9

It took a lot of wheedling, but the hospital finally agreed to allow Eddie a peek at Mount Sinai’s latest Jane Doe.

Jack had never been particularly enamored of hospitals, but after Gia and Vicky’s ordeal earlier this year, he’d developed a definite aversion. The last time he’d seen the inside of one had been May when he and Abe had visited Professor Buhmann after his stroke. Right here at Mount Sinai, in fact.

The old guy had moved on to a nursing home, and then last month he’d matriculated to the Great Lecture Hall in the Sky. A grieving Abe had dragged Jack to the memorial service.

“They say she’s still unconscious,” Eddie said.

They stood in a foyer as he waited for security to escort him up to the floor.

Jack nodded. “Figured that.”

After all, she wouldn’t still be listed as a Jane Doe if she could tell them her name. Jack and Eddie used to play Master of the Obvious as kids. He wasn’t going to bring that up now.

Visions of Gia and Vicky inert in their beds with tubes running in and out of them flashed through Jack’s brain.

“If it is her, how are you going to prove you’re related?”

Eddie shook his head. “Damned if I know. They asked me if I had a picture of her. Are they kidding? Who carries a picture of his sister? Do you carry a picture of Kate?”

“No. But maybe I should.”

“Oh, hell, Jack. I’m sorry. I heard about Kate. I should have said something. She was a . . . a wonderful person. And your dad. That was the most bizarre damn thing. My condolences. I would have said so earlier except . . .”

“Don’t give it another thought. Let’s think about Weez. You have a key to her place, right? If Jane Doe is Weezy, you could match it up with a key in her bag.”

“Except this lady’s bag was stolen from the scene of the accident.”

“Swell.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “What kind of person sees somebody knocked down by a car and the first thing he thinks of is snatching her purse? I’m glad I live in Jersey.”

“Right,” Jack said, feeling suddenly defensive. “Like that would never happen in Newark or Paterson.”

A uniformed security guard arrived then.

“This won’t take long,” Eddie said as the guy guided him toward the elevators. “All I need is a peek.”

“If it’s her, you let me know ASAP and I’ll come up.”

He hoped not. Under any circumstances it would be kind of strange to reconnect with Weezy after all these years. But Weezy in a coma . . . he couldn’t bear the thought of that unique, bright mind with the power cut off.

As an elevator swallowed Eddie, Jack wandered around to kill time. He found a Starbucks Kiosk and was going to grab a coffee of the day when he realized one of the patrons—a skinny, shaggy-haired guy—looked familiar from the back. He wandered closer and recognized Darryl. As he looked up Jack quickly turned and wandered away. He wondered what Darryl was up to. He’d noticed a Band-Aid in the crook of his arm. Blood tests? He didn’t look happy to be here. In fact, he looked damn scared.