Private Rogue

Chapter 21

Most of the people around me wore the same strained expression. Worry pulled their features tight, conversations were quiet, smiles false and fixed. I was in the emergency room in the Mid-Hudson Hospital in Arlington. I’d ridden in the ambulance with Jessie, who’d been knocked unconscious in the collision. Ted Eisner had been brought along in a separate vehicle. The tough old veteran had insisted Jessie go first, so I’d been in the waiting area when he was wheeled in, sitting upright on the gurney, complaining to the paramedics that they were being overcautious and that he was, in his own words, “As spry as a prime steer.”

There were a dozen people in the waiting area. A couple had been there longer than me, but most had come in after I’d arrived, a little over an hour earlier. The waiting area was made up of six rows of ten green plastic chairs. I was sitting opposite the vending machines on the same side of the room as the reception desk, watching the double doors that led to the ER ward.

I sensed movement to my left and saw Rafael Lucas, Private’s go-to New York attorney. Rafael was a Spaniard who worked for one of the world’s largest law firms. He was an elegant, handsome man from an old aristocratic Cantabrian family, and there was a hint of the 1930s in the way he dressed. He was wearing a black herringbone top coat, tailored suit and waistcoat with shirt and tie. He looked out of place in this provincial hospital.

“You OK?” he asked as he took the seat next to mine.

I nodded.

“And Jessie?”

“She was pretty beat up when I pulled her out,” I replied. “They’re checking her now.”

“I guess I owe you,” a voice said behind me, and I turned to see Ted Eisner scowling and not looking the least bit grateful. “I told the damned quacks there was nothing wrong with me. Now I’ve got to deal with all the goddamned insurance paperwork.”

“Do you know who those men were?” I asked.

“No. And I don’t know you either,” he snapped.

“I told you, Mr. Eisner, my name is Jack Morgan and I run Private, a detective agency. This is Rafael Lucas, my legal counsel. I’m looking for Elizabeth Singer, and I need to find her before the men who assaulted you do.”

Ted fixed me with a hard stare. I could sense him taking the measure of me.

“What do you reckon they want with her?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but it’s clear they’re prepared to kill to get it.”

“And what do you want from her?” Ted asked.

“Someone who loves her has hired me and my organization to bring her back safely,” I replied. “I want to help her.”

A medic in blue scrubs came through the double doors and scanned the room. His eyes settled on me and he headed over.

“Mr. Morgan?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Your colleague is asking for you.”

“How is she?”

“She has a fractured rib and some minor contusions, but she seems OK otherwise. We’d like to keep her in overnight to rule out any neurological damage, but at this stage I don’t expect any complications. She should make a full recovery.”

“Give me a second, please,” I said, and the medic nodded and went to wait by the doors to the ER. “Please, Mr. Eisner, we just want to help Beth. If you know anything...” I left my remark hanging.

He shook his head and looked down at his feet, which kicked aimlessly at the linoleum.

Giving up on Ted, I turned to Rafael. “Coming?” I asked, and he nodded.

We headed for the emergency room, and that was when Ted Eisner finally spoke.

“I have a tracker on my car. Put it on a couple years ago when they offered me a discount on my premium. I gave Beth my car.”

“Thank you for trusting me, Mr. Eisner. I appreciate it. Can you find out the details?” I asked Rafael. “Give them to Maureen Roth. See if she can get a fix.”

Rafael nodded and hung back to talk to Ted.

I followed the medic through the double doors and along a corridor into the emergency room. Bays were separated by screens and drapes, but I still managed to see some of the human misery concealed within: a man with a bloodied stomach who looked as though he’d been stabbed; a kid with a broken arm; an emaciated woman who was totally out of it, being questioned by a doctor who was asking about her opiate intake.

The medic led me to the sixth bay, and behind the curtain I found Jessie sitting up in bed. She was wearing a hospital gown, and pulled up a thin blanket when I entered.

“I’ll leave you to talk,” the medic said, before withdrawing.

“Sorry, boss,” she said.

“What for?” I asked.

“Not being quick enough. Letting myself get taken out.”

“Don’t even start,” I said. “They were pros. They would have made rough work of anyone.”

“Well, I feel bad about it.” She moved and immediately grimaced.

“How do you feel?”

“Like someone dropped an elephant on my chest. They want to keep me overnight.”

“That’s OK. I’m going to follow up a lead,” I said. “Ted Eisner’s car is fitted with a tracker. He lent it to Elizabeth Singer.”

Rafael entered, his phone to his ear.

“Mo-bot has been able to get a location,” he said after he hung up. “The vehicle is parked outside a motel in Bloomsburg.”

“You bring a car?” I asked, and he nodded. “I want you to stay with Jessie a while. Make sure she’s OK...”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she cut in, but I ignored her.

“Take care of any insurance and bills, and make sure she rests,” I told Rafael. “You know how stubborn she is.”

Jessie scoffed and immediately gasped in pain.

“The silver Mercedes M-Class parked out front,” Rafael said, handing me his car key.

“Thanks,” I replied. “I’m going to drive out to Bloomsburg and see if I can find Beth Singer and the kids.”

“Be careful, Jack,” Jessie said.

“Always,” I replied.