Well, what could he do next to keep himself awake? He'd played the alphabet game solo, particularly difficult when there were so few signs around, impossible now that it was dark outside. He'd decoded every personalized license plate within view. He'd heard every song on his iPod several times over. It was possible that it was time to chuck it in, try something else. He wasn't a quitter, but he knew Ben needed help, and if this wasn't going to pan out, perhaps it was time to try something different. He hated to go against his dad's advice, but he was in his forties now, after all, and there came a time when a man had-
Loving sat up straight in his seat. Wait just a minute. Was that who he thought it was?
He smiled. Daddy had been right. Again.
It was possible the man was just going to visit a sick friend. But Loving didn't think so.
Loving slowly eased out of his van, careful not to attract any attention. He crept between the cars, staying well behind Officer Peter Shaw. One of the Benedict's Bunch. The darkness helped, even though the parking lot was illuminated with several high fluorescent lamps.
He stepped through the sliding front doors and waited, staying out of sight. Shaw would recognize him, and the last time he and Loving had met, he'd threatened to punch his lights out. A big scene in the hospital lobby would not likely generate the information Loving needed.
Shaw nodded at the front desk receptionist but did not stop or sign in. That in itself was interesting. Told Loving at least two things: he'd been here before, and he didn't want to leave a record of his presence.
Once Shaw had disappeared down the corridor, Loving started forward. He knew he would not get past the front desk so readily. He would have to be clever.
Loving started talking before he even reached the desk. "Did Peter Shaw come through here?"
The woman sitting behind the desk did not immediately answer.
"You know Pete. Shaved head. Goatee. Cop. He left his pager. He'll get in big trouble if I don't give it to him."
"You can leave it with me and I'll see-"
"No, sorry, I can't. Appreciate your offer, but it's police property. I put it into anyone's hands other than his, I'll get drilled by my boss, and I've got enough of that already."
"Well, he didn't sign in, so I don't know…"
"I can find him. Do you have any idea which way he went?"
The woman seemed a bit confused, which was understandable, given the circumstances. Loving's primary goal here was to keep her talking before she had time for thinking.
"I believe he usually goes to Oncology."
Oncology. The same department where Joslyn Thomas worked. This case just got a whole lot more interesting.
"Thanks! You're a lifesaver!"
Loving brushed past her. She held up her hand, but he was too quick. Her hand fell and he passed without question. He had a suspicion that she was not entirely satisfied with their interaction. But he also suspected that Shaw and his buddies had been visiting the hospital for some time, and she probably wasn't satisfied with that interaction, either. Bottom line, she knew that something out of the ordinary was going on but had decided it didn't behoove her to be curious.
Loving read the sign dangling over the corridor. The arrow indicated that Oncology was to the left. He veered down the corridor and almost immediately saw Shaw at the other end of the hall.
Loving opened a door and dove inside. It was a spacious closet, filled with supplies. It would do for now, but he needed to get out of here before he was accused of trying to steal something. He wasn't exactly wearing a clever disguise for undercover work. His white T-shirt and torn jeans would not allow him to blend in with the doctors or the staff. He needed something better…
Hospital greens would do. They were a common sight here, plus he could just pull them over his clothes. He could pass as an OR intern or some similar no-education-required employee. But where would he find the greens?
He opened the door just a crack and checked the hallway. Coast was clear. He slipped out and read the signs on the doors as furiously as possible. There had to be a lounge or sitting room where staff waited for their calls…
He found the locker room quickly, before Shaw reappeared in the corridor. Just inside, a big linen laundry basket on wheels held lots of dirties. Where were the clean clothes?
He supposed that given his circumstances, he couldn't afford to be choosy. He rooted around in the basket, searching for something that would fit his large frame, preferably not too soaked with blood or flesh or any other surgical remnants. After that, he found a stack of masks on a shelf. Obscuring his face would be a good idea, too.
A minute later he was back out in the hallway. He didn't kid himself that this getup would prevent Shaw from recognizing him if he got a good look. But it might shield him from a distant casual glance.
Slowly he made his way down the corridor to where he had last seen Shaw. He had no trouble locating him. He was visible in the window of a closed office door. He was talking to someone else, a man in a white coat. A doctor, unless Loving was mistaken. The conversation seemed uncomfortable. Shaw appeared agitated. His volume was increasing.
Loving retrieved a mop from the closet where he had hidden a few minutes before. He stood just outside the office door, pretending to wipe up a nonexistent mess, straining his ears to hear what was being said inside.
Once he was close, the conversation came through with surprising clarity.
"I'm telling you, the deal is off," Shaw said. "It's too risky."
"Just one more time. That's all I'm asking," the doctor replied.
"No way."
"Chris would've done it."
"Yeah, and look how he ended up."
"That's not fair and we both know it. He…" Loving couldn't hear the last part of the sentence. He scooted in closer. People were passing by him in the corridor, but so far no one was taking notice. Still, he knew that condition would not last forever.
"I'm in charge now, and I say no way."
"You're being unreasonable," the doctor replied.
"I'm being smart. You weren't the one up on that witness stand."
"What are you complaining about? It went fine."
"Did you hear that chump lawyer quizzing me? He got close, Gary. Dangerous close."
"He got nothing. And now it's over."
"It ain't over, not yet. And I think we should lay low till it is."
"That's not possible. It's all been arranged. I'll have a truck ready at the back loading dock. It will only take a few minutes. I'll take care of everything inside. You take care of everything outside."
"You're not listening to me. I don't want any part of this."
"You're already a part of it. And if something happens to me, you're going down, too. So maybe you better show up just to make sure nothing goes wrong."
"Are you threatening me?"
"You call it what you will. I want you here."
"I'm not coming."
"Who should I get, then? Your assistant? Maybe I should call Torres. He usually fills in when you guys screw up, right?"
"Don't go anywhere near Torres!"
"Fine. Do this one more job for me, Shaw. Just one. Then you'll be fixed to do anything you want. Give me your cell phone number. I'll text you the details as soon as I know when and where."
Shaw recited his number. "The money won't help me if I'm not alive."
"You will be. And then you can quit this crappy police work. Take care of your sister. Take early retirement. Take it in the Cayman Islands. The world will be at your doorstep."
"It's too risky!"