Page 76 of Free Fall (The Quantico Files 3)

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Jeff had to leave the investigation to Williams. His analysts were there at the CP, doing whatever they could with the information they had. They’d keep working the profile until they had enough to help investigators identify the UNSUB.

At least they knew part of his name—Lum. Mike had given them a brief description, but except for the scar on his lip, it wasn’t very helpful. He’d said Lum had brown hair, wasn’t sure about the color of his eyes, and thought he was of medium height.

Williams indicated they’d start contacting carnival owners, both former and current, right away. Unfortunately, many of them weren’t great at record keeping. A lot of carnival workers were paid in cash and didn’t pay taxes.

But the task force would have to handle that. He was on his way to the hospital, praying again that Logan would be okay and that Alex would find a way to contact them so they could find her and any other women who might still be alive.

When he pulled into the hospital parking lot, he took out his phone and called Monty, who said Logan was still in recovery. Jeff was somewhat relieved. He really wanted to be there as soon as Logan was allowed visitors.

He hurried through the main hospital entrance, and memories of his stay in a hospital much like this one—not far from here—flooded his mind. He felt rather unsettled. Thankfully, both he and Alex had survived a psychopath’s attempt at ending their lives. He reminded himself that this was different, but no matter what, he needed to be here for Logan. He really did love his agents. A unit chief wouldn’t admit that out loud, but it was true nonetheless.

He located the surgery waiting room and found both Monty and Nathan there.

“Heard anything else?” he asked as he sat down on a couch next to Monty.

“No. And no details yet.”

“Will the doctor share them with us even though we’re not family?”

“Logan signed a HIPAA form with my name on it,” Monty said, “so she’ll fill me in at some point. I’ll tell you what she says. I know Logan would want you to know.”

“It’s possible she wants to talk to her patient first,” Nathan said. “Maybe she’ll advise you after that.”

“I guess so. It’s just ... well, why not at least let us know if the surgery went well? Isn’t that what doctors usually tell people waiting for information?”

“She hasn’t said anything about that?” Jeff asked. His stomach was already tight with worry. Now he felt a little nauseated. Funny how he could profile the vilest, sickest criminal and not be bothered, but when someone he cared about was in trouble, he turned into a big wimp.

He suddenly remembered when his wife had surgery for breast cancer. The doctor was the same way. Didn’t tell him everything was okay when it was over. Waited until later to let them know she had cancer. She ended up enduring more surgery, chemo, and radiation, but thankfully she was fine now.

Could this surgeon be withholding information because Logan’s news was bad?

The three of them fell silent as they waited to see their friend and colleague.

Logan woke up again, still a little groggy but more awake than he’d been earlier. He fumbled around for the call button. When he found it, he pressed it. A few seconds later, a voice said, “Can I help you?”

“This is Logan Hart,” he said to the woman. “I’m sorry, but I’m not certain what room I’m in.”

“It’s 342, Agent Hart,” she said. “Do you need something?”

“Yes. I’d like to talk to my doctor. And I’m really thirsty.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“A large glass of ice water, and an even bigger cup of black coffee would be awesome.”

He heard soft laughter, and then she said, “We need you to go slow so you won’t upset your stomach, but a small glass of water and a regular-size cup of coffee could be arranged. As soon as we get the okay from your doctor, we’ll bring you some food too.”

“Thank you,” he said.

The nurse clicked off. He could hardly wait for something to drink. He also wanted these stupid bandages off his eyes.

He reached up to touch them, then dropped his hand back down to the bed.

A few minutes later he heard the door to his room open, and someone came in. “I’ve got both water and coffee for you, Agent Hart.” It was the same voice he’d heard when he pressed the call button.

“I need . . . I need to speak to my surgeon immediately,” he said, working hard to get the words out.

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