Page 84 of Alex Cross Must Die

Grey turned as a tall woman in blue scrubs approached, her rubber-soled shoes squeaking on the tile floor. “I’m looking for Auguste Poe,” she called out.

“Right here,” said Poe, raising his hand.

“I’m Doctor Hamsha, the trauma surgeon. You’re Mr. Holmes’s healthcare agent?”

“I am,” said Poe. “How is he?”

“The bullet creased the right parietal bone. No cranial penetration, fortunately. But he bled a lot. We’ve sedated him, and we’re watching for signs of swelling or concussion. He’s very lucky. Another inch to the left and half his brain would be gone.”

“Is he stable?” asked Marple. “His heart? His lungs?”

“For now,” said Hamsha. “We need to run more scans. Then we’ll see how he does.” The doctor took a step closer toward Poe and lowered her voice. But Grey could hear every word. “I need to tell you that your friend had some very nasty drugs in his system,” Hamsha said. “Street grade. The worst. Frankly, I’m surprised he lived long enough to shoot himself.”

“When can we see him?” asked Marple.

“Not for a while,” said the doctor. She turned and headed back up the corridor, shoes squeaking.

As soon as the doctor was out of earshot, Grey turned to Marple and Poe. “We need to talk,” she said.

“About what?” asked Poe. “You heard what she said.”

“About Asbury Park,” said Grey. “I need to know what happened down there.”

Poe rubbed his eyes. “Like Margaret said, it wasn’t a kidnapping. It was a bad romance. Case closed.”

Grey bristled. It had been a long day and her nerves were fried. She wasn’t about to settle for a brush-off like that. Not on a case this important. Especially not from Poe.

“That’s enough!” she snapped. “You can’t cut me out of the loop like this. And you sure as hell can’t cut the FBI out of the loop. You guys were told to let them handle the Charles case, and instead you took off on your own, like vigilantes! I’m glad the girl and thestepdad are alive. That’s better than the alternative. But this is not how law enforcement works!”

“It’s not our fault if everybody else is two steps behind,” said Poe. “We’re very good at what we do.”

“Really?” said Grey. “If you’re really good at what you do, then why is your partner lying in the ICU with a gunshot wound to the head?”

Poe looked away.

Grey knew it was a low blow, but she wanted to make a point. She took a deep breath and spoke slowly and deliberately. “I want to hear about your whole night,” she said. “Every single detail. I need to call Brita Stans, and when I do, I don’t want to sound like a goddamn idiot.”

Poe sat down heavily in one of the plastic chairs and looked up at Marple. “Youexplain,” he said. “I’ll keep watch.”

“Perfect,” said Grey, taking Marple firmly by the arm. “Girl talk.”

CHAPTER 95

SITTING AT Asmall table in the hospital cafeteria, Marple unspooled it all for Grey. The hidden pearl transmitter. The chase through New Jersey. The scene in the motel room. As she talked, doctors and nurses shuffled past in white coats and wrinkled scrubs. At other tables, families and visitors huddled in conversation. When she was done, Marple set her cup of vending-machine tea aside. “We need to tell Addilyn,” she said.

“Let her sleep,” said Grey. “I’ll talk to her in the morning.”

Marple nodded. “I’ll come with you.”

“Hello, Mrs. Charles,”said Grey, as if practicing a speech.“The good news is, your husband and daughter are alive and well. The bad news is, they’re a couple.”

Suddenly, a loud voice blasted from the hallway. “FBI! I’m looking for Detective Lieutenant Helene Grey!”

“Oh, shit,” said Grey. “That didn’t take long.”

Marple saw Grey take a deep breath as Special Agent Brita Stans pushed through the doors and headed for their table. She was still shouting when she got there.

“Helene! I just talked to the Asbury Park station. What in the livingfuckis going on?”

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