14. CONAN
Chapter fourteen
S tudying my Jane Doe’s face as I played, I could have sworn her eyes opened. I jumped to my feet and leaned over her bed to see if she was awake. But no, her eyes were shut tight. Frustrated, I’d plopped back down into the chair, which gave a loud scuff, and heaved a sigh. The song, “Say Something” by A Great Big World, came to mind, so I began playing the notes. I loved its discordant melody, but in my version, I sang that I was not giving up on her, hoping she’d get the message. Just as I was finishing the song, one of the nurses reminded me that visiting hours were over and that I needed to leave.
After strumming the last chord of my evening set, I packed up my guitar and made my way out of the ICU. This was my last day off. The previous two days—during both the morning and evening visiting hours—I’d sat here in my sleeping beauty’s room, watching her as I played and hoping she would awaken. I had developed quite the following among not only the ICU patients and staff but also the police officers assigned to watch over Jane Doe. Damn, did I hate calling her that. I was eager for her to regain consciousness so I could learn more about her—find out her name. She’d been here and unconscious for nine days, and I was beginning to wonder if she’d ever wake up.
I hadn’t talked to Atticus in a few days, so I headed over to the ED on my way out to see if he had any news regarding her ties to the Volkovs. The familiar chaos hit me as soon as I badged open the automatic doors that separated the rest of the hospital from the ED.
Bethany spotted me as soon as I entered, her eyes brightening despite her obvious fatigue from a long shift. Her dark hair was staging a playful escape from her ponytail, sticking out around her face. “Hey Conan, how’s your mysterious lady doing?” she called out, leaning against the nurses’ station.
I shrugged, sliding my guitar case onto a nearby chair. “She’s the same. I’ve been playing some guitar for her, hoping it might spark something to get her to wake up.”
Bethany’s eyes sparkled with mischief, a smile playing on her lips. “A guitar serenade, huh? You’re really into this Jane Doe, I see. I’ve never known you to get so infatuated with a patient before. What gives?” She laughed. “Sounds like someone’s got a bit of a crush.”
A flush crept up my neck, a rarity for me. “Nah, it’s nothing like that. It’s just that…she’s been alone for too long. No one’s come looking for her. It’s messed up. She’s the first Jane Doe who hasn’t been found after a day or so, y’know? Feels shitty to leave her all alone like that. ”
In truth, I was captivated by her. It wasn’t only that she was gorgeous; it was also the unexplained circumstances surrounding her.
“Sure, sure.” Bethany chuckled, pushing off from the counter. “Whatever you say, big guy. I’ve just never seen you this hooked on a patient—or any woman for that matter. Well, except for that momentary crush you had on Sam,” she said, smirking. Bethany was an expert at harassing me.
I cracked a smile, uncomfortable with how close to home her words hit. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, right? By the way, have you seen Atticus?” I asked, changing the subject before Bethany could dig any deeper.
She glanced at her watch and then back up at me. “Should be done soon. I think he’s wrapping up with a patient in room six.”
Before I could take a step in that direction, Bethany stopped me. “Hey Conan, did you hear the good news yet?”
I raised an eyebrow, curious. “What’s up?”
“Samantha’s moving to the day shift next week. We’ll actually get to see her in the daylight for a change!”
A smile broke across my face. “Wow, that’s awesome. We should all go out and celebrate. Grab dinner or something.”
Bethany’s eyes sparkled. “That’s a great idea! I’ll text Sam now.” With that, she whipped out her phone and started tapping away.
I left her to it and headed toward the clinical workstation, where I spotted Atticus leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head. He seemed lost in thought, his eyes narrowed in concentration.
“Hey, Atticus,” I said, interrupting his contemplation. He looked up, tilting his head slightly in curiosity.
“Conan, what’s up? ”
I leaned against the workstation and asked in a low voice, “Heard anything new from the FBI or Tacoma PD? Or maybe something from Colton about Viktor Volkov or the Volkovi Notchi?”
Colton, Atticus’s close friend from his time in the Navy, had helped rescue Sam from Viktor’s kidnapping plot back in December. If anyone could squeeze information out of law enforcement, it was him.
Atticus straightened up, resting his arms on the desk. “Actually, yeah. Colton called me yesterday. The Volkov estate was sold a few days ago—on the day of Jane Doe’s break-in. The private deal listed the property as now being owned by a trust, with some New York City socialite as the beneficiary and an attorney up in Seattle as the trustee. Seems a little too coincidental, don’t you think?”
“The day after her wreck, huh?” I mused, grazing my thumb over my lower lip. “That timing doesn’t sit right with me either. Could our Jane Doe be the woman from New York?”
“I wouldn’t think so. If she owned the place, why would she break in and run from the police? That doesn’t make sense,” Atticus said, his eyes narrowing. “But I don’t believe in coincidences. Something’s definitely off about the whole thing.”
I nodded, an icy knot of apprehension forming deep within my gut. “Do you think Jane Doe might be tied to the Volkovi Notchi?”
“It’s a possibility we can’t ignore,” he said, drumming his fingers on the desk. “I know you’ve taken a close interest in her and have been spending a lot of time with her, Conan. Just be careful, all right? She’s a patient, first and foremost, and brain injuries can make things…complicated. Especially if she’s got a troubled past or dangerous ties.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “I get it, man. I’m keeping it professional. But damn, she’s been there alone for days. No one’s come looking for her even with all the press pushing out her pictures. It’s tearing me up.”
Atticus sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know, and I’m not saying don’t care. Just…watch your step. She’ll be in a delicate place emotionally when she wakes up, and if she’s connected to the Volkovi, it could spell trouble. We don’t need more of that, especially not with Samantha’s history. She’s still having nightmares about what happened. Her therapist has been great at helping her rein in her panic attacks, but she doesn’t need a setback.”
I clenched my jaw, thinking about the risks. “Understood. But I can’t just walk away from her, Atticus. No one should be that alone.”
“Yeah, I agree. For all we know, she could have gotten herself into some trouble with the Volkovi. They could be looking to do her harm. Who knows?”
“On a lighter note,” I said, “while I was playing for her the last couple of days, she had some rapid eye movements, and her face was twitching a bit. I could have sworn she even opened her eyes for a second. I think she might be close to waking up. Hopefully, she’ll be able to tell us something about herself or the Volkovi soon.”
Atticus raised his eyebrows, his lips curving into a cautious smile. “That’s promising. Keep me posted, okay? Oh, and make sure to keep your eyes open, little brother.”
I pushed off from the counter and headed toward the chair where I’d left my guitar. “Always do,” I said over my shoulder.
Grabbing my guitar case, I slung it over my shoulder and pulled the strap tight against my back. As I walked past Atticus, I added, “I’m heading out. Tell Sam I said hello and we need to get together soon for dinner.”
“Will do. Have a good night,” Atticus said, giving me a nod and turning his attention back to the computer screen.
“Night,” I called out as I headed toward the exit.