Alan only just made his way to bed after an argument with the wife. He’d reached home somewhere near midnight after dropping Vita home. Nicole was not in a good mood and they had argued until the wee hours of the predawn. When he finally settled into bed, it was close to four in the morning.
Having taken out a second mortgage without first consulting with his wife, threw off their budget. Their savings were almost gone, and he could not tell her that he was betting on sports again.
“You’re an investment adviser, how is it that you can’t even manage our money properly?” She spat, her green eyes blazing with anger. “We can’t afford a second mortgage, Alan. You better figure out a way for you to pay off that loan and FAST!”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. This is just a short-term set back. Just stop shouting, it’s giving me a headache,” he said, his voice weary.
“Oh now I’m giving you a headache!” Nicole spewed her venom.
“I’m tired. Can we talk about this some other time?”
“You never want to talk when it’s important,” she retorted. “Is it another woman?”
He rolled his eyes and wearily sat on the bed, holding his head. “How could you ask that?”
“What am I to think? Why take out a second mortgage?”
“I’m not in any trouble, honey,” he softened his voice and tried to let his annoyance evaporate. “It’s a surprise, I promise.”
“It’d better be a damn good surprise!” she threw at him and plopped herself on her side of the bed.
Picking up her hairbrush, she began to brush her hair, still fuming. Alan took the opportunity to settle beneath the covers, turned his back and closed his eyes. There was a meeting first thing in the morning and he needed his wits about him. He’d just dozed off when the phone on the nightstand rang.
“Who the hell is calling at this hour?” he heard Nicole through his sleep.
Still half asleep, he reluctantly reached for the cordless. “Hello.” His voice slurred. In the process, he checked the clock on the nightstand. It was 4:57 AM.
“Alan Smith?”
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sat up. “Yes?”
“My name is Richard Green from the Hospital, we got your number as a primary contact for Quinn Harrison,” the man said.
Alan’s heart began to thud heavily with anticipation. “Are you a doctor, is Quinn okay?” he tried to sound calm but he knew his voice registered anxiety.
“I’m from the administrative office. Mr. Harrison was brought to the emergency room. We needed his next of kin and you were listed as his contact in the case of an emergency,” Mr. Green explained.
“Yes, I’m his emergency contact,” his hand shook as he gripped the phone. “What happened?”
“It seemed he was mugged,” the man replied. “He is in surgery now. The doctors are doing their best to save him.”
“How did he get to the hospital?”
“Someone called 911,” the man said.
“Someone called it in?” he asked.
“Yes,” the man replied. “Will you be coming in to take care of the necessary paperwork?”
“Certainly,” Alan replied, his voice cracking. “I’ll be there shortly.”
His mind was in a daze as he stood and pulled on his trousers. Quinn attacked? He just left his friend at the office a short while ago. How the hell did that happen?
Nicole eased herself up, a deep crease in her forehead. “What happened to Quinn?”
“The doctor said he was assaulted and is in surgery.”
She sighed and rested back against the pillows. “Should I come with you? It’s probably some man’s wife he was messing with.”
He looked sharply at his wife and scolded her. “You don’t know that Nicole. I just left him at the office. I know you don’t like him much, but he’s my best friend, so just leave it alone.”
“I’m sorry, I just know his lifestyle, that’s all,” she apologized. “I really hope he’s okay.”
“Yeah, right,” he snickered.
With a grunt, he picked up his keys and phone, planted a platonic kiss on his wife’s forehead and headed out the door. When he was in his car, he checked the phone and noted that the news had already reached the business community.
“Damn it,” he muttered as he scrolled through the different online news sources.
Some headlines stated that he was killed while others said that he was shot and in critical condition. While he skimmed through some of them, his phone began to buzz. Some of their business contacts were trying to get him as well as the press. In no frame of mind to answer any calls, he switched the phone off and pulled away from his apartment.
He was at the hospital in less than twenty-five minutes. As he dashed through the entrance, he almost collided with a woman leaving. Alan’s eyes followed her as he was sure he’d seen her somewhere before. However, the thought of Quinn pushed her out of his mind. He hurried to the information desk and spoke to the nurse.
“Quinn Harrison was brought in recently. I am Alan Smith.”
After checking her computer, the nurse informed him that Mr. Harrison was still in surgery. The operating theater was near the Intensive Care Unit where the nurse told him they would take Quinn when the surgery was over. He thanked her and moved to the elevators.
Impatient to wait for the lift, Alan opted for the staircase, taking two at a time. The surgery lasted a few hours and by the time the surgeon came out, it was minutes to five in the morning.
