I nodded in understanding. “I know. I just want you to try the best you can. Work with Shiloh. Anything is better than what they had. I just feel so horrible about the situation.”
She patted my hand as I stopped at the stoplight that would lead us to the hospital.
“And what about that other little boy? How’s he doing?” She asked.
I smiled happily.
“Much better, actually. They said he opened his eyes yesterday. I was going to stop in and see Nathan since I’ll already be up on the ped’s floor,” I informed her. “But we have to be back at your house by twelve so I can make my one o’clock class. Okay?”
Georgia nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. Then I can be there in time for Nico to go to work, and we won’t have to call your mom to watch the kids.”
I held up my thumb in a ‘good’ gesture, and opened my car door.
I blinked at the cop cars that were lined up at the front entrance of the hospital.
“What’s going on?” I asked the woman that was standing in front of my parked car.
The woman turned and shrugged. “I don’t know. They’re not letting anybody in or out.”
Picking up my phone, I called Michael.
“Hello?” Michael answered.
He sounded distracted, but that wasn’t going to stop me from getting inside.
“Hey,” I said. “We’re outside the ER entrance and there’re a bunch of people outside the doors. What’s going on?”
He cleared his throat.
“There was another murder,” he said softly. “Give me a few minutes to come down and I’ll escort you inside.”
Chapter 11
Don’t make fun of a woman with big lips. She’s probably thick and tired of it.
-E-card
Michael
“Where was this one from?” I asked Agent Palmer gruffly.
Agent Palmer offered me a file folder, and I steeled myself before opening the offending folder.
What I saw did not disappoint.
“Goddammit,” I said, clearing my throat. “Why another one so fast?”
“All of these have happened within the last three weeks. Roughly every three days. This is correct with that timeline,” he admitted softly.
“Well that would’ve been news you should’ve shared yesterday seeing as this happened today and here I am again,” I muttered, staring at the scene in front of me.
I wasn’t a detective.
I didn’t have the patience to be one.
Being a detective took dedication, time I didn’t have, and serious patience and perseverance.
I had the dedication and the perseverance, but not the other two.
Which was why it was confusing to me that I was here at a crime scene looking at the carnage that was left behind.
There weren’t any bodies left because those had gone to the hospital the moment the first responders arrived.
The man, the killer, had fucked up.
He’d done them in a good neighborhood.
The type of neighborhood that, if they were to hear gunshots, the cops are called almost immediately.
First responders had arrived within minutes, and both the woman and the man that’d been shot had been rushed to the hospital.
They weren’t expected to live, although the last I heard they were both rushed to surgery.
There wasn’t much they could do when the couple was shot in the head, but they still had to try.
“Who is this one with?” I asked, surveying the scene.
“Wolfgang Amsel worked for Karnack Police Department. His wife, Abby Amsel, was an accountant for Roscoe and Rush Accounting firm. Abby was eight and a half months pregnant with her first child,” Agent Palmer informed me.
I nodded.
The name sounded so familiar, but I couldn’t place the name with a face.
“What doctor’s office do these women go to?” I asked, the thought suddenly occurring to me.
“The Women’s Center of East Texas for this one. The others are various ones of the Ark-La-Tex,” he said. “But all of their systems interconnect since the doctors float throughout the offices.”
I turned my head to look to the kitchen counter.
On the counter was the officer’s service weapon, badge, and various accessories he wore on his utility belt, car keys, and his phone.