[Gina Mazzio RN 01.0 - 03.0] Bone Set

by JJ Lamb

  “What does that mean? Are you keeping something from me?”

  Gina looked out toward the hospital, debated whether to end the call. She couldn’t bring herself to accept that Megan Ann might be a victim of the caller. “It’s an internal affair,” she finally said. “We have this nurse who goes on benders and shacks up with guys for two, three days at a time.”

  “And why don’t you think she’s another Wilton or Diaz?”

  “The circumstances are different.”

  Gina heard a rustling of paper, as if Yee were going through her notes.

  “According to what I have here, that pretty much coincides with what people had to say about Wilton.”

  “Possibly, but certainly not Diaz.”

  Yee snorted. “What makes you think morals have anything to do with it? No, don’t answer that. Just tell me how long this one’s been missing.”

  “One or two days. I don’t know if she was supposed to work yesterday. Today, no one’s heard from her.”

  “So this bothers you, Ms. Mazzio, but not enough to let me know? Where’s all that worry and concern for your fellow nurses that you’ve been laying on me?” There was a pause for a sharp intake of breath. “Further, who the hell are you to decide what deserves or doesn’t deserve my attention in an on-going investigation?”

  Gina blurted, “Telling you anything has been mostly counter-productive.”

  “Give me the details,” Yee demanded, “or I’m going to have you picked up and brought down here and see what you have to say in one of our interrogation rooms.”

  Gina filled her in on Megan Ann’s description, address, phone number, and background.

  “Hmm. Interesting.”

  “What’s interesting?”

  It was a couple of beats before Yee responded. “From the information I’ve collected, all three of the Ridgewood nurses are redheads, or at least they were when they disappeared.”

  Gina thought about that for a moment. “You’re right. The only difference is that Shelly and Megan Ann were … are natural redheads. I’m pretty sure Arina’s color came out of bottle. Do you find that significant?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. You got anything else I should know about?”

  “The only other thing I can think of is that Megan Ann was supposed to have had a date Monday night with a drug rep from CHEMwest, Eddie St. George.”

  “Do you know Mr. St. George?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s your take on the dude?”

  “Seems like a nice guy, works for a reputable company. Went out with him once myself.”

  “And?”

  “Just wasn’t my type.”

  “Do you know if he dated Wilton or Diaz?”

  “No. But every nurse I know thinks he’s a hot number, and probably wouldn’t say no if he asked.”

  “And still you’re not suspicious of this guy? You’re something else, Mazzio.” There was a pause. “I’ll send a couple people to check on this St. George guy as soon as I can. Work, home, whatever.”

  Gina took a deep breath, prodded again: “And you’re going to keep looking into what’s happened to Shelly Wilton and Arina Diaz, right?”

  “I think our time for mutual cooperation is over, Mazzio. Unless I say otherwise, don’t call me, I’ll call you.” With that, she hung up.

  Gina lowered her cell and stared at it. The silence closed in around her. She decided to try St. George’s home number. No one answered, but at least he had a message machine.

  Everything was out of whack – Megan Ann, the missing nurses, St. George, Yee, Dominick, Harry – and no one seemed to really care all that much.

  * * *

  Gina found a parking place two blocks from her apartment. As she walked toward the building’s entrance she saw something that made her slow down – Harry was leaning against the brick wall next to the entrance.

  Her first reaction was anger, which was quickly displaced by a sense of relief … and a momentary sense of safety. She hated herself for that feeling of dependence. Was she really that needy? She wanted to hold onto her anger. But was he any different than Yee, Alexandros, Tina, or anyone else she’d tried to get involved in the missing-nurse situation? Seeing Harry only confused her more – one minute she was angry with him and never wanted to see him again, the next minute, she was doing a complete turn around and wanting desperately to be safe in his arms.

  “Hi, doll.”

  She walked up to him, looked into his eyes, and wondered if he knew just how much she had missed him. “Hi, Harry.”

