Famed investment banker, Josh Tyler was hospitalized last night.
I heard the news as I walked back into the kitchen to grab an apple.
His doctors aren't releasing too many details except to say that Mr. Tyler's condition is stable and he's resting. Police officers were called to the hospital. We will update you as more information becomes available.
That's not good. A commercial for Lucky Charms came on. The phone in my office cut through the TV noise. I caught it on the last ring.
"Ms. Jackson, my name is Kiley Winslow. I'm Josh Tyler's assistant. Do you know who he is?"
"How may I help you?"
"I'm sure you heard about the incident. Mr. Tyler would like you to come to the hospital."
She gave me the hospital location, and his room number.
"You should have no problem getting in to see him." Her voice wavered a bit.
I thanked her and hung up the phone. Why would Josh Tyler contact me? Godfrey, my Rottie, stood in the doorway of my office staring at me. When I didn't acknowledge him, he barked. I pushed past him. He followed me to the kitchen and hovered as I filled his dish. His food disappeared in three bites, and I let him outside. Ten minutes later, I was out the door, and on my way to Methodist Hospital on 83rd & Dodge Streets.
Josh Tyler's room was on the seventh floor. The last time I visited Methodist hospital was when my sister died seventeen years ago. I wasn't looking forward to reminiscing, and I hate hospitals. I can't shake the feeling that I'm going to walk in fine, and then leave with some sort of disease.
Hospitals always smell bad. They're okay until you get up onto the patient floors. Then pungent odors emerge from every room. I located Josh Tyler's room. A police officer was posted outside. I showed my ID, and he opened the door.
Tyler lay propped up in his bed tethered to an IV. The window shades had been opened, flooding the room with sunlight. The room was hot.
"Financial planner, huh?" He struggled to smile. "I asked my assistant to find the best private detective in Omaha. It turns out they're pretty busy, but you came recommended."
"I'm guessing you showing up at the club yesterday wasn't a coincidence."
"No, but I am a member." I set my bag on a chair and removed my jacket.
"My wife hired you?"
"Why am I here?"
"I want you to find out who's trying to kill me."
"You already know I can't do that."
"The police are obviously questioning my wife. So, she won't be needing your services." He adjusted his body and winced. "And, I'll pay you better."
"Let's say that I decide to take your case. What can you tell me?"
"I have Hepatitis A. Do you know how that happens?"
I shook my head. I was pretty sure I didn't want to know.
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