Judy lifted it, scribbled the question How do you feel? and then turned it toward Gabi.
“Like garbage,” he heard Gabi say.
Gabi laid her hand over Judy’s before she could write another question. “Tell Val I’m fine.” The words were almost a whisper this time . . . evidence that Gabi couldn’t hear her own voice.
Judy looked at Hunter. “Does she look fine to you?”
No. She looked tired, injured, drugged. “There isn’t anything Val can do, even once they get here. Put the man at ease. Tell him what the nurse told us. Broken arm, temporary hearing loss.”
“What if it isn’t temporary?”
Hunter’s nose flared. “There still isn’t anything Val can do. Give the man something to hope for.”
Judy nodded and wrote a note. Calling your brother. Love you.
Gabi tried to smile before closing her eyes.
Judy left the room and Hunter moved to the chair beside the gurney and sat while Gabi slept.
He slowed down . . . to the beats of her heart on the monitor . . . Hunter paused his life.
Every once in a while a loud noise would present itself outside the door of her room, and he felt her jolt. Proof she was hearing something even as she slept.
The phone in his pocket buzzed, rocking him out of his thoughts. He answered when he saw Remington’s number. “I don’t have time for you right now.”
Silence.
Hunter waited, and then bit his lip.
“Get my message?” The Hispanic voice filled the call.
You’re a dead man sat on his lips. Practicing the patience life was teaching him. Hunter said, “Yes.”
“No cops, Mr. Blackwell.”
“Questions will be asked.”
“Questions you can divert. Ten million . . . cash.”
“Not possible.”
“Shall I blow up a day care, Mr. Blackwell?”
Hunter now knew what it felt like to have his balls in a vise. “When?”
“I’ll be in touch.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Pause . . . Pause everything.
Easier said than done.
Random car explosions had a way of attracting police attention. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, Gabi wasn’t able to communicate with the authorities. The amount of friends that exploded on the scene was ridiculous. And to sweeten the pot, the media had parked themselves outside the hospital doors in search of a story.
Hunter looked around the lobby of acquaintances and found one set of stoic eyes. He waved Neil over and suggested they find a quiet, private place to talk.
“The police are asking questions,” Neil told him once they were alone.
“The caller said no police.” Hunter ran a hand on the back side of his neck.
“Tell me exactly what he said.”
Hunter rephrased the first conversation on the phone, and then told Neil about the second. “Both times, the phone calls came in from phone numbers I recognized. First was Gabi’s cell, then a colleague.”
“So our guy has hacking skills.”
“How can he do that?”
“Same way someone sends e-mails about Viagra to you using Grandma’s e-mail address. All you need is a contact list.”
Hadn’t Remington said that his phone had been jacked in Columbia? “Fuck.”
“He had a thick Hispanic accent.”
Neil scowled. “Like, say, a Colombian drug lord?”
Hunter came to the same conclusion. “Have you heard from your people in Florida?”
“I have the name Diaz. No description. From what I’m told, he has all his dirty work done for him. His drug operation is well-oiled, and if anyone on his route is caught, they end up dead. Looks like he has ties to the prison system in Colombia, as well as Florida and Texas. He’s been quiet since Picano’s last shipment ended up in the bottom of the ocean.”
Hunter shook his head. “I deal with corporate sharks, Neil. This is out of my league.”
“Lucky for you, I’m not out of mine. I’ll have my cyber team work on the cell phone calls. You need to convince Gabi to accept a house arrest until we solve this. We can protect her there.”
“The car was in our garage this morning.”
“Didn’t you tell me it was in the shop last week?”
He’d forgotten that.
Neil moved on. “I’ll check on that. Most likely our guy used that opportunity.”
“How did he know there was an opportunity to take?”
“He’s watching you. Watching Gabi.”
Hunter found himself looking around.
“What about Hayden?”
“It’s easier to protect him in your home.”
“I don’t have custody yet. If I mention any of this to the mother, she’ll run to the wrong people, painting a target on both of them.”