Big Shot Read Free Page A

can give you is that she’s being treated.”
    Durk understood rules, but he’d never been too keen on following them. “I’m the only one here to make sure she’s taken care of. You want me to cooperate, then do the same,” he said.
    It was a bluff. He’d cooperate and do what was best for Meghan no matter what they did or didn’t tell him.
    “Wait here,” the nurse said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
    A couple of minutes later, she returned with a man in a white physician’s lab coat. The apprehension on the man’s face as he stuck out his hand was anything but reassuring.
    His handshake was firm as he introduced himself as Dr. Levy.
    “I’m Durk Lambert, and I appreciate you talking to me.”
    “I understand you’re a close friend of Ms. Sinclair,” the doctor said, his voice matter-of-fact.
    “Yes,” Durk agreed even though it was an exaggeration. “How serious are her injuries? I mean, are we talking critical?”
    “All I can tell you now is that her condition is being assessed.”
    “Exactly what does that entail?”
    “Examination, routine neurological tests and a CAT scan.”
    “Is she conscious?”
    “She’s alert, but exhibiting altered mental status.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “She’s confused. That frequently goes along with a concussion. But we do need to contact a family member. That’s the one thing you can do at this point to help your friend.”
    “I’ll take care of that,” Durk said. “In the meantime, I want to make certain that Meghan receives the best care possible, even if that means airlifting her to a different facility.”
    The doctor’s brows arched. “At your expense?”
    “Yes. I can sign whatever is needed.”
    “That’s a very generous offer, Mr. Lambert, but there’s no reason to move her at this time.”
    “In that case, when can I see her?”
    “That depends on her progress and the test results, but likely within the next several hours. It will be good for her to hear a familiar voice—unless there’s some reason why seeing you would upset her. There isn’t, is there?”
    “No.”
    “Then I’ll let you know when you can see her.”
    Durk reconsidered his answer to that last question as he walked away. He and Meghan hadn’t parted on the best of terms. Not that she’d made a scene. Meghan Sinclair was not one to lose control. But she’d clearly dumped him.
    That had been two years ago. When he’d recommended her professional services to his brother Tague just months ago she’d accepted and done a bang-up job.
    She’d moved on. For all he knew, she was in a serious romantic relationship. The thought bothered him, though it shouldn’t. He’d bow out quickly enough if he found out that was true.
    It wouldn’t change the fact that he planned to make damn sure that whoever did this to Meghan would not get off scot-free.
    But the first order of business was contacting Ben Conroe. He searched for a quiet space. When he found none, he walked outside and into the gathering twilight. The siren of an incoming ambulance punctuated the brisk air as he called Meghan’s office.
    He got a busy signal instead of the answering machine, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, that meant Ben was still at work. The office was on the second floor of a three-story office building across the street from a strip mall only a few blocks away.
    Durk jogged to his truck and a few seconds later was heading out of the parking lot. He dialed the number again as he sped toward her office. The line remained busy.
    He glanced at his watch as he parked in the mostly empty lot. It was ten before six. He entered and raced up the stairs to the second floor. He tapped on the closed door to her office. When no one answered, he pushed it open and stepped inside.
    Ben was there, but he was not on the phone. He wouldn’t be talking—not now and not ever again. A bullet had apparently ripped through his brain.
    Durk went into defensive mode instantly, reaching for the