Deadly Medicine (6 page)

“What about the labs?” the nurse asked, and Jess didn’t turn to meet her gaze, trying to appear nonchalant. “No, I don’t think they’ll be helpful. But set up a surgical tray. I want to do a lumbar puncture.”

Jess pulled up the X-ray of Em’s nose and winced. It wasn’t just broken. It was shattered, but she didn’t tell him that. “Em, your nose is broken.”

“No shit!” he said, with humor rather than malice this time.

Then she figured she’d better level with him. This fracture would probably need surgical repair if he ever hoped to breath normally again. She told him so.

“That bitch.” The anger had returned.

Jess turned to see her father approaching, and once again he placed his arm around her for support. His words were hard to hear, but she knew they were true. “Ward isn’t a bad person. She’s just out of her element here. She’s stressed, and tonight, she took it out on poor Em.”

Jess didn’t want to have this conversation in front of him, but he had other ideas, and when she heard them, she nearly fell over. “Em has agreed not to press charges, but only if Ward leaves town. He wants her gone. And, you have to go out for dinner with him. On Valentine’s Day.”

“Dad, that’s ridiculous!” Jess looked from her father to her patient, but neither was smiling.

“Which part?” Em asked.

“All of it!” Jess looked at them. It was so preposterous an idea that Jess would have been suspicious these two had set Ward up if Mr. Stiles hadn’t witnessed the attack.

“Listen to me, Jess. Even if you don’t go out with me, you should think about Ward. This isn’t her home, and she doesn’t belong here. Tonight, that really showed. If I press charges, she’ll probably lose her license and be in a whole heap of trouble. If I don’t, who’s she going to beat on next? Someone else who appreciates you like I do? Or someone totally innocent? Is that what you want?”

Jess couldn’t believe this was happening. How had her life gotten so fucked up? “Let me think about it, okay?”

Jess discharged both George and Em, and then she went back to Ward’s bedside. Her mental status was no better than it’d been earlier. She was barely responsive. Her breath smelled of alcohol. The more data she amassed, the clearer the diagnosis became. Ward was fucking passed-out drunk, in plain English. Still, Jess had to be sure. Could Ward have caught some strange infection that was taking over her brain? As an intern, she’d seen a case of viral encephalitis caused by the herpes virus. The patient had stabbed her husband, a Baptist minister, with a knitting needle and used more cuss words in a single sentence than she’d ever heard in her life.

With help from the nurse, Jess positioned Ward on her side and took her place on a stool behind her. After cleaning her skin, she carefully placed a long, thin spinal needle between the vertebrae in the low back and easily withdrew five tubes of clear, colorless fluid from the space around the spinal cord. Four were necessary, the fifth was a bonus. Ward didn’t even flinch during the procedure. Jess instructed the nurse on the orders, but she suspected this test would also be normal. While germs and blood rendered spinal fluid discolored and cloudy, clear fluid usually meant no worries.

An hour later, Ward’s status hadn’t changed, but four tubes of normal spinal fluid satisfied Jess that she had her diagnosis. Alcohol intoxication.

Jess looked up from the lab reports to find her father walking down the hallway. “Well, everyone’s all tucked in. George is going to forget about this, but I’m worried about Em. If he presses charges, what’s going to happen to Ward?”

Jess nodded. “I know,” she said, the words floating out on a huge sigh as she leaned against the wall beside Ward’s room.

“How is she? Is she coming around?” he asked.

Jess couldn’t speak as she fought tears, and the ER was eerily quiet, amplifying her silence. After a moment, she found her voice, faint but resolved. “I think she’ll be fine. Would you mind taking her home?”

“Wouldn’t mind at all.”

“Just put her to bed, Dad. I’ll get her shift covered for the morning. No matter what I decide to do, there’s no way Ward’s working tomorrow.”

Penetrating Trauma

Abby finished the last bite of the cheeseburger she’d ordered from the hospital cafeteria, then headed into the private bathroom connected to her office. When she worked late, she usually patronized the cafeteria. As CEO, it was good for her to show the hospital employees that the hospital food was palatable. It was practical, too. The cafeteria was just two floors beneath the administrative suites.

