2:03 A.M.
University Hospital Northeast
ICU Saint Louis, Missouri
CHAPTER 26
I was swimming up from an empty black void. With a painstaking slowness, the black became less black, until finally it spread into a deep dark grey. Noises, some recognizable some not, began to filter in through the murk, and though I couldn’t see, at least I could hear.
“Somethin’ wrong? He okay?” Ben Storm’s drowsy voice drifted into my head with a languid echo. Although he sounded as if he’d just awakened, there was an air of alertness about the words; not to mention they were darkly tinted with concern.
Assuming my ears were working the way they should, I guessed he was several feet away. From that same direction I could now hear movement, and it was starting to come closer.
Immediately nearby, a calmer female voice replied to him in a half-whisper. “Just making the regular rounds, Detective. Checking vitals and such.”
“How’s ‘e doin’?” my friend asked, his tone a bit less intense. His voice was louder, so I assumed he was much closer to me now.
I was still swimming up through the greyness, groping for the light with each passing second.
“He’s stable,” she told him.
I heard my friend sigh heavily then shuffle in place.
I could feel something tightening around my arm as the low hum of an air pump filled my ears. It felt as if my heart was beating in my hand as the constriction slowly started to subside between brief, evenly spaced hisses. Finally, the quiet whoosh of escaping air flowed past me, and the squeeze encircling my bicep was gone.
My friend grunted. “Still a uniform out there, right?”
“There’s an officer just outside the door, yes.”
“Okay, good…” he huffed.
There was a short pause, then I heard the woman say, “You can’t use that cell phone in here, Detective.”
“Why not?”
“It interferes with the monitors.”
“Yeah, okay…” my friend breathed. “Any way we can get a phone temporararily hooked up in here then? ‘Cause we’re gonna need one.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” she replied. “But it won’t be until morning. You can use the phone out at the desk if you’d like.”
“Yeah. That’ll work for right now.” There was another pause then he said, “Ya’ got any coffee around here?”
“At the desk,” she told him. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right back…”
I could hear him turning to leave just as I broke through the surface of consciousness.
“Me too…” I groaned softly.
I heard him stop and turn back toward me.
“Row?” he said.
“Black,” I told him for an answer, my voice a little stronger. “And maybe some sugar.”
“Mister Gant?” the nurse asked. “How are you feeling?”
I allowed my eyes to flutter open. I was propped up slightly, but not necessarily comfortably. It was dark except for the subdued glow of vitals telemetry on the screen next to me and a small wedge of soft light streaming in from the partially open door. I could just make out their faces as they stood on either side of the bed looking back at me.
“I hurt like hell,” I replied.
“You have the morphine…” she started.
“Don’t touch it,” I said, curling my hand in to guard the button, and then winced at the sharp pain my sudden action evoked.
“Mister Gant…”
“Talk,” I managed to say as I caught my breath. “I need to talk…to Ben…”
“Yeah, Row?”
“Felicity?”
“Don’t worry. We’re keepin’ ‘er safe,” he replied. “Constance is with ‘er.”
Like the foggy memory from before, something simply wasn’t right about his answer. I didn’t get the feeling he was outright lying to me, but something about the choice of words told me he was engaged in the sin of omission.
“Where is she?” I pressed.
“She’s here at the hospital.”
“Where?”
He huffed out a breath as he reached up to work his fingers against his neck. Shaking his head slightly, he replied, “In a different room, Row.”
“Is she okay?” I demanded with as much intensity as my current state would allow.
He remained silent and continued massaging the bundle of muscles right where his neck met his shoulder.
“Answer me, Ben…”
“Physically, she hasn’t got a scratch on ‘er,” he said.
Anger was starting to brew inside me, and it helped me ignore the pain as I lifted my head from the pillow and glared at him. “You’re not answering my question.”
He grimaced then blurted out, “She’s in some kinda coma or somethin’, Row.”
I let my head fall back against the pillow as a cold terror flooded into my chest, pushing away the anger. I felt a burn down the back of my throat as it tightened. My eyes began to water and I blinked hard.
After a moment I asked, “What the hell happened?”
“You don’t remember?” he answered.
I sighed and shook my head. “We were at the diner having lunch. She was upset about not being able to connect with…”
“Whoa…” Ben interrupted me. “Diner? What diner?”
“I don’t remember the name,” I snapped back at him. “We went there after she wasn’t able to connect with the victim at the morgue. You should know this. You were there…”
“Row…” my friend began, shaking his head. “We never went to a diner.”
“What do you mean?”
“You really don’t remember what happened?”
“Dammit, Ben…”
The pain in my abdomen was now arcing from the left to the right and then back again. It bored deep and felt like my insides were on fire.
“I’m sorry, Row… Sorry…” He apologized. “Maybe you should just rest now.”
“That would be best,” the nurse interjected.
“What happened?” I demanded again.
Ben took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Shooting the nurse a glance, he said, “Wanna give us a minute?”
“Detective Storm… Mister Gant needs to…”
“Please,” I appealed, cutting her off. “Just give us a couple of minutes, okay?”
She looked to the monitors and stared at them for a moment. My eyes were adjusted to the ambient light in
