No Such Thing as Evil

Chapter 10

Nothing on the pubcomm to watch. Only a few more days until the weekend and she would finally be able to go home. Lisa gestured to change the channel. She'd gotten used to using her other hand. She gestured again.

Her percomm jingled. "Hey, Dad," she answered. "I didn't think I'd hear from you until tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, Lisa. This isn't your dad. Please don't hang up. I'm Detective Jones from the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department."

"I don't understand. Did my dad lose his percomm or something?"

"No. Please listen. Did a Detective Fontain visit you yesterday?"

Fontain? Now what? These people have quite the nerve. "I don't want anything to—"

"Please, Lisa, please listen to me." His voice was urgent, but she sensed compassion. "I know Fontain came to tell you that there's no evidence supporting your case. That's not entirely true. Look, I can't have this conversation over the comm network. Please, can you meet me outside the hospital?"

"How did you get my dad's percomm? Look, if you think you can just—"

"I don't have your dad's percomm. I spoofed the comm. I'll explain everything. Please, Lisa. We can't talk this way. The hospital parking lot—there's a bench at the far end. Do you know it?"

Maybe she wasn't the only one who thought Fontain was an idiot. "All right. When should—"

"Now, Lisa. Can you meet me outside right now?"

"Uh, give me a minute. How will I—"

"You'll know." The connection ended.

With her crutch, she hobbled out of her room.

"Where are you headed, dear?" asked the duty nurse from the nurse's station.

"Going for a walk," she said. "Doctor's orders."

"Good girl!"

She was getting the hang of the crutch. They had to amputate her left foot and left arm—too much infection. Eventually, she'd get a prosthetic foot and not need the crutch. But the crutch was fine; it just took a little longer.

Sure enough, a vehicle was parked at the far end of the parking lot with the unmistakable characteristics of an unmarked police vehicle—too plain—and a man waiting on the bench along the walking path. He was the only person that far from the hospital entrance. He was young, maybe a few years older than herself.

When she finally reached the spot, he stood up.

"Coulda parked a little closer, dontcha think?" she said. "I'm not quite ready for Cirque du Soleil."

"Sorry," he said. He was wearing a suit, not unlike Fontain's, conspicuously plain. But where Fontain's neck bulged with fat and his gut hung over his waist, this guy was tall, lean, and fit.

"Let me see some identification."

He pulled his percomm from his suit pocket, tapped the display, and held it up. Lisa aimed the camera of her percomm at him. The display flashed green, confirming the credentials matched his image.

"Sorry to have to talk with you this way. I'm here against orders." He looked from side to side. "Lisa, the people who hurt you are powerful and have the ability to track information that you would find hard to believe. The hospital surveillance cameras are recording us even now. A trail of evidence is getting longer by the second. I can purge the data, but there is only so much I can do before I create suspicion. Please, can you come with me to my vehicle so I can explain?" He held out his arm.