“I’m getting better, but it was quite a shock.” She took another sip of the hot liquid. “It must be pretty bad if you didn’t want to discuss the patient’s condition in the room.”
“It’s not good, for sure, and while I don’t think she can hear us, you never know. I talked with the surgeon ... she lost a lot of blood and her blood pressure is extremely low. He indicated there could be organ failure if it doesn’t come up.” He took off his jacket and laid it on the back of a chair.
“Optimistic sort, huh?”
“I know.” Clayton stared into his coffee, then looked up. “He did say she seemed to be a fighter. Personally, I think if she makes it through the night and an infection doesn’t set in, she’ll recover.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“Briefly. She came to when they were loading her in the ambulance. I asked if she knew who shot her, but she asked about someone named Bri—probably the girl I saw her with.”
“Do you think this Bri person shot her?”
“I don’t know. Our Jane Doe’s car is missing along with her ID, and I don’t know if Bri shot her and took the car and ran, or if someone else shot her and stole her car. Even if she improves overnight and regains consciousness by morning, I doubt we’ll get much information from her until sometime tomorrow afternoon.”
Suddenly his eyes widened. He snapped his fingers and took out his phone. “I need to cancel the BOLO or an Adams County Deputy will be pulling you over.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“When I thought the victim was you, I gave the sheriff your license plate number.”
“From this morning.”
“Yep. Once I got it from my SUV.” He walked to the coffee machine to make his call, and Madison took a notebook from her bag, her thoughts returning to the patient in room 224. Was it possible she had a twin sister? She knew absolutely nothing about her biological family, not that she hadn’t tried after she went away to college. The DNA kits had just become available, and she ordered one and sent it off. She’d even marked that she wanted to participate in the DNA Relatives feature, but nothing ever came of it.
Clayton returned to their table with more coffee.
“Get it taken care of?” she asked.
“Yes. And I talked to Hugh and let him know we were working on finding out who the victim is.”
Madison should have called him already, and she would on her way back to her grandfather’s. “Fill me in on the details.”
He hesitated. “Are you taking over the case?”
Was Clayton asking because he didn’t want the Investigative Services Branch horning in? He was a district ranger in a supervisory position, which meant he had many years of experience. She didn’t know what his problem was. Unless he expected her to come in and throw her weight around. Madison studied him, looking for the signs. Instead, she found herself admiring his broad shoulders, shoulders that might be good to lean on.
From what he said earlier, Clayton was older than she was by three years. His high cheekbones and straight black hair made her wonder if he was of Native American descent. As a kid she’d never really known him or his family.
He waved his hand in front of her face. “Clayton to Madison...”
Heat flashed up her neck and into her cheeks. “Sorry. Fell down a rabbit hole there for a second.” What were they talking about? Oh yeah. “Would you have a problem with it if I did take over the case?”
Clayton stared at her a moment, then he visibly relaxed. “I’m hoping we can work together on it—we’re both National Park Service officers, even though you’re in theelitegroup.” He made air quotes aroundelite.
“Me too.” She tilted her head to the side. From his relaxed posture, it was evident Clayton was comfortable with who he was. “I want to know who this woman is,” she said. “And I believe we can work together. Now fill me in on the details...”
She made notes as he took her from seeing the victim at the restaurant to when he arrived at Coles Creek. When he finished, she reviewed what he’d told her. “Evidently the two had a destination—Jackson, probably. It’s too early to be looking fora missing persons alert, but I’ll check with Allyson Murphy, the FBI analyst I met yesterday in Jackson.”
“That sounds good.” Clayton glanced at his watch. “We’ve been gone almost an hour. If you’re ready, I’d like to see her one last time and call it a night.”
Madison was ready to do the same thing. They returned to the ICU wing, and while he spoke with the deputy on guard, she slipped back into the room. Now that she was alone, Madison took more time to study their Jane Doe.TheirJane Doe? She’d warmed pretty quickly to working with Clayton.
She tried to estimate how tall the unconscious woman would be if she were standing. About Madison’s height ... and weight. She peered a little closer at the roots of the ash-blond hair fanned out on the pillow. It was either recently colored or, like Madison, she’d never colored her hair. Either way, the blond shade was the same, and it appeared to be shoulder length, like her own. “Do you wear your hair in a ponytail?” she asked softly. It was Madison’s go-to style.
How surreal, looking at a mirror image of herself. Even the woman’s fingers were like Madison’s. Piano fingers, her mother called them.
“Who are you?” She cradled the right hand that didn’t have an IV. The patient’s fingers curled around hers, sending a shock wave through Madison.