed his chin toward Michael's room. A doctor was just emerging.
    "That's Bill."
    J.D. made straight for him, introduced himself, and launched into his questions. Unfortunately he didn't
    learn much more than Teke had. Bill Gardner was a nice enough man, but he could offer little of a concrete nature. As he listened, J.D. took a date book from his jacket's inner pocket to note what Gardner did say, including the names of the doctors on his team. Then he looked in at Michael, who was still surrounded by medical personnel.
    "How often can we see him?"
    "Whenever you want. I've signed a no limit order. It may help for him to hear familiar voices."
    "Then he does hear?"
    "Possibly. We don't know for sure."
    The vagueness irked J.D. He wanted answers. "When does consciousness most often return in cases like this?"
    "Any time."
    "Or no time. Is he in a coma?"
    Bill Gardner didn't blink. "Technically, yes. I hesitate