Buried Memory by Adam J Wright

Author:Adam J Wright [Wright, Adam J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-04-14T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

The hospital where Felicity had been admitted was situated on the bank of the River Thames, overlooking expensive riverfront properties with a view of the Parliament Buildings farther downriver. I found her room after being told at the front desk which ward she was in. It was a regular, mundane hospital, but the Society owned a couple of wards, and employed a compliment of private doctors and nurses that had received training at the Academy of Shadows as well as their usual medical qualifications.

I went up to the ward in the elevator, holding a bouquet of flowers I’d bought at the shop downstairs. The bouquet consisted mainly of hyacinths and daffodils in bright spring colors. It would add a little color to Felicity’s room and hopefully cheer her up when she regained consciousness.

On the ward, a nurse asked to see my I.D. before she’d let me see Felicity. I obliged, showing her my P.I. card, and was shown to the open door of a room. I thanked the nurse and went inside.

The lights had been turned down low. Felicity was lying in the bed with her eyes closed, an IV tube snaking out of one arm. She looked peaceful and her pulse and oxygen levels, displayed on the machines by the bed, were normal.

I felt relieved that she was in good hands now, as far as medical care went, and she seemed to be doing okay.

“You must be Alec Harbinger,” said a male voice from the shadows by the bed.

I started, almost dropping the flowers. A young man with neat, short hair, and dressed in a shirt and tie, got up out of the chair next to the bed and came over to me, hand outstretched. “I’m Jason Farmer, Felicity’s partner.”

We shook. He had a weak grip and I felt like I was crushing his hand with my own, stronger handshake, so I made it brief.

“You’re the person she worked for,” Jason said. “The investigator of the supernatural.” There was a definite note of disdain in his voice and I noted his use of the past tense.

I placed the flowers gently on the table by the bed. “That’s me,” I said.

“So can you tell me what happened to Felicity?”

“What did the doctors tell you?”

“That she was in a plane crash and she suffered a concussion.”

“Then that’s what happened.”

He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer. He pointed his finger at me in a manner that was probably supposed to be threatening but failed miserably. Jason was thin and weedy. He was nothing like the muscled Adonis I’d imagined whenever Felicity had mentioned him. “Look, I have a right to know what happened to my girlfriend. Just because she went gallivanting off to America doesn’t mean you can hide things from me. I know there’s more to this than meets the eye.”

“Did the doctors say she’s going to be okay?” I asked him.

He dropped his finger. “Yes, in a day or two.”

“Then that’s all you need to be concerned about. She’s going to be fine.

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