When they arrived at the hospital, Kara showed her badge to the intake nurse and asked for an update on the victims from the construction site. The nurse checked her computer. "Larry Russo is in surgery. Robert Torres and Will Baxter were treated and released. Anthony Perola has been admitted and is being treated for burns and smoke inhalation. He's on the second floor."
"What about James Cooper?" she asked.
The nurse's expression turned sympathetic. "James Cooper was pronounced dead twenty minutes ago."
She let out a breath. James Cooper was dead. He hadn't been as lucky as Samantha Barkley, although maybe she couldn't call Samantha lucky, since she was still in a coma.
"Is anyone from Mr. Cooper's family here?" she asked.
"You can check the burn ward on the second floor. That's where he was taken upon arrival, where Mr. Perola is now."
"Thanks." They made their way to the elevator, and she jabbed at the button in frustration. If they'd been able to find the café bomber before now, James Cooper wouldn't be dead.
"It isn't your fault," Tyler said.
She shot him a dark look. "That sentiment has never made me feel better."
"You're right. But even if it doesn't make you feel better, it's still true."
"We need to work faster."
"We're working as fast as we can, and you know that."
"Aren't you angry?" she asked in frustration.
"It's a waste of energy. I'm focusing on what we need to ask Mr. Perola, if he's able to speak to us."
"You're right. We don't have time for emotion." Despite her words, she was still feeling pissed off with herself as they got on the elevator. She hated to fail, and this felt like failure. But the only way to turn things around was to find the bomber.
After checking with the nurse's station, they were taken to Anthony Perola's room. He appeared to be in his late forties, with bandaged arms and minor burns and cuts on his face. His eyes were closed, and he had oxygen tubes in his nose.
"Is he asleep?" she asked the nurse.
The man's eyes opened at her words.
"Just a few minutes," the nurse said. "He needs to rest."
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I'm Agent Reid. This is Agent Brennan. We're investigating the explosion. Can you tell me what happened right before the bomb went off?"
"We were on the fourth floor," he said, his voice raspy. "James wanted to look at the electrical panel one more time because the elevator had shorted out on our way up. The backup system had worked, but he was concerned, and so was the electrical contractor. That had never happened before. Larry went to get something, and James went into the closet, and the next thing I knew, I was on my back, and there were ceiling tiles falling on my head and fire and smoke, and I couldn't see anything. I couldn't hear anything either." He paused, licking his dry lips. "I think someone was screaming, but I don't know. I started crawling, and I ended up in a stairwell, and the next thing I knew, there was a firefighter there, and he got me out of the building."
"Why didn't you go into the electrical closet with Mr. Cooper?" she asked.
"It wasn't my area. I did the plumbing. How is everyone else doing? No one will tell me anything."
She didn't want to tell him either. Fortunately, the nurse stepped forward. "That's enough for now," she said firmly. "You can talk more later."
"I need to know how they are," Anthony protested.
"The doctors are doing everything they can," the nurse told Anthony.
He looked to her for confirmation, and she went along with the lie. "Everything they can," she said.
They walked out of the room and into the hallway. She heard voices coming from the waiting room, and she saw Whitney Holden talking to a gray-haired woman. They were both crying.
Whitney got to her feet and came forward when she saw them. "James is dead," she said, her face pale, her eyes and nose red from crying. "That bomb killed him."
