Chapter 3 - The Man Who Asked the Wrong Question
Elena was finishing a patient's chart when another nurse approached.
"Someone's asking for you."
Elena stopped typing.
"Who?"
"No idea. Handsome, though."
"That narrows Chicago down considerably."
"He said he's your cousin."
Elena's face changed.
"I don't have cousins in Chicago."
The nurse's smile disappeared.
Elena remembered Damian's warning.
She quietly called hospital security.
Then she walked toward reception.
The stranger wore a navy coat and an easy smile.
"Elena?"
"Yes."
"I'm Paul."
"No, you're not."
His smile faltered.
"You don't remember me?"
"I remember everyone in my family."
His eyes hardened.
Elena noticed his right hand drifting toward his coat.
She stepped backward.
Two security officers appeared.
"Sir?"
The stranger immediately smiled again.
"Wrong person."
He walked away.
Elena watched through the glass as he crossed the street.
A black SUV pulled alongside him.
He climbed inside.
Her phone vibrated.
UNKNOWN NUMBER.
Did someone approach you?
Elena typed:
How did you get this number?
The reply arrived immediately.
Elena.
She called.
Damian answered on the first ring.
"Are you okay?"
"Your creepy surveillance habit is becoming less charming."
"It was never intended to be charming."
"A man just came looking for me."
Silence.
Then Damian's voice turned cold.
"What did he look like?"
She described him.
"Stay inside."
"I'm working."
"Elena."
"I have patients."
"I'll come there."
"Absolutely not."
He hung up.
Twenty minutes later, three black sedans stopped outside St. Agnes.
Elena stormed into the lobby just as Damian entered.
"Are you insane?"
"Frequently."
"You cannot bring your entire criminal parade into my hospital."
Marco appeared behind him.
"That's actually only a small parade."
"Marco."
"Sorry, boss."
Damian looked at Elena.
"Where did he stand?"
She showed him.
"Did he touch anything?"
"No."
"What did he ask?"
"For me."
"Anything else?"
"He claimed to be my cousin."
Damian's jaw tightened.
Marco noticed.
"You recognize the method?"
Damian nodded.
"Victor Doyle."
Elena looked between them.
"Who is Victor Doyle?"
"The man who arranged what happened last night."
"And now he's looking for me?"
Damian didn't answer.
Elena grabbed his sleeve.
"Answer me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because he thinks I told you something."
"You barely spoke!"
"He doesn't know that."
Elena stepped away.
"This is ridiculous."
"I agree."
"I have a life."
"I know."
"A terrible apartment and an even worse bank account, apparently, but it's mine."
Damian's expression softened slightly.
"I know."
"Stop saying that."
"I can protect you."
"From the problem that appeared because I helped you?"
"Yes."
"Do you understand how insane that sounds?"
"Completely."
Elena stared at him.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Stay somewhere safe."
"Where?"
"My house."
She laughed.
Damian didn't.
"Oh, you're serious."
"Very."
"I'm not moving into a mafia boss's house."
Marco raised one finger.
"Technically, it's an estate."
Elena pointed at him.
"Stop helping."
Marco lowered his hand.
Damian stepped closer.
"Two nights."
"No."
"Until I find Doyle."
"No."
"Elena."
"No."
Then a loud crash came from outside.
Everyone turned.
Elena's old car sat in the employee parking lot.
Its windshield had been smashed.
Something was pinned beneath the wiper.
Marco reached it first.
He removed the paper and brought it inside.
Damian read the message.
His face went still.
Elena took it from him.
Three words were written across the page.
YOU FED HIM.
Elena swallowed.
Damian looked at her.
"Still want to take the bus home?"
She stared at the message.
Then at him.
"Two nights."
"Agreed."
"And I get my own room."
"Obviously."
"No locked doors."
"Agreed."
"No investigating my personal life."
A pause.
"Damian."
"Agreed."
Marco opened the door.
Elena walked toward the cars.
She stopped beside Damian.
"If I get murdered because of a turkey sandwich, I'm haunting you."
Damian almost smiled.
May you like
"I'd expect nothing less."
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