Free Lightning by John Lutz Page B

way.” He sat down on the bed and held her, waiting for her to cry, but she didn’t.
    She sucked in a deep breath and lay back. He noticed that she cocked her head slightly to the right on the pillow so she could hear him better with her left ear. Her face was dark stone. “Keep me informed on what’s going on, Fred. When I get out of here, I want to help you pin this on whoever’s responsible.”
    “Maybe Norton really did act on his own.”
    “I don’t think so.”
    Neither did Carver, but he didn’t say it. He angled his cane and stood up from the bed.
    “Do you know a tall, broad-shouldered man with black horn-rimmed glasses and a blond crew cut?” Beth asked.
    “No.”
    “He was wearing a dark blue suit, white shirt, and red tie. I thought he might be police.”
    “Maybe he was. Or FBI. Where’d you see him?”
    “He stepped into the room earlier today, while a nurse was in here. Then he only smiled, nodded, and turned around and left. I thought he might be one of McGregor’s men, looking for you.”
    “Could be he was. Or just some guy who wandered into the wrong room.”
    “He was kind of creepy. That’s why I thought he might be connected to McGregor.”
    “Logical,” Carver agreed. “Creepy how?”
    “I’m not sure. I guess because he was so perfectly groomed and conservatively and neatly dressed that it almost had to be a front. He was like an automaton who’d been to Brooks Brothers.”
    “Ask a nurse who he is,” Carver suggested.
    “I did. The nurses don’t know him. And he was such a straight-arrow, all-American WASP, I’m sure they’d know who I was describing if he worked here at the hospital.”
    “A visitor, then. Here to see one of the patients.”
    “Maybe.”
    “You’re worried about him.”
    “Yes. I’m not sure why, but I am. He seemed surprised to find a nurse with me. Or more like disappointed. I got the feeling that he had the right room and he’d come in for a reason, then changed his mind.”
    Carver didn’t see much basis for her fear, but he’d come to trust her instincts. “I’ll find McGregor,” he said, “and see if there can be some protection assigned here for you.”
    “I don’t think there’s much chance of that,” Beth said.
    Carver didn’t either, actually. “I can spend the night here.”
    She shook her head and smiled, then winced at some sudden pain in her damaged body. “That’s not necessary, Fred. I’m probably just more suspicious than usual.”
    “No one could blame you.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “You’re a woman who was blown up.”
    “Fred, if you learn anything pertinent you think might upset me, I want you to tell me anyway. I need to know the truth about this.”
    “So do I. That’s why I’ve been looking into it.”
    “And you think it might be as simple as a deranged man planting a bomb all on his own during a pro-life demonstration?”
    “Might be.”
    “You wouldn’t lie to me, Fred?”
    “Of course not.”
    She grinned and glanced at her wristwatch propped on the table so she could see the dial. “You had supper yet?”
    “Sure. Down in the cafeteria.”

11
    D USK HAD CLOSED IN while Carver was in the hospital. He walked across the lot to where the Olds was parked, all by itself now near the stone wall and the line of palm trees swaying in the breeze as if they were doing a lazy hula.
    As he neared the car, he reached into his pocket for his car keys. The keys jingled softly as he pulled them out and reached for the door handle. The wind kicked up harder, making the hula more hectic, and rattled the palm fronds above his head.
    “Fred Carver, isn’t it?”
    A man’s voice, neutral.
    Carver turned around expecting to see a tall, crew cut WASP wearing a business suit and dark-rimmed glasses. Instead he was looking at a dumpy little man wearing a rumpled gray suit with a tie that was too long for him and whose pointed end dangled almost at crotch level. If he wore glasses they were