What happened to Grace Sinclair? (Friday Barnes)

~4~

                ~the hospital~

It was around 6:00 when the ambulance arrived.

The paramedics rushed the woman to the hospital when they found out she was still breathing.

They took Friday and Olive with them and made them sit quietly in the waiting room while they took the woman into emergency care.

Police were scattered around the room, asking Friday questions. Olive was on the other side of the room being interrogated too.

"And what was around her when you found her? Was she just on her own or did she have a backpack or something?" The officer asked her.

Friday though back to the scene. "There were headphones, a backpack, two cartons of milk, a box of cereal, four potatoes and one onion."

The officer, a young man who couldn't be older than 20 with black curls, looked at her. "How on earth do you remember all that?"

Friday watched him write down everything she had just said. "Photographic memory."

The officer nodded, "same."

He smiled at her. "You're all good Miss Barnes. We'll let you know further information shortly. And, sorry about... that."

He pointed to the handcuff that secured her to the chair. She was still wanted by Interpol and officer Thomas had handcuffed her to the chair when he started her interrogation.

Olive wheeled over. "So when are Interpol gonna be here?"

"About half an hour." Friday huffed.

Olive patted her arm sympathetically. "Well, you are a prime whiteness to a hit and run so it's not like they can lock you up. The police need you so they'll keep you here for as long as possible."

Friday felt a bit better.

About 20 minutes later, officer Thomas made his way back over to the two girls. He had taken quite a liking to them during their interrogation. He felt bad for Friday sitting there handcuffed to the chair.

"Here's what we have." He said, pulling up a chair.

Friday leaned over to see what was on the clipboard and he brought it to his chest, giving her a look.

She sat back in her chair and huffed.

"We think that this woman was walking back from food shopping listening to music and was hit from behind."

Friday and Olive nodded. This made sense seeing as they found her a few hundred meters  away from the supermarket.

"Here is the thing. She has bad bruises all over her body and very bad brain swelling, but no scratches, no road rash, and no bruising that occurred after a few days ago. And she had no ID, so we have no idea who she is." He told them.

Olive frowned. "But, she must have something. A drivers licence or a phone we can get into."

Officer Thomas shook his head "she didn't have a phone, just an iPod that she was listening too, and she payed in cash which isn't traceable."

The door of the ER opened and Agent Gillard strode in, followed by Ian and Melanie.

"Good evening Officer. I'm Agent Gillard, head of the homicide department at Interpol, and I'm going to have to ask you to uncuff this girl." She said, showing her badge.

Officer Thomas stood up to shake her hand. "I'd love to, but I'm afraid she's wanted for murder."

Agent Gillard handed him a slip of paper and he smiled. "My apologies," then he bent down and unlocked the handcuffs.

Friday looked at Agent Gillard, shaking out her wrist. "I thought  was still wanted."

Agent Gillard smiled. "You were, until 4:25 this afternoon."

Melanie sat down in the chair Friday had just been in. "She cleared you. It was so cool. She yelled at everyone about how stupid they all are for even considering you and how you can't see blood so it isn't actually possible."

Friday took the ID Agent Gillard handed her. It was her ID, the one that had the photo of her and told anyone who saw it that she was a junior detective.

Ian wandered over to the door closest to them and peeked in through the small window in the door. "Is that her?"

Friday wandered over too. "Yeah."

The woman looked awful. She was lying unconscious in the bed, the machines around her beeping as they measured her blood pressure, heart rate and other things.

Olive wheeled over and bumped into Ian's leg while trying to stop. "Oh! Sorry!"

Ian smiled at her. "No you're all good."

Olive reached her hand out, "I'm Olive Quinn. You, I'm guessing, are Ian?"

Ian shook her hand, "yeah."

"Would you mind? I can't see her from down here and I can't stand on my own." She asked sheepishly.

"Yeah, sure." He said.

Friday grabbed one of her arms and Ian took the other, then they lifted her so she could see the woman too.

"She looks dreadful." Olive gasped. "Poor thing."

The doors of the ER were opened and a tall man in his late 30s strode into the room followed by two nurses.

He made his way over to the room and pushed the three aside, opening the door and walking in.

"That's my wife." He said, almost immediately.

Friday and Ian sat Olive in her chair and walked in too.

Officer Thomas pulled out a notepad. "Sir, if you'll come with me."

Friday and Ian went with officer Thomas while Olive rolled over to Melanie.

The man sat down in a chair. He was a small man who had strange similarities to a rat.

"What is your name, first and last, your age, your relation to this woman, and I'll need ID for all of that." Officer Thomas says.

The man pulls out his wallet. "My name is Jack Sinclair, I'm 56 years old, that woman in there Is Grace Sinclair and she is my wife." He handed them his drivers license and a photo of him and the woman.

The woman, Grace, was in a beautiful wedding dress and Jack was in a suit. This was a wedding photo.