hold back,” Harp told her.
“Harp!” Barney said.
“Dad!” Logan chimed in at the same time.
“What?” Harp asked.
Logan took a breath, then said to the doctor, “How is he?”
“Better than when he came in. He’s got two broken ribs, a fractured cheek, numerous cuts and bruises. He definitely didn’t come out the winner.”
“What about the other guy?” Logan asked.
“As far as I know, the police are still looking for him.”
“Was he drunk?” Harp asked, his eyes flicking toward the receptionist.
She hesitated. “Typically, that would be confidential, but I don’t think it would be a problem to tell you he had no trace of alcohol or drugs in his blood.”
“So he wasn’t drunk,” Harp said.
“No. He wasn’t.”
Harp looked at the receptionist again, his eyes hard and narrow. “You should tell your staff that so they’ll stop making false accusations.”
The doctor looked back at the woman, sighed, and turned to Harp. “I’ll have someone talk to her.” Her tone made it sound like this wouldn’t be the first time.
“I know visiting hours aren’t for a while yet,” Logan said, “but is there any chance we can see him now? We came straight here the moment we arrived in town.”
Dr. Ramey considered it, then nodded. “Sure. For a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” Logan said.
“This way.”
As she led them to the door, the receptionist looked over with both surprise and disapproval. Harp stared back at her, then said in a whisper loud enough for everyone to hear, “He wasn’t drunk.”
They passed examining rooms, a nurses’ station, and a lunchroom before turning down the hallway that served as the ICU. Dr. Ramey explained that while Pep’s life wasn’t in danger, it was still important to keep an eye on him in case there was any internal damage they hadn’t been able to diagnose. She asked them to wait a moment then went off to talk to one of the nurses.
When she returned, she said, “All right, he’s awake. Remember, not long.”
“We’ll remember,” Logan promised.
“On the other side of that curtain,” she said, pointing at one of the patient stalls lining the right side of the corridor.
Pep’s bed had been raised so that he wasn’t completely flat on his back. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and the other looked like it wanted to be. There was a bandage across his chin and another on his forehead above his left eyebrow. But even then, the look on his face was stoic, as if nothing had happened.
“Pep? I’m Logan Harper, Dev’s friend. How you feeling?”
“Mr. Harper. Kind of you to come by.” There was a dreamy, drug-induced quality to the man’s voice.
“I’m Harp.”
“And I’m Barney.”
The corners of Pep’s mouth turned up a fraction of an inch. “Hey.”
“Can you tell us what happened?” Harp asked.
“What happened when?”
Logan gave him a smile. “We hear you were in a fight.”
“Fight? Oh, yeah. You mean last night. Not sure you could call it that. A fight takes two people. As far as I can remember, I was only a spectator. Or the punching bag. I guess that would be more accurate, huh?”
“Did you see him?”
“If I did, I don’t remember.”
“Did he take anything?” Logan asked. “Was it a robbery?”
“Don’t know. Haven’t checked. The nurse says I still have a wallet, but my phone…” He seemed to lose focus.
“What about your phone?”
“It, uh, got broken in the fight.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
Pep concentrated for a moment. “Just that he knew where Sara was.”
“That’s it?”
Pep was quiet for a moment. “I…I’m not sure.”
Whatever drugs Pep had been given were clearly starting to affect him. “Can you tell us why you were there?”
“Getting my car.”
“Why was your car there?”
“Oh…uh…was showing the girl’s picture…around…at bars.”
“Any luck?” Harp asked.
Pep looked like he was going to say something, then his eyes fluttered, and
“Harp!” Barney said.
“Dad!” Logan chimed in at the same time.
“What?” Harp asked.
Logan took a breath, then said to the doctor, “How is he?”
“Better than when he came in. He’s got two broken ribs, a fractured cheek, numerous cuts and bruises. He definitely didn’t come out the winner.”
“What about the other guy?” Logan asked.
“As far as I know, the police are still looking for him.”
“Was he drunk?” Harp asked, his eyes flicking toward the receptionist.
She hesitated. “Typically, that would be confidential, but I don’t think it would be a problem to tell you he had no trace of alcohol or drugs in his blood.”
“So he wasn’t drunk,” Harp said.
“No. He wasn’t.”
Harp looked at the receptionist again, his eyes hard and narrow. “You should tell your staff that so they’ll stop making false accusations.”
The doctor looked back at the woman, sighed, and turned to Harp. “I’ll have someone talk to her.” Her tone made it sound like this wouldn’t be the first time.
“I know visiting hours aren’t for a while yet,” Logan said, “but is there any chance we can see him now? We came straight here the moment we arrived in town.”
Dr. Ramey considered it, then nodded. “Sure. For a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” Logan said.
“This way.”
As she led them to the door, the receptionist looked over with both surprise and disapproval. Harp stared back at her, then said in a whisper loud enough for everyone to hear, “He wasn’t drunk.”
They passed examining rooms, a nurses’ station, and a lunchroom before turning down the hallway that served as the ICU. Dr. Ramey explained that while Pep’s life wasn’t in danger, it was still important to keep an eye on him in case there was any internal damage they hadn’t been able to diagnose. She asked them to wait a moment then went off to talk to one of the nurses.
When she returned, she said, “All right, he’s awake. Remember, not long.”
“We’ll remember,” Logan promised.
“On the other side of that curtain,” she said, pointing at one of the patient stalls lining the right side of the corridor.
Pep’s bed had been raised so that he wasn’t completely flat on his back. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and the other looked like it wanted to be. There was a bandage across his chin and another on his forehead above his left eyebrow. But even then, the look on his face was stoic, as if nothing had happened.
“Pep? I’m Logan Harper, Dev’s friend. How you feeling?”
“Mr. Harper. Kind of you to come by.” There was a dreamy, drug-induced quality to the man’s voice.
“I’m Harp.”
“And I’m Barney.”
The corners of Pep’s mouth turned up a fraction of an inch. “Hey.”
“Can you tell us what happened?” Harp asked.
“What happened when?”
Logan gave him a smile. “We hear you were in a fight.”
“Fight? Oh, yeah. You mean last night. Not sure you could call it that. A fight takes two people. As far as I can remember, I was only a spectator. Or the punching bag. I guess that would be more accurate, huh?”
“Did you see him?”
“If I did, I don’t remember.”
“Did he take anything?” Logan asked. “Was it a robbery?”
“Don’t know. Haven’t checked. The nurse says I still have a wallet, but my phone…” He seemed to lose focus.
“What about your phone?”
“It, uh, got broken in the fight.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
Pep concentrated for a moment. “Just that he knew where Sara was.”
“That’s it?”
Pep was quiet for a moment. “I…I’m not sure.”
Whatever drugs Pep had been given were clearly starting to affect him. “Can you tell us why you were there?”
“Getting my car.”
“Why was your car there?”
“Oh…uh…was showing the girl’s picture…around…at bars.”
“Any luck?” Harp asked.
Pep looked like he was going to say something, then his eyes fluttered, and
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