The whiteboard behind the receptionist showed that Theo Knight was in treatment room number three. Jack approached the counter and snagged the attention of one of the busy nurses. "Any information on my friend in room three?"
She didn't look up from her clipboard. It might have seemed rude, had she not been doing ten things at once. "What's his name?"
Jack told her. She checked the board, grabbed an eraser, and removed his name – which gave Jack a moment of panic.
"They took him into surgery," she said. "We'll let his uncle know as soon as we know anything."
Jack went to the vending machine and bought three bottled waters. Trina remained at Uncle Cy's side, and she was holding his hand when Jack returned. Jack shared the waters and the latest news from the nurse. Through the glass entrance doors, he noticed a City of Miami squad car in the parking lot.
"Did you talk to the police yet?" he asked Cy
He nodded.
"What did you tell them?" said Jack.
"Not much. Didn't really see the shooter. Black guy is all I can say. Red ghetto car. Drive-by shooting, you know."
Trina rose, clearly edgy. "I need to walk off some nerves," she said, then headed aimlessly toward the whiteboard, as if to confirm everything Jack had just learned from the nurse.
Jack stayed with Uncle Cy. "So you see the shooting as random?"
He shook his head. "Did at first. More I think about it, more it seems like somebody from the 'hood. Maybe even an old Grove Lord. Must've gotten wind that Isaac turned to Theo for help and Theo went to the cops. This is payback."
"I could see how you might think that way," said Jack. He drank from his water bottle.
"You say that like I'm missin' somethin'."
Jack took a seat directly across from Cy, then slid forward to the edge of his chair. He lowered his voice to further convey how serious he was. "I agree that it wasn't random. But your payback theory doesn't make any sense."
"Why not?"
"If someone from the old 'hood was ticked off enough to punish Theo for not helping Isaac and for calling the cops, why didn't Isaac go to that person for help in the first place?"
Cy nodded, as if he hadn't thought of that. "So it ain't payback?"
Jack said, "I think it's bigger than that. Much bigger."
A glimmer of life returned to the old man's eyes. "Talk to me."
ANDIE HENNING WAS IN Suite 212 at Jackson Memorial Hospital, a private room for Sylvia Peters, the young waitress abducted by Isaac Reems.
Andie had been waiting since Sunday morning to speak with her. Kidnapping was Andie's primary area of responsibility at the FBI's Miami field office. Also, it was possible that Reems had told his hostage something about the prison break, so talking to Sylvia was a key part of Andie's task force review of the escape. Sylvia's parents, however, had refused all requests for interviews until their daughter regained her strength and spoke to a counselor. With Reems dead and the criminal investigation in a postmortem posture, Andie hadn't pushed it. But upon hearing that Theo had been shot, Andie renewed her request with urgency. Sylvia agreed to talk.
Andie stood at the bedrail facing Sylvia. IV fluids dripped into the patient's arm. Sylvia's parents sat in the chairs by the window, monitoring their daughter's words as closely as the bedside equipment monitored her heart rate. Andie took notes and listened to Sylvia's recount of the abduction, asking questions to fill in details. When Sylvia got to the shooting behind the restaurant, Andie slowed the discussion to the interrogator's equivalent of frame-by-frame analysis.
"I blacked out somewhere during the car ride," said Sylvia. "It was ungodly hot in that trunk."
"And you regained consciousness when?"
"I have no idea how much time passed. All I know is that the car wasn't moving anymore. I remember hearing a loud thud. I think it was the sound of the trunk slamming shut."
"So he had actually opened the trunk?"
"I think so. I'm guessing that it was the fresh air that revived me."
"What did you do?"
"Nothing. I was afraid to make a noise. I knew the guy had a gun.
"So you lay there in the dark?"
"Yeah. I was still sort of out of it. It was hard to breathe in there. I just tried to listen."
"Did you hear anything?"
"Not at first."
"Did you eventually hear something?"
"Well, the gunshot, for sure. It was so loud."
Andie said, "The car wasn't far from the scene of the shooting. And I'm sure the alley amplified the sound."
"I knew it had to be nearby. That's when I lost it. This probably wasn't very smart, but I started screaming and kicking against the quarter panel."
"Did you hear anything before the gunshot?"
She nodded and drank from her cup of ice water. "I heard a man's voice."
Do you know who it was?"
It sounded like the man who abducted me."
What did he say?"
It was just one word. He shouted somebody's name, I think."
"A name?" said Andie.
"Not a common name. It was…heck, what was it, now? I remember thinking it was like one of the characters on the reruns of that old Bill Cosby show. The son."
"Theo?" her mother volunteered.
"Yeah," said Sylvia. "Theo."
"Are you sure?" said Andie.
"Positive. He yelled out the name Theo. And then I heard the gunshot. Is that helpful?"
Andie closed her notepad. "It could be," she said. "Definitely could be."
Chapter 19
Jack, Uncle Cy, and Trina rose as Theo's surgeon entered the waiting room. For Jack, it was like trying to read the faces of jurors at the end of a trial, until the doctor removed his surgical mask.
"Your nephew is one lucky man," he said, smiling.
Cy nearly collapsed with relief, and Jack held him up by the arm. "Theo's going to be okay then?" said Jack.
"Fine," said the doctor. "Head wounds always bleed like crazy. Fortunately, the bullet never actually penetrated the skull. Chipped off a small piece of it, but never penetrated."
"So what's his prognosis?" asked Jack.
"Excellent. Full recovery."
"How quickly?" asked Trina.
"We'll keep him here overnight for observation. He has a concussion and should take it easy for a couple of days. The wound needs to be covered for about a week to prevent infection."
"That's it?" said Cy.
"Some scarring. The bullet ripped a two-inch cornrow down his scalp. I used as many subcutaneous stitches as possible to minimize the railroad-track effect, but it won't be perfect. For most guys, that wouldn't be an issue. But your nephew wears his hair very short, so I can refer him to a plastic surgeon to help improve the looks of it."
"Is he awake?" said Jack.
"Should be coming around any minute. We used a mild anesthesia."
"Can we see him?"
"Sure. Normally it's one visitor at a time in recovery but at this hour you've practically got the place to yourself. Go for it."
They thanked him and found Theo behind a beige privacy curtain in the recovery room. The bed was adjusted to put him in a seated position, and Theo was noisily sucking down the last few drops of a juice box. The right side of his head was covered with bandages, but otherwise he looked pretty good.
Trina planted a kiss on his lips before he could say anything. She checked out the bandage as she pulled away. "Does it hurt?"
"Not as much as a Prince Albert."
She smiled. "How would you know, wimp?"
Cy went around the bed and congratulated him on dodging another bullet – literally. Jack said, "How do you feel, big guy?"
"Like I been drinking cheap tequila all night."
Jack knew that feeling – thanks to Theo. "Police are downstairs," said Jack. "I'm sure they'll want to know if you got a good look at the shooter."