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Chapter 14
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Both agents found Artie in a regular hospital emergency room cubicle. When he had awakened from the drug and remained human, the officers decided he was not an immediate threat. They'd mercifully given him a warm blanket and transported him for further examination. One uniformed officer stood guard outside the cubicle in the event anything unexpected happened but his relaxed stance when Myka and Pete walked up to him indicated he was no longer worried. They flashed their IDs at him and he sent them on in with a sideways swing of his head.
"You have no idea how glad I am to see you guys," Artie said.
Pete noticed his boss still sounded a bit dazed but those dark eyes were focused directly on him and Myka when he spoke. Lattimer gave Nielsen a pat on the shoulder and grinned. "These fools giving you trouble?"
"Not as much as I hear I gave you."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that. Would you count trying to maul and eat us as trouble, Myka?"
Myka stifled a chuckle and adopted a no nonsense posture. "Actually, you tried to eat Pete. I was too smart to get in the way."
"Hey," Pete said, clearly affronted although it was hard to tell if the emotional display was real or fake.
It wouldn't have mattered either way. Artie's face was a study in embarrassment and all the facets connected to that particular emotion. "You don't know how sorry I am about all of this. I barely remember anything beyond excruciating pain as the initial changes took place. After that I don't recall a blessed thing until I woke up in the cage and even that's real fuzzy."
"Trust me, you weren't yourself—" Myka began.
"That's for sure," Pete finished, letting a chuckle escape his lips. "And we'll tell you all the gory details and lurid exploits the minute they let you out of here."
"Lurid…exploits?"
"Well, there was this panther, see, and you tried doing the jungle boogie with her, but she was having no part of it, so you…"
Artie's hands flew up suddenly causing the hospital gown to slip off his shoulders. In less than a heartbeat he'd repositioned it. "Okay, okay, save it for later. Better yet, forget it ever happened."
"Pete," Myka chided, her voice lilting as she said his name. "Let's not upset the boss, okay? Cuz if he morphs and mistakes you for the panther you'll definitely regret it."
Pete grimaced at the mental imagery. "Reality check," he told her, gesturing at something she was holding.
Lifting a large plastic shopping bag, Myka handed it to Artie. "Police investigators found your coat, shirts, and badge case in an alley behind the store. A wallet was still in the pocket of the coat. Your slacks were found around the corner. That's probably how far you got before the metamorphosis was complete. I have no idea about your cell phone. The police recovered your Tesla yesterday and returned it to me. Your black bag is still safe in your car."
"What about my gun?" he asked hopefully.
"Gone. No sign of it."
The next word came out as a soft, barely audible whisper. "Damn." He looked them both in the eyes before adding, "If he has it, then he has a potential murder weapon with my prints all over it."
The two agents didn't need to ask for clarification of who 'he' was. "Given his track record and M.O. that's a bit too obvious."
"Not if he takes out someone very prominent," muttered Artie, already considering whose death would bring about the biggest investigations and the most sensationalism.
Before he could finish pondering all the ideal candidates for a frame-up/murder scenario, two officers walked in. One was a detective they'd met earlier. Neither of the men bothered to introduce themselves. It also told Pete and Myka they'd been there at least once prior to the arrival of the secret service agents.
"Leaving us so soon?" he asked Artie without preamble after peeking into the bag with the clothing.
"I think I've seen quite enough of your beautiful city, thanks." His tone was mild yet firm. Clearly, he didn't want to anger the cop but at the same time, he wasn't hiding that the experience had been traumatic.
"Consider yourself lucky. If I hadn't seen it all for myself, I would never have believed any stories about tattoos that turn people into beasts. Instead, you'd be sitting in a cell awaiting arraignment for the murder of that business owner and spending all your free time explaining to me why you think tattoos can do that to people. And speaking of the dead guy, he was shot, not killed by an animal." The man's face was fierce and taut with frustration. "Ironically, there was no sign of a gun anywhere. I know you had one. Others have said you had one. So where did it wander off to, hmmm?"
"Perhaps the individual who attacked me also murdered the shop owner," Artie suggested, sidestepping the question.
"Yeah, that's another thing. About 'that guy'. Any idea who he is?"
Artie shook his head ever so slightly.
"And I don't suppose you can describe him for me, I mean, what with your training and skills in observation." He paused, staring down Artie who somehow found the strength to look him dead in the eyes.
"No, I was out of it. He hit me, remember? Bump on the head to prove it." He pointed one solid finger at the base of his skull. "It's all in the medical records which you can see with my blessing if they'll let you."
The man huffed loudly through flared nostrils. When he finally spoke, his voice was heavily laced with sarcasm. "If it were up to me Agent Nielsen, I wouldn't let you out of my sight until I found out what really happened and why. However, you appear to have friends in high places. My boss informs me someone named Frederic, with a ton of pull higher up, vouched for you so you're all free to move on."
With that said, he turned and stalked off with his partner silently following on his heels.
"That's one thing to be thankful for," Artie stated sternly, waving at their disappearing backs, a smile plastered on his face. Keeping himself covered up with one hand, he used his other one to lift the bag off the gurney.
Myka tilted her head and looked at him curiously. "Counting your blessings?" she inquired with a slight smile.
"Indeed."
"Care to share?" Pete asked, equally curious.
In answer Artie pulled down the left shoulder of his hospital gown, but only far enough to reveal a large red abraded patch on his skin. Myka leaned in for a closer inspection.
"The inks," she gasped in surprise, "they've disappeared!"
In truth, not even the outline of the creature could be seen anymore. The repeated stabbing of needles had left the skin angry and abused but with the inks no longer there for definition it had no shape or form. "The doctor has informed me that this will eventually heal over as if nothing was ever there." He ran the fingers of his right hand gingerly over the spot. "I figure this happened to everyone with MacPherson's tattoos. After you neutralized the inks, all the tattoos probably faded like mine."
"The weirdness never ends," Pete commented dryly.
"No, it never does," agreed Artie as he covered the shoulder and made shooing motions toward the door.