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“All right.”

Then, a new voice. “Ms. Brooks?”

“Yes, this is Katelyn Brooks.”

“I’m Dr. Shelby, one of the interns on your father’s case.”

“Who’s his attending physician?”

“Dr. Mark Lindstrom, but he’s on another case right now. I’ve been with your father through everything, and I can tell you what’s going on.”

“All right, thank you. Is he going to be okay?”

“Right now, his vitals are stable, and he doesn’t appear to be in any immediate danger, but he is in a coma.”

“What exactly does that mean, doctor?”

“It means he’s not waking from the anesthesia. However, his brain activity seems to be okay.”

“Is this normal?”

“I’ll be honest with you, Ms. Brooks. It’s not usual. Most patients have no trouble returning to consciousness after anesthesia, but it does happen.”

“My mother wants me to come out. I’m in Manhattan and I just started a new job. Tell me, and please be honest. Is my father in any danger?”

“His life is not in danger at the moment. However, if he doesn’t come out of the coma on his own, you and your mother will have to make a decision.”

“A decision?”

“Yes. Whether to end his life support. Donate his organs. That kind of thing.”

My heart drops into my stomach.

Sure, I knew this was coming, but still… It’s like a lead brick. To actually hear a doctor say the words.

“Don’t tell her that!” I hear my mother snap in the background.

“Mrs. Brooks, you told me to tell her the truth.”

“I know, but for God’s sake. End life support?”

“That’s far into the future, ma’am, but she asked me to tell her the truth.”

“For God’s sake, give me the phone.” A pause. “Katelyn?”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Don’t listen to a word she says. She’s a quack. Your father will be fine.”

“Then you don’t need me to come out after all?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. Of course I need you. Your father’s in a coma, for God’s sake.”

Dear Lord. Which one of my mother’s personalities is going to take the reins here?

“Mom, I’ll do what I can. But if they won’t give me time off work—”

“They will give you time off work. If they don’t, they are horrible, terrible people.”

I already know the Wolfes will be sympathetic. I’m the problem. I love my father. Even my mother.

But how can I let the Wolfes down?

Then again…

Luke is in LA.

But no.

I must be strong. I will talk to the Wolfes. I will tell them everything. I quickly end the call with my mother.

“I’ll be back for you, Jed,” I promise my four-legged friend. “I’m going to get you some food and a leash, and then I’m taking you home.”

Yes, Jed is coming home with me.

To Manhattan.

And to LA.

25

LUKE

I place my order for five tacos and then ask, “Is Jorge around?”

“He’s not at this location today,” the guy behind the counter says.

Shit. “Can you tell me where he is?”

“I’m not sure.” He doesn’t move.

“Well…could you check?”

“Yeah, sure,” he says in monotone.

I may have to talk to Jorge about the guys he hires. This dude hardly has customer service written all over his face.

Despite the line of people behind me, counter guy does go to the back. The manager returns.

“You’re looking for Jorge?” she says.

“Yes, Maralee,” I say, eyeing her tag and smiling. “He’s an old friend. Do you know where I can find him today?”

“I think he’s at the warehouse,” she says. “We’re expecting a shipment of taco shells.”

“Thanks.” I smile again, take my tacos to go, and head to my car.

Eating a taco while you’re driving is a learned art. I’ve got it down. I polish off all five tacos before I get to the Los Tacos warehouse.

This is where it all happens. This is where product is loaded and unloaded. Not just food product, but drug product.

The fact that Jorge is here today means drugs are most likely coming in.

Man, is he even going to want to speak to me? He knows I ratted out some higher-ups.

A couple of truckers are standing in the shade behind the warehouse having a cigarette and a Pepsi.

“Hey,” I say to them. “I’m looking for Jorge. He here?”

“Inside,” one of them says, stamping his cigarette out in the grass.

“Thanks.”

I walk inside, and I truly have no idea what awaits me. No one seems to recognize me, which is good. Jorge has an office near the front of the building, and that’s where I head.

I knock on the door.

“Yeah?”

“I need to talk to Jorge,” I say.

“Who is it?”

“A friend.”

Silence.

Then Jorge opens the door. “Do I know you?”

“You do,” I say.

Recognition dawns on his face. It must be my voice.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he says.

I walk inside his office, uninvited, and close the door. “We good in here?”

“Yeah, we are.”

I trust him. I trusted that we are not being listened to or watched. Still, I do a quick scan around for surveillance. No cameras that I can see. Listening devices are another thing altogether. They could be anywhere. But I choose to trust Jorge.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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