Walking down the hallway, she was struck by how different this building was to Felipe’s. Bale’s hallway had fresh paint on the walls, a runner up the middle of the hardwood floor, and a tall potted plant in front of the window at the end.
Details could only distract her for so long. Eventually, Harlow ended up at his door. She smoothed her top, and licked her lips. “Here we go,” she murmured and knocked.
It was early evening, so there was every chance that Bale would be on shift. Whether he was in or not, whatever his work schedule, day or night shift, he’d be home, or due home, eventually.
Harlow was prepared to wait.
The door opened. Instead of the tall, dashing doctor who she was expecting, there was a blonde woman, about Harlow’s height, on the other side. A very pregnant woman.
In all the time she’d spent at Bale’s, Harlow had never seen a girlfriend or any indication that he had one, and she’d seen inside his closet.
“Can I help you?” the blonde asked, resting a hand on her belly.
Without any idea how long she’d been standing there gaping at the woman, Harlow couldn’t judge the blonde’s level of impatience, especially when she looked so uncomfortable just being on her feet.
Snapping from her daze, Harlow stuttered to life. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was… I was looking for someone. I thought he lived here… Do you live alone?”
The blonde’s discomfort level dropped to make way for anger. “No,” the woman said, copping an attitude. “I’ve been living here with my husband for two months. If you’re one of George’s desperate skanky hos who followed us here to—”
“No,” Harlow said, holding up both hands and backing away. “I’ve never met George. I… I’m sorry, it’s a misunderstanding.”
She fled without waiting to hear anything else. Dover, Noon, and Maze weren’t the only ones who’d vanished. Bale was gone too… at least, he wasn’t where she expected him to be.
It was possible the doctor had relocated his residence after Hagan’s men had descended on them the night she and Ryske bolted. Not only would that have been a strategic move, it would’ve been a smart one too. Ryske hadn’t told her there was any plan for the doctor to move, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.
Going to the hospital would be the only way to know for sure if Bale was still in town. The hospital where Ryske had died.
For that, she was going to need reinforcements.
“Howdy, stranger!” Harlow called, trying optimism on for size when Clyde came around the corner onto his block.
Having known when her friend finished work, she’d killed some time getting food. Handing over the wrapped burger she’d bought for him, Harlow looped an arm through his and turned him to walk away from his building.
“Howdy?” he asked, examining the burger like he was wondering what it was. “Where have you been? Where did you spend last night? You couldn’t have called or—”
“I’m sorry, I fell asleep.”
“Fell asleep where? You were gone all day.”
His questions were justified. But, if she gave him the truth, he’d make judgements and there wasn’t time to debate the merits of sleeping in her dead boyfriend’s bed.
Shrugging him off, Harlow pulled herself closer. “I’ll tell you all about it later. In the meantime, how do you feel about taking a little ride across town with me?”
“Across town where?” Clyde asked, peeling back the paper from his burger.
He’d just taken a bite when she responded. “I need to go to hospital.”
Stopping, he turned, panic in his eyes. “Hospital?” he said, burger filling his cheek. “What’s wrong? What happened? Damn it, you should’ve come to the office if you were sick or injured.”
Widening her smile, Harlow projected nothing but positivity. “I’m not sick or injured,” she said, pulling him to the curb so she could hail a cab. “And I can’t come into the office. I don’t want Gina to know I’m around. She’s connected to Hagan.” They got into the cab and she gave the address. “You didn’t tell Gina you saw me, did you?”
Though he was still eating the burger, she got the sense he wasn’t enjoying it much. “Did I… No, I didn’t,” Clyde said. “You know how she is. Gina doesn’t rub shoulders with the underlings unless we’re screwing up or she’s taking credit.”
Looping her arm through his again, Harlow settled against the seat. “It’s sort of comforting that some things don’t change.”
He took another bite of his burger and swallowed before talking again. “If you’re not sick or injured. Why are we going into a hospital?”
The poor guy had been pulled into something that had nothing to do with him. Harlow wasn’t being fair, but she had no intention of endangering him.
“Oh, I’m not going in,” she said, taking Ryske’s money clip from her pocket to pull out the bills that they’d need to pay for the ride.
“I don’t get it,” he said. “And where did you get that?”
Fingering the bills, she counted how much was left. “It’s emergency money,” Harlow said, guessing that’s why Ryske had kept it in his underwear drawer.
“Where did you get it? And why aren’t we going into hospital if we’re going there?”
Clyde had a great way of asking more than one question at once, which worked for her. It meant that she could choose to answer the one that appealed to her and ignore the others. “I am not going in, you are… At least, I’d like you to… if you don’t mind.”
The frown on his face was more than confused; he was working hard to figure her out. “You want me to play sick?”
Being patient, Harlow had to take a breath and be more explicit. “No, I want you to ask about a doctor,” she said. “Do you remember the man who came to Floyd’s the night…” She swallowed. “That last night?”
“He worked on Ryske. Yeah.”
More than once. Bale had worked on Ryske before the night the bullet had ended him. A stab wound had brought them together. During Ryske’s recuperation their relationship had grown. Harlow would’ve given anything to live those two weeks again. She’d give anything to have another minute with him. Another second.
