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“I know. Would it be possible for you to get a message to either him or his assistant?”
She sputtered as though Talia had told a good one. “I don’t think so.”
“I see. Well, thank you.” She gave her a pleasant smile. “I’ll call Margaret.”
“Who’s that?”
“Mrs. Andrew Phillips.” Talia held her gaze. “Or, so I don’t have to disturb her, if you think it’s possible to reach someone on Dr. Phillips’s staff, please ask them to call me. My name is Talia Shafer.”
The woman shifted her stance as though her shoes had suddenly become too tight. “Like the children’s foundation?”
“Exactly like that. Margaret serves on our board.”
The woman thought it over, then, “What’s your phone number?”
Talia recited it; the woman wrote it down. “Please convey that I’m in the ER waiting room, and that I’m very anxious to know the condition of a patient named Gif Lewis.”
The woman gave her a sulky nod.
Talia returned to Drex. She sat in the chair beside his, took her phone from his listless hand, and checked to see that he’d restored the battery and turned it on. “We should know something soon.”
“Your approach must’ve been more diplomatic than mine.”
“I didn’t use diplomacy. I pulled strings.”
She could tell that he wasn’t really engaged in what they were saying to each other. He was staring straight ahead, his eyes bleak, haunted. She placed her hand in his, sliding her palm against his, then linking their fingers. They didn’t talk.
Across from them in a facing row of chairs, Mike was overflowing the seat of his, but he looked stalwart. Talia found herself judging him less harshly. He was a disagreeable grump, but a levelheaded and reliable friend. His outward display of worry was more contained than Drex’s, but she could tell that it was just as deeply felt.
At one point, Drex looked over at him and said hoarsely, “Jesus, Mike.”
“I know.”
“I’m wishing for a heart attack.”
Mike confessed that he was, too. “They’re survivable.”
After that, they lapsed into a somber silence, stirring only when a stout man, dressed in scrubs and sporting a white beard, pushed through a door and strode into the waiting area with the bearing of a commanding general. Or a chief surgeon at a major teaching hospital.
He glanced around and, spotting Talia, walked straight over. She stood up, Drex and Mike doing likewise. She said, “Andy, I didn’t expect you! You could have sent an underling or just called me.”
“Does this have anything to do with Jasper? Margaret and I were shocked to hear about it. Has there been any word?”
“Thank you for your concern. There’s nothing new to report on Jasper’s disappearance, but indirectly that’s why I’m here. One of the men on the investigative team was brought here by ambulance a short while ago.”
“Lewis.”
“Yes. What can you tell me?”
“I can tell you that he’s alive.”
She, Drex, and Mike all slumped with relief. “We’re all very glad to hear that,” she said. “Thank you, Andy.” She made hasty introductions. “Mr. Lewis is more than simply their colleague, he’s their very good friend. Naturally, they’ve been anxious to know his condition.”
“And that woman over there wouldn’t even tell us what had happened to him,” Drex said.
The surgeon looked him up and down. “You must be the extremely rude and vituperative individual referred to by her.”
That bounced off Drex. “Is Gif going to be all right?”
