At seven o’clock, it was Tedros’s turn. He found Hort where he belonged, in his hospital bed, lying on his stomach.

Hort opened one eye. The other half of his face was smashed into a pillow. “Tedros.” He didn’t look that happy to see him.

“Hello, Hort. They treating you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Just fine. Peachy.”

“No more crises in the past seventeen hours?” Tedros, Agatha, and Nicola had all been in the emergency room with Hort in the middle of the night, but Tedros had gone back home afterwards.

“They won’t let me have coffee,” Hort said grumpily.

Tedros had heard from Nicola that this was a sore point. “It’s a diuretic,” he said. “Bad for burns.”

“Yeah, yeah. I feel fine.”

Sure he did. “Except for the blisters on your backside?”

“I thought that part would be obvious, Tedros.”

“Right,” Tedros said. He pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down, his blond hair swinging in his face. “So, Hort …”

Hort eyed him suspiciously. “What?”

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“You never got a chance to explain how lightning hit you on the ass.”

“I had a chance. I just chose not to take it.”

“Come on, Hort. You were out in a thunderstorm at eleven pm and you just happened to have your ass in the air?”

“Hey, don’t knock other people’s hobbies.”

“Hobbies?”

There was a pause. Then Hort said, “Tomatoes.”

“Tomatoes?”

“I was tying my tomato plants to stakes so they wouldn’t get ruined.”

“With your ass in the air.”

“Yes, Tedros, with my ass in the air. Is there something you came here for other than to mock my pain?”

“Interesting gardening technique.”

“I think I’m going to patent it. Are you done?”

A nurse came in and shot something into the IV line. She was the one who’d been trying to calm Hort down last night. They would have to send her flowers or something.

Tedros thanked her. Hort just grunted.

“So …” Tedros said once they were alone again. “I stopped by Nicola’s on the way over.”

The eye narrowed. “Uh-huh,” Hort said.

“She’s very worried about you. She was here this morning, right?”

“We both know the three of you have a schedule, Tedros.”

“Did she tell you that her picnic table was mysteriously cut in half?” Tedros kept his face blank, trying not to make Hort any more suspicious. He’d tried this tactic with Nicola and gotten nowhere, but a doped-up Hort was an easier target.

Hort waited a long time before answering. “I think she might have mentioned it.”

“Neighborhood kids, she said.”

“Gotta watch out for those kids. Bad neighborhood.”

“The funny thing is that the table’s got scorch marks on it.”

One eye darted around. “You don’t say.”

“And she’s favoring her leg today. I think she might have been to the infirmary.”

“Probably tripped over the picnic table. Twisted her ankle or something.”

Tedros knew it wasn’t a twisted ankle, though Nicola had refused to tell him what it was. “So I have a theory,” he said.

“Tedros, I’m in pain here. No theories, please.”

“Actually, I have two theories. I thought you might help me narrow it down.”

“Aren’t visiting hours over yet?”

“No, no, we’ve got plenty of time.”

Hort stretched a hand out to the night table and started feeling around.

“What are you looking for?” Tedros asked.

“The call button. Some guy’s harassing me against my will. I want them to leave.”

“Okay, okay. Just one question.”

“No more questions!”

“Thunderstorm fetish or picnic table fetish?” Tedros tried to hide his smirk, but his eyes were full of amusement and glee.

“Shut up.”

“What did Sophie have to say about it?”

“Get out!”

“You know, I think I might tell Anadil and Hester. I’m sure they’ll be interested.” Tedros no longer bothered to hide his smile. It just seemed to make Hort more angry.

“Tedros, I swear, I am going to kill you when I get out of here!”