After brushing her teeth, she touched up her makeup and her hair and then smiled at herself. For the first time in a week, her reflection smiled back. Dick Rave was out of the ICU and expected to make a total, if slow, recovery. The hospital staff, especially the ER physicians, had come together to cover the holes in the schedule left by Dick’s illness, and Abby was proud to be their CEO. Now, a new physician was arriving to cover for Dick during the last weeks of January, and the agency Abby had hired was able to cover the ER for another six months, giving Dick plenty of time to recover from his illness. If he didn’t recover, or if his convalescence was prolonged, she’d deal with the scheduling void then. For now, though, she could relax.

It was good to see her eyes looking bright instead of worried, and the light highlights in her long hair also made her look lively. She applied color to her full lips and made sure no hamburger was stuck between the perfect rows of sparkling teeth. Satisfied that she passed inspection, she pulled on the purple jacket that matched her skirt and headed to the lobby. Her new doctor was expected any minute.

“Done for the night?” Jake, the custodian, asked as Abby stepped into the hallway from the administrative suite.

“Actually, no, but if you need to get in there, feel free. Just let me grab my bag and you can have the place to yourself.”

“Okay, thanks. I hear Dr. Rave is doing real good,” he said, pausing the buffing machine that pulled him down the hallway.

Abby nodded. It might have been common knowledge, but she still felt some obligation to protect Dick’s privacy.

“I’m sure glad about that. I’ve been praying for him. You have a good night, Miss Rosen,” he said, then went back to work. She watched his bent form as she awaited the elevator, wondering if the prayer had helped Dick. It didn’t hurt, anyway. Abby once again realized how happy she was to live and work in Factoryville, PA. Her hometown was famous as the birthplace of baseball legend Christy Mathewson, but Abby was less impressed by him than by the rest of the citizens of this humble town. They were all hall-of-famers.

Her elevator car stopped on the second floor, and she realized she wasn’t the only one working late. “Dick looks great,” she said to Dave Simpson, the surgeon.

“Yeah, I’m really happy with his progress.”

“Just another testament to good, small-town medicine,” she said, knowing how doctors loved a nice ego stroke. Abby was quite experienced in such matters.

He gave her an “aw, shucks” look. “I hear we have a replacement?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I’m meeting with him now. His credentials are impressive, so I think the ER will be in good hands. I booked the agency for six months.”

“Good move.”

“Thanks for the advice,” she said, and bid him good night before they exited the elevator.

The lobby was relatively deserted and Abby had no difficulty identifying her target. He was petite, if a man could be described that way. Slight. Certainly shorter than her, anyway, and thinner, too. His dark hair was cut very short but was stylishly arranged. Dark-colored, thick-rimmed designer frames sat atop his slight nose. He stood, with perfect posture, hands clasped behind his back, staring out the window into the darkness. His charcoal suit was tailored and draped elegantly all the way to the brilliantly polished wingtips on his feet.

He would have been noticeable in any venue, but in the lobby of a small community hospital in the mountains of Northeastern Pennsylvania, he really stood out.

Abby, dressed in her own designer suit and fresh from her bathroom touch-up, felt an unfamiliar twinge of self-consciousness and smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from her jacket as she approached him.

Not surprisingly, his hand was cool when she shook it. “I’m Abby Rosen,” she said. “The CEO. Welcome to Factoryville.”

*

“Edward Hawk. It’s good to be here.”

Abby Rosen would never know just how good it was. Immediately after his release from his prior position, Edward had contacted his personal assistant. “I need a job. Not in Florida or New Jersey.” Edward had worn out his welcome in New Jersey, and his prior peccadilloes in Florida could come back to haunt him if he ran into someone he knew there. In his role as a doctor, anyway. He had no concerns about visiting the Sunshine State, and he immediately took off for his parents’ house on the Gulf of Mexico, prepared to regroup there. They were away on an extended cruise, so he had the freedom and privacy to do as he pleased. He’d been too miserable to have much fun, worried about the mistake that had led to his termination in Jersey and restless about his future. Then, just as his razor stubble was beginning to resemble a beard, his phone rang. Some hick doctor in the middle of nowhere had gotten sick, and an immediate replacement was needed. The locum tenens agency was willing to hire him on the spot, if he could begin the next day. It was only a three-week assignment, but if it worked out, he wouldn’t have to worry about a job for a while. The company had already offered him a one-year contract. A job meant many things. Money. He really didn’t need it, thanks to his family money, but he liked it anyway. It gave him the ability to eat and dress and travel well, habits that would have been difficult to change. Impossible, actually. He was quite set in his ways.