  He held out his arms and moved toward her. She curled against his chest without a word.

  “Things are bad, huh?”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Okay if I come up?”

  She nodded, took his hand, and held it until they were upstairs. Silently, they worked side by side to fix a pot of tea, and when it was ready, they settled down on the couch with a box of Wheat Thins.

  “I’m here to listen,” Harry said. ‘And I’ll do my best to suppress any negative thoughts.”

  “Okay, but when I’m through, please tell me what you really think, no matter what.”

  Gina started at the beginning, telling Harry once again about the original phone call on the advice line, and went on from there about everything that had happened up to the moment she’d come home now to find him outside.

  He held her close, fed her a cracker now and then, and avoided any comment until she finally looked at him with questioning eyes.

  “Vasquez, of all people, is the only person who agrees with your theory?” Harry said. “That’s wild.”

  “And if his niece wasn’t involved, I know I wouldn’t even have his support.”

  “Do you think this cop, Yee, is really doing anything?”

  “Yeah, she’s looking into it, by the book and in her own sweet time. Just how diligently, I’m not sure.”

  “What if there are nurses missing other than Wilton and Diaz, I mean over a period of time, and from places in the Bay Area other than Ridgewood”

  “I think that’s a very strong possibility. It would get too risky for someone to keep taking victims from the same facility.”

  “A lot of my cop friends tell me they usually don’t put in a lot of time on missing person cases unless there’s actual evidence of foul play. Sometimes people just sort of disappear themselves – start over somewhere else because they want to run away from their lives.”

  Gina sipped her tea. “Right now, I feel like doing that myself.”

  Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “That wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, think how lonely I’d be without you?”

  She turned, kissed his cheek, and gave him a small smile. “What you said about other missing nurses did start me thinking. “

  “Yeah? You mean I may be good for something after all?”

  “You’re good for lots of things, Harry.”

  “Just not marriage.”

  “Please, Harry, let’s not go there right now.” She gave him another quick kiss.

  He nodded, but his eyes lost their sparkle.

  “The police must have missing persons data computerized,” Gina said. “Maybe they could develop a list of missing nurses by age groups, similar physical characteristics, that sort of thing?”

  “That makes sense, and certainly something you should put to Detective Yee.”

  “If she’ll talk to me again.”

  * * *

  Yee had finally gotten her desk in some kind of order so she could feel as though she was somewhat on top of her game. She looked at Warren’s picture on the corner of her desk and instead of feeling angry or hopeless, she felt nothing. She reached out and moved it to the bottom drawer, closing her husband inside with the tip of her boot.

  “Pick up, Yee,” the desk sergeant said in a loud voice that made everyone look in her direction.

  “Yee here.”

  “Detective Yee, this is—”

&n
bsp; “Yeah, I know who it is, Ms Mazzio. I thought I made it clear that any communication between us would originate with me.”

  “Well, I wanted to ask you a question. “

  “Listen, I’ve had more than enough of your questions and your innuendos implying I’m not doing my job.”

  “I just want to know if it’s possible to bring up the stats on missing women who might have the same profile as Shelly Wilton and Arina Diaz?”

  “And Megan Ann Hendricks?”

  “Yes, and Megan Ann. The point is, maybe this whole business of missing nurses has been going on for a lot longer than we think, than I think.”

  “Still trying to do our job for us, I see.”

  “No, I–”

  “I’ve tried to be nice about all of this, Ms. Mazzio. But now I’m giving it to you straight: butt out.”

  Yee slammed the phone down into its cradle. “Everyone wants to be a cop; they all think they can do our job better than we can. But none of them ever wants to take a bullet.”

  She’d complained loud enough that other cops in the room looked over at her. She waved them off with an impatient flick of her hand. She started to get up to go fight with the vending machines, instead, she leaned back in her chair and gave a second thought to something Mazzio had said. She reached out and pulled up the master Missing Persons file.

