And Mick was true to his word: Thanks to a quick hundred grand taken off his debit card, Vin was out of the police station and getting into his buddy’s Mercedes by ten thirty a.m.

Getting released was hardly cause for celebration, though. As they went over to the Commodore, Vin’s head was an utter mess, spinning out of control as he tried to find some kind of inner logic to the whole thing.

“Vin, buddy, you’re going to listen to me because I’m not only your frat brother, so you can trust me, but I’m also your lawyer. Do not go to the hospital. Do not talk to Devina. If she calls or reaches out to you, do not interact with her.” The Mercedes eased to a halt in front of the Commodore. “Do you have an alibi for where you were between ten and twelve last night?”

Staring out the windshield, Vin remembered exactly where he had been…and what he’d been doing. The decision was clear. “Not that I can give the police. No.”

“But you were with someone?”

“Yes.” Vin opened the door. “I won’t be involving her—”

“Her?”

“You can reach me on my cell phone.”

“Wait, who is this ‘her’?”

“None of your business.”

Mick braced his forearm on the steering wheel and leaned across the seat. “If you want to save your ass, you may have to reconsider that.”

“I didn’t hurt Devina. And I have no idea why she would want to frame me for this shit.”

“You don’t? She know about this ‘her’ of yours?”

Vin shook his head. “No, she doesn’t. Call me.”

“Don’t go to that hospital, Vin. Promise me.”

“Not where I’m headed next.” He shut the door and strode over to the Commodore’s entrance. “Trust me.”

CHAPTER
26

The St. Francis Hospital complex was laid out with all the logic of an ant farm. Reflecting an iterative architectural philosophy, like so many medical centers of its kind, the buildings that covered its acreage were a hodgepodge of styles, and they were positioned where they could be squeezed in, like round pegs shoved into square holes. On the campus, you had a little bit of everything from Gothic brick, to institutional steel and glass, to sprawling be-columned stone, with the only commonality being that everything was cramped.

Jim parked his truck in a lot next to a fifteen-floor high-rise, and figured this big daddy was a good bet to start with, as it was where he’d been admitted as an inpatient from the emergency room. Cutting through the rows of cars, he crossed the lane and went under the porte cochere, entering the building through a set of retracting glass doors.

At the information desk, he said, “I’m looking for Devina Avale.”