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“Thanks, good idea.”
Jane appeared and handed her a small cell phone. “This is for you. It fits into a pouch on your belt, and the number is taped to the back of the phone.”
“Thank you, Jane. I’m going to the hospital now. Call me if you hear anything before I do.” She turned to Wallace. “If Detective Hurst comes in, call me and ask him to wait.”
“I’ll do that.” He waved a young officer over. “This is Patrolman Jimmy Weathers. He’ll ride with you today.”
“Hi, Jimmy,” Holly said, shaking his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Chief. Bob Hurst has released the chief’s car, so we’ll use that.”
“Let’s get rolling.”
Holly approached the chief’s car, a newish, dark blue Ford Taurus, unmarked, and walked around it slowly, looking for dents or marks. She found a couple of short, deep scratches in the paint on the hood and nothing else. She went over the interior thoroughly as well and found nothing of note.
Holly drove, and Weathers gave her directions. “How long are you on the force, Jimmy?”
“A year and a half, ma’am.”
“What duties have you pulled?”
“Just patrol—on bikes and in cars.”
“Motorcycles, you mean?”
“No, ma’am, bicycles. They’re good for the business district and beach areas. The ground is flat, and they keep us close to the public—less intimidating than patrol cars. It was Chief Marley’s idea.”
“What do you want to do on the force?”
“Criminal investigation, of course. Just about everybody does.”
Holly laughed. “Sure, they do.” Following Weathers’s directions, she pulled into the hospital emergency entrance and parked in a reserved place.
“Just put down the visor,” he said. “There’s a badge printed on it.”
She did as he said, then got out of the car and went into the hospital, looking up surgery on the directory. They took the elevator to the fourth floor and went to the desk.
“I’m Deputy Chief of Police Barker,” she said to the woman. “Can you tell me anything about Chief Marley’s condition?”
“No, ma’am,” the woman said, “but I can get Dr. Green for you. He did the surgery.”
“Thank you.”
The woman picked up the phone and paged the doctor. A moment later he stepped up to the desk.
“I’m Dr. Green. Can I help you?”
Holly introduced herself. “What is Chief Marley’s condition?”
“He’s still in the recovery room, on a respirator. I had hoped he would be conscious by now, but it appears that he’s in a coma.”
“What’s the prognosis?”
“Guarded, perhaps doubtful.”
“Can you describe his injuries?”
“Just one—a small-caliber bullet to the right frontal lobe.”
