Page 63
“I want to talk to him,” Dean said. “That’s all.”
Josie was one hundred percent certain talking was not the only thing he intended to do to Holmes. “I’d advise you both to turn around and leave. If Carter actually needs stitches, go to the nearest urgent care but do not take another step inside this building. Do not take it on yourselves to speak with Dr. Holmes. I know you want justice for your mother and your wife but going off half-cocked like this is only going to get you in trouble.”
“Serious trouble,” Gretchen agreed.
Dean’s body vibrated with tension. “What could be worse than losing my mother and my wife in one week?”
“I’m sure you don’t want to find out,” Josie said. “You’re not thinking clearly. Go home with Carter. You’ve got two young nieces who just lost their aunt and their grandmother in one week. They need you right now. Both of you.”
That seemed to penetrate the cloud of anger radiating from Dean. His jaw relaxed. Sadness crept into his eyes.
“Come on, man,” Carter said. “She’s right. I have to get home to my kids and you have to pull yourself together.”
Reluctantly, Dean let his brother turn him around and guide him out to the parking lot.
Josie and Gretchen went back to the security desk. “Let us know if they come back,” Gretchen told the guard.
Thirty-Seven
“Out of the way!”
Josie’s back slammed against the wall as she narrowly avoided a nurse pushing an empty gurney down the hall at warp speed. Across from her, Gretchen braced one arm against a linen cart to keep her balance. “I guess if we get run down, we’re in the right place,” she muttered.
Josie looked both ways before stepping into the middle of the hall. “If we get run down, we’re going to be waiting hours to be seen.”
Dr. Jacob Holmes stood behind the nurses’ station, eyes fixed on a computer screen. Another nurse rushed past, barking out something. Holmes didn’t look up. Josie glanced around, noticing it was only the nursing staff running around like their asses were on fire. Holmes and another doctor were glued to their computers. She’d already seen a third doctor going from patient to patient at a leisurely pace.
“Dr. Holmes,” Josie said. “We’d like to speak with you when you have a moment.”
He gave them a once-over, not even bothering with a polite smile. “As you can see, I don’t have a moment. I’m on a double shift, after which I’ll need some sleep. Whatever it is will have to wait until Sunday.”
That was almost two days away.
Gretchen laughed harshly. “I don’t think so, Doc.”
“Excuse me?”
“We’ve got a killer to catch, so you’re going to find a moment in your busy schedule for our questions.”
With a huff, he stepped out from behind the nurses’ station. “I don’t see how that concerns me. The patients here need me. I don’t have time for this.”
“You do have to take a dinner break at some point though,” Gretchen told him.
He had no response. As he started walking away, Josie said, “You don’t have time to talk about Sylvia West?”
That stopped him in his tracks. Turning back, he said, “I saw it on the news. That she’d been killed.”
“Nice try,” Josie said. “You knew she’d been killed in the fire when you spoke with my sister on Sunday. Odd that you didn’t mention that Sylvia had been your wife’s doula.”
“It didn’t seem relevant.” He moved out of the way of a radiology tech pushing a patient down the hall. “That was a long time ago, but yes. She was my wife’s doula for all three of our children.”
“What was your relationship with Sylvia?”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure why you’re here or why you’re interested in my relationship with Sylvia. I told you. She was my wife’s doula when our children were born. That was a very long time ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Spinning on his heel, he began walking briskly away from them.
“Charming,” Gretchen muttered.
