The 7th Victim - Alan Jacobson [156]
Gifford strode in and sat down behind his desk. He leaned back and sighed. “I know you and I have not always seen eye-to-eye, but I’m ready to move past all that. You came through big time. I know there were others on the task force, but you were a big part of the winning team. Good work, you made us proud.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“There is something I wanted to talk to you about. It’s a step toward regaining your job, assuming, of course, you’re cleared by judge and jury.” He scanned his desk, moved a file, and found the document he was looking for. “Here’s a list of three Bureau psychologists. Pick one and make an appointment.”
She took the paper. “A shrink?”
“A shrink. It’s for your own good. Anger management, for one. OPR will want to see that in order to clear you of their own investigation. Also, given all the crap you’ve just been through, and are still dealing with . . . it’s for your own good, really.”
Vail pursed her lips. She couldn’t argue with that. “Okay, sir. I’ll make an appointment.”
Gifford nodded, then his phone buzzed. “Go home and get some sleep. Get that knee of yours examined. I want you back full strength when the time comes.”
She smiled, arose gingerly from the chair, and then left.
seventy-four
Vail walked, or rather hobbled, back to her car feeling no pain. And it was not just from the Tylenol she kept popping. It was because for the first time she could remember, she had been afforded the respect she thought she had always deserved but had never received. She climbed into her car, pulling in the left knee slowly, then headed out of the commerce center’s parking lot.
She intended to heed Gifford’s advice about getting some sleep, but first she needed to make a stop. She arrived at the hospital, made her way up the elevator to Jonathan’s floor, and heard “Code Blue! Code Blue. All available personnel. . . .”
Her brain still in a stupor, her mind suddenly focused on a grouping of white lab coats at the entrance to Jonathan’s room. “Oh, my God!” she gasped, then took off down the hall, fearing the worst. Thoughts pored through her mind as she whizzed by the rooms along the long corridor: he was doing so well! Small steps, pieces to the puzzle. My son, my son. . . .
A group of hospital personnel in scrubs ran past her down the hallway. In the back of her mind, Vail realized the emergency was for another patient on the floor, not Jonathan. But she was not completely tuned into her thoughts yet, and she fought through the mass of white coats congregated in the doorway, grabbing and pushing bodies aside. The interns were huddled around Altman, who stood beside Jonathan. Her son’s eyes were open and he was smiling.
“Mom!”
“Jonathan?” She stepped forward, arms outstretched, and an instant later felt his hands on her back, patting her gently. Finally, she released him and leaned back to look at him.
“We thought you’d come sooner,” Altman said. He was standing off to Vail’s right, smiling.
“Sooner?”
“I had the nurse call you last night. When you didn’t answer, they left a message on your machine.”
“I was inaccessible,” was all Vail said. She turned back to Jonathan, who appeared thin, pale, and drawn. “You look tired.”
“I am. I’ve been sleeping but I feel exhausted.”
“I haven’t been sleeping, and I’m also exhausted.” She hugged him again. “It’s so good to have you back, sweetheart.”
“Let’s let him rest,” Altman said. He looked out amongst the medical students who were still gathered around the doorway. “Anyone have any questions?” No one spoke. “Okay, let’s find out where that code was, and see how it’s going.” The crowd began to disperse, and Altman turned to Vail. “We’ve got a few days of testing and monitoring to do, and then he should be ready to go home.” He placed a hand on her back, indicating it was time for her to leave.
“One thing—” she looked at Jonathan. “Do you remember what happened, how you ended