  Chapter 34

  Robert Merz glared at his assistant, who’d pulled him out of a CHEMwest national marketing meeting to take a telephone call. He rubbed hard at the back of his neck, every muscle and tendon a taut rope of steel.

  “He hasn’t what?” he shouted into the phone and looked at his watch: 9:55 a.m. “Where the hell is he?” Merz looked through the glass doors leading to the conference room. Everyone was staring back at him, waiting. “Find him!”

  He couldn’t believe that Eddie St. George had yet to arrive at Ridgewood General with the sample doses of Pneucanex-CW. The bastard knew a TV camera crew from CNN would be waiting to televise the presentation of the free medication to the ailing father of an indigent family.

  Everyone – the CEO of CHEMwest, Ridgewood Administrator Alan Vasquez, the new Oncology Chief Michael Cliffords, and who knew who else – was there, waiting for St. George to arrive with the restructured chemo wonder drug.

  CHEMwest’s public relations veep in New York had spent several months convincing the network to document the story even though the product was really only a variation of their existing drug. Not a real break-through.

  And now Eddie Asshole St. George was screwing up the best possible publicity opportunity they could ever hope for. He knew he should have gone himself, but he had this committee to chair, a damn important meeting, and to have postponed it would have been a major inconvenience He didn’t like to be inconvenienced for one moment.

  Merz hung up on the caller from Ridgewood’s PR department and had Michael Cliffords paged.

  “I’ve just been informed that Eddie St. George is … uh … a little late for the presentation,” he told the oncology chief, nodding to himself as he listened to the angry response

  “Where is he?” Cliffords demanded.

  “We’re trying to locate him now, confirm his time of arrival.”

  “This is an oncology unit, Mr. Merz. We’re trying to cooperate, but all these outsiders represent a significant danger to our immune-compromised patients. We need these people out of here as soon as possible.”

  “Let me get back to you.”

  But Cliffords wouldn’t quit, started going over the same territory again.

  “I know, I know,” Merz said. “Mr. St. George explained the patient’s circumstances when he proposed this gesture. We are certainly empathetic with the man’s financial situation, and how the HMO wouldn’t cover the additional cost of the new drug.”

  Merz wanted to hang up, but he needed to buy time. “The stats are solid, doctor. And they’re exciting. The best cure rate out there.”

  “Yes, yes, but where is it?” Cliffords insisted.

  “The medication will be there,” Merz said. “I’m sorry for this inexcusable delay, and for upsetting your patient, you, the Ridgewood staff, and, of course, CNN. I promise we’ll make it right. St. George will be there any minute. “

  “Forget St. George. Bring the drug over yourself. Now.”

  Merz tapped a pencil on his desk so hard the slim piece of yellow-painted wood splintered; he swept the pieces onto the rug and tried to rein in his fury. This was no time to let his short fuse catch fire. He had no choice but to confess another embarrassing fact to Cliffords. He took a deep breath and said, “St. George has the only supply of Pneucanex-CW in the area.”

  He cringed as the receiver at the other end abruptly clicked off.

  “Get that son-of-a-bitch St. George on the horn,” he yelled at his assistant. “Now!”

  “He’s not answering his cell.”

  “Well, for Christ’s sake, don’t just stand there like a limp dick. Look up his landline … try his goddam apartment … send someone to his apartment. Do I have to tell you everything?”

  The assistant spun around and slid sideways through the doorway. Merz watched him depart, could tell he was pissed. For the umpteenth time, he wished he had a female assistant again.

  Just as dumb but better to look at.

  No, no more female assistants. One more harassment gig could cost him more than he cared to imagine.

  His collar tightened the way it always did when his blood pressure was on the rise.

  In the midst of all of this he pondered the nasty question again: Does it pay to fly the straight and narrow?

  Fucking “A” it does!

