dear?”
Janine gave a meek smile. “One of them’s kicking,” she said.
Wexler ’s eyes widened. “Twins?” he said, excitement evident in his voice.
“ I just found out. I was waiting to tell Elias and you when we got back. It looks to be a boy and a girl.”
“ Oh, some great grandparents are going to be happy soon.” Gran reached over and tapped Wexler on the leg. He gave a broad smile. Gran turned and eyed Hannah with a raised eyebrow and a mocking smile. Hannah responded by rolling her eyes.
Brandon returned to the previous conversation. “Has your husband said anything specific of late? Maybe he mentioned something about people after him?”
“ No, but he can be all secretive and stubborn,” Janine said.
“ Sounds about right,” Hannah interjected. “I guess some things never change.”
Turning his gaze to Wexler, Brandon awaited a response.
“ When he asked me to come along, he said there was a big market here for illegal foods. Truffles being one of the biggest.” Wexler frowned and said, “He didn’t trust local law enforcement.”
Brandon stiffened at Wexler’s words, but said nothing. There was a pause before Janine gasped again.
“ Oh. They’re feisty tonight. Must be all the ruckus.”
“ It does stir them up,” Gran chimed in. Nodding toward Hannah, she added, “She almost kicked her way out of her momma.”
Brandon frowned and gave a nervous smile. Closing his small notepad, he nodded, and reached in his pocket to produce a small business card. “If you remember anything else, call the station. Somebody is going to get assigned to this case and they’ll put you in touch with them.”
Brandon turned to leave, but stopped. “I hope your husband gets better, Ms. Babel.”
With that, he turned and exited the ER back in the direction from where they entered. She pondered the question she posed to herself earlier about his involvement. If he is, he’s a pawn , she determined. She shook her head to clear it and berated herself. Second person you talk to this about and already you put him on the potential list. Get your head in the game, Hannah .
After Brandon disappeared from sight, Hannah took in a deep breath and held it for a second. She then let it out at a slow, deliberate pace. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, trying to go over everything she knew thus far once again.
W hen a doctor approached, everyone stood as he came before them.
“ Ms. Babel?” the doctor asked, looking to Hannah first then to Janine.
“ That’d be me,” Janine responded, raising her hand.
Glancing him over, Hannah noted the solemn look on his face. Late 40s/early 50s. Balding. Goatee, and mustache. Brownish gray. Fit. Medium height. Medium weight. Odd gait.
“I’m Dr. Tompkins. Mr. Babel's headed to surgery. He suffered a pneumothorax injury, meaning a broken rib pierced and collapsed one of his lungs. They will assess the extent of damage in surgery. He broke the left arm, upper and lower, as well as a femur in his leg. I’m assuming he landed on that side.”
Hannah affirmed the doctor ’s suspicions, describing the event scene as she saw it. When she finished, Dr. Tompkins said, “Well, as you can imagine, he also has a concussion. Now, what happened to him is horrific, but considering the height you reported that he fell from, I’d say his surviving is a miracle.”
Placing her hand on her chest, Janine said, “Oh, I agree, one hundred percent.”
Wexler placed his arm around his daughter and pulled her tight, next to him. Protective , Hannah filed.
“ He’s going to be in surgery for a while, so you might want to settle in. After he’s out, Dr. Ratliff will give you an update. He’s the surgeon handling your husband. From there, we’ll put him in recovery for a time. After that, we’ll move him to ICU. We’ll keep him sedated and bring him out slowly. He’s going to be in a world of hurt when that happens.” He stood still for a second, before
Learning to Kill: Stories