by R L Dunn
"No."
Shaun Murray knocked on the door. "Just checking on Austin. I posted an officer outside if you need something. Was that the lady doctor dancing?" His brows fretted.
"Yes, the man came in close to death. She made a promise to dance with him when he recovered, gave him a reason to hang on. She does that often," Tommy said.
"Yesterday morning, a farmer found a child in a ditch—the case Austin was investigating. Dr. Reed operated on the poor girl. I owe her an apology. After bringing the child in, I said something offensive to her. My own crap got in the way."
"Was the child injured in a car accident?" He and Ford never had the conversation.
"A car would be more humane. No, I spoke with the surgeon Dr. Reed covered for. Not only were the injuries sexual in nature, but one of her legs was crushed. She had to remove the limb. I got appointed to the department ten years ago and was in the service before. Never seen anything like this." His shoulders shook. "Then, you, Partner, getting shot, leaving me to Lieutenant Lamb,” he spoke in a teasing voice.
Martin typed a quick message to Tate: Need background on Shaun Murray.
In the works, Tate replied.
Wednesday, July 10th 11:00
The Silverton Farmhouse Hotel conference room reserved for Chase Security was set up as an operations hub. Martin walked in to find Ford, Julian, Troy and Tighe sitting at one end of the boardroom table with papers spread out in front of them. Zach Wentworth and Noah were hunched over computers at the other end. A large coffee urn and platters laden with rolls and danishes, fresh fruit and juices occupied one wall.
"How are you doing?" Troy rose to hug his friend.
"I'm fine. Thank you all for being here. What do we have?" Martin poured a glass of juice and sat at the table.
"First, how's Austin?" Ford asked.
"No change. My family and Janey are with him. I'll stay the night again.” His steel shell was breaking down. “I feel so helpless.”
"Bro, you're never helpless, even if the only thing to do is pray. Remember, you taught me that," Troy reminded him.
Martin nodded. “What do we have?”
"Technical analysis ran backgrounds on the people involved in Austin's treatment. I did not read them yet." Ford passed him the folder.
Martin yanked the folder from his hand. "Sorry." He wanted to view Elizabeth's file before anyone else.
Ford waved off the apology. "No worries. Boss, we wish we could tell you this was straightforward, but we’re coming up with a lot of questions."
"Austin was investigating a case where a four-year-old girl, a Jane Doe, was injured," Tighe said.
"Shaun Murray confirmed the child was...beaten and a victim of assault," Martin stammered. "She’s in grave shape, in a coma in the pediatric ICU."
"We took samples of the bloodstained dirt around the areas where Austin and the child were found. Dr. Reed also saved Austin's clothing and vest. He was hit by 5.56 mm caliber, M193 cartridges. The brass was policed," Troy said.
"We were blown off by the Silverton detectives. They gave us what little—emphasis on little—they had," Tighe spoke. "We maintained continuous scene surveillance. PD hasn't been back."
"Austin had a swatch of orange fabric in an evidence bag in his pocket. Tech was able to identify the swatch as part of the orange uniforms worn by prisoners at the Silverton Jail. Our lab is searching for blood evidence. Austin made a second radio call asking for the names of three reported escapees. He keyed up for dispatch a third time but never completed the transmission. The area where the girl was found, and Austin was shot is traveled only by residents of the close surrounding area. A canvas and repeat search is in progress," Zach said.
Martin ran a hand through his hair. "Did Silverton give you any of this?"
"No," Tighe said.
"Damn. I need to call Mike. I pulled Papa team out of a Homeland investigation. They lost five investigators and didn't make it far. Violent pornography involving men, women, and children is being disseminated from a data center in Silverton. The materials are being laundered via credit card identities stolen from an internet catalog call center staffed by inmates. Tuesday, Austin left me a voicemail. My gut says this is all tied together somehow. Elizabeth said the shots were all in the vest's voids—military ordnance. Miraculous he's alive. Are the forensics back?"
"Not yet," Julian said.
"What about the other cops at the scene? Did they sanitize the place?" Martin worked through the situation.
