After a few beats, Dario pulled his hand from Donna’s mouth, waved the gun in front of her, and then walked lightly toward a window close to the barn door. The cloudy film on the glass made it difficult to see outside. He peered harder. No movement. Had he imagined the noise? It could have been an animal passing through, he supposed.
All clear, time to go take care of business.
Dario drove to the hospital. He hated hospitals—the smell of antiseptic. Sick people everywhere. Most of them are better off dead. That’s how Jonathan Milbourne will be in minutes. Unless he gave up the location of the drugs, and the girl within the first few seconds. No, that wasn’t true. Even if he gave the details Dario needed, he’d still kill him. That’s how Marco wanted it. If he could retrieve the drugs and kill the girl, Marco might spare his life. It was worth a shot.
He’d go back and kill the deputy later if need be. Well, he’d kill her either way. But the woman’s prayer worked temporarily. He spared her for now. Just in case he still needed her.
Dario parked his dark SUV in the hospital parking lot, by the emergency entrance, and then glanced at the time on the dashboard. It was almost seven o’clock. Shift change. Would that be enough distraction to get in there unnoticed, find Milbourne, kill him, and get out?
He watched as a couple of women dressed in scrubs walked out of the building to their cars parked on the south side of the parking lot.
He moved his vehicle to that side and waited for an opportunity. Unsure what the opportunity would be, he’d figured he’d know it when he saw it. Once he cut the engine, he looked for cameras. Surely even a small hospital like this had security. If they caught his license plates, it wouldn’t matter since they’d been stolen.
Dario snagged his pistol with the silencer from the passenger seat and tucked it into his slim messenger bag. Then, he pulled his baseball cap low on his head.
He exited his vehicle and made his way to the hospital’s clinic entrance. No security team in sight. As he made his way through the hall lined with glass windows on one side and reception desks on the other, he came to the lab. The nurse in front of him darted into the lab waiting area and then used the badge clipped to her waistband to enter the secure door behind the desk. Did that badge get her into all areas of the hospital or just the lab? He needed one of those.
It was quiet in the hospital. The few people who milled around paid no attention to him. Small town lax.
A short, middle-aged woman dressed in black slacks and high heels slowly walked toward him. She could barely see over the stack of boxes she carried. Her badge was pinched between her fingers. Easy target. As he stepped past her, he tapped one box just enough that they all tumbled down. She teetered on one of her spike heels, and he caught her arm to steady her.
“Whoa, sorry. You good?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you. I guess I should have made two trips,” she replied with a laugh.
He released her arm and bent over to pick up the boxes for her, then he restacked them in her outstretched arms while swiping her badge. He stuffed it into his pocket. It was almost too easy.
Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked away.
Now, to find Milbourne.
He wandered down a few halls, not needing the badge tucked in his pocket until he came to a double set of wooden doors with no windows. The doors weren’t marked, so he had no clue what was beyond them. Slight beeping noises and the stench of alcohol wafted in the air, strongest near the doors. He’d bet it was the ICU or patient beds at the least. He turned down the hall opposite the doors but kept glancing over his shoulder, hoping someone would walk through them so he could see what lay beyond them.
About halfway down the hall, he came across a small waiting area with four chairs and a small table stationed between two of them. He sat and snagged a magazine from the table, opened it, and pretended to read as he watched the doors, which piqued his curiosity.
A guy wearing a tool belt and carrying a ladder came from the same direction he had come, walked past him a few steps, and then slipped through the small waiting area next to where he sat. He wore a lightweight blue hoodie with the hospital logo. The guy set his ladder up and then dug around in one of the large boxes lying on the floor. The flooring in that area was ripped up, and the trim had been pulled from the walls. A second maintenance guy carrying a toolbox walked past him and into the room. This distraction—a remodeling job— explained why the waiting area chairs were in the hallway and was exactly what he needed to go unnoticed. Noisy and busy.
He returned his attention to the doors he’d been watching.
The noise in the small room behind him went silent, then he heard a door click shut. While still seated, he leaned around the corner of the doorway to see what was taking place. The room was empty, and nobody manned the reception window. A blue, lightweight hoodie dangled over a rung of the ladder. Dario reached around and snatched the hoodie, quickly rose to his feet, and slipped the garment on. Then he grabbed the small toolbox lying on the floor next to the ladder to use as a prop. Swiftly, he moved toward the double doors he’d been watching. With his new uniform, he should go unnoticed. He used the badge he’d snagged from the woman and keyed his way through the doors. Patient rooms. Perfect.
Once he passed the nurse’s station, he slowed his pace, moving his head from side to side, peeking in the rooms, looking for his target. Most of the room doors were only partially open, making it difficult to see who was inside. When he turned the corner, he glimpsed a uniformed police officer sitting on a chair next to a patient room door near the end of the hall. It had to be Milbourne’s room. What would the chances be that two patients in this small hospital would require police protection?
The young officer’s attention focused on the phone in his hand. He scrolled and scrolled with this thumb. He looked bored.
After a while, the officer tilted his head up and looked from side to side, then he stood and began walking toward him.
Dario pulled his baseball cap down to conceal his face.
Where was this guy going? Why would he leave Milbourne unattended? Idiot.
The officer took only a few steps before he spun and headed back in the direction from which he had come. Just stretching his legs, Dario presumed.
“Just get this done,” Dario whispered to himself.
He moved down the hall.
“I got a call. The faucet was dripping. I need to look at it,” Dario informed the young officer as he fondled the badge in his hand, hoping the guy would notice he had it, but wouldn’t actually look at it to verify it belonged to him.