“Doctor, how is he?” Alan asked. The doctor looked inquiringly at him. “Quinn Harrison, the man who was stabbed.”
“It was touch and go for a while,” the doctor said.
Shortly after, three nurses pushing a gurney came through the door. Alan’s heart stopped for a second when he saw Quinn. This was strange for Alan, seeing his friend in that condition. Quinn had never been vulnerable to anything. The gurney disappeared and the doctor filled him in on the incident.
“He was stabbed twice, once in the chest and once in the chest and once in the lower lobe between the 10th and 11th rib. He’s lucky to be alive,” Dr. Rattray supplied. “We heard that the person who called 911 also came in the ambulance.”
Alan ran a shaky hand through his tousled sandy blond hair. “Where are they?”
“They disappeared before anyone could get their information.”
Just about that moment, three police officers approached them. Two of the officers were in suits and one in uniform. The one in uniform stepped away down the hall and left the two suits. Alan thought the police would have been there already. One of the lawmen spoke with the doctor first and then turned to him.
“You are the victim’s friend?”
“Yes, I’m Alan. What happened officer?”
The one who’d spoken with the doctor took out his card an handed it to Alan. “I’m Detective Lawson and this is Detective Nolan. Your friend was stabbed near his car.”
“This happened at the office?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t believe this, I just left the office a few hours ago, how could this happen?”
“Mr. Harrison is lucky to be alive,” the doctor interjected.
“Thanks Doc,” Alan replied.
“If you’ll excuse me,” the doctor replied and left Alan with the police.
The detective was writing in a notepad. He raised his head and addressed Alan again.
“What can you tell us about the woman?”
“What woman?”
“The one who called it in, she was in that parking garage,” Lawson informed him. “She could be a witness.”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “She might work in the building.”
“Is there anyone you think might want to hurt your friend?”
Alan narrowed his eyes and his brows pinched together. “You think this is not a random assault, don’t you?”
Lawson glanced at Nolan before coming back to him. “We have to explore all the possibilities.”
“I can’t think of anyone, officer,” he replied. “I need to check on my friend.”
“The officer over there will stay outside the room,” Lawson jutted his chin towards an officer in uniform standing in the hallway. “We will return when the patient is awake.”
When he went to Quinn’s room, the uniformed police officer stopped him and told him it was procedure. He apologized and said he had to follow orders to check everyone entering the room. Alan knew this was a semi-high profile case. Quinn Harrison was renowned throughout Cupertino as one of the most influential young business minds of the era.
He patted Alan down before letting him in. A saline solution tube was attached to Quinn’s arm while an oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth. Alan observed Quinn’s ashen skin tone and his heart ached. Horrorstruck, he stared at his friend and his eyes stung with tears. Dropping himself into the small chair beside the bed, he held Quinn’s hand.
Trying to talk was useless as words failed him. What could he say? He was dazed seeing his friend lying in a hospital bed. He stayed like that for some time until it occurred to him that their business associates needed answers.
He switched the phone on and checked his missed calls and messages. He didn’t have the strength to return each call individually, so he sent out a BCC message to them. After he’d messaged their associates, he sent a message blast to the press informing them that he’d have a press brief at the office later that day. He would need to meet with the new partner before the press meeting, therefore he set the press brief for midday. By that time, the meeting should be over.
Tiredness soon overcame Alan and he dozed off. At close to seven he awoke and realized the meeting was approximately an hour away. What was he to do - call and postpone? By now, they must know about Quinn. Moreover, there was no way he could go home to change and make it on time. He was about to make the call when the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Alan, this is Leonard McCarthy.” It was the man he was supposed to be meeting. “We heard what happened. I’m sorry to hear about your partner.”
“Thank you.”
“We can postpone until further notice if that is okay with you.”
Before he could reply, someone pushed the door and entered the room. Nicole was there holding out a suit and his briefcase. She was also carrying a small bag that he suspected held his toiletries and a change of underwear.
“That’s not necessary, Leonard. I’m sure Quinn would want us to do this,” he replied, relief washing over him. “I’ll see you at eight.”
They completed the conversation before Alan closed the space between himself and Nicole. She kissed his cheek then peered past him, setting her eyes on Quinn.
“Thanks for coming,” he said.
Taking his arm, she led him through the door and into the hallway. The expression on her face told him that she was apologizing for her remark about Quinn.
“I’m sorry about what I said last night,” she voiced what he’d suspected. “I thought you might need these.”
“Thanks.” He took the items from her.
“You forgive me, right?” she asked.
Alan smiled, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Quinn will be fine.”