“This sounds like an easy way for you to ease back into work. I read the report about the shooting at the tow yard. They found the helmet when they found the motorcycle.” He held up his phone with a photo of the helmet.
Lainie took the phone and studied the damage she’d done. There was a perfect crease across the top of the helmet.
“The bad guy got his head jerked back and probably a good scare when the bullet hit. And we might just get DNA from the inside.”
“That’s great to hear.” Lainie handed the phone back. “But you know as well as I do that getting DNA back will take time. I really don’t want that shooter to get away.”
“I’m optimistic that we’ll catch him, and whenever the DNA comes back, it will seal the deal. As far as the woman in San Bernardino goes, contact Shea first thing if they wake her up. You don’t have authorization to conduct an interview. You’re too close.”
Lainie didn’t mind the admonition. It had been so hard to interview Stan in a controlled environment. She wasn’t certain she’d be ableto maintain her control with Benton in real life. It would be much better for an uninvolved detective to do the interview.
She left the chief’s office and went down the hall to the violent crimes’ office. Mike was there and she filled him in on what she planned.
“You’re only one person, and you can only be at the medical center during the day. Is that really effective?” Mike asked.
“I’ll be there during visiting hours. Hospital security told the chief that after visiting hours end, the Critical Care Unit floor is locked down pretty tight. They agree to keep an extra eye on it.”
“How long do you think you can handle being a babysitter?”
“I need to hear what Benton has to say. I can sit tight for a day or two. Call me if you get anything from Bucshon.”
“Of course. I’m heading out to Terminal Island now.”
They left the department together. Mike to his plain car en route to the federal prison and Lainie to her personal car en route home, to pick up a few things to make hospital duty a little more bearable.
She went home, packed a lunch, grabbed her Kindle, and drove to St. Bernardine.
Dr. Hardin was there when she arrived. Chief Mackall had told her that he would alert the hospital staff and the sheriff’s department that she’d be at the hospital for the next few days. Once inside the Critical Care floor, Dr. Hardin met her at the nurses’ station.
“Are you certain her life is in danger?” He seemed a little tense. “So far, no one has shown any interest in her at all, other than the police. We would have been happy if we could notify next of kin.”
“I’m just covering all the bases. It’s obvious that she was a prisoner in the vehicle that crashed. And even though nothing has happened up until now, someone may still appear to finish the job. It won’t hurt to sit here for a couple of days. You were optimistic the other night about bringing her out of the coma in a day or two. Does that still stand?”
He nodded. “Swelling in her brain has decreased appreciably. I’ve been decreasing her medication. We are in the process of reversing the coma. I’ve arranged for a chair to be outside her cubicle for you. I don’t want you inside the cubicle. No excitement or noise that might jolt her awake unexpectedly. It’s better if we manage her rousing slowly and methodically.”
“Understood. Thanks, Doc.”
He introduced her to the two nurses on duty, Cherie and Ava.
Lainie settled in, opening her Kindle to read.
The floor was quiet but for the sound of life-preserving machinery and the Critical Care nurses softly padding from cubicle to cubicle. Since the official waiting room was outside the secured double doors, visitors were not allowed in Critical Care cubicles without a nurse or a doctor accompanying them. There was seldom anyone else in her line of vision.
That changed around five minutes to seven. Hospital visiting hours ended at seven. Lainie stood and stretched, getting ready to call it a night, when the double doors opened. She assumed it would be Ava and Cherie returning. At some point, she hadn’t noticed when, they’d both left the station.
She glanced toward the doors, Kindle under her arm. Instead of the two nurses, three men came walking her way. The man in the middle caught her attention immediately. She’d know him anywhere, even after fifteen years. He was older, somewhat smaller, and his hair was grayer, but the scar on his left cheek still stood out like a tattoo.
Dallas Vine.
CHAPTER 37
Their eyes locked and a progression of emotions crossed Vine’s features: surprise followed by irritation and then recognition.
Lainie recovered from the shock quickly and spoke up first. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing. This is a long way from Long Beach, Officer Jensen.”
“Detective Jensen now. I’m here on official business. Guarding a witness.” Her heart still pounded. She hadn’t seen him in person for at least ten years. He creeped her out now as much as he did back then. He was an evil murderer as far as Lainie was concerned.
