Free Shade City by Domino Finn Page B

I didn't know anyone was here."
    The words repeated again in a thick accent. "Who are you?" He was Armenian, I thought. They have a sizable population in LA, and I'd been on one or two dates with Armenian chicks—but my expertise stopped there.
    "I'm a friend of the family, actually. I knew his daughter V—Aster. I just wanted to see how he was doing."
    The large man took a step forward. "He's in coma."
    I nodded in agreement of the astute observation. But it was more than a simple statement. It was a suspicion of my motives. It was a dismissal of any further questions I might have.
    "Are you a friend of Alexander's?" I asked.
    He sized me up. The Armenian man's face was made of sharp lines, a pointed noise, and taut lips. He was taking my curiosity very seriously. "Do we know you?"
    "N—no. His daughter, I said—"
    "What's she want?"
    I stared momentarily, unsure how to answer the strange question. It was clear this man didn't work for the hospital, but if he had any association with Alexander, he seemed unaware of the details of his life.
    "She's dead."
    The large man snorted and puffed his chest out. "Time for you to go."
    His request was so abrupt that I didn't know what to do. My inaction didn't do me any favors. I was becoming increasingly aware of the man's poor attitude (and possible intention to do me harm) when a shrill voice interrupted us. Another man joined us in the hospital room.
    "What have we here?"
    He was a mousy man with wiry glasses. He had gray-brown hair on the sides of his head and a mustache, but his crown was just as bald as the Armenian's. This one, however, was clearly a businessman of some sort. He wore an old brown suit with a light blue shirt, no tie.
    "You said you were a friend of Aster's?" he asked.
    "Yes," I agreed quickly, "back—before..."
    The next instant found me at a loss of words. It would have been easier to lie about being a friend of Violet's in life if she had ever shared anything with me. The older man must have noticed my hesitation, because he cut in.
    "Yes, it was all very awful," he said. "It still pains me to think about it. I'm Mr. Glickman, the family attorney and agent holding Mr. McAllister's power of attorney." The lawyer handed over a business card with the announcement and I took a cursory look at it for show.
    "Who are you?" repeated the large Armenian man, as if it was my turn to repay the favor.
    "I'm Dante. I didn't know I'd be interrupting anything. I really just wanted to see how he was doing."
    The lawyer waved his hand in the air. "Oh, it's not a problem. Don't let Bedros here scare you. I'm a lawyer so I prefer to garner information through discourse. This oaf is a bodyguard so you can imagine his intentions."
    "I already have." Bedros grumbled like some kind of giant troll who'd been held back by a collar. "What use does a comatose man have of a bodyguard?"
    "Yes, yes, I know it's ridiculous," said Mr. Glickman. "Alexander was a kind man who didn't have enemies to speak of. His affairs in this matter, however, are ultimately his own. He continues to employ some associates through prior arrangements. It's his father's empire that follows him. Bedros here is a bit callous and will take offense at anyone besides myself or the medical staff approaching Mr. McAllister, but the whole thing really is quite harmless. Assuming, of course, that your business here is legitimate."
    I couldn't tell if the lawyer was threatening me or not, but I'd about run this thread as far as I cared to for the moment. I took another quick look at Alexander.
    "What's his outlook?"
    "He has the resources to continue paying for life support, if that's what you mean. He has been popping in and out of a coma for weeks now and the neurologists are confident he could theoretically function properly one day—that is, the damage he sustained has been mostly healed—but we simply don't know enough about the brain to understand what is preventing his recovery."
    Well, it wasn't a shade,