Soulless The Girl in the Box - By Robert J. Crane Page 0,30
can’t remember anything about the attack, he’s suffering from the same kind of memory loss as the last guy.”
“You sure you can’t heal him, just to be safe?”
She let out a slow breath. “I don’t think so. I don’t want to push it. After we get to the hospital, we seriously need to find a place to crash for the night or else you need to take over driving.”
I did a little head shake of my own. I couldn’t tell if I was sober yet, but I doubted it. “We should just find a hotel. I’m not in any condition to drive yet.”
We went a little further down the road, turning when we saw a blue sign with a white H on it. After another mile, the hospital came into view and we parked. It was a predominantly brick building with white trim and an enormous, multi-story octagonal entry. I felt the warmth of the air as I stepped out onto the pavement. I looked into the car before I closed the door; Scott was still passed out in the back, snoring.
I shook my head to clear the cobwebs as I followed Kat across the parking lot and through the sliding doors. The hiss they made as they moved, coupled with the cool air conditioning hitting me in the face, gave me a half-second of disorientation. I’d started sweating, just a little, on the walk from the car. I wished this damned state would come to some sort of happy equilibrium in regards to the weather; but no, she bitterly clung to her extremes.
After inquiring at the check-in desk we were routed up a couple stories to the critical care unit. The tile floor clicked under Kat’s heels and I heard the squeak from the soles of my flats as we walked along. She had slowed her pace so that I would trail behind her. The air bore the familiar smell of disinfectants and I heard raised voices ahead of us. We came around a corner and found a nurse’s station with three security guards surrounding someone.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to—” One of the security guards stepped forward, blocking my view of the person that the three of them had surrounded. A couple nurses were behind the desk in the station, backing away.
“I don’t think you realize the depth of your mistake here.” The voice was familiar, but I still couldn’t see the speaker.
“Sir, we’re going to have to call the police.” The lead guard’s hand rested on his holster, and I could see that he was tensing on the grip.
“That’s a shame.” Cold, bitterly ironic, the speaker didn’t sound at all regretful. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew that voice and I adjusted my position, crossing in front of Kat. I caught a glimpse of him over the security guard’s shoulder.
He was in profile to me, looking at the guard closest to him, and didn’t see me. His hair was long, brown and hung almost to his shoulder blades. I saw that his face was red, though it was hard to tell through his swarthy skin. I knew his eyes were brown, though I couldn’t see them from this distance. I quickened my pace and drew my FBI ID.
“Gentlemen,” I said, holding it open. “Sienna Clarke, FBI. This is Agent Ahern.” I nodded to Kat. “What’s going on here?”
“Ma’am.” The lead security guard peered hard at my ID while the other two watched their subject with undistilled suspicion. “This man was trying to access patient rooms long past the end of visiting hours.”
I turned to the man they held captive. “Is this true?”
He folded his arms and stared at me with barely disguised disbelief. “I just came here to talk to the guy who got robbed.” He nodded at the lead guard. “This clown gave me the party line and I was about to give him the party platter.”
Kat squinted. “What...what that does even mean? Is that a threat?”
“Absolutely not,” he said. “A party platter filled with meats and cheeses is a generous gift, and he should be damned happy to get it.”
“Ma’am?” The head guard got my attention turned back to him. “What is the FBI doing here in the middle of the night, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“The same thing your troublemaker is doing,” I said. “We need to have a conversation with the patient. He’s a witness in a series of robberies that have crossed state lines.” I nodded