14
I couldn’t help but glare at Carly and her kicking foot. I wrenched my hand around the plastic arms of my chair over and over again—anything to keep me occupied so that I wouldn’t lunge out of my sitting position and pound the shit out of her until she told me what kind of perilous situation she had dragged Dad into. We had taken separate cars to the Harlingen Medical Center off Highway 83. I insisted on riding in the back of the ambulance, while Carly rode in an SPI police car. Someone was smart enough to keep us separated, but that only lasted until Dad was taken behind the swivel doors as one medic carried an oxygen tank to the side of the medical team procession—two doctors, three nurses, and the two paramedics.
Fortunately, Dad still had a pulse. His breathing was faint but steady. He’d been shot in the head, but the bullet grazed his temple, so there were no entrance or exit wounds. But a whole lot of blood. More blood than I’d seen at a bomb explosion a couple of months back.
I looked down at the silver and black squares of industrial carpeting in the waiting room. A man carrying a handful of magazines plodded toward our area and paused just next to me.
“Are you waiting to be taken back?” he said.
I lifted my eyes for a brief second, and I saw concern in his eyes. “I’m waiting on someone. Thanks.”
“Well, you might want them to mend you up. Looks like you’ve been injured.”
I brought a hand to my forehead and winced slightly. It was partially numb, but my fingertips had rolled across at least a couple of pebbles. “I’m fine, thank you.” I crossed my legs and began my own kicking routine as the man shrugged and walked away.
I exhaled loudly and stared at Carly. She refused to look at me. Her eyes were swollen from tears, and she held a tattered tissue in one hand. She wasn’t emotional at the moment. In fact, she seemed drained, almost in a catatonic state. I began to chide myself for not following my gut, for not pushing harder when I had the chance at Dad’s house, and for believing their bullshit.
But what did Dad really know? Knowing she had likely crossed paths with Bolivar, who not only was connected to a sex/drug house that might be set up to extort information from or influence over local, state, and maybe federal officials, he was also involved in some way in the Kyle Spencer kidnapping.
Even though my thoughts were with Dad, hoping he’d pull through, I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Carly, you’ve got to tell me what the fuck you have done.” My intensity was so strong, I could feel my eyelids quivering. She opened her purse and dug through it, pretending I didn’t exist. “Tell me, dammit!” I smacked the top of the plastic arm of my chair with an open palm, and I could feel the sting of my open wound all the way up to my elbow.
Just then, a nurse barreled through the door. “He’s awake. You can see him now.”
I curled out of my chair and was through the doors in no time.
“Are you family?” the slender nurse asked.
“I’m his daughter, yes.” I started walking down the wide hall, curtains on both sides, that familiar hospital smell of disinfectant lingering in the chilled air. “Where is he?” I asked, my arms tucked against my ribcage. When I didn’t hear an immediate response, I turned to look over my shoulder and found Carly speaking with the nurse. “She’s not family,” I said.
Carly splayed her arms, then continued speaking with the nurse. I didn’t want to waste another breath on that woman—not until I knew Dad was okay. I asked two staffers where I could find the room for Donald Troutt, and they pointed toward the room at the end of the hall.
I heard soft voices as I put my fingers on the facing of the wooden door. I peeked inside and found Dad hooked up to a bunch of machines, his head with a fresh wrapping. Two women stood at the end of his bed, both reviewing information from a tablet held by a nurse in purple scrubs.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Thomas, Debbie Thomas,” she said, extending her hand.
“How’s he doing?”
Before she could respond, the door smacked the wall and Carly came barreling into the room going straight for Dad.
“She’s not family” were the first words out of my mouth.
“We’re practically married, right, Donny?” she said, moving to a chair at his bedside as she removed her purse and set it down next to her.
“Married, my ass.”
“Ladies,” Dr. Thomas said. “This is exactly what he cannot have. He needs quiet and calm.”
I gave her a stiff nod without looking at Carly. “What’s your assessment of him?”