Tighe huffed, "All I can say, for a sergeant shot, there’s no level of urgency. I can also tell you our arrival did not make them happy. We need some time."
Martin met Julian's concerned gaze. "Martin, mon frère, we will find the answers. There are eyes on your family and on Austin. Pete's at the hospital right now lining up our providers and consulting with Dr. Reed. Your family needs you, but first, you need to sleep."
The bed calling to him, he sent a priority text to Mike, Ian, and Kieran concerning the abused child and the prison uniform. Mike “Raptor” Johnson was the new second-in-command of Chase Security International. He planned to call Todd and Brynn, who were supervising the original Homeland case, when he woke up.
The morning flew by. The one hour she planned to spend on the floor turned to three. Elizabeth checked the results of Austin's latest x-rays and blood tests and added a couple more orders before returning to his room again. Dennis and Fay Bailey were sitting beside their son. She covered her face with her hair.
"Good morning," she greeted them. "Austin's condition is unchanged, but in his case, that’s not a bad thing. At this point, his body needs time to come back."
"Elizabeth?" Dennis called. "The whole family appreciates everything you’re doing for Austin."
"Thank you.” She bit back the tears threatening to fall. "I put a note in Austin's chart. Family can stay around the clock, but no more than two at a time."
Wednesday, July 10th, 1500 hours
Steven Keys was standing with the Baileys inside Austin's room when the door to the ICU slammed open with a bang. Randy Knox came flying down the corridor snorting like a bull in pursuit of a red cape. "Where is she? Wonder Doc, the bitch."
Steven excused himself and pulled Randy into the nurse's lounge. "What are you doing? Get a grip on yourself."
"A grip? Where the hell is the cunt? First, she poaches from me, then grandstands with the cop. She couldn't call me?" Randy turned redder by the minute, his voice carrying well beyond the closed doors.
"Randy, she's not here. Calm down. You’re behaving like an ass. I suggest you pay attention to your messages. There were numerous attempts made."
Randall Knox brushed him off and exited the unit with another loud door slam.
Elizabeth sat in her office trying to do paperwork. Caffeine hadn’t kept up with her fatigue or growing headache. Insurance companies fought hard against paying.
"Dr. Reed, this is a friend from the Silverton Jail," a woman said when Elizabeth picked up her extension.
"What can I do for you?" Her skin prickled.
"You need to mind your business."
"Trudy, is this you? What's going on?"
"Jails are dangerous places. Bad people do bad things," the woman said cryptically.
"Is this you, Trudy? Are the guards hurting prisoners?"
"Nosy people get hurt." After the woman hung up the phone, Elizabeth scribbled a note on her pad.
She googled the Silverton Department of Corrections’ website. On the directory, she scrolled, finding a familiar name. "This is Dr. Elizabeth Reed. May I speak with Thibodaux Spooner, please?"
An officious voice came over the line, "Can I ask what this is about?"
"Please, he'll take my call." Elizabeth waited.
"Hello, little girl. How are you? I just asked your daddy about you last week. I'm so sorry about your momma."
"Thank you, Tibby. How are you and the girls?" Elizabeth spoke to her father's former aide in a warm tone.
>
"Danielle is home from college. Can you believe she finished her sophomore year? Trip Mathias and she are engaged. You remember him. He's on Silverton PD now. Stay posted for an invitation. He wants her to finish school first." Twenty years older than Danielle, Trip was formerly employed by her father. "Mary and Amy are in high school. Life is terrific. Tell me, what can I do for you?" the assistant director of the Silverton Department of Corrections asked.
"I'm sorry, Tibby. Time got away from me."
"I understand. Daddy's proud of you. Your momma was too."
"I’m not sure how best to say this. I found a pattern with some inmates sent here from the Silverton Jail. They appear to be abusive injuries."
"Hmmm. What makes you say that? Did they tell you they’re being abused?"
"No, never. They show bruises in multiple stages of healing. A couple of the women showed signs of sexual abuse. All had round bruises resembling the end of a flashlight."
