While Justice Sleeps(29)
“Yes,” she responded absently, her fist shut hard. “I’d like to see him. Justice Wynn.”
“He’s in testing right now. You can visit him soon.”
“Okay. Is there anything I need to know right now, Dr. Toca? Any decisions to be made?”
He shook his head. “No decisions, but we’d like to brief you on his condition and the prognosis.”
“Thank you, I’d appreciate that.” She returned to her abandoned seat and set her bag on the carpeted floor beside the chair. “The Chief told me he has Boursin’s syndrome. I did some research on the Web, but I don’t know much else.”
“Justice Wynn is stable for now, but we have no idea whether he’ll regain consciousness. I’m sorry.”
“Can I meet with his other physicians? And the hospital’s general counsel?”
“Certainly. I let them know you’ve arrived. They are eager to speak with you. I’ll get them and find you something to drink.”
“Water would be fine.”
“Just a moment,” Dr. Toca said as he stood, eager to gather reinforcements. He’d dealt with angry families, but nothing like today’s melodrama. And, given his meeting before calling Avery, Act II was about to begin. Rising, he headed for the door with undue haste. “I’ll be back soon.”
He left the office, and Avery rose to check the door, which he’d pulled shut behind him. No one stood on the other side. Which left her free to open her clenched fist. And read the note Jared Wynn had pressed into her palm.
ELEVEN
Kramers Books—the patio. Midnight. Please. JW
Then, scrawled below, in smaller, cramped letters,
Be careful.
Crumpling the note, Avery raced to the door and yanked it open. She bolted down the long white corridor. Nurses and white-coated physicians gave her a wide berth, matched by annoyed glares. Oblivious, she jogged toward an exit sign and shoved through the swinging doors. Seeing a tall, jeans-clad man in a blue shirt, she yelled, “Jared! Mr. Wynn! Wait!”
As she darted forward, she caught the man’s arm, swinging him to face her. “Jared, I—”
“Excuse me?” The man was older, the face craggier, his eyes a puzzled dark brown rather than the whiskey brown Jared had inherited from his father. “Can I help you?”
Embarrassed, Avery released his elbow and shook her head quickly. “I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” She frantically scanned the other occupants. To no avail. Jared wasn’t there.
Giving up, she swung around, only to bump into another man. She stumbled back and realized that she’d collided with Scott Curlee, one of the daytime anchors for PoliticsNOW. He stood beside a smug Celeste Turner-Wynn. Avery turned away into a blinding light perched atop a video camera, and she lifted her arm across her face. “Leave me alone.”
“Ms. Keene, can you tell me why you’re at the hospital?” Curlee demanded, pushing a microphone forward. “Is it true you’ve stolen custody of Justice Wynn from his wife?”
Avery backed away. “Of course not.”
Undeterred, Scott shoved the microphone closer. “Why were you chasing Jared Wynn? What was your relationship with Howard Wynn?”
“This is neither the time nor the place, Mrs. Turner-Wynn,” she urged.
“You won’t get away with stealing my husband,” Celeste announced, angling to catch the camera’s eye. “I’ve told Mr. Curlee what I told you. I’m his wife and his guardian. You have no right to take him from me.”
“I had nothing—” Avery halted, the Court press secretary’s admonishment to the staff ringing in her ears. “No comment.” She hurried toward the doors leading to Dr. Toca’s office, with Scott Curlee on her heels. The Authorized Personnel Only sign stopped the cameraman, but not the reporter.
“Americans deserve to know your intentions, Ms. Keene.” The reporter jogged along beside her. “Did you have an affair with Justice Wynn?”
“Ms. Keene?” Dr. Toca met her halfway along the corridor, accompanied by a pumpkin-shaped man on spindly legs whose overgrown mustache served as the only hair on his head. He cast a squinted look at her that appeared to assess and dismiss in a single motion.
The doctor closed the distance between them and touched Avery’s shoulder, placing himself between Avery and the reporter. “This area is off-limits, sir.”
“I don’t see any postings.”
The portly man stepped forward. “Big red sign on the other side of this door says Authorized Personnel Only. If you have a complaint, I’m happy to summon the security staff. They’ve been well trained by the U.S. military.”
Curlee held up his hands. “No need,” he said. “I’ll see you later, Ms. Keene.”
He walked away, and Avery slipped the wrinkled note into her suit-jacket pocket. “Thank you both.”
“Thought you told her to wait in your office, Toca?”
“No harm done, Robert. Did you need something, Ms. Keene?”
Avery fibbed, “I was hunting for the bathroom. Must have gotten turned around.”
“We can wait.”
“That’s okay.” Avery gave a nod. “Your office?”