Page 25 of The Burnt (The Declan Hunt Mysteries #3)

Simon was uneasy when Jasmine told him that Charlie was coming out to interview her while he was away, but Simon knew she could be trusted not to reveal any of the secrets of Monarch Holdings—secrets that had been weighing on his mind a great deal lately.

He’d decided that today’s business couldn’t wait any longer, just in case Harlen Feist rallied from his latest malady.

It took him almost two hours to get to his destination.

A long line of cars had slowed to see a small herd of elk at the side of the road near the park boundary.

Some people had even gotten out of their cars to get a selfie with the animals.

Simon had sat in the traffic jam wishing the elk would gore one of them just to teach them a lesson.

Their stupidity had added an extra twenty minutes to his journey.

Simon walked into the hospital and encountered a pretty young woman at the visitor information desk.

“Good day, sir. May I help you?”

“Yes… I’m here to see Harlen Feist. He’s having treatments of some sort and I was told that he was here. I assume he’s still, uh, ‘up-and-running’.”

“Up-and-running?” she asked.

“You know…heart still beating and all that.”

“Oh… Let me see.”

She plugged away at the computer for a moment. “Yes. Your friend is, as you say, up-and-running. Let me give you a map to show you where you can find him.”

She highlighted a route on a floor plan of the hospital and passed it to him.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said, then headed off to find Harlen.

When he finally managed to navigate the maze of hallways, he was surprised to discover that Harlen was in a semi-private room. He couldn’t afford private? As Simon walked through the door, he noted the other bed was currently vacant. Thank God.

Simon looked at the once-mighty Harlen Feist lying in bed, hooked up to countless machines. The disease had aged him. He wasn’t the fit seventy-year-old that Simon had remembered. His eyes were closed, but the heart monitor showed he still had a pulse.

Simon sat himself in the chair beside the bed. The journey into town had worn him out, and he shut his eyes preparing himself for the job ahead.

“How long have you been here?” a voice said, startling him.

“Not long. So… Nature’s given you a bit of a kick, has it, Harlen?”

“More than a kick. More like a full-body check into the boards.”

Simon nodded. He found these situations awkward. He was never sure what to say. “So, are they treating you well here?”

“Pretty good. At least the nurses are pretty to look at,” Feist said with a laugh that turned into a body-wracking cough.

Simon waited until Feist’s cough had calmed down, then asked, “Do you have everything in order?”

“Just about.”

“Good. It’s always good to tie up the loose ends while you can.”

“Is that why you’re here, Simon? Looking for a bit of a nod of approval from the old man?”

“Actually, I just hate to think of people alone in hospitals.”

Harlen scowled. “Yeah. Right. The old man is down and the buzzards are circling, hoping to pick at the carcass.”

“Now, Harlen. No need to be so negative. You need a healthy state of mind if you’re ever going to beat this.”

“I’m not going to beat this,” Harlen said, “and we both know it.” He broke out into another coughing fit, then he continued. “So I suspect you think you’re taking over Monarch Holdings?”

Simon nodded. “I’ve earned it. I just wanted to hear you say it before you die.”

Harlen coughed again. “You were my first choice, but recently I’ve had some disturbing information that suggests that you may have had something to do with my son Roger’s death.

So, needless to say, I’ve changed my mind.

I don’t think I can trust you anymore, Simon.

In fact, my lawyer is on his way over right now with the paperwork to name my new successor. You can sign as a witness.”

Simon took off his glasses and smiled. “Well, it looks like I got here just in time, then.”

* * * *

Simon walked down the hall, heading toward the hospital exit. He walked with a bounce in his step, feeling like life had just gotten better.

Several nurses ran past him. One yelled out to the other, “Crash cart’s on its way.”

He knew they’d be heading to Harlen Feist’s room. He also knew that there wasn’t a crash cart built that could revive him now.