Chapter 5 #2
“Dr. Hodges, life comes first. We know that, sir. Would it be possible for me to see him? I know I can’t question him. I’d just like a second to stand by his side,” Grant said.
Hodges frowned. He probably wondered what the hell Grant thought he could get from looking at the man. But he smiled suddenly.
Of course. George Maynard was famous as a whistleblower; while someone obviously despised him, most of the world had him on a high pedestal.
Maybe Hodges just thought Grant wanted the chance to say he’d been in his presence as he began his long crawl toward a semblance of health.
“I’ll accompany you,” Hodges said.
Two other nurses were in the room where the man now lay, attaching liquid bags to an IV system and checking over his bandages. And despite the fact he appeared to be completely out, they were checking his pillow to make sure that his head rested gently upon it.
Grant carefully moved toward the bed as the nurses moved away. Dr. Hodges watched him as he stood next to the bed.
He took the man’s hand, his back toward the doctor, and closed his eyes. He could feel the life in the man.
And while George Maynard wasn’t dead or even almost dead, Grant could see into the man’s mind.
And while George Maynard might have been completely sedated, his hand made a slight movement within Grant’s.
And somehow, they were communicating. It wasn’t words, but he could feel two things—the man’s gratitude that he was alive and his frustration.
Shadows …
There had been a shadow, a giant shadow, when he’d tried to go into his house. And since then, other than the pain and agony he’d suffered, there had been nothing but darkness.
“Get well, my friend,” Grant said quietly aloud.
He thought he felt the slightest movement of George’s hand within his again.
And he was glad to feel the strangest sense that, yes, this man was a fighter. And he was going to survive.
Grant turned back to Dr. Hodges, nodding his thanks and heading out the door.
“We will have people here, sir, you know. And they will be verifying any hospital employee who seeks to enter Mr. Maynard’s room—”
“Yes, I know. Just as they are verifying those who care for Cecil Cartwright,” Hodges said. He inclined his head slightly with a shrug. “Does this make it harder on our doctors, nurses, and orderlies? Yes. But we understand. And we’d have nothing happen to these men under our care!”
“Thank you,” Grant told him, leaving the ICU room and heading out. He knew that Cecil Cartwright was just a few doors down in the same section.
Hospital workers at the desks in the center of the intensive care section looked at him, but one of the cops on duty in the area nodded to him and pointed to a door.
He didn’t go into Cecil Cartwright’s room.
The man had no idea who had hacked his brakes.
But he looked through the glass. Cartwright was breathing. He was connected to a few machines, but Grant could see that he was alive.
While there was breath, there was hope.
He headed back to the waiting room, where Ainsley Drake was seated between Shelly and Percy. Shelly had been speaking gently to her, but the trio looked up as Grant returned to the waiting room.
Ainsley jumped to her feet.
“George? George is—”
“Sedated,” Grant told her. “They’re going to keep him so for a while. He was very badly hurt, but he’s going to make it, they believe. But, for his benefit, they’re going to keep him sedated and quiet.”
Ainsley began to sob silently. Shelly comforted her.
“He’s going to make it, Ainsley. It’s just going to take time. It’s so, so hard, but patience is what you’re going to need right now.”
“I’m not leaving here. I’m not leaving here!” Ainsley said. She looked at them worriedly, as if they could force her to go. “My sister is coming, too. She’ll be with me here.”
“And I have agents out everywhere,” Perry said. “I have the two of you and the local police. I’ll keep Ainsley company for a bit until her sister gets here. I will need to get back, but she’ll be fine. We have agents on twenty-four seven,” he promised.
“Great. Ainsley, be patient,” Shelly said softly.
Ainsley nodded.
“Grant,” Perry said.
“We’ll call you the second we have anything,” Grant promised.
They were walking out when someone else appeared on the ICU floor, emerging from the elevator.
Grant thought he’d seen the attractive young woman somewhere before, but he couldn’t place her at first. She was wearing a tight-fitting knit shirt, a short skirt, and high heels.
Her hair was a platinum bob, her makeup was heavy and pronounced, and she looked as if she was ready for a night out on the town, not a caring hospital visit to a dear friend or loved one.
Then he saw she was traveling with a cameraman, a young fellow of maybe twenty carrying a small camera with a small light, and he knew who the woman had to be—Patricia Norton, the “influencer.”
