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Amata got the impression not much got by him. Damn, if she didn’t know any better, she swore those two guys came straight from central casting.
“Let her go in the ambulance with him.” The sandy-haired man nodded to his partner. “Boris and I’ll be right behind her.”
Not giving the guy a chance to change his mind, she raced around the two detectives and rushed to the ambulance. When she made a move to get in, the EMT put a hand up and looked behind her.
He must’ve gotten an okay from the detectives and he waved her in.
Scrambling to sit at Claude’s side, she grasped his hand of the arm unencumbered by an IV, and didn’t let go.
The ride with the sirens blasting and lights flashing seemed to last forever. The only thing that kept her steady was watching Claude’s chest move up and down with help from the temporary ventilator.
One of the EMTs was on the other side and continually checked Claude’s vitals.
She wasn’t sure if she was grateful or annoyed the guy didn’t tell her anything.
Soon, the ambulance backed up, and the doors swung open. As the gurney lowered, a group of doctors and nurses surrounded Claude as they wheeled him away. The medical professionals acted with lightning efficiency. Their voices rang out in a chaotic chorus as they called out Claude’s vital signs.
Amata raced in after him but halted when a set of double glass doors stopped her from going any farther.
“Ma’am, are you with that man they just brought in?” This came from a fresh-faced receptionist holding a clipboard. “We’re going to need some information. Please come this way to fill out this paperwork.” The woman pointed to a set of chairs by the door.
“Can you tell me how he is?” Amata took the clipboard and clutched it to her chest. Her eyes filled with tears. “He was so still in the ambulance.”
“Just as soon as we hear anything, we’ll let you know.” The young woman’s calm reply reassured. “Come, sit down. You can help him by filling this out and giving us as much information as possible.”
“Oh, okay.” She wiped her tears away and sat. She stared at the blurred words on the clipboard she held in her lap.
“Do you need help with this?” It was the sandy-haired detective who took a seat on her right. He indicated the clipboard.
“Don’t you dare.” The African-American man sat on her left. “Nobody can read your scribble. Ma’am—“ He leaned in and opened his palm. ”—give it to me, and we’ll help you fill in what they need.” When she handed him the clipboard, he nodded. “I’m Detective Boris Steel, and my companion next to you is Detective David Ruffin. We’re from the Atlanta Police Department. We’ll take things nice and slow so you can tell us what happened. That okay with you?”
The unexpected release between her tense shoulders made her eyes fill with tears again. “Yes, thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Okay, let’s start with your name.”
Detectives Steel’s and Ruffin’s never-ending barrage of questions finally came to a mind-numbing close. Before they left, they gave Amata their business cards and made her promise to call if she thought of anything else.
The only thing she wanted to think about was Claude’s condition. The hours dragged and still no one came out to tell her anything. When she asked about his condition at the nursing station, they told her that since she wasn’t a family member, they couldn’t discuss anything with her. The stern glare the receptionist gave Amata didn’t leave room for argument.
Well, she never let a little thing like bureaucracy stop her before, and she’d be damned if she did now. Thank the Goddess the police gave her cell phone back. She stood in front of the glass windows, blindly looking out into the night, and didn’t hesitate to press the short key to Jordyn.
“Auntie? You okay? Wait, you’re not okay. I can feel you’re upset. What’s going on?” Jordyn’s psychic powers must be getting stronger if she could catch how Amata felt over a phone.
She heard a man’s grumble the background. Oh, she must’ve called in the middle of the night on the West Coast, catching Jordyn and Michael sleeping.
“It’s Amata. Something bad happened, and she needs our help.” Jordyn’s voice was distant as she answered her sleeping husband. “Oh, my God! Is he okay?” Her voice was back. Trust Jordyn to get to the point without Amata having to explain anything first.
“I don’t know! The assholes here won’t tell me anything because I’m not family!”
A nurse walked by with his eyebrows raised.
Amata turned and put her hand around the phone’s speaker. “I don’t think he’s going to make it. Are Michael or any of his brothers free to come here and check things out for me?” She didn’t want Jordyn traveling so far when she had to take care of baby Thea.
“Michael’s talking to his brother Raiden.” Perhaps telepathically. “Hang in there, and I’ll call you right back.”
Amata frowned and clicked the call off. Staring at her reflection in the glass, she clenched her hands and zoned out. With a quick glance around the empty waiting room, she considered getting some coffee at a vending machine across the room.
The phone rang.
