Page 110 of Mensa's Match

Something told Mensa that was all hot air, but he nodded, and prayed what the officer said was true.

The sergeant who questioned Mensa took his sweet time about it… most likely because he knew Mensa desperately wanted to get to the hospital for Whitney.

“I think we’re done here, Mr. Ragstone. I’ll have a public safety officer take you to the hospital.”

No doubt that public safety officer would be none other than Phil seeing as Mensa had caught sight of the asshole meandering the scene.

Mensa held back his lip curl. “Thanks, but I’ll ride.”

“You didn’t ask which hospital.”

Mensa’s lips twisted. “Merit Health’s the only one equipped for that sort of gunshot wound, right?”

The sergeant gave him a dry look. “Right.”

Mensa hurried out of the compound. He called Nadia on his way back to his bike.

“Mensa,” she answered, panic lacing her tone.

“Go to Merit Health. Have the prospect drive your car. Whitney’s been shot. I don’t know much more because the cops kept me from going with her.”

“Oh, dear Lord above,” she whispered.

“I’ll see you there, Nadia,” he said when he reached his bike and ended the call.

“I’m riding with you,” Finn said from his right side.

Mensa hadn’t even heard him approach.

Ten minutes later Finn and Mensa pulled into the hospital parking lot. He saw the prospect parking Nadia’s car. Mensa found a spot, parked his bike, and jogged over to Nadia.

She grabbed hold of Mensa’s forearm and walked beside him. It was the first time she’d shown signs of her age around him.

“Wyatt should be here in a little over an hour. He got a call from the EMTs when she was brought in – guess he’s her emergency contact.”

Mensa looked at her askance. “That’s gonna blow his cover.”

She shook her head. “He told me not to worry about it.”

Mensa sighed. “Whatever. I hope they’ll tell you what’s going on.”

“How did this happen?” she asked.

Mensa covered her hand on his arm. “I’ll tell you right after we know how she’s doing.”

“Did they get the shooter?” Nadia asked as they went through the sliding doors.

“Not yet,” Mensa muttered. What he didn’t say was that he hoped they didn’t because he wanted to rip Rod apart, limb from limb.

There would be time for that. In the meantime, he would strategize the best way to make Rod suffer.

The nurse behind the counter checked Nadia’s ID, typed on her computer, and looked up at them. “She’s in surgery right now. I don’t have any idea how long that will take.”

She directed them to the appropriate waiting room.

Mensa guided Nadia to a chair and she patted the seat next to her. “Now you tell me what happened, Kenneth.”

Something about her use of his first name reminded him of how Whitney said it and he sat. Always a believer in ripping off the bandage, he told her what happened as fast as he could.

---