"Little girl, jails are dangerous places. There are overcrowding, violence, and mental illness. Contrary to what you would think, most sexual activity in prisons is consensual. I'm not saying abuse can't happen. Our employees are well trained and responsible. For you, I’ll reach out to the director and review your thoughts. Honey, I appreciate you telling me."
“I'm sorry to call you over only this. Please say hi to the girls. Perhaps we can meet for dinner one night."
“That’s a superb idea. Give me your number, and I’ll ask the director to contact you with any information."
"Thanks, Tibby." Elizabeth read off her office number.
Thibodaux Spooner walked into the office next to his where Clay Jenner was talking on the phone. "Gorgeous, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later.” He frowned at his assistant. "This better be important, barreling in here."
"Oh, this is very important. Guess who called?"
"What, are we playing twenty questions? Who?"
"A sweet girl found signs of prisoner abuse. Elizabeth Reed. I destroyed two of her letters. She's a dog with a bone. Now she called."
"Hmm, I'll be happy to force my bone down her throat. I'll handle Elizabeth Reed."
Elizabeth sat daydreaming, looking at the clouds floating in the sky through her office window when her door flew open.
"You didn't think to call for that patient? I had to find out from Hillinger."
Elizabeth's secretary mouthed "Sorry" at Randall Knox's stampede through her door.
"Randy, come in, and we can talk," Elizabeth put her hands flat on her desk. "We tried to call you even though you said you were unreachable."
"You let my patient die," Randy railed at her. Strong hands covered hers, pinning her. "You saved the dead cop but couldn't save the kid with a heartbeat?"
Elizabeth yanked her hands away, getting scratched in the process. "I let her die? For God's sake, I opened her chest and abdomen to try to save her. Her heart tore in my hand. You took the appendix, didn't clean the belly with diligence, and never ran the remaining bowel or performed a pregnancy test. You killed her," Elizabeth yelled back. "What I don't understand is why? Of all the people to take chances with, Viola Dufour?"
He loomed over the desk. "Pregnancy test? She and her father denied any activity!"
"Are you gullible? Since when do you listen to a menstrual age girl's father? Standard of care, you learned that, right? And a teenager? They lie."
"She said she didn't have her period in two years!"
"Did you go to medical school? How do you explain the six-week-old fetus in her right tube? The Holy Spirit didn't visit Viola Dufour. The OB resident found her tender and signs of old tearing. Ding, ding, ding: sexual activity. The ER ordered the pregnancy test, and you canceled it because you didn't want to wait the extra hour to take her to the OR. Does that sound right to you? What were you missing? A hot lay? The autopsy will show every one of your missteps."
"You bitch. I'll tell you what sounds right: you are the one going down for this, Beth. I will make sure. You butchered her in the room."
"You shouldn't be worrying about my career. Your career is in jeopardy, Randy. Why can't you do what you’re capable of? Viola would be alive. Excuse me, I have work to do. Unless you want to bother me about something else?"
"Damn you to hell, you’ll be sorry. Someone should do more than slap you." He stormed out the door, bumping into Pete Walter. "Sorry, man." He continued down the hall.
Pete Walter knocked on the open door. "Dr. Reed?"
"Beth, please. Come in, Mr. Walter." She rose and extended her hand.
The scratches and her shakes were evident. "Call me Pete. Is everything alright?"
"Yes, only a professional disagreement."
"Those words sounded more than a professional disagreement." He leaned closer. "Did Knox do that?" On her pad, prisoner brutality was written and circled.
"The scratches. The cheek is from a patient's mom distraught about her daughter's death. You are kind to ask, though. Thank you."
"Thank you for taking the time to compare notes on Austin with me." He sat across from her. "Martin Bailey and I work for the Chase Group. The company's policy is when one of our own requires critical assistance, we bring in a private duty to assist. We are in the process of having staffing credentialed to work here."
"Pete, I want Austin to survive, believe me. I'll be happy to work with your credentialed people. I'm sure this will make Marty more comfortable. He spent the night with Austin." Mention of his name made her want to cry.
