“Nothing eventful,” she answers.
“Has he had visitors?”
“Calvin Willard’s in there with him,” she says to my dismay.
“How long has the senator been here?” Benton asks.
“Several hours.” She pushes an intercom button on the wall.
“May I help you?” The female voice over the speaker sounds familiar.
“You can open up,” the blond agent answers, and the electronic lock clicks free.
Benton pushes through the door, and ahead is the nurses’ station behind windows. The U-shaped desk is decorated with swags of artificial greenery, a small lighted tree in a corner. I’m startled to hear someone call out my name.
“Don’t mean to intrude.” Reba O’Leary appears from behind glass, and it was her voice I heard over the intercom.
She’s in pink scrubs, and I’m reminded that she’s working four a.m. to four p.m. today. I introduce her to Benton, asking why she’s on this floor.
“They’re shorthanded, a lot of car crashes during the night, a lot of broken bones,” she says, her eyes bloodshot and lusterless. “I go where needed. But I started out my shift in the E.R.”
“Did you see Zain Willard when he was brought in?” I ask.
“I’d just gotten here, and he was almost hysterical. Practically out of his mind.” She looks unnerved. “He kept talking about a ghost attacking him with a knife.”
“It wasn’t a ghost,” Benton says.
“The Phantom Slasher again. I know what’s all over the news.” She keeps glancing around as if afraid someone is listening. “I can tell you Zain Willard wasn’t faking anything. He was terrified. He kept worrying that the ghost was going to find him and finish him off.”
“Did he offer details about what happened to him?” I ask her.
“He said one thing that you should know.” She looks nervous, and I can tell she’s mindful of the cameras in the ceiling. “When I heard you were coming up here, I wanted to be sure I told you.”
“How did you hear we were coming up here?” Benton asks.
“One of the Secret Service agents was telling the senator that the medical examiner was on the way,” she says. “I happened to be taking Zain’s vitals. And I was waiting for you.”
“What is it I should know?” I ask her.
“He said that when his neck was cut, he had to dig his necklace out of it.”
“If true, that’s very important,” I reply.
“I guess the blade hit the chain, embedding it into the incision,” Reba explains. “Maybe accounting for why the cuts to his neck aren’t all that deep.”
“The necklace probably saved his life,” I reply. “When it’s examined in the labs, we’ll know if that’s what happened.”
“It doesn’t sound like the sort of thing someone would make up,” Benton adds. “And even if the cuts to his neck were self-inflicted, he might have forgotten he had the necklace on."
“I can see that happening,” I reply. “Either way, he’s lucky to be alive.”
“Thanks again for coming to my house last night.” Reba looks at me. “It was very kind.”
“How are your sons this morning?” I ask.
“My sister’s with them.” Reba’s face turns red as she blinks back tears. “Well, I don’t want to hold the two of you up. And I’d better get back to what I’m doing.”
CHAPTER 33