The job also gave him company. He didn’t really like to be with people, had never lived with anyone since he’d left his parents’ home for college. Because of his discomfort with people in his personal space, and his unusual hobby, he never had guests at his house. He did get lonely, though. In the ER, he could be aloof enough to be left alone by the staff, but their mere presence pleased him. The background chatter was a familiar comfort, and the bells and whistles were soothing.

Mostly, though, a job meant exposure to patients, the sick and injured souls whose lives were placed in his hands. It was a dream, an opportunity like no other. Edward had been nervous before the phone call about the job in Factoryville. Like a heroin addict, all he’d been able to think about was his next fix. When would he be able to kill again? Hourly, his agitation grew so intense that he was beginning to plot the abduction of an undesirable tourist to fulfill his cravings. That was risky, though. Even undesirable tourists had friends and family members to report them missing, and if questions were asked, the answers might point back to Edward. Killing in the hospital was much safer. How could he get caught when no one even suspected a crime had been committed?

For a man with his agenda, Factoryville, Pennsylvania was a dream come true. Doctors came here because they couldn’t cut it in the big cities, he was sure. They’d be too stupid to know protocols, too out of touch with modern medicine to understand his clever methods. Nurses, too. Not only were they inbred at the local schools, but they were trained to respect the doctors. They’d never question him. He smiled, knowing he’d be able to do whatever he wanted, and no one would even notice. He followed Abby Rosen to the administrative suite for his hospital orientation. It was indeed good to be here.

Extubation

A soft knock roused Ward from her sleep, and she opened her eyes to a dark world interrupted only by the sliver of light permitted by the crack in the bedroom door. Sitting up, she wiped the sleep from her eyes and cleared her throat. “Come in,” she said softly.

The swath of light grew wider as the door opened and Rosa Perez popped her head into the room. “I wanted to say good-bye,” she said, then “I thought you’d be awake.”

Indeed, Ward hadn’t been sleeping well and had been up to enjoy coffee with her old medical-school friend every morning before Rosa left for work. Rosa practiced anesthesiology and was busy doing pre-op evals at the hospital while most people were still snug in their beds.

Sliding her legs to the floor, Ward crossed the wooden planks of the guest bedroom in a few strides and pulled the door fully open. “I must be feeling better if I’m sleeping past five,” she said dryly.

“Beach therapy is quite effective,” Rosa said as they walked toward the kitchen. The house was modern and huge, with an open plan suited for entertaining, and for the past two months, Rosa and her partner, Cindy, had had their hands full with Ward. She’d arrived a few days after Jess threw her out, needing a place to crash that didn’t remind her of Jess. Ward had spent a miserable two days at their house in Philly before calling on her friends in Rehoboth Beach, and they’d tended her wounds and guided her through the chaos her life had become. Ward was by no means over Jess, but she was functional once again, and it was time for her to go.

She had a job!

“Can I make you one last coffee before I set out?” Ward asked.

“Of course. I’ll miss you waiting on me. Can you possibly train Cindy to be a good wife like you before you leave us?”

Ward shook her head and frowned. Rosa and her partner Cindy were so similar it was scary. They both had long, dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin. They were both intelligent and tended to take things a bit too seriously. They shared a love of the arts and food and fashion, and were both physicians. Both were pathetically lacking in home-repair and cooking skills. Any remorse Ward might have had about crashing at their house was alleviated by the payment she’d made in home improvements and food preparation.

“I’m sorry, my friend. She’s a lost cause.” Then she smiled. “But I promise to come back in the summer, and I’ll cook for you.”

Sipping the hot coffee, Rosa looked up over the cup and met Ward’s eyes. They held for a moment, and then Ward closed the gap between them and wrapped herself around Rosa. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said.