Fatal Connections

Chapter 22

After I recovered enough to consider Nick's situation, I checked with a nurse to make sure my gear was stowed, so to speak. The smiling Hispanic woman assured me they had locked my valuables in a cabinet tucked beneath the small bedside table. She demonstrated this by producing a small key and using it to open the cabinet door. She pulled out my shoulder bag and lifted it for me to see, still smiling.

"Could you hand that to me, please?" I asked.

The nurse complied. She also handed me the key and then went on her way.

The first thing I did was dig out my phone. And of course it was dead. But I could use the bedside phone. When I picked up the receiver, Nick's phone number failed to come to mind. Try as I might, I couldn't recall it. Damn! My smartphone was making me dumb. So any intel from Nick's meeting with the cops would have to come out later.

The next day, I awaited word from the doctor regarding my official discharge from the hospital, a stay I could ill afford. I was hoping (but not quite sure) that it would be covered by insurance.

In the interim, I received a visit from a man I didn't recognize. I guessed his age to be pushing 40. He wore "day off" casual clothes, but his manner was all business. After knocking and entering, he approached my bed. The moment he stepped in the door, I could feel his gray-green eyes assessing me.

Before I could ask who he was, he said, "Ms. Jensen, my name is Parker Adams. I saw what happened to you, so I know why you ended up here."

The details of the attack on me were a blur when I first regained consciousness, but with each passing hour of being awake, they sharpened into focus.

"Did you see the person who did this?"

Adams nodded. He moved as fluidly as a cat toward a nearby chair. He settled onto the edge of the seat and, elbows propped on knees, leaned forward, tensed as though he might spring to his feet any moment.

"I know the guy who did it," he said. "I can't go into why. But I can tell you that you chose a bad place to take photos of license plates."

I thought about that for a few seconds. "You a private eye?"

Adams just looked at me.

"Are you?" I asked.

"Could be."

We could do this all day. "Just don't tell me I was conked on the head because some dude was afraid his wife or girlfriend would find out he went to that club."

He smiled, but the smile disappeared as quickly as it came. "With all due respect, ma'am, I wouldn't have come here if my knowledge of The Void were about such frivolous matters."

"So what's this all about?" Whatever the guy had come to tell me, it was already making my head hurt. Adams looked at me with the unfocused, yet penetrating, manner of someone who's seen combat. You may have heard of the thousand-yard stare.

"There are . . . things so terrible, it's hard to imagine. Humans are capable of such atrocities and violations of other people's rights."

He paused. So far, I hadn't heard anything new. I was on the verge of telling him to get to the damn point when he resumed his soliloquy.

"I know a few things." Adams seemed to be looking right through me, and he remained silent for a time. Then his eyes snapped back into focus. "I checked your military record, so I know that you're a Marine and I know about your medical discharge. I know that you handle . . . research," he said with a very slight smile. "Under normal circumstances, we wouldn't be having this conversation, but given what you do, it seemed like a good idea to give you a heads up that you should probably stay clear of The Void."

"What's going on in there?" I asked.

"I can't go into specifics," he said. "I'm sorry."

I tried to think through the possibilities, but my mind was still a bit foggy. "Do you mean, like, organized crime? And how do you know so much about me?"

Adams continued to scrutinize me. "As to the first, maybe. As to the second, I have sources."

He shrugged. "I wanted to let you know what happened. I tend bar there, part time. And I keep my eyes and ears open, fortunately for you.

"I got a little suspicious when two people of interest decided to have an impromptu meeting in the parking lot. I was stuck making a drink but followed them out as soon as I could. By that time, they had disappeared, but I saw you snapping pics. I figured the two guys had taken off. But as I headed back inside, I heard the scuffle and turned back—to see them attacking you."

I managed a weak smile. "Timing is everything, huh?"

"They were in the midst of learning that your phone was password-protected when I broke up the party. But I came here today to make sure that we don't trip over each other. Besides, you don't want to get caught up in this."

I wondered what "this" was, but I knew better than to ask. "So you called for an ambulance, like any good citizen would," I said.

The quirky grin returned. "Right."

I didn't quite know what to say. "Could you have stopped them?" came to mind, but I decided against it. "Thank you," I said, wondering what I was thanking him for.