He might have seen her somewhere before in passing; Ainsley’s sister, Miranda Drake, had brought her name up when they had been discussing people who might be out to get George.
He really wasn’t sure why an influencer who wanted to use the man would want to kill him.
Ainsley had said Patricia would want to kill her—not George.
But, suspect or not, they didn’t need her at the hospital. She couldn’t interview George, and she could interfere with their investigation.
Grant studied her as she strode off the elevator, speaking to the young man who followed a step behind her.
“They’re going to tell me that I can’t talk to him.
But that woman must be here—the one he says he’s going to marry, though God knows why.
She does nothing for him, and he could …
well, with what he did—does—I mean, George is alive!
And I will see him. They can’t stop me forever, I—”
Grant and Shelly were dead set in front of her, so much so that she nearly plowed into Grant.
She stopped, staring at them with a severe frown.
“I have a right to be here!” she announced.
“A right to be in a hospital? Yes, of course, you have a right to come into the hospital. But the doctors have the right to refuse entrance to any patient’s room, and since you’re here to see George Maynard, I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time.”
“Oh, no, no, no. I’ve given George Maynard incredible exposure. I think you just don’t know who I am—” she began.
“An internet influencer,” Shelly told her wearily. “Patricia Norton. No press credentials, so if you’ve just come to interview someone for your personal following, I’m afraid that—”
“You have no right to tell me anything!” Patricia raged in anger. “You’re not the doctor! You’re not—”
“Sorry, we may not be doctors, but we are federal agents,” Grant said. “And we’re asking you to please turn around and leave.”
“You don’t have the right to tell me anything!” Patricia informed them.
Grant knew someone was behind them, and he swung around quickly. Oddly enough, it was someone who had the right to help them.
And Dr. Hodges was angry. He wasn’t the type to go flying off the handle; rather, Grant thought, almost smiling, Hodges was as he had been before, steady and determined.
“Young woman, you are disrupting my floor, my staff, and possibly causing a disruption in the benefit of peace and quiet needed for my patients. You will leave immediately, or I will have you escorted out!” Hodges said flatly.
“Toby!” Patricia snapped. “Get the camera going! Get this horrid disgrace to the free press on video immediately!”
Shelly laughed suddenly. “Oh, Toby! I wouldn’t, seriously—unless you want your camera confiscated.”
“How dare you! You can’t—” Patricia began.
“Actually, we can,” Grant told her. “We should bring you both in on suspicion of attempted murder. It’s been brought to our intention that you’ve threatened people around George Maynard and—”
Toby wasn’t going to be told anything more.
“I’m out of here,” he said quietly to Patricia, heading back into the elevator.
“You! You’ll pay!” Patricia said.
“She’s threatening people again. She might be the one who attempted to murder not just George, but—”
Patricia Norton turned, quickly joining Toby in the elevator and pushing the button.
The door closed, and the two were gone.
They had barely left when there were soft footsteps coming from behind them. They swung around.
Ainsley Drake had come from the waiting room, a worried look of dismay on her face, and Perry Banyan right behind her, with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
She stared at the three of them, her eyebrows raised.
“Relax!” Shelly said sweetly. “It’s all okay.”
“It’s truly okay. Dr. Hodges is looking after his patients,” Grant told her.
“Ainsley, we’re in a hospital. We can’t allow for chaos and yelling and shouting and … well, where we are now …” Perry said. “It’s going to be okay. Please, come on, sit back down,” he said softly.
Ainsley’s gaze rested on Dr. Hodges, and she nodded, swallowing hard, before allowing Perry to walk her back into the waiting room.
Shelly quickly told Dr. Hodges, “Thank you. I’m afraid of the spin and insanity that woman could bring to Mr. Maynard and our efforts to find out who did this to him, and who tried to kill Mr. Cartwright as well.”
“I do have the right to kick people out of here if I find them detrimental to the health of any patient,” Hodges said.
“It’s not my day-to-day, but we have two men within rooms of each other who are in this hospital and on this floor because someone attempted to murder them.
So, yes, of course. Cops and agents are here quietly watching, causing no problems. Someone out to increase their own presence on social media—an influencer—no thank you.
The legitimate news is bad enough these days, and I’m just a medical man, but sometimes, the spin that is put on facts can twist the whole damned globe.
We’re about saving lives here. You don’t need to worry; I’ll inform all the law enforcement here that they’re not to allow that young woman anywhere near my patients—anywhere near this floor, for that matter! ”