Page 62 of Code Name: Reaper
When the valet approached, I got out and went around to the passenger side. After opening her door, I held out my hand, and she took it. I didn’t let go as we walked to the bank of elevators after stopping by the information desk to find out which floor the ICU was on, nor did I when we exited on the twelfth and approached the nurses’ station.
“I’m here to see Mr. Edmonds,” Amaryllis told her.
“Edmonds.” She looked through the papers in front of her. “He was taken into surgery about twenty minutes ago.”
I squeezed her hand, but before I could say anything else, a woman approached us.
“Are you Ms. Beaudoin?”
“I am.”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve called. My father was taken into emergency surgery.” She motioned us away from the desk and toward the waiting area. “I’m Eleanor, by the way.”
“The surgery?” I prompted, doing my best not to react to her coincidental first name.
“They suspect a brain bleed.”
“I understand,” said Amaryllis. “We won’t keep you from your family.”
Eleanor turned to leave but stopped. “Wait. There were two things he wanted me to tell you. Two words.” She dug a piece of paper from her pocket. “He wasn’t able to explain either, so I hope they mean something to you.” She handed it to Amaryllis, who unfolded it. I glanced over her shoulder and saw “Minerva” and “H. Hyde.”
“H. Hyde?” she asked.
“I wasn’t sure if my dad was saying it like an initial or if he was just trying to get the word out. He was…struggling quite a bit by then.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I hope it helps somehow.”
Amaryllis put her hand on the woman’s arm. “We hope the best for your dad.”
Eleanor motioned to her right. “I should check on him.”
“Of course, and thank you, and please keep us posted on his progress.”
I pressed the call button for the elevator when she walked away.
“Minerva and Hyde,” Amaryllis muttered once we’d gotten on and the doors closed behind us. “Nothing we don’t already know.”
“Maybe, maybe not. The ‘H’ could be significant.”
She didn’t speak again until we were on the main floor. “I should use the restroom first.”
I told her I’d do the same, then meet her in the valet area. While I waited, I sent a text to my father, wondering if either name meant anything to him. He hadn’t answered yet when Amaryllis approached.
“I would like to go by the house, if you don’t mind.”
“I wouldn’t mind at all.” I kept the fact that I was intrigued to myself. That she wanted me to go with her was all that mattered.
Like she had with the hospital, she put the address into the navigation system.
According to the map, the house was located in Newport News’ Hilton neighborhood, about ten miles from the town house where we were staying and another two hours from where we were now. As long as we didn’t hit much traffic, we’d arrive around sunset.
We’d been on the road for several minutes when I reached for her hand. “What was it like, living in that area?”
“Most of the houses, including ours, were modest, but I could walk to Riverside Park, which was nice.”
“And your grandparents?” From the corner of my eye, I saw her smile.
“Salt of the earth. Loving, attentive.”
“You said they were your father’s parents?”
