Though Medridge greets Victoria with a returned kiss to the cheek, he only grunts a reply to her question. Pacing around behind his desk, he taps his cane on the floor as he thinks. "No... no luck yet. But I believe it was Harkins the shooter was after. He would have been a nice addition to our... establishment."
Shaking his head, a look of disgust crosses his face. "It's bothering me too, and I think Dirk is right. I think we have a traitor in our midst."
He studies Victoria for a moment, his eyes seeming to pierce into her soul. "Be wary, Granddaughter. Without knowing, even these halls are dangerous. Those closest to us may not be trusted."
Garret lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. His side throbbed, his head hurt and he felt hot all over. But his mind was still at work. What had happened last night? Why? Had it been a ploy? Distraction? Attempted murder? But why here? Why now? To whose benefit? These were all things he'd like to know so he could better do his job and remain on top of things.
"Aw, cut it out," he growls at a nurse as she mops his forehead.
"You're burning up," she chides. "We need to cool you down."
"Then how about a cold bath instead of you flitting about every moment?"
"I'm following orders."
"Aren't we all..." Garret grimaces as she checks his bandages. All he wanted right now was to get out of here.
Justin smirks and looks down at his wet self. "Yeah... you could be right. But this is my favorite rod and reel." Which was now also dripping wet.
Trudging up out of the water, he flops down in the grass on his back and squints up at the sun. "Gonna have to wait for the fish to calm down now," he muses. "A nap sounds alright though. Not that I like relaxing in wet clothes."
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