  His last female assistant, who was extraordinarily voluptuous, had threatened to go to the press. Cost CHEMWest a pretty penny to squash that whole sexual mess. Merz had thought she’d wanted it – he sure as hell knew he had! Stirred up a real hornet’s nest when she claimed he assaulted her. What the hell did these women want anyway? Prince Charming? Couldn’t afford to be in the middle of another mess like that again. Ever!

  He took a loop around the desk.

  Shit!

  He wasn’t going to wait for his assistant. He snatched up the phone and tapped in St. George’s automatic dial.

  * * *

  Eddie stared at his cell phone; the chiming had been incessant. He gritted his teeth, finally answered.

  “Why the hell aren’t you at Ridgewood with that friggin’ drug?” Merz shouted.

  The question was shrill. Eddie held the receiver far from his ear. He’d expected it to be Father, not Merz.

  “Angie’s supposed to be handling it,” he lied. “I’m sick, have a fever.”

  “I don’t give a fuck if your balls are melting and running down your leg. You’re due at Ridgewood. Past due! Get your ass over there!”

  Eddie’s hand shook as he let the phone slip from his fingers onto the glass tabletop. He broke out in a bubbling sweat, eased himself down onto the floor. This was the first time Merz had ever yelled at him.

  A wheeze exploded from his mouth. He couldn’t breathe. The harsh sounds grew louder.

  Megan Ann, naked, rushed out of the bedroom, a glass full of vodka clutched in one hand. She sloshed the booze over the brim, ignored the spill

  “Eddie, what’s the matter?”

  She grabbed for his hand, missed, and spilled more vodka on the polished bamboo.

  He jerked his head towards the desk, where an inhaler was perched on the edge. She grabbed it, flipped off the cover, and put it to his lips. Holding it there, she lowered herself onto the floor next to him.

  “Use it, baby.” She compressed the inhaler. “Breathe!”

  His eyes were swimming in tears, his chest collapsing. Megan Ann caressed his head, rubbed his back, crooned words he couldn’t grasp.

  …over the rainbow …somewhere…

  Sound contracted, expanded. Didn’t Mother sing that song to him?

  He gasped in air, and with it came the
metallic taste of the medication that had saved him so many times. The room stopped its crazy spin.

  Eddie got up, moved slowly to the dining room table, sat down, and remained perfectly still. He looked out at the penthouse patio. He was afraid to move, afraid to interrupt the even flow of air that was rhythmically filling his lungs.

  “Feeling better now, Eddie?” Megan Ann asked.

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  “I know there’re better medications than this out there to control your asthma. You were in pretty bad shape.”

  “I’m supposed to be the drug rep, remember?” He smiled weakly at her as his shoulders sagged in relaxation. He was almost himself when his cell chimed – it shattered the silence

  They both stared at it.

  “Please don’t answer it, Eddie.”

  He let it ring several times before putting it to his ear.

  “You’re fired!” Robert Merz yelled.

  “Bob—”

  “It’s Mr. Merz to you, dickhead. When I told you to get down to that hospital, I meant right then. Not when you fucking well felt like it. And don’t talk to me about Angie. I called her; she didn’t have the foggiest idea of what I was talking about. You’re a goddam liar. You have the dosages, not that simpering cunt.”

  “I can’t help it. I told you before, I’m really ill.”

  “If you think you’re sick now, wait till the bill collectors come after that fancy Jaguar of yours.”

  “How can you fire me?” Eddie said. “Haven’t I always come through for you, for CHEMwest?” He couldn’t stop himself. “Haven’t I always done the job? My stats are better than any other rep.”

  “Well, Mr. Goodjob, that was yesterday.”

  “But I’ve never failed you,” Eddie pleaded.

  “Never’s just a long time, St. George,” Merz said. “And again, that was yesterday. Today, in case you’ve forgotten, I have a CNN reporter and camera crew at Ridgewood, ready to film our generosity in providing a drug that, goddam it, isn’t there, or even close to being there.”

  “I … I haven’t forgotten.”

  “This whole friggin’ affair was entrusted to you, Mr. Super Salesman.”