Lopez handed Leo a stack of images. “With the help of Vegas’s surveillance cameras, we were able to narrow down the type of car the shooter was in. A black Cadillac Escalade, newer model.”
Leo looked at the dark images of the car Lopez described as it drove down the Vegas Strip.
“From what we can tell, they circled the block twice before making their move. I have headquarters combing through audio feeds from the Venetian to see if we can hear the actual shots.”
“How many casings did they find?” Fitz asked.
“Two. One traveled through the girl, the other was lodged in a pillar on the street,” Brackett informed them.
“Have we located the car?”
Lopez sneered. “Do you know how many black Cadillac SUVs are in this town?”
“A lot?” Fitz asked.
“All the limousine services use them, most of the hotels, and then there’s the private sector. And since the license plate had been removed, we can’t trace that.”
“Why can’t people do drive-bys in Ferraris?” Fitz teased.
“Don’t think that would narrow much down,” Lopez countered.
“What about Navi . . . Any movement on him or his boys after I left last night?”
“The hotel footage showed him enter his room, one of the bodyguards went in with him, the other moved across the hall. Sometime after two in the morning, the men switched.”
“Couldn’t be that easy.”
Leo glanced at Fitz. “Just means Navi made a phone call.”
“Do we have a list of calls yet?” Fitz asked.
“That’s a little bit harder. The only calls on his landline at the hotel were to room service.”
“Any word from the hospital?” Leo asked.
Brackett shook his head. “I’ll leave that one to you. Considering your attempt to pick her up got her shot, you’re going to have to talk her into not hiring lawyers of her own.”
Leo hesitated.
Shit, he hadn’t given that a thought.
“I should probably go, then.”
Brackett took a deep breath. “Not alone.”
Fitz let out a deep sigh and started to stand. “I’ll change my clothes.”
“Fifteen minutes?” Leo asked her.
She nodded through a tired smile.
“You’re okay. Don’t struggle.”
Pain flickered and came into red-hot focus.
Breathing was an effort, and her head was thick with fog.
“You’re in the hospital,” a male voice told her.
Her throat was on fire.
“Can you open your eyes?”
She tested her eyelids and found the bright lights invasive to her brain.
There were two men and one woman at her bedside. All three of them stared down at her, watching. The antiseptic smell of a hospital assaulted her senses. And the sound of her own breathing was accompanied by a strange sensation in her chest. She looked toward the window and felt the movement just as painful as her breath.
“W-what happ—” She didn’t get the question out before a cough tore at her lungs.
The woman she assumed was a nurse pressed a button on the bed, lifting her head, while one of the men brought a small cup with a straw to her lips. “Just a sip,” he told her.
The tiny taste of water felt as if it were going through sandpaper that was once her throat.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes.” She swallowed again and tried to shake the curtain in her brain. “What happened?”
The Asian man removed a pen light from his pocket and flashed it in her eyes. “I’m Dr. Lee. You’re at the University Medical Center in Las Vegas. You were shot last night.”
“I was what?” She attempted to look down at herself. Saw the rise and fall of her chest through a hospital gown and wires that were attached to her chest.
“Do you remember anything?”
No. She didn’t. “No.” But getting shot didn’t sound right.
“It’s okay. That’s not uncommon. The bullet went through your lung. You have a chest tube that’s helping you breathe. That’s the pain in your side . . .” Dr. Lee went on to talk about a surgery she didn’t remember and terms she didn’t know. Then, as she was watching him talk, she had a hard time concentrating on his words.
Who was he again?
“What’s your name?” the nurse asked.
“It’s, uhm . . .” My name. She closed her eyes, searching for it. “It’s . . .” This was not a hard question. “My name is . . .” The harder she concentrated, the more pain filled her head.
She attempted to sit up taller, as if doing so would bring the answer to her lips.
The doctor and the nurse looked at each other in silence.
“My name is . . .” She took a deep breath to answer. But it didn’t come.