“White coats and expensive pens. They’re administrators. Maybe they have the access to open the dispensary, maybe not.”
Cooper took in the room. About fifty people, with more coming in. There were a few scattered patients. A handful of nurses laughed at one table, but they presented the same problem as the administrators. And residents were out.
“There,” he said.
Still toying with her hair, she followed his gaze to a middle-aged man in pale-blue scrubs crumpling his napkin and tossing it atop the remnants of a cheeseburger. “How do you know?”
“The hair on his arms thins out at the forearms, and the skin is pinker. That means he washes his hands all the time, washes them hard. Plus, his nails are cut to nothing. Taken together, that tells me he’s in surgery a lot. A surgeon will have the access we need. And look at the circles under his eyes. Exhaustion. Probably working a twenty-four-hour shift. Makes him an easier target.”
“You got all that from a quick glance across the room?”
“Yeah, I know, weird way to look at the world.”
“No,” she said. “No, it was hot.”
“Right.” He felt oddly self-conscious and gave an aborted laugh.
Shannon leaned back, her expression quizzical. “You need to spend more time with your own kind, Cooper. The straights have you thinking twisted.” Before he could reply, she rose and started walking in one smooth motion. It wasn’t that she was fast, so much as that she was calculated; as if for every motion she applied the exact force needed. It was like watching a cat jump to a table, instinctively determining the precise force and angle needed to land without an inch or calorie wasted.
The surgeon had risen and was walking his tray over to a garbage bin. Shannon circled the table of nurses, slipped between two sad-faced women, cut back across the floor, and then stepped out of nowhere and into the man’s path. They collided. He almost lost the tray, the plate and cup slipping to the edge, then managed to get it under control as he apologized, stepping back and blushing. Shannon shook her head, assured him it was her fault, laughed, patted him on the bicep, and came back carrying the man’s ID badge.
Cooper smiled into his coffee cup.
They finalized their plan in the elevator. As he understood hospitals, small stores of the most commonly needed medications were kept on every floor. But Shadow wasn’t standard stuff. It would be kept in a single location, well secured and carefully monitored.
After they split up, Cooper paused at the corner and counted ten Mississippis. Then he put on a confused expression and started forward.
The dispensary was part storeroom, part pharmacy. A counter opened to a window behind which a man and a woman counted pills. Cooper went to the counter. “Excuse me, can you guys help?” Saying you guys to be sure he had the attention of both of them, and leaning on the counter, drawing their eyes away from the back. “I am so freaking lost. This place is huge! It’s like a maze. I don’t know how you find anything here.”
“What are you looking for?”
“I mean, my God. I’m trying to visit my niece. I started out just the way they said. Turned right, went straight, turned left. I found the elevators okay, but that was the last time I knew where I was. I feel like I’ve been wandering for weeks. Pretty soon I’m going to have to eat my shoe for provisions.”
“Well, tell me where you’re trying to go and I’ll help you.”
Over the pharmacist’s shoulder, Cooper saw Shannon cross between a row of shelves. She winked at him. He smiled before he could catch himself, then went with it, said, “Sure, sure. That’s just what the last guy said. I think he must have had a bet with someone. See how long he could keep a guy wandering. You’re probably in on it.”
The tolerant expression was starting to slip. “Sir, I can’t help you if you won’t tell me where—”
“I told you, I’m trying to visit my niece.”
“Yes, but where is she?”