Knowing how dangerous the path of ‘what if’ was, Harlow forced herself to focus. “That doctor works at this hospital, or he used to. I went by his apartment today and he was gone. I just want to know if he’s still in town.”
“I don’t understand, the doctor’s gone too?” Clyde asked, folding his empty wrapper into his pocket. “Why would he—”
“I don’t know,” she said because at that moment, figuring it out was beyond her.
All she’d been told by Bale was the he was close to Ryske. Bale had said he wasn’t on Ryske’s crew, so she didn’t know why he’d be included in any contingency plan that involved getting out of Dodge.
For three months, she’d kept her distance. For her sanity and because she hadn’t been capable of holding herself upright. Facing any of the men who reminded her of the one she’d lost would’ve ended her. Except, now Harlow was facing the possibility that she’d lost them all and it could be for good.
She’d meant to embark on a path that would avenge Ryske; she hadn’t meant to stumble onto a new mystery.
Clyde seemed intrigued too, which worked in her favor. “You don’t want to go in and ask for him yourself?” he asked.
The full truth was a little more than she was comfortable admitting. Harlow went with listing various other reasons why it wasn’t a good idea for her to go back to the place where Ryske had taken his last breath.
“Someone from that night might remember me… I made a scene,” she said. “There might be cops around too. I have a loose idea what Bale told them, but it would be helpful to talk to him before talking to them… just to make sure our stories match.”
Those reasons were valid and all true. None of them were the main reason for her being hesitant to walk into that ER again.
Accepting her rationale, Clyde nodde
d. “And if this Bale isn’t there?”
Then either he’d vanished with the others or the cops hadn’t liked his story and he’d needed her more than she realized. Jumping to conclusions would only make her freak out. Before she did that, she needed more information.
Harlow inhaled. “I’ll figure that out once we find out what the hospital staff know.”
“What’s his name?”
“Doctor Bale Urban.”
“What am I supposed to say about why I’m asking?”
From her time with Ryske and his crew, she’d learned a few things. Harlow wasn’t used to being a mentor; Ryske and the guys would’ve known on instinct how to play it. Clyde needed a softer, more thorough approach.
“Just tell them your mother was an ex-patient and you want to thank him for his care,” she said.
“Wow,” he said. The sound he exhaled was enough to make her look up at him. “You lie fast.”
Not exactly a quality to be proud of, but one Ryske probably would’ve admired. Regardless, they didn’t have time to deconstruct her personality and how it might have changed since she met the Floyd’s crew.
“Will you do it?” Harlow asked.
His expression became very pointed. “If you tell me the truth about why you don’t want to go in.”
Damn, and she’d believed that he hadn’t noticed her discomfort. Now she sort of regretted that they were looking at each other. Still, given that she was asking a lot of her friend, it was only right that she be honest with him.
The leather on her wrist gave her strength. “He died there,” she said. “They took him away from me in that ambulance bay and I never saw him again… I just… I’m not sure I can.”
With infinite patience, like he probably needed every day on the job, Clyde nodded. “I understand,” he said, pulling her against his side to kiss her head. “I thought it was something like that. Saying it out loud helps the healing process.”
One thing her friend hadn’t gleaned from all her talk was her indifference toward moving on. Harlow didn’t care about healing or the future. The plan was all that drove her forward. It gave her something to shoot for. After it was over, if she was still alive, what lay beyond was uncertain.
Paying the cab fare when they got to the hospital, she elected to stay around the corner out of sight. Or rather, away from the view. Harlow didn’t want to see the alley where she’d waited with the guys to hear confirmation of Ryske’s demise, or the ambulance bay, or any of it. The previous few days had been tough enough; she didn’t need to add gravy to her sorrow.
Passersby gave the crazy, pacing woman some odd looks, but she didn’t care. Those who were native to this area had to be used to stressed pacers given their proximity to the hospital.
It felt like an age later that Clyde came back around the corner. She didn’t even wait for him to get to her, she rushed forward and grabbed him, motivated by hope.
Harlow had gone from worrying about facing the doctor to fearing she may never see him again in less than a day.
“What happened?” she asked, her heart pounding in her throat.
Clyde seemed bewildered, and his shrug genuine, yet something about his demeanor made her hope cool. She dropped her hands from his ribs, sensing what he was about to say.
“He quit.”
Bereft, Harlow slipped backward, coming up against the railing behind her. “He quit,” she whispered.
“Few months ago was all they said. No one wanted to say any more. I tried but… I guess there’s confidentiality.”
It couldn’t have been a few months ago, unless he’d left the same night as the guys. But that made no sense. Someone would’ve had to be around for Ryske, to take care of arrangements. Unless… was her love anonymous? Lying in some morgue or at an undertakers? Labeled John Doe? Unclaimed?
Weight around her heart began to spread, making it difficult to take a full breath. Pressing one hand to her chest, she clung to the railing with the other, struggling to keep herself upright.
“He quit.”
“It’s okay,” Clyde said, putting a hand on her shoulder and moving in closer. “He’s a doctor, he has to work somewhere. We’ll find him.”
