Page 40 of Her Final Hours
McKenzie looked that way and took off to find anything that could get him through the next six hours. His mind had been a blur wading through the case files, waiting on the autopsy, and trying to get an ID on the deceased man.
Entering a room to his right, he almost slipped on the wet floor. “Sonofabitch!” There was no sign to indicate that maintenance or cleaning was being done. However, there was an “Out of Order” sign on the machine. “Great, just fucking great.” He stuck his head out and called to Parker further down the hall, informing him about the malfunctioning machine.
“I thought you said this was working?”
“It was an hour ago. There’s another near the entrance.”
He grumbled, exiting with sticky crap on the bottom of his shoe. He could feel the tackiness of it sticking to the highlypolished floors, making a squishing sound. “Oh, good Lord, why me,” he muttered.
Entering the lobby, he barked at one of the porters. “Your damn coffee machine isn’t working, and there is a leak. You might want to get someone on it, pronto.”
Continuing, he went over to a machine. McKenzie glanced off to his right and observed several people entering; some tracked mud and snow inside, ignoring the sign to wipe their feet. He took a few coins from his pocket and hit a button. As the sludge masquerading as caffeine squirted out like diarrhea, he glanced at another imbecile ignorant of the sign. Annoyed, he confronted him. “Hey pal,” he pointed to the sign. “You’re trailing snow and mud in here.”
The man shrugged indifferently, tapping his leg where there was a key card hanging as if the fact that he worked there made a difference. McKenzie shook his head in frustration at the lack of consideration.
As he turned back to the machine, which appeared to have stopped after filling his drink only halfway, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out along with a few more coins while shaking the machine with the other hand, then brought the phone to the crook of his neck. “Aye, laddie, this better be bloody urgent as I’m about to bring the hammer down on this vending machine.”
“McKenzie, where are you now?” Noah asked.
“Elizabethtown. The hospital.”
“What are you doing there?”
“Oh, you know, just making sure you’ve dotted your I’s and crossed your T’s.”
He heard Noah sigh. “Listen, we’ve got a name for the deceased guy. Joseph Collins. He was a nurse at the hospital. Payton Scott’s mother recognized him. She said he used to workover at Saranac Medical Center. He was a friend of a friend. Find out what you can and check on the girl.”
“I already have. She’s dead to the world. I mean, sedated.” Distracted, he gave the machine another kick. “Come on, you bastard.”
“McKenzie.”
“I heard you the first time. Check on the girl. Find out what I can about this Collins guy. I got it.”
“I’m thinking that’s how he got his hands on the drugs found in the girl.”
“I highly doubt they keep that in stock here.”
“Find out.”
McKenzie assured Noah that Parker was present with the girl and he could handle it, but to hurry back as McKenzie was no babysitter.
Finally managing to get a cup’s worth of brown goo out of the machine, he sniffed, took a sip, and raised his eyebrows. “Not bad. Tasted worse,” he said to one of the visitors watching him like he had a mental health condition.
As he returned to the girl’s room, he noticed Parker’s head was down, seemingly distracted again. Growing increasingly agitated, McKenzie approached him, saying, “Didn’t I tell you to pay attention?” However, as he drew closer, he noticed blood and hurriedly rushed to Parker’s side. “No, no, no, kid, c’mon,” he said. “Don’t you…” It was too late. Horror struck him when he saw that Parker’s throat had been brutally slit. McKenzie dropped his coffee.
Desperate to locate the girl and fearing the worst, McKenzie swiftly entered the room, only to find it empty. Panic surged as he quickly reached for his radio to call for backup. But before he could speak, the radio crackled with a garbled transmission.Shit!Right then, McKenzie’s attention was drawn to muddy footprints leading away from the room. Recalling the messy guy hehad confronted earlier, McKenzie sprinted, pulling out his service weapon.
Bursting through a set of doors, McKenzie followed the trail of muddy footprints, his heart pounding with adrenaline. He dashed through hospital corridors, determined to apprehend the guy before the girl could be harmed. The urgency of the situation heightened as he heard a commotion up ahead.
Rounding a corner, McKenzie was confronted by a chaotic scene. A doctor lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of blood spreading around her. Several nurses were rushing to her aid. The girl remained in her bed, seemingly untouched, as if someone had abandoned her in the hallway. McKenzie swiftly approached, assessing the severity of the doctor’s wounds. With urgency in his voice, he asked, “Which way did he go?”
Grimacing, a nurse pointed in the direction the assailant had fled. “That way,” she managed to gasp out. McKenzie nodded, his focus unwavering as he hurriedly rose to his feet. He followed the indicated path.
Several patients pointed, even as he noticed a persistent presence of muddy footprints leading him forward. He became acutely aware of his footsteps echoing, the urgency of the chase fueling his drive.
Exiting through a back door, McKenzie entered a desolate parking lot, snowflakes falling heavily around him. He bent down and scooped up a keycard; the name on it was Joseph Collins. He glanced left and right, scanning the area for any movement. In the distance, a vehicle’s headlights cut through the falling snow. Realizing the potential escape route, McKenzie sprinted toward his car parked nearby.
With the intense cold, the engine coughed.
