The Hit - David Baldacci Page 0,79

drainage and infection. I’m going to clean the areas and put in some sutures to stabilize the affected areas and just to make sure we don’t have any problems. And I’ll give you another shot and more meds.”

“Okay.”

She removed some of the dead skin, cleaned the areas thoroughly, and then sutured some portions where the skin had pulled apart. Once finished with that, she brought over a syringe, rubbed alcohol on his left arm, stuck him, and then placed a Band-Aid over it. “So you did come back in one piece.”

“I did, yes.”

“I’m glad.”

Robie glanced at her. “Why?”

“We lose enough good people. You can put your clothes back on.”

Robie slipped his pants back on.

She said, “I’ll have the meds bagged up. They’ll be available for you out front in about five minutes.”

“Thanks.”

Robie buttoned up his shirt as Meenan made some notes in her file. Without looking up she said, “Did you hear about that crazy stuff in Arkansas? Did you know the guy used to work here?”

“Roy West?”

“Yeah. I actually knew him. Well, I examined him once.”

“What for?”

“Sorry, patient confidentiality. It even applies here. It wasn’t for anything serious. But I can tell you he was a strange guy.”

“Lot of strange guys here.”

“No, I mean really strange.” She paused and finished writing, closed the file, and put it away in a rack on the desk.

“Can I tell you something in confidence?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“I mean, really?”

“I mean really, sure.”

She smiled at this, but then her smile faded to a frown. “He was creepy. And he seemed like a holier-than-thou type. Like he had this big secret he was just bursting to tell me.”

“Probably lots of people here like that.”

“Maybe. But he stuck out.”

“Well, in the end it didn’t help him.”

“Killed in a militia war, I heard on the news.”

“So they say.”

“You know different?” she asked sharply.

“No and I’ve got my hands full with my own stuff.” He laced up his shoes and slipped off the table. “I appreciate you patching me up.”

“It’s what they pay me for.”

“So this West guy was kind of a psycho. Heard he got canned from here.”

“I’m not surprised. I can’t believe he passed the psychological vetting. He just seemed too unstable.”

“What else do you remember about him? He ever mention anyone to you?”

“Anyone like who?”

“Just anyone.”

She smiled slyly. “I thought you said you had your hands full.”

“I’m naturally curious.”

“Well, he did mention that he had friends in high places. Very high places, he said. I thought he was just blustering. He was pretty low-level at the agency.” She blushed.

“What?” asked Robie.

“Well, I thought he was saying all that to impress me.”

“You mean he was hitting on you?”

“Yeah, I think he was.” She slapped him playfully on the arm. “And don’t sound so surprised.”

“You think he was serious?”

“I’ve thought about that. If I had to guess, I think he did have someone higher up who had his back.”

“Not that high up. He got canned.”

“You’re right. Anyway, I’ll just leave it that he was trying to hit on me.” She slipped a business card from her pocket. “Just in case you lost my other card, here’s another one with all my contact info, including my personal cell. If you have any problems with the injuries please don’t hesitate to call.”

As Robie took the card, her fingers grazed across his. She didn’t meet his eye but her cheeks were slightly red.

Robie had a strong feeling that she was hitting on him.

CHAPTER

48

NICOLE VANCE WAS WAITING FOR him this time. And she wasn’t wearing any makeup. The woman was all business tonight.

Robie sat down.

“I already ordered you a drink,” she said.

He eyed her glass. “Gin?”

“Ginger ale. I’m still technically on duty.”

“Long day.”

“Long life. At least I hope.” She eyed his right arm. “You’re carrying that a little stiffly. What gives?”

The burns were healing, but slowly. And the arm was stiff, the new sutures Meenan had put in making it even stiffer. He wondered how fast he could draw his weapon. Maybe not fast enough. Yet he had done okay out in the hinterlands of Arkansas. Adrenaline made pain manageable. It was only later that everything hurt.

“Old age.”

She smirked. “Nice try.”

“Why are you still on duty?” asked Robie.

She sipped her ginger ale; her gaze held a faraway look. “When an investigation is going nowhere I tend to work overtime. Whole world’s going to hell, Robie.”

“What’s new?”

“You heard about this stuff in Arkansas. With Roy West?”

“Saw the news,” he replied.

“He was with your agency.”

“Never knew him.”

“He didn’t last long, apparently. Then he went

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