Chapter 6 #3
“Good morning, Sheriff. What may I do for you?”
Daniel bit the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t sure if the voice held an edge of sarcasm or if he was projecting his insecurity outward. “I need to contact someone about a threatening note targeting the wife of a senatorial candidate. Can you put me in touch with the proper authority?”
“Of course. Who is the wife?”
“Margaux Simmons of South Carolina.”
Silence stretched across the line.
Daniel pulled the phone away from his ear. The call hadn’t disconnected with poor reception. “She’s…” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. “I need assistance. My office doesn’t deal with this sort of thing.”
“Okay. I’ll be in touch. This number?”
“Yes, please,” Daniel agreed, glad for the no nonsense tone. “Thank you.” He ended the call and headed back to Owen’s room.
The power had been restored, and the floor was calm once again. Until Daniel neared the door. Deputy Chip stood inside. Nurses unhooked the devices from Owen’s body. Dr. Knick made notations on a clipboard.
Daniel froze, knowing the terrible sight that awaited him if he turned his head. His call over the radio had alerted the deputy to trouble. Of course they’d returned. With a deep breath, he braced himself and faced the parents.
Mr. and Mrs. T held each other, sobbing. Their anguished cries were primal.
Daniel couldn’t help them. He couldn’t fix what had happened.
Emma stood next to the pair, dumbfounded, her mouth hanging open and her eyes glassy. “He was…fine…and then…”
Daniel crossed the room. He approached the Thomases.
Mr. T shook his head, shooting him a glaring look.
Daniel felt the sharp sting of the rebuke but didn’t argue. He neared Emma, reaching for her hand and offering a quick squeeze of her fingers. He instilled what comfort he could in the fleeting touch. Had she found resolution with Owen? Peace? Answers?
Dr. Knick and the nurses finished their tasks, pulling the sheet over Owen’s head before leaving the room.
“Sheriff, what do you want to do?” Chip asked.
Daniel was glad the deputy didn’t comment on his out-of-character behavior.
It might not fit the usual mode of operation but comfort was needed for the moment.
For his sake and hers. “Drive the Thomases back to camp and break the news to the others. I need security tapes and any and every statement you can get. Every nurse and doctor must be cleared. Check every badge. The assailant snuck in wearing scrubs with a firearm. The metal detectors have been compromised somewhere.” It was a deadly oversight on his part.
“The building is on lockdown until its cleared. Get Frank here.”
“What about the wife?” his deputy asked.
Daniel’s stomach sank to his ankles. He didn’t have enough man power to be everywhere at all times. “I’ll take over her protection. We need Frank.”
“Yes, sir,” Deputy Chip nodded and left the room.
“No,” Mr. T said, his tone sharp. “Don’t boss us around. You didn’t do a good job controlling this situation. I don’t trust you with ours. We’ll see ourselves home.” With an arm around his wife’s shoulders, he led her from the room.
They shouldn’t be driving under emotional duress. Mr. T’s harsh delivery welcomed no argument. Daniel waited until the door shut, not that the hole where the glass should have been offered much privacy. “Follow them. Please.”
Chip nodded and left.
Daniel lowered the sheet covering the body, studying the wound. Owen had no time to react to the kill shot. He’d been executed in cold blood with a callous precision.
Daniel raised the sheet again. “What happened?”
“The power cut. Everything started blaring. I went outside for help. A nurse came in. She shot him. Then she shot at me through the door.”
“She? You’re positive?”
“One hundred percent certain. Petite. Not more than five foot three.”
Stature didn’t eliminate a male assailant but did bring up more questions.
Could a smaller person have overpowered Owen the first time?
The assailant Daniel had chased through the hospital moved quick as lightning.
Speed and secrecy could be the keys to their success.
But he wasn’t a professional profiler. He’d have to give this information to the FBI, too.
He’d focus on Owen. “Before. What did he say? Did you speak? Did he know who attacked him?”
“I learned nothing.” Her voice broke. “I wasted time.”
Daniel shook his head and pulled out his pocket size scripture. “Let’s pray for Owen and promise ourselves to do our best.”
She nodded, sniffing and wiping her face.
Daniel approached the bed, Owen’s body covered with a sheet, and he flipped to the Psalms. “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
“Amen,” Emma murmured. “I need a moment.” She pointed at the restroom.
“I’ll be outside.” And then they’d head to camp and he’d debrief two grieving parents as he opened a murder investigation. He’d let her take as long as she needed to pull herself together. He needed to gather his wits for what came next. But he had work to do.