Big Shot. Joanna Wayne

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СКАЧАТЬ still need to talk to Ms. Sinclair the minute she’s able,” the detective said to her back as she walked away.

      Jane didn’t respond.

      The detective stared at Durk as if he were sizing him up for a new suit—or a fight. Durk figured he was going for intimidation. It didn’t work. He was a master at that himself.

      “Glad to run into you here,” the detective said. “It will save me a trip to your house.”

      “Is this concerning Meghan’s attack or her assistant’s murder?”

      “Both.”

      “So you’re in homicide?”

      “Exactly.”

      “You didn’t waste any time getting started on the case,” Durk said.

      “Time is seldom on a detective’s side in a murder case. So let’s talk.”

      “Talk or interrogate me?”

      Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Is there a difference?”

      “Quite a bit. If you want facts, I can tell you the little I know. If you’re going to interrogate me as a suspect, I should call my attorney.”

      “I’m just after the facts—unless, of course, you have something to confess.”

      “I already confessed to handling the possible murder weapon.” And he had nothing to hide. Unfortunately, he had nothing of any real value to add, either. If and when he needed an attorney, he’d get the best in the business. He didn’t see it going that far, especially since Meghan would vouch that he wasn’t her attacker.

      Durk stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “So do we talk here in the middle of the noisy hallway or do you want to try for something a bit more private?”

      Smart smirked. “Are you worried about being seen with a homicide detective?”

      “Just trying to be helpful,” Durk said.

      “I’m glad you feel that way.”

      The detective led the way to a back exit. They stepped outside but didn’t venture away from the building.

      Smart propped his shoulder against the wall. “How well do you know Meghan?”

      “Reasonably well. We dated for several months two years ago.”

      “Then I assume you’re aware of what she does for a living?”

      “I know she’s a private investigator,” Durk admitted.

      “She specializes in cases involving extremely dangerous criminals, the kind of cases best left to trained police officers.”

      “And I hear she’s good at it,” Durk said. “So, what’s your point?”

      “The point is that you’d be smart not to get involved in this case other than cooperating with me and the rest of the DPD.”

      In other words, butt out. Durk had a real problem with ultimatums—unless he was the one issuing them. “What makes you think I’d get involved?”

      “You might look like a cowboy, but I know all about you, Durk. You’re a powerful CEO. You’re used to being in charge and running things your way.”

      “I’m noted for getting the job done, just like Meghan.”

      “But you’re not used to dealing with murderers. Take it from me, they don’t play by any rules. This guy has killed once. He won’t hesitate to do it again if that’s what it takes to save his skin.”

      “I plan to stay alive,” Durk said. “With or without rules.”

      The groundwork of their tenuous relationship had been laid. The rest of the detective’s questions were routine and the interview was over as soon as the detective realized that Durk knew nothing about the cases Meghan was currently working.

      When Smart left, Durk walked back inside. Jane met up with him right away.

      “Dr. Levy would like to speak with you.”

      Now they were getting somewhere. “When?”

      “As soon as he has a minute. If you’ll wait near the trauma unit nurse’s station, I’ll come for you when he’s ready.”

      Jane’s voice had taken on a somber tone that set his nerves on edge.

      “I’ll be there,” he said. Waiting. Worrying. Agonizing over what Dr. Levy would have to say and unable to do one thing to change it.

      * * *

      “M S . S INCLAIR IS EXHIBITING symptoms of a severe brain concussion.”

      Durk breathed easier at Dr. Levy’s pronouncement. He was familiar with concussions, having experienced two of them while playing quarterback for the Oak Grove Wildcats. But his had been mild, and the only symptoms he remembered were a headache and vomiting all over his uniform.

      “What symptoms?” he asked.

      “She lost consciousness for several minutes during her exam and she is experiencing AMS—altered mental status. In Ms. Sinclair’s case she’s combative, pushing the medical team away when we try to examine her. She keeps yelling about being in a car wreck.”

      “She was doing that when they brought her in,” Durk recalled.

      “She’s also unable to answer simple questions or state her name.”

      “Is that normal with a severe concussion?”

      “It’s not unusual, especially immediately following the trauma.”

      “Can you give her something to help her focus?”

      “We don’t want to give her any meds at this point. Drugs would affect her neurological functioning and we want to keep a close check on those for the next few hours.”

      “Exactly what do you mean when you say neurological functioning? Are there other injuries?”

      “She has a relatively small hematoma behind her right ear and two cuts in her scalp that will need to be sutured. But nothing else to be concerned about.”

      “What about her blood pressure? The paramedic mentioned that it was roller-coastering when they rolled her in.”

      “That was most likely the result of having been Tasered. We’re monitoring that. It shouldn’t present a continuing problem.”

      “And that’s it? No life-threatening injuries?”

      “That’s all we know at this time. We’re in the process of scheduling a CT scan to see if there are other issues.”

      Durk’s apprehension climbed again. He was fairly certain that CT scans СКАЧАТЬ