"He can be stubborn. I hope his presence didn't cause an issue." Pete turned one palm faceup.
Elizabeth chuckled. "No, if I had a sibling, I wouldn't leave either. I'll do anything for Austin." She opened her desk and grabbed her business card, writing her numbers on the back. "Call me direct and tell me everything you need."
"Thank you. Our people will be in place by tonight." Pete concluded their conference after a lengthy discussion of Austin's current status and long-term plan.
In the corner of the cafeteria, Pete called Tate Webster. "I'm submitting my personnel requests. Can you arrange the flights? Also, make sure a Dr. Knox doesn't go anywhere near Austin Bailey."
"Something happen?"
"I'll explain when I'm in a secure place. Run a background on Dr. Steven Keys and Dr. Elizabeth Reed as well as anyone coming into contact with Austin."
"Done, I'll forward the files to you. Austin was investigating an injured child, a Jane Doe. I don't think this is random. Shaun Murray told Martin she's in the PICU. Can you go fishing?"
"No problem."
"Keep your ears open. One of their own almost dies, and our offers of help are getting pushback. We’re taking the investigation back to baseline."
Elizabeth returned to the ICU to hand over her cases to Virginia Harper, who said, "Everybody is buzzing." She scooted her chair nearer. "Are you alright? Randy is suspended. Hal Dufour threatened a major lawsuit when he learned Randy missed the ectopic."
"I'm fine, Ginny. Don't stare at me. I didn't tell the Dufours anything.” She clenched her jaw.
"Well, watch yourself. Pietra told me Randy's pissed at you."
"Ya think? He came to my office screaming, blaming me for killing her during the resuscitation. I think the SOB will get his." Elizabeth used the table to stand. "Steve is on tomorrow."
"Get some rest. I'll call Steve if anything changes."
Elizabeth took a glimpse of Austin's door. "Call me if anything changes with Sergeant Bailey. He's being assigned private duty."
"On a cop's salary?" Virginia raised a brow.
"Not him, his brother. He works for a major security company, the Chase Group in DC. I met with their Medical Chief Operations Executive, Pete Walter—very savvy. He says they do this for their staff and families."
"That explains those hunks in khaki and black. Each one is hotter than the next," Virginia said.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Enjoy, Ginny."
"Wouldn't hurt you to gawk either!"
/> The small auditorium at the medical examiner's offices was hot and stuffy. The room was occupied by an assortment of surgeons, pediatricians, fire rescue, police officers, clergy and forensics professionals, including the medical examiner. Elizabeth was Horizon Hospital’s representative on the committee that met quarterly to discuss deaths of children between the ages of birth to eighteen in the surrounding thirty-three counties. The purpose was to find ways to prevent pediatric mortality. Elizabeth ground her teeth thinking about Viola Dufour's death.
The medical examiner posted the first case on the screen: the death of a premature infant after the mother was in a high-speed motor vehicle collision. Elizabeth was so lost in the picture of the perfect baby girl; she missed the question directed her way.
"Dr. Reed? Do you think something more could have been done for the mother?" A fire captain sitting behind her tapped her shoulder, making Elizabeth jump. The ME repeated the question.
"I'm sorry. Um, no. The trauma sheared the mother’s aorta. Nothing short of having an OR there would’ve saved the mother and infant, and even with that, survival was not likely." Elizabeth considered her own traumatic delivery.
The meeting went on to discuss three other deaths, all preventable accidents. The ME shuffled through his paperwork. "There is one more case. A death occurred at Horizon this morning: a sixteen-year-old girl died after an appendectomy. I managed a gross exam at the behest of former Governor Reed's office as well as the girl's father."
Elizabeth shivered. Why is her father interested in this?
The ME detailed his physical findings. "The chart did not show lab work for pregnancy. I'm waiting to see if they missed it in error. I found pus in Morison's pouch and old blood in the abdominal cavity. I also found the left ventricle enlarged and a friable pericardium. The breakdown of the heart was the un-survivable issue." The laboratory results appeared on the screen. "The toxicology testing from my office is not back."