“Hey Doc you got a sec?” Stopping dead in her tracks, Doctor Amy Little turned as the voice hollered through the halls. “Can I help you?” “Detective Mark Decker. Can I ask you a few questions?” She looked him up and down. His badge clipped to his belt. “Sure. Follow me Detective.” Leading him to the doctor’s lounge, luckily no one is in there. “Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?” “Just some cream please. Thank you.” Sitting across from each other. “What would you like to know?” “Last night you operated on a gunshot victim.” “I did yes. What of it?” “He’s a suspected drug dealer.” “I figured as much. What does that have to do with you?” Taking s sip of her coffee. “There’s been some shootings what we believe are gang related. But there is nothing that ties them together.” “So what do you want with me?” “Did he say anything about who shot him?” Shaking her head. “Not a word. He was unconscious when he was brought in, and hasn’t woken up yet. No family has been in as far as I know.” “Do you have a name?” “Wait here.” Getting up Amy put her cup in the sink and walked out of the lounge leaving him sitting there.
Mark watched her leave, she is an impressive woman. Her long hair pulled into a tight ponytail, her dark blue scrubs clinging in certain places on her body. Pulling the file on her he as on his phone, she doesn’t look like the photo he has of her.
She worked her ass off in school and graduated at the top of her class, and with no student loans to her name. The door opened making him push his phone back in his pocket. Any got one of the tablets, bringing up John Does chart. “Here we are. John Doe roughly 30 years old brought in with serious GSW through and through. Was there a bullet found at the scene?” “Not that I’ve heard. My partner is checking all that. What was in his person effects?” “There in his room. Follow me.” Taking his cup, Mark followed her out, making sure his badge is showing. Heading up to the ICU its well after ten at night, visiting hours are long over, so they don’t have to worry about family.
Pushing open the door, the sounds of machines beeping. “He’s in a coma and on a ventilator.” “Will he wake up?” “We just have to wait and see.” She walked over to a bag sitting by the bed. “Here we are.” Mark pulled a pair of gloves from his coat pocket. Going through the bag, there isn’t much there. His ripped clothes, black runners, a silver watch, some loose change, but no wallet, no keys. “Do you think he was robbed?” “Possible.” Setting the bag back down, Mark made a couple notes and pulled the glove off. “Is there anything else you can tell me?” Shaking her head. “Not that I can think of.” Checking his watch he pulled a card from his pocket.
“If you can think of anything, or if anyone comes to see him, give me a call.” “Of course. My shift is over, and I need some sleep. It was nice to meet you.” Mark left first, Amy watched him get on the elevator. Turning back to her patient. “What did you get yourself into? We’ll see you tomorrow.” Closing the door she made some notes on his chart, Amy made her way to the locker room, and changed from her scrubs. Back to her jeans and black shirt grabbing her coat and backpack, making her way down to the main floor, taking the elevator.
Walking out into the cool night air, pulling her jacket tighter, it’s the beginning of March, the air is still cold.
Walking to her car, it feels like someone is watching her. Taking a look around the parking lot, there’s no one there. Climbing in her little red Chevy cruise, backing out of her spot. Making one stop at the store for some food, with the crazy hours she’s been working there’s nothing left in her fridge. Loading up her bags, there’s a note on her windshield. Plucking it off. ‘Stop talking to the cops!’ Looking around, there’s no one there. Grabbing a tissue carefully she wrapped the note in it, and set it in her bag. She’ll call detective Mark in the morning. Heading home, as she pulled into the underground parking, pulling into her spot. Taking a deep breath. “It’s okay. It was just a joke. You don’t have to worry about anything.” Getting out of her car, surveying the garage, there’s no one around.
Grabbing the mace from her bag, setting it in her jeans pocket, just to be safe. Heading up with her groceries, she quickly made her way to the elevator. She lives on the fourth floor. She’s lived in the building for three years now, and loves it. “Come on you dumb thing.” The doors finally opened, rushing out her apartment is at the end of the hall. Even though Amy has lived here for three years, she doesn’t know any of her neighbors. Getting her key out, once she’s safely inside her apartment, she can figure out what to do with the note. Putting her groceries away she can’t stop thinking about that note. Who would send that? Putting her shopping bags back in the cupboard, going back to the living room, there isn’t much to see really, even though she’s been here for three years, her living space is bare.
Very few photos, a brown leather couch, TV mounted on the wall, hardwood floors. A shelf in the corner with a few books and CD’s. Blue drapes hanging off the windows. The main reason fell for the apartment, it has floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. Amy took her bag, sat on the couch, started going through it.
Pulling her food containers, they have to be washed. Finding the tissue and Mark’s card from her bag, setting them on the coffee table. Not sure what to do right now. Deciding she’ll call him in the morning, Amy took her dishes to the kitchen, made herself something to ear before she turns in for the night. In the middle of making some pasta, Amy’s phone started going off. “Hey Barb. What’s going on?” “You’re John Doe flat lined, but we got him back.” “God! How long did he code for?” “It took about a minute to get him back. There’s still no signs of him waking.” “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Hanging up, she scooped a bowl of spaghetti she returned to the living room, and settled on the couch turning on the TV. Sighing, it feels so good to be sitting down. Being a surgeon you don’t get to sit very often.
“Hey Mark.” Looking up from his desk, a tech is standing in front of him with a file in his hands. “Have a seat. What do you have for me?” “The striations on the bullets match from each crime scene.” “So that means same shooter, was there anything else found?” “Some DNA but there aren’t any matches as of yet. You will be the first to know it there is. We found a bloody shoe print, it’s a male size 10 we’re working on that now.” “SO really we’re no further along now then we were before.” “Sorry boss. We’re doing our best.” “I know you are, I’m sorry. I’m just sick of getting nowhere.” “We’ll find them. I know we will.” He left the file on his desk and walked away going back to the lab where he feels more comfortable. He likes the lab techs, but they don’t like being in the bull pen. Pulling out the file he has on Amy, looking at the photo of her. She’s a very impressive woman. Seeing his partner approaching with two cups of coffee, setting the file back in his desk he brought up the DMV hoping he will find something in them.
“Hey. You got anything?” “No. we are looking at the same suspect for all the shootings.” “Well that’s something I suppose. Have you found anything that connects them all?” “Nothing that I can find. The only thing that makes any kind of cense. They have to be drug related. Someone moving into the city.” “Taking out any competition.” Mark nodded. “That’s what I think.” “Something else that doesn’t make any sense, every other shooting, there were no camera’s in the area. But this last one, it was out in the open.” “Do we have the footage yet?” “Should be soon. Last I heard they were tracking down all the cameras in the area. But that will be hours of footage to go through.” “I know, but if it will help, then that’s what we have to do.” Soon enough the end of his shift came.
Logging out of his computer, gathering his things, he left the building heading home. An idea coming to him. “Hey Terry, you got a friend in the FBI right?” “Yeah.” “Can you call him and see if they know of any new players in town, that we haven’t seen yet.” “I’ll look into it.” “Thanks.” Hanging up, Mark climbed into his black for ford escape heading home.