The darkness of the room seemed to amplify the somber mood as Jonathan sat looking over his friend while the doctor worked on him. Riley was practically on death’s doorstep. The bullet had hit him in the abdomen; the loss of blood was the most dangerous part. The bullet had missed his kidney by a hair. Had it hit the kidney, he would have bled internally and died within an hour.
The man was the local doctor in the nearby town and the only one who still did house calls. His name was Josh Hardin. He appeared to be in his late fifties and knew quite a bit about the town and all its inhabitants. He’d had no problem finding Riley’s lake house. He had thinning gray hair and slightly shaky hands which would make one question his ability to operate. He didn’t treat gunshot wounds very often. Howe
