Code 15 (35 page)

“C’mon,” he said to Morgan, picking up her purse from the end of the stretcher. “I’ll take you home.”

“I could use some dessert. Can we stop somewhere?”

His brow furrowed. “Jenny’s only been gone for ten seconds. Did you forget what she said already?”

“I was just thinking that it would—”

“Don’t think too much. It weakens the team.”

“Fine,” she said in a childlike pout.

Ben gave her a long hug and then kissed the top of her head. She hugged him back and they stayed that way for almost a minute. When she turned her head, he could feel her wet eyes against his neck.

DAY FORTY

 

 

It had been two days since Morgan’s unexpected trip to the emergency room.

She had experienced no further cramps or bleeding and was feeling the best she had since learning she was pregnant. It was a few minutes past twelve when she walked into the physician’s dining room. She quickly scanned the room and spotted Mira Ramon making her way through the self-serve line. She walked over and joined her.

“I called your office. Your secretary said you might be here.”

“How are you feeling?” Mira asked.

“Fine. I’d like to talk to you about something. Do you mind if I join you?”

“Grab a tray.”

“I had a late breakfast. I’m going to skip lunch today.”

“Both times I was pregnant, I couldn’t even look at food for the first three months. Then one morning I woke up and didn’t stop eating until I delivered.” They shared a laugh. Mira pointed to a small table, led the way over, and then sat down.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind answering a few more questions about that pacemaker case we talked about.”

“Sure,” Mira said, setting her a paper napkin on her lap and then taking her first spoonful of Italian wedding soup.

“How common is it for a young woman to develop complete heart block and require a pacemaker?”

“How young?”

“In her twenties.”

“In two words: incredibly uncommon.” Reaching for a packet of crackers, Mira paused for a few seconds. “Are you sure we’re talking about the case, because I don’t remember you mentioning she was so young.”

“I may have overlooked it,” Morgan confessed.

“So you’re trying to find out how this young and otherwise healthy woman could have developed full-blown heart block that required insertion of a permanent pacemaker.”

“I’ve checked every medication in the
PDR
. I’ve also looked at every infection we’ve ever seen in the hospital.” Morgan lowered her voice. “I’ve even researched every poison known to mankind.”

“Poison?”

“I don’t know what else to think. I can’t find a disease, drug, virus, bacteria, or toxin that would have destroyed her ability to pace her own heart. Is there anything you’re aware of that could have caused the problem?”

Although she was silent, Morgan could sense Mira’s level of discomfort rising.

“Look, Morgan. I’ve known you a long time, and I have some idea of what you’ve been going through lately.”

“I’m not sure I understand what—”

“I just don’t want to contribute to . . .”

“My paranoia and bizarre behavior?”

“I didn’t say that. I just don’t want to make things worse for you.”

Morgan wasn’t offended by Mira’s concern. And, perhaps, under different circumstances, she might have been persuaded to let the matter drop. But she knew Gideon had somehow figured out how to murder Alison Greene and she desperately needed Mira’s help.

“I’m well aware of what people are saying, but that doesn’t make them right. I’m three months pregnant and in a matter of a few short weeks my whole life’s been turned upside down. I’m running out of time, Mira. I need your help.”

Mira put her spoon down and sat back in her chair. “There may be one thing, but it’s a long shot.”

Morgan pushed her chair closer. “At this point, I’m willing to listen to anything.”

“About three years ago, the British were doing trial studies on a new antidepressant. The name of the drug was Axaptamine. The drug turned out to be an excellent antidepressant, but unfortunately it had one major side effect. In therapeutic doses it caused permanent heart block at a fairly predictable rate. After about ten people wound up with permanent pacemakers, they pulled the drug and stopped the studies.”

Morgan looked perplexed. “But I did a complete literature search. Nothing came up.”

“I’m not surprised. The drug never even came close to making the U.S. market. The only reason I know anything about it is because I attended a meeting in London where it was discussed.”

“If somebody wanted to, could they get a hold of the drug?” Morgan asked.

“I guess if you passed yourself off as an independent lab wanting to do further studies, you could get it. Since they never finished the trials, there must be plenty of it around still.”

“Do you remember who the manufacturer was?’

“No, but I’m sure any search engine would give it to you.”

“How long after taking the drug did the symptoms of heart block begin?” Morgan asked.

“As I recall, it was pretty fast—within days, but not too many people know about Axaptamine. It’s hard to believe somebody poisoned your patient.”

“This guy’s not exactly your average Joe,” Morgan said, reaching across the table and taking Mira’s hand in hers. She gave it a quick squeeze and added, “I’ll let you finish your lunch in peace. Thanks for the help.”

Walking out of the dining room, Morgan had no doubts that Mason Kaine was more than clever enough to have learned about Axaptamine. He also had the wherewithal to get his hands on the drug and figure out a way to poison Alison Greene with it.

DAY FORTY-ONE

 

 

Having finally reassured an anxious mother that her three-year-old wheezing son would eventually outgrow his asthma, Morgan returned to the nursing station to finish charting her discharge instructions.

“You have a call on six, Dr. Connolly,” the unit secretary told her, waving the phone in the air.

“Who is it?” Morgan asked, only half paying attention.

“She said her name was Adele Kaine and that it was personal.”

Morgan looked up from writing the boy’s antibiotic prescription.

“Adele Kaine? Are you sure?”

“Positive. Do you want to take it or should I tell her you’re unavailable?”

“Tell her I’ll be right with her,” Morgan said, finishing up the prescription and putting it on the chart for the nurse to give to the boy’s mother.

Wanting a little more privacy, Morgan made her way to the back of the nursing station to a small area shaped like an alcove. The space was made up of three partitioned cubicles, which were used by the physicians to dictate their reports.