“Decent amount of blood loss, and he’s got a nasty gash. But his main issue is that he suffered a concussion.”
“That makes sense. He hit the concrete pretty damn hard,” Carly said. Her jaw was overactive, and I realized she was chewing gum.
It would have been nice for her to offer that information when I found both of them in the parking lot.
“Is he going to be okay?”
Dr. Thomas put her hand on my forearm. “He should be fine, as long as he takes it easy for a week or so. But we want to keep him overnight, make sure his dressing is changed on his wound, keep an IV in him for antibiotics and pain, and keep him hydrated. A concussion, especially at his age, is nothing to slough off.”
“Oh, that Donny, he’s one hardheaded son of a bitch, I tell you.” She smacked her gum, and then patted Dad’s hand…right where the IV needle stuck into his skin. He flinched.
“Ooh!” she yipped, hopping up in her seat.
Dad moved his head and moaned a little, but kept his eyes shut.
I gritted my teeth as the nurse swung around me. “Miss…”
“Just call me Carly. Everyone does.”
“Carly, you can’t touch or tug on the tube connected to the IV needle. That probably hurt your, uh…”
“My dad.” She needed to give him a label, so I gave her one.
“Her dad, right. Just please be very careful, will you?”
“Okay,” she said, leaning back in the chair, propping her hand under her chin.
She was lucky we had chaperones in the room.
“I’ll drop by during my rounds in the morning,” Dr. Thomas said, handing the tablet to the nurse. “If he checks out okay, I’ll release him.” She walked to the exit and put a hand on the door, then she turned back to us. “I have no idea who or what caused this incident. I will say the obvious: if that bullet had hit him a half inch to the right, it would have created severe brain damage and most likely…well, you know. All I’m saying is…please be safe and steer clear of whatever got him in the hospital. He’s a very lucky man. But you can’t buy luck.”
She gave Carly and me both a stern look and then walked out. The nurse checked his vital signs one more time, then leaned in and spoke to him. “Mr. Troutt, I’m Angie, your overnight nurse. You’re going to be hearing plenty from me tonight. If you need anything, just click this button. I’ll place it in your left hand.” She did as she said. “Would you like any ice chips, water even, or maybe Sprite?”
He licked his lips, but his eyes remained shut.
She giggled, keeping the mood light. “Tell you what, I’ll get some ice chips for you and one of these pretty ladies here can feed you some as you wake up, okay? I’ll be right back.”
She scooted out of the room without saying another word to Carly or me. My nemesis immediately started kicking again. I got the feeling she’d be doing something a lot more disturbing if she had access to it, but who was I to judge? As I thought about it more, I was well within my right to be judge, jury, and executioner—in a nonviolent way, of course. For the second time on our vacation, my kids had been put in harm’s way. This time they were farther away from the shooting, but bullets are not programmable. I recalled Luke opening up to me about the incident near the lighthouse, where one bullet had somehow penetrated the confines of the tall, concrete-and-metal structure.
I pinched the corners of my eyes and tried to force out a breath. I looked at Dad, then over to Carly, who had turn
ed her body away from me. She was kicking like a drill team girl, all the while chewing manically on her gum. She had something churning in her brain. I wondered what it was. What did she know about these obviously targeted threats against her and Dad?
I needed to give her another try, using a kinder, gentler approach. I pumped out one more calming breath, hoping I could keep my emotions in check. “Carly, can you step into the hallway, please?”
She snatched her purse off the ground, then kissed Dad on the shoulder and followed me into the hallway.
“What is it now, Alex? What could be so important to take our time and focus away from your father at a time when he needs it most?”
Her first shot was a guilt grenade.
“Dad lying in a hospital bed with a bullet wound and concussion is why we need to have this discussion, the one we never really had at your house earlier today.”
“Not sure what you’re implying.”
I dropped my arms and attempted to keep my voice serene. “Can’t turn back the clock, so let’s just start over. I need you to tell me who you are involved with that would want to harm you, or even Dad. That’s the only way I can prevent it from happening again, before someone dies, Carly.”
