“It means someone in Italy has a little too much time on their hands. Go, we got this.”
He nodded absently, then closed the door behind him.
Reyes and I studied Dad’s investigation for a couple of hours. One thing we didn’t find that I was hoping for was a name. An address. Anything. Just weird documents, receipts, pages torn out of an accounting journal.
Finally, Reyes found a card from a storage company buried under a pile of fast food receipts. “Safety Storage, Unit 17-A.”
“We need to check it out, don’t you think?”
“Normally, considering the circumstances, I would say it could wait. But it’s not like your father to decline calls and not check in with someone.”
“Exactly. But, once again, we’ll need a warrant. No way will they let us in there. Unless,” I said, scheming.
Reyes pulled me onto his lap. “How about we grab some lunch and call your uncle. If he can’t get a warrant, we’ll try it your way. Whatever that way may be.”
“Deal. Ubie’s like my own personal warrant man. Some judge must really owe him. Sadly, he couldn’t get a warrant to dig up that grave, but I have a plan.”
We stood and started out the door. “Do you know how terrifying those words are coming out of your mouth?”
“I do. I really do.” Before I could elaborate, a high-pitched shriek hit me from my left.
“Charley!”
I jumped at least a mile. Jessica ran up to me, her arms flailing. “My nephew. Hurry!” She grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me along with her.
“Jessica, stop,” I said as Reyes crossed his arms and leaned against a post outside Dad’s room. “Stop, seriously.” I jerked out of her grip and rubbed my wrists. Her nails were lethal. “What’s going on?”
“My nephew got hit by a car last night. I didn’t know. I didn’t know until now. Please, help him.”
“Help him?” I asked, shaking my head. “Jessica, I can’t save people. Unless he needs help with his homework, and he’s still young enough that I’d understand it, I can’t help him.”
“Please, Charley,” she said, pleading with tears streaming down her face. “He’s in critical condition. They don’t expect him to live. He’s – he’s everything my sister has left.”
“I didn’t know Willa even had kids.”
“She only has the one son. They’ve been trying, but – Please, just try to help him.”
I gave Reyes my best sheepish slash apologetic brows. “Do you mind?”
“It’s your world, Dutch.”
Since we had no idea how long we’d be, we grabbed tacos and sodas from Macho Taco on the way to the hospital. I was a little concerned with his compliance, his willingness to come on this mission. He seemed curious, and I realized he wondered if I could do anything to help the kid. He’d been testing me for days. This was just another test of my abilities.
Sadly, everyone was about to be very disappointed. Just like I could not save my father from cancer, I could not save this boy from his injuries. But Jessica was certain I could. After all the years of her snide remarks and derision, I wondered why I was helping her at all, but this wasn’t for her. Willa was nice when she wanted to be. We’d gotten along for the most part, besides that one fight to the death I had to break up between the two of them.
“Jessica, if he’s in ICU, they won’t let me in. You have to be family.”
“Then tell them you’re family!” she screeched, panicking. “Tell them you’re my cousin Kristi from Louisville.”
“And if they want an ID?”
“You lie all the time. You can’t make something up?”
The elevator doors opened, and Jessica pushed me to the end of a corridor, where a very intimidating door stood between us and the patients. Reyes followed along at a slower pace. I pushed the buzzer.
“Yes?” a woman said.
“I’m Kristi. I’m here to see —”
“Dustin!” she shouted.
“Dustin.”
“He’s in number three,” she said as the giant metal doors opened. “You should hurry, hon.”
Jessica’s face fell. She ran forward and I lost sight of her. “Be right back,” I said to Reyes as I stepped across the threshold.
“I saw a Good Housekeeping back there that’s calling my name.”
I nodded and headed for ICU room 3.
I walked around the nurses’ station until I saw a glass room with a big 3 on it. I stopped short. It was full of people. At least a dozen people lined the room. That meant only one thing: Dustin didn’t have long. They allowed only two people in a room at a time in ICU. This could not be good.
“Come on,” Jessica said, urging me forward.
“Jessica, I can’t go in there. Your family is in there.”
“But you have to. You have to touch him or something, right?”
“Jessica, honey, this is not what I do. I don’t heal people. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”
As I stood talking to her, I noticed a little boy sitting in a chair outside the room. He looked scared and lost, and I knew that had to be Dustin. Jessica had disappeared back into the room, so I walked up and sat beside him.
“Hi,” I said.
He didn’t look up.
“I’m Charley. You must be Dustin.”