Gun Games - Faye Kellerman [113]
Chapter Thirty-three
When Marge walked into the hospital room, Gabe was asleep, a book lying on his lap, spine down and opened. Rina was reading in the chair next to his bed. She gave Marge a small wave. “He’s knocked out.”
“Sedated?”
“No, just sleeping from pure exhaustion.”
“I hate to do this to him.” Marge held up two photo arrays. “You know how it is. Time matters.”
Rina nodded and gently shook his shoulder. Gabe stirred, inhaled, and then winced.
“I’m up, I’m up.” He opened his eyes. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry to wake you, sweetheart.” Rina gave Marge her chair. “This is Sergeant Dunn.”
“Hi.” He sat up, then grimaced. “I think we’ve met.”
“Probably at Sammy’s wedding.”
“Yeah, I was there . . . me and five hundred others.”
“We invited everyone to my son’s wedding,” Rina said. “It doesn’t pay to make enemies.”
“If you ever need enemies, I could loan you a few.” Gabe turned to Marge. “What’s up?”
“I’d like to show you a couple of photo arrays.” She handed him the first one with Dylan Lashay. “See if anyone looks famili—”
“This one.” Pointing to number four. “This is Dylan.”
“You’re sure?”
“The dude shot me. Couldn’t be more positive.”
“Can you circle your choice and sign your name?”
“I can do that.” When he was done, he gave her back the sheet of paper. “Next?” When Marge handed him the girls, Gabe said, “This is Cameron.” He took the pen, circled her picture, and signed it. “What else?”
All business. “If you’re up to talking about it, I’d like to hear what happened.”
“Can I call Yasmine again?” Gabe said out of nowhere.
“She’s talking to detectives, Gabe.”
“Is her mom with her?”
“Yes.”
“Does she hate me . . . her mother?”
Rina said, “Of course she doesn’t hate you. You saved her daughter’s life.”
Marge said, “Actually, she expressed concern for your welfare.”
“So maybe on balance, it’s good I got shot. I got the pity factor working for me.”
Rina said, “You don’t need the pity factor to be appreciated. I think Sergeant Dunn needs to ask you some questions.”
“Are you up to talking about it?” Marge asked.
“Sure,” he said. “Something to distract my mind before I go under the knife. Or the laser.” He looked at Rina. “Did they find the surgeon yet?”
“They did. He’s coming in . . .” She looked at her watch. “In forty minutes.” She stood up. “I’m going to catch a breath of fresh air. Do you need anything?”
“I can’t friggin’ eat until I go into surgery, so I guess the answer is no.” His face became angry. “I hurt and I’m starving. This sucks.”
“Yes, it does.”
“You know, Rina, do you have enough time to get me my glasses? My eyes are killing me.”
“Not a problem.”
“Thanks.” A pause. “And you’re going to be here when the surgeon comes in?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks for staying with me. I mean, I’m not really your responsibility.”
“Gabriel, you most certainly are my responsibility.” She kissed his greasy hair. “And I love having you as my responsibility. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Can you adopt me?” Gabe said.
“I would be happy to adopt you, but your parents wouldn’t approve.”
“I don’t see either of them here to object.”
“Your father will be here soon.”
“Yeah, when he gets a moment,” Gabe said. “But hey, I’m not bitter.”
Rina kissed his head again. “I’ll get you your glasses.”
“Thanks. And my acne medication?”
“Sure.”
“Did you call Nick?”
“Yes, I called Nick. He wanted to come down right away, but I told him to hold off until after the surgery.”
“What’d he say?”
“That he was horrified.”
“How about Jeff Robinson?”
“I didn’t speak to him. I’m sure he’s horrified as well.” Rina gave a wave at the door. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”
Gabe turned to Marge. “What do you want to know?”
Marge took out her notepad. “I wonder if I can set up a tape recorder inside a hospital . . . whether it’ll interfere with anything.”
“Fine with me.”
“Yeah, I suppose if someone has a cow, I can always turn it off.” She set up the machine on a tray next to the bed. “So why don’t you start from the beginning.”
“It’s a long story.”
“Good. Be as detailed