The Temporary Detective

Chapter Twenty-Four

Every time James tried to speak, the words came out all wrong. He knew Jayla couldn't understand him, because he kept trying to tell her that he wanted her to leave, but she kept saying, "Shhhh, don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." After a while, he could barely understand himself. It sounded to him like he was speaking with a pillow over his mouth. Then he realized that he was in bed and his face really was crushed into a pillow.

"Don' want you to stay," he muttered again.

"Shut up and drink this." Jayla heaved him over, propped his head up, and tipped a glass of ice water into his mouth. The sudden rush of cold made his teeth hurt, and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick. He wanted to brush away her hand as she caressed his forehead, but his arms felt as if they were tied to the bed.

"And take these. It's Advil for your headache," she said, prying his mouth open and dropping in two pills. Again, she held the glass to his lips, and he managed to wash down the pills.

"Nothing to do but sleep it off," she said.

He watched helplessly while Jayla rummaged through his bag for his cell phone. She turned it on and scrolled through for the number.

"Is this Bill? This is Jayla, James's girlfriend."

He tried to object from the bed—not to her calling Bill, but to her calling herself his girlfriend—but his tongue felt like an out of control garden hose.

"James has had a little relapse... Honey, he's in no shape to talk! I guess you could come over, but..." She met James's eyes. "He's about to conk out. Maybe tomorrow? I just wanted to make sure you knew, in case he tries to hide it from you."

Jayla sat down heavily on the end of the bed, which sagged under the weight of her disappointment.

"I know. I'm trying real hard and you are too," she said. "We'll all keep on trying. He needs us."

I don't need either of you, James thought. He tried to form the words, but they came out like "Donneedya." Jayla waved a hand to shush him.

"Thank you for being there for him, Bill."

Jayla hung up and set the phone on James's bedside table. She leaned over and rested her finger tenderly against his lips.

"We're just going to forget all about that little chat we had the other day. It's a good thing I came back to get my appointment book, or Lord knows what kind of shape you'd have drunk yourself into. You are not fit to be alone, James, even if that's what you think you want."

The long lashes fringing her cat-like eyes arched up so gracefully that he wished he could make himself small enough to recline in one. He wouldn't mind simply floating through life, curled up on an eyelash with a Jayla's-eye view of the world, enjoying the prettiest part of her, without having to deal with the rest.

"I'll spend the night tonight, and then tomorrow we'll see." She disappeared into the bathroom. He lay silent as the room spun and imagined himself settling down for the night on a bed of eyelashes.

When the phone rang, he couldn't tell whether it was his cell phone or his land line. They were right next to each other on his nightstand, and he threw out an arm to try to answer them both at the same time.

"Hlo!" The receiver from the land line hit the floor with a crash, dragging the rest of the phone with it.

"James!" Jayla scolded. "You're going to fall out of bed!" With surprising strength, she pushed him back onto the pillows with both hands and placed a cool, wet washcloth on his forehead.