“Fifteen minutes,” she cautioned. “Doctor’s orders.” Rios nodded and sat down, the briefcase on his lap. He looked out the window. A fishing boat carved a wake across the sparkling blue waters of the Gulf. “Hell of a way to spend the Fourth of July,” Durant murmured, his voice barely audible. “How long have you been here?” “Just a few minutes,” Rios answered. “God, you look terrible.” “I have to get out of this place.” “Not for a few more days,” Rios told him. “Watch me,” Durant answered. He rolled over to get out of bed. Rios sighed, set the briefcase down, and walked over to the bed. “Not today,” he said, putting his hand on Durant’s shoulder. The weight was enough to hold him in bed. It was the way Rios tested him. When Durant pushed his hand aside and got out of bed, he would be ready to leave. “They want to do a bypass.” Durant shook his head. “It doesn’t seem fair. Cancer, now this. Maybe later.” “Bees, listen to the quacks.