With all of the cubicles unoccupied, Morgan selected the farthest one from the door, picked up the phone, and tapped line six.

“Hello.”

“Morgan. It’s Adele Kaine. I apologize for calling you at the hospital.” Her voice was nasal.

“No need to apologize. It’s nice to hear from you. You sound like you have a cold.”

“I’ve been battling the flu all week but I’m finally starting to feel a little better. The reason I’m calling is to find out if you’re still having that problem we talked about.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“In that case, I think we should talk. I’ve recently come across some information that I’m certain you’d be interested in seeing.”

“What kind of information?” Morgan asked, taken back by the sudden urgency in Adele’s voice.

“I’d prefer not discuss the specifics on the phone. I’m going out of town in the morning for four days. We can get together when I get back or, if you prefer, I can meet you tonight. I’ll be working late at my office.”

Morgan looked at her watch. It was five o’clock. The idea of driving to Coral Springs after a busy twelve-hour shift didn’t thrill her, but with time running out, waiting almost a week to find out what Adele had on her mind seemed far less attractive.

“My shift’s over at seven. Why don’t we make it tonight?”

“Fine. Do you remember how to get to my office?”

“I think so.”

“I’ll meet you there at eight. I may be a few minutes late. I’ll give you a call if I am.”

“I’ll be there . . . and thank you.”

Adele said, “I’m doing this for both of us. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

For a minute or so after she hung up, Morgan sat in the cubicle staring blankly ahead. She then looked at her watch and realized that if she had any hope of being on time, she had to get back to the ER. She stood up. Heavy in thought, she wondered if Adele’s information would be the answer to her prayer and incriminate Mason Kaine.

It was seven p.m. when Morgan finished seeing her last patient.

She signed out to the physician relieving her, and by seven thirty she was heading north on the Florida Turnpike. The traffic was surprisingly forgiving, allaying any lingering fears she had about being late for her meeting with Adele.

By the time she pulled into the parking lot, the sun had completely faded. The lot was poorly lighted and the only car around was parked directly in front of the travel agency. Assuming it was Adele’s, Morgan pulled in next to the late model sedan.

The four stores, including the front part of the travel agency, were dark. She checked the time. It was five to eight. Morgan turned off the engine, grabbed her purse, and stepped out of the Thunderbird. The only sound was that of a dog barking in the distance. Standing between the two cars, Morgan took a precautionary look around.

Even if she had never heard of Mason Kaine, her surroundings would have made her apprehensive. She was surprised that Adele would work late at such a secluded location. Instinctively, Morgan clutched her purse between her arm and chest, closed the car door, and started toward the store. The incessant barking of the dog abruptly stopped.

As she was making her way between the two cars, she heard the sound of footsteps moving quickly across the pavement. She picked up her pace but before she could emerge from between the cars, the footsteps got louder. Her instinct was to lunge for the sidewalk, but before she could, she was seized from behind.

In an instant, the man’s powerful arm encircled her waist and lifted her off of the ground. Before she could react, his other hand slammed against her mouth, smothering any attempts she made to cry out. Pulled tightly against him, she could feel his heavy breathing. In one swift jerk, he spun her away from him and then shoved her face hard against her car. The image of the hulking man who had confronted her outside of her dry cleaners about Kevin’s whereabouts jumped into her mind.

He pushed his face against the back of her head. “All I want is your purse, lady,” he said in a distorted whisper. “Don’t try to turn around. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.”

Morgan dropped her bag.

“I’m going to pick up your purse now. If you move, I’ll strangle you.”

Almost thankful she was only being mugged, Morgan nodded. As soon as she did, she felt the man’s grip on her abdomen ease off. She expected him to lean over, pick up her purse, and take off running, but instead, she felt a sudden pin-prick along the side of her neck. There was no question in her mind she had been injected with something.

In a frenzied state of mind, she struggled to extricate herself, but the man’s grasp on her only intensified. Pinning her against her car, Morgan could again feel the heavy weight of his chest heaving against her back. She knew he had no intention of letting her go, and whatever precious seconds she had to act were quickly evaporating. Every desperate attempt she made to squirm free met with even more resistance.

Gasping for air under his powerful hand, she looked across the parking lot, hoping somebody would come to her assistance. Morgan’s brain now whirled under the effect of the drug. It was if she were clinging to a ghostlike carnival ride that had spun off its tracks and was now hurtling her toward a brilliantly lit tunnel. On the brink of unconsciousness, every particle of strength and resolve she had vanished.

Morgan awakened to the deafening whine of a powerful engine. She felt herself moving forward in a serpentine motion.

She had spent enough time on airboats to be familiar with the airplane engine’s characteristic sound. Lying on her side on the bottom of the boat, her body quaked from the cold night air hammering against her. Although she had no idea where she was, she did have a clear recollection of everything that had happened to her.

After a few seconds, she forced open her eyes. Gazing toward the back of the boat, all she could make out among the dark night shadows was the airboat’s huge fan and the vague silhouette of a man sitting high in the pilot’s chair with his hand on the control lever. With a sudden surge of adrenaline pouring into her veins, Morgan struggled to come to her feet, but the duct tape binding her ankles and wrists wouldn’t permit it. Squirming and twisting on the boat’s cold bottom, she finally rolled onto her back. Breathless, she stared up at the cloud-covered sky. The boat suddenly decelerated. She heard a man’s laughter.

“I know who you are,” she screamed.

The laughter stopped. “Gideon. The name’s Gideon,” he said in an unnatural throaty voice.

From the rhythmic pelting of the thick reeds of saw grass against the side of the boat, Morgan sensed they were winding slowly through the swamp.

“Take me back or—”

“Or what, Dr. Connolly? You’ll scream?” He laughed again. “Be my guest. We’re twenty miles from civilization. The only things out here that will hear you, you’d rather not attract.”