Page 72 of Her Only Hero

Finally, I could drive my old familiar car. Unfortunately, the repairs may have cost more than the car was worth. Who in the hell would do such a thing? And then I thought of David Moreno. Could he have done it? Most likely. But why? When he was conscious, I’d hand him my car repair bill.

I still needed answers about David’s injury and how I had caused it with my warning shot. I couldn’t wait any longer for Patrick to call.

I drove to St. Eugene’s Hospital and parked in the front lot. Some of Patrick’s gumption was rubbing off on me. I switched off the ignition, clipped my work badge onto my collar, and marched inside. I prepared mentally. My plan would be to go in and ask to speak with the nurse caring for David. Certainly, she would know the nature of the wound since she was dressing it. I moved through the lobby and rode the elevator to the fifth floor, retracing the steps I took with Patrick the day before. At the end of the hall, as expected, I saw a police officer sitting outside the room on a chair. He had a smooth face, fine lips, and prominent cheekbones—a different guy from the day before.

I took a controlled breath. I couldn’t believe I was doing this.

“Hello, Officer…”

“Evans,” he said and stood.

“Officer Evans.” I said, trying to sound like I belonged there. “I’m June Harber, forensic scientist on this case.”

“It didn’t take long for you to get here,” he said.

“Take long? How do you mean?”

“Moreno’s regained consciousness.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” I said, acting like I knew. The lie didn’t sit well with me. “Have you seen David’s nurse recently?” I was relieved David had awakened, but his alertness created a whole new scenario. I hadn’t expected to have to actually speak with him. My mind reeled. Would he recognize me? And what would he say if he did? “I have a question to ask his nurse.”

“You’re in luck. She is in there with the doctor. You can go right in.”

My heartbeat drummed in my ears. My simple plan instantly became complicated. Should I enter the room or make an excuse to leave?

“Okay, thank you,” I said and pushed open the door. The decision was made, but what the devil was I doing? I had crossed boundaries. I didn’t do stuff like this. With trepidation, I entered quietly and froze in place. The nurse and doctor hadn’t noticed me yet.

“Have you checked his personal possessions? Is it in his wallet?” The doctor opened the locker at the side of the room. And then I recognized him, and his cologne. It was Dr. Crawford, Dr. Fulthorpe’s partner.

“He didn’t arrive with any personal possessions,” the nurse said. “I just gave him the pain meds you prescribed. If he wakes up again, I’ll ask him what medications he’s taking.”

Dr. Crawford shut the locker. “Let’s repeat his bloodwork before we give him another unit of blood.” He looked atme before he walked out. I thought there was a moment of recognition, but perhaps he couldn’t quite place seeing me from the other day.

“Can I help you?” the nurse said.

“I’m June Harber with forensics. I have a quick question, if that’s okay?”

I glanced at David. His eyes were closed.

“The doctor just walked out; do you want to speak with him instead?”

“I’m sure you can help,” I blurted out.

“I’ll try,” she said and took off her glasses, leaving them to hang on a chain around her neck.

“I appreciate that, thanks. I’d like to ask about Mr. Moreno’s shoulder wound. Could you tell me, was he shot anteriorly or posteriorly?”

“I can tell you the nastiest injury is in the front,” she said.

My stomach twisted. My tiniest bit of consolation to shooting an unarmed man was I hadn’t meant to actually hit him. I had to reconcile with the fact of what I had done.

“Excuse me, one other thing,” I said. “Do you mind me asking what Dr. Crawford wanted with his personal possessions?”

“He was looking for a medications list.”

“Oh,” I said. “I actually saw his personal items the other day, before the ambulance brought him here, and I didn’t see a list, just to let you know.”

I heard a rustling sound from the bed.

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