Chapter 32
The rubber-soled shoes were silent against the sterile white floors of the Dallas VA Hospital. The young, dark-haired nurse didn't even give the orderly a passing glance as he walked by carrying a tray.
The door to Room 321 was slightly ajar, the television set tuned to CNN. Thin white window drapes were shut. The light from the television set cast an eerie light in the room. A slim figure in the bed was asleep, defenseless. Three blankets were pulled up to his chin. A glass of ice chips was on the nightstand.
The orderly took a syringe off his tray and injected the contents into the IV tube running into George Abbott's left hand. He watched for several seconds, then carried the tray down the hall to the laundry chute.
Once outside in the darkened parking lot, Cain changed his clothes. He would find a dumpster on his drive back to the airport, where he would discard his orderly uniform. By the time his flight was airborne, George Abbott would be dead.
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