“You need this, you need that.” She leaned forward and poked at her chest so hard I could hear the thump. “What about my needs, Miss Perfect?”
Name-calling and more deflection. She was a real pro at this.
I ignored her personal attack. “What has you so spooked? Is someone threatening you or Dad? I can help you. I have the resources to truly help you.”
She shook her head and closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Promises. Do you know how many people have promised me things in my life and never come through, or have instead turned around and hurt me? Not just hurt me, but destroyed my will to live?”
She had more emotional scar tissue than a hundred people. How Dad couldn’t see that was beyond me, although I knew his list of regrets was a mile long. “I’m not here to hurt you or make you look bad. If you’ve done something wrong, it’s better to face it now, own up to it. Dad used to tell me when I was a little girl that one lie left unchecked was like throwing a rock in a pond. It would create ten times as many ripples, and each ripple would cause more damage than the original lie.”
She released an emotional chuckle while planting her hands on her hips. “Oh, dear God, if I have to hear another story about how picture-perfect your life was, I think I’m going to puke.”
Carly just didn’t get it. Her paranoia was off the radar. “Carly, please stop playing these games to divert attention from my question to something else. Your life is in danger, Dad’s life is in danger, and you’re putting my kids’ lives in danger. For what? For who? I’m not asking you anymore. Tell me.”
“Tell me?” Her chest heaved as her right eye twitched. I thought she might start hyperventilating. “No one…I mean no one will ever have the right to direct me to do anything. You know about my past, and for you to stand there with your fancy education like some smug bitch and order me to do anything…well, you’ve got some nerve, Alex. If your father wasn’t so special, I would walk out of here and never return.”
“We should be so lucky.” The words spilled out before I thought through the possible impact.
With makeup smeared across her fiery face, she parted her lips to speak, but she paused—as if blood flow to the part of her brain that controlled speech had just been shut off. She clutched at her purse.
“You are Mr. Troutt’s daughter, right?”
I could see a nurse in purple scrubs approaching me from the hallway off to my right, but I couldn’t take my gaze off Carly. Her intensity was redlining.
“Carly, I’ve tried everything, and whether you’re doing it intentionally or it’s just part of your natural personality, you’re taking everything very personally. We’re not getting anywhere. Will you please open up and share with me what is going on? For Dad, for the kids…and yes, for you.”
Two more audible breaths as her quivering chin jutted out. “Alex…”
She stopped there and continued to seethe.
“Alex, that’s your name.” I hadn’t noticed the nurse pulled up next to us. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but—”
I kept my focus on the trembling mess in front of me. “Carly, detectives at the crime scene said they would meet you here at the hospital. And while I’ve restrained myself so far, I’m going to have to get more involved and call in resources to work this case from a federal level.”
I purposely kept Raul and the DEA out of my statement. I didn’t want to give her any insight into my next move.
“You don’t give a fuck about me,” she hissed while shaking her head. “And you can bring in the US Attorney General, for all I care. It doesn’t change what happened. We are the victims, dammit. And you refuse to acknowledge it.”
“This is insane. But I guess if you won’t willingly share what you know, you’ll be taken into custody and forced to share what you know. You’ll have to get a lawyer. It will be expensive, but over time, you will break and they will get their information. And frankly, based upon what I’m seeing, where there’s smoke there’s fire—which means you are involved in illegal activities. You will go to jail. Given your record, the prison sentence won’t be brief or easy.” I leaned closer. “Is any of this resonating with you?”
Shaking her head, Carly turned to the nurse, but she didn’t seem to really see her. Then, as if her arm were attached to a slingshot, she hurled a fist toward my jaw. On pure instinct, I swung my arm to block her attempt, then hunched lower and began to fire a counterpunch, but I somehow halted my fist inches before it connected with her jaw.
A hand waved in between us. “Ladies,” the nurse said. “I’m sure we can talk this out.”