She didn’t know if Clyde was being deliberately stupid or if he really thought that would comfort her. Raising her chin to look him in the eye, it was wrong to focus her rage on her friend when really, her rage was a combination of other emotions colliding and seeking an outlet.
Gritting her teeth and drawing in a series of breaths through her nose until she was almost panting, Harlow tried to steady her blood pressure.
Clyde began to pale; his hand dropped from her shoulder. No doubt he could see how strained her control was.
“If Bale left when they left, Ryske was left alone, abandoned,” she growled.
Her friend wasn’t quick to accept that conclusion. “You don’t know that. You don’t know that this doctor left the same day as the others… Even if he did, I… I don’t know…” He ran a hand through his hair while searching the sky. “Maybe they took him with them.”
That was at least shocking enough to shake her from her guilty stupor. “You… you think they stole a dead body from a hospital? Just bundled him up and, what? Dumped him in the trunk to drive cross-country with him? What the hell would be the point of that?” she asked and smacked his upper arm. “And why the hell would you think that would make me feel better?”
“I don’t know,” Clyde said, raising his arms in a wide shrug, then dropping them to rub the spot she’d hit. Releasing a frustrated growl, Harlow spun around to begin marching away from him. “They’re conmen, right?”
Something in the way her friend said that struck a chord. She froze.
Turning slowly, Harlow found Clyde was standing where she’d left him, still rubbing his arm. “What did you say?”
“They’re conmen,” he said, coming to join her though his focus was more on his arm than on her. “You said that on the phone one time.”
“Conmen,” she whispered, disliking the direction of her thoughts.
“Yeah, they’re used to playing people, and playing other people, like actors. I guess it wouldn’t be that difficult to go into a hospital and play porters or something. If they had that doctor’s help, it would be possible… I guess… I don’t know… What do I know?”
Lifting her hand, she glanced at the star on her wrist.
Squeezing her eyes closed, Harlow shook her head, and set her attention on Clyde. “Do you know this neighborhood? I need a burner phone.”
“Uh, yeah,” he said. “We have to come here for kids abandoned in the hospital, accidents, parental deaths, suspected abuse, that kind of thing. I’ve spent some time down here… What were you thinking a minute ago? You got all pale and distant.”
“Nothing,” she said, taking his arm to start them walking. “Show me.”
“You can use my phone if you need to—”
“No, it has to be a burner.”
“Why?”
He’d been such a help that she felt bad for not telling him everything, but he hadn’t exactly been supportive of her goal. Harlow also considered that for Clyde’s own well-being, it was best that he didn’t know too much. If she let him get too involved, he’d be at risk, and she didn’t have the skills to protect him.
“I can’t tell you that,” she said. “But, I’ll get a second one for you to be able to contact me, how’s that?”
For her that was a compromise to be celebrated. Clyde didn’t seem appeased. “I’d feel better if you told me what you were doing.”
“I know,” she said because he was one of the most genuine people she’d ever met.
Harlow wasn’t sure Clyde was capable of deception or misdirection. It was sweet. Clyde did just want to help people. She’d once thought she was like that. Her experience with Ryske had taught her different.
Learning that not only was she capable of deception and misdirection, Harlow was also figuring out that she w
as more cynical than she’d thought, less tolerant, and definitely more bitter.
“I guess if you won’t tell me that, you won’t let me come with you to wherever you’re going either.” He sighed. “Will you come back to mine tonight?” he asked. “I’d feel better if I knew you were safe.”
“I’ll be safe,” she said. “I’ll text you before I go to sleep.”
“Do you want to tell me where you’re sleeping?” he asked, pausing by a convenience store.
Offering a furtive smile, she didn’t answer and just headed inside. Keeping her location a secret made sense. After her meeting tonight, Harlow would be able to firm up her plan, and decide how much more she wanted to share then.
Floyd’s wouldn’t exactly be the last place anyone would look for her if they really set their mind to it. For now, Clyde probably thought she was too fragile to go anywhere near Floyd’s and that was part of the reason she hadn’t wanted to tell him before she went. Until she actually walked in there, the possibility that she’d chicken out was real.
But, after busting her way in and getting the power back on, Harlow knew there was nowhere she’d rather sleep than in Ryske’s bed.
7
Her next meeting was impromptu. After assuring Clyde that she’d be fine, and watching him disappear in a cab, Harlow had gone back to Floyd’s to change her clothes. The caliber of people she’d have to face next would be much higher than the others she’d visited over the last few days. That meant frivolous things she hadn’t cared about since losing Ryske became relevant. Looking the part meant something to these people, so Harlow bit her lip and did her hair and makeup.
Noon had been kind enough to leave his car keys in his sock drawer. Next time she saw him—if she ever saw him—she’d tell him not to be so obvious.
Harlow wasn’t a fan of driving. Noon’s twitchy car didn’t help put her at ease. It didn’t respond like a regular vehicle; it was sensitive to every touch. He probably loved how responsive it was, but she felt like she was learning to drive all over again.
Go It Alone (A Go Novel Book 2) Page 6