“Sloane, are you all right?”
“Nick?”
“I’m so glad you’re awake,” he said.
His grip on my hand was so tight, I’d lost all circulation.
“Where’s Maddie?”
“She’s on a mission to find you some real food,” he said.
“What happened?”
“You tell me; do you remember?” he said.
I examined the room and then the bed and realized I wasn’t at home, and I was dressed in a fashion-repressed hospital gown. On a bedside table was a tray with a bowl of Jell-O. I wondered why it always had to be Jell-O, and why green.
“I remember going to Charlotte’s,” I said. “I messed around with her computer, but I didn’t find anything, so I looked though the drawers and one needed a key.”
“I want to know about when you left,” he said.
“That part is a little hazy.”
“Try to remember; it’s important.”
“I locked the door, and when I turned around I got this feeling like someone was behind me, like I could feel their breath on me.”
“Did you see anyone?” he said.
“A figure, maybe in grey or black. I don’t know. It all happened so fast. And then I opened my eyes, and Maddie was there.”
“And that’s all you remember?”
I nodded.
“Are you still mad at me?” I said. “Because I’m sorry about what I––”
The door opened. “Ah, you’re awake.”
A man in a white coat, flashing a shiny pair of dentures and hair the color of tinsel approached my bed.
“You gave this one a scare, little lady,” he said, thumbing in Nick’s direction.
“I’m fine now though, right?”
“It looks like it,” the doctor said. “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
I nodded.
“What’s your name?”
“I don’t mean to question your judgment, but is that necessary?” I said. “I know who I am.”
“Just answer the question please.”
“Sloane Alice Monroe.”
“And do you know where you are, Sloane?” he said.
“A hospital, I guess, although I can’t tell you which one.”
“Good, very good. Who is the current president of the United States?”
“Can I name my favorite president instead?”
The doctor made a face that displayed his many wrinkles. “Fine.”
“He freed the slaves in 1863 and goes by the name of Abraham Lincoln. Did you know he was the first president to have a beard? Would you like me to recite the Emancipation Proclamation too, because I can?”
Nick stood off to the side with a wide grin on his face.
“Don’t tempt her, or she’ll have us here all night,” he said to the doctor.
“I want to run a couple of tests,” he said.
“Why?” I said.
“You sustained a concussion, one substantial enough to cause a temporary loss of memory.”
“But I feel fine now. What kind of tests?”
“The usual: strength, balance, coordination.”
He gazed for a long moment at my chart. “I’ve also ordered an MRI.”
“Sounds serious,” Nick said.
“It’s nothing to worry about right now; I just want to make sure her brain is not bruised or bleeding.”
“I want to go home. When will that be possible?”
The doctor patted my head. “I’ll come back and check on you in a little while.”
The doctor walked out, and the chief walked in. “How’s the patient?”
“She’ll live,” Nick said.
“I’m glad you came,” I said. “We need to talk.”
“No need. Madison filled me in already.”
Having Maddie discuss her findings with the chief was for the best. The medical jargon she liked to use often sounded like a bunch of gibberish to me.
“So?” I said.
“Why didn’t you come to see me before going to the victim’s house?” he said.
“You called her “the victim.” Does that mean you believe me now?”
I was pressing my luck, but my head hurt, and I didn’t care.
Nick piped up from the corner of the room. “I’m going to check on Maddie and see how she’s coming along with our dinner.”
“The green Jell-O looks so good though,” I said. “We can’t let it go to waste.”
“Keep an eye on this pain in the butt for a few minutes, okay?” he said to the chief.
He winked in my direction and exited the room.
And then there were two.
“Look Sloane,” the chief said, “you might think I don’t give a rat’s ass, but I do.”
I adjusted my position in the bed and tried to sit up. “I know.”
“You withheld information from me,” he said.
“It wasn’t my intention. I talked to you about this once already, and we both know it didn’t go well.”
“So you thought you would go out and confront Parker Stanton on your own?” he said.
“How did you––?”
“Know?”
I nodded.
“Your boy wants to press charges. Says you assaulted him in his home and broke three of his fingers.”
I tried my hardest not to crack a smile.
“Well?” he said.
“What?”
“Did you break his fingers?”
“Not all of them.”
He shook his head. “Aww hell, Sloane.”
“Did he tell you he had me pinned up against the wall? I’ll bet he left that juicy tidbit out. He abuses women. I caught him in the act the other night, and it would come as no surprise to find out he’s the reason I’m in this place. And then there’s the poison.”
He nodded. “I know. We’re working on a warrant, but it’s not going to be easy.”
The chief rubbed his forehead, which he did whenever he needed to decide what to do with me, like something could be done.
“Well,” I said, “do you want to work with me on this or not?”
“You got a name?” he said.
I promised Daniela anonymity, and I wanted to keep that promise unless it was the only trump card I had left. I shook my head.
“Come see me when you feel better,” he said. “And Sloane,” he said, walking toward the door, “don’t do anything else stupid.”