Carly didn’t say a word, and I remained silent, my eyes drawn to the spindly blue veins protruding from her neck. She looked inside Dad’s room, then she turned back to me and threw her purse over her shoulder. “You have no idea.” She jabbed her finger at my face. “And what you think you’re doing here will only get you killed.”
Before I could respond, she flipped on a heel and walked toward the exit.
I thought about going after her, but I had no cuffs on me. I glanced around, hoping I’d spot a security guard.
“Alex,” the nurse said again.
“I’m sorry. You’ve been standing there this entire time. We’ve got a lot going on. What do you need?”
“Your father. He just woke up and was asking for his two lovely ladies.” She walked around me and I followed her back into the room.
“There’s my special agent.” With his bed lifted to more of a sitting position, Dad actually cracked a smile while sipping from a straw.
I tried to match his smile as I approached his bedside. “How are you doing, Dad?” I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
He swatted a hand. “I’m fine. All of this hullabaloo is ridiculous. I’ve cut myself shaving worse than this little nick,” he said, pointing at the bandage wrapping his head.
He paused, then attempted to lean forward and look behind me. “Where did my beauty go? Don’t tell me, she’s on the hunt for a coffee.”
Nurse Angie was milling about in the room and approached his bed from the other side, her eyes finding mine for a split second.
“Mr. Troutt, how are those ice chips going down?”
“Alex, you’re just standing there.” His eyes shifted between me and Nurse Angie. “What’s going on? Where’s Carly?”
“Dad, she left.”
“Left to go where?”
“She didn’t say.”
He set down his cup and leaned back. “Did the two of you get into this shit again?”
“I only want to know what’s going on so I can help. I’m wired to protect and I can’t…I won’t let anything happen to the kids, or you either, Dad.”
His cheery mood had evaporated as his lips pressed together.
<
br /> The nurse looked my way, then back to Dad. “Mr. Troutt, you need to stay calm. Family dynamics are never easy, but life goes on. So, the best thing you can do for your daughter, for anyone who cares about you is to ignore all of this emotional stuff and be selfish. Relax, enjoy the bedside service, and if you’re lucky, you’ll get to go home tomorrow.”
He just stared straight ahead.
The cadence of the beeping heart monitor increased, and I saw the nurse watching the machine, which showed his pulse at 85 and rising.
“Mr. Troutt, you really need to listen to instructions. Your health is too important.”
“Ahh,” he muttered with his arms crossed.
“I’ll watch after him,” I said.
The nurse left the room, and I took a seat. Dad lowered the bed and turned on his side, away from me. I wasn’t offended. I was just glad he’d stopped his rant. It was apparent that he finally listened to his body. After a couple of recovery breaths, I pulled out my phone and traded text messages with Archie.
He said the kids had watched some TV, then gone to bed. Corey had just shown up. Teresa, again, was out late.
I huffed out a breath. I knew I had to find time for my friend. Her daughter’s death was something she had never brought up to me. And what about this debt collector who showed up at the house?
Archie fired back another text.
Did Carly ever open up?
Me: Hell no. It’s all about her. She’s hiding something. We had a fight and she just took off. I can’t tell if Dad knows or not.
Archie: What’s next???
I thought I could hear Dad snoring. I went back to the phone.
Me: DEA – Raul. Probably a call with Boston. U got any ideas?
Archie: Bolivar. He’s our best lead. And Cynthia knows something. I need more time with her.
Me: Agreed.
Archie: Hold on...Cynthia calling. I’ll get back to u.
It was almost two a.m. Why would she be calling Archie at that hour? Was there something brewing on the big item she hinted at to Archie? From an entirely different perspective, maybe she couldn’t resist the blowhard any longer. It could be what he’s been dreaming about for days—the booty call. While Archie had shown a few moments of surprising sensitivity and, dare I say, maturity, he wasn’t my type. In fact, he’d be the last guy in the last group of guys I would ever consider.
The Alex Troutt Thrillers: Books 4-6 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set Book 2) Page 18
