After settling in, I tried to make a little small talk, asking my brother how paramedic school was going and if Dolores’s granddaughter got into Syracuse. I really didn’t care about Dolores’s granddaughter. And I knew my brother was doing well because I checked on him almost every day. It’s tough to make changes like my brother had. He went from a successful drug-dealing career to trying to make something out of his life. If I didn’t realize how difficult that transition could be, I did now. And as much as he frustrated me, I was really proud of him.

Hospital waiting rooms are a scary prospect. Not only are you there because something’s gone wrong with someone you love, but you have plenty of time to think about it.

When Bill Jeffries sat down next to me, I asked him if he had any details about what happened to my mother.

“Nothing, really. She was exiting through the back of the hospital. She likes to park high up in the lot in case it rains. Just one of her cute little quirks. She was hit on Johnson Street.”

I could tell by the careful tone of his voice that he had stronger feelings for my mother than he let on. I wondered if it was mutual. I just wanted her to be happy. He seemed like a decent guy. There’s not much else a son could ask for his mother than her meeting a decent guy.

Bill cleared his throat, then said, “Two eyewitnesses said a blue SUV came down the street kind of fast and hit your mom. The witnesses said the SUV didn’t slow down. We got half the Newburgh Police Department out searching for an SUV with front-end damage.”

I said, “Did the witnesses get a look at the driver?”

Bill shook his head. “They couldn’t even agree on the exact color of the SUV. One said it was a lighter, bright blue. The other witness swore it was a dark blue. No plates, can’t ID the driver, and already looked at any security footage on the backside of the hospital. The cameras don’t cover much more than the walkways to the main doors.”

I may not have ever been a cop and didn’t have any formal training as a private investigator, but something inside me said this was no accident. I had to get some time to think where I wasn’t worried about my mom or how other people were reacting. I needed to figure this out.

My brother, Natty, joined Bill and me in the corner of the waiting room. Bill said, “I’ve never seen you visit the hospital before, Natty.”

He shrugged and said, “Mom sort of banned me a few years ago.”