by JJ Lamb
Gina could almost feel the suffering deeply etched into every line in Emma’s face. Gina reached for a tissue from the bedside table and gently wiped away her tears.
“Why do you think your daughter doesn’t love you?”
“I haven’t heard from her in three weeks … three weeks!”
“Oh, Emma,” I’m so sorry.”
* * *
It was lunch time and Gina couldn’t stand one more minute inside the building.
Emma’s unhappiness stayed with her all morning. It was like heavy fingers pressing on her shoulders. When she walked out the front door, a stiff, blast of fresh air blew through her hair, making her feel better—it was enough to finally lighten her spirits.
She strolled down the long driveway, but stayed exactly in the center of the road, remembering that the rattlesnakes hid in the crevices of these roadside rocks.
Not this time, you monsters. I know you’re hiding in there.
She tried to empty her mind; she didn’t want to think about anything. When she approached the end of the long driveway and Comstock was finally out of sight, she could finally breathe freely again.
She was about to turn around when a jeep pulled into the driveway and stopped. Bold lettering on the driver’s door said:
CAPITAL COURIERS
She smiled and waved at the driver.
He had a worried look on his face and he stuck his head out of the window.
“Hi, are you one of the nurses here?
“Yep, unfortunately.”
The courier gave her a weird look, then said, “I hate to ask you, but would you do me a favor and take the mail up to the administrator? I’m really way behind and it would be a big help.”
Gina smiled. “Oh, sure. Glad to.”
The man reached behind his seat and pulled out a small bundle of mail.
“Is that all?” Gina asked.
“Yeah, they never get much.” He stepped out of the Jeep and handed the mail to her. “You sure you don’t mind?”
Gina grasped the bundle. “No, of course not.”
He gave her a wide smile. “Thanks a million.” He jumped back into the vehicle, backed out onto the road, and was gone.
Gina started back up the driveway. She fingered the corners of the letters—most looked like bills and were addressed to Ethan Dayton.
Dull, boring.
She’d been so busy with the mail, she walked right into a depression in the road; the mail flew into the air and scattered on the ground. In addition, it felt like she might have sprained her ankle.
“Dammit!”
She gingerly tested her foot; except for the pain, it seemed okay. She stood and scooped up all the pieces of mail. Among the bills to Ethan was a letter addressed to Emma Goldmich. The return address showed it was from Tuva Goldmich.
“Yahoo!” Despite her injured ankle, she danced in a circle, jumped up and down, and then ran all the way back to the building.
Chapter 33
Gina was ecstatic. She actually had something tangible to offer Emma, something that could bring real hope—mail from her daughter. She shoved the letter deep into her pocket.
When she pushed through the front door of the building and headed for Ethan’s office, she was breathless with excitement.
His door was wide open. She started to walk in, but he looked up at her with stony eyes—it was like a slap in the face; it stopped her in her tracks. Stunned, she remained at the threshold waiting, but he stayed on the telephone and dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
Administrators!
In Gina’s opinion, most health care executives lived in the upper stratosphere, not in the real world of patients with their complex emotional needs. And what they knew about nurses could be written on the thumbnail of a newborn.
At least she and the administrator at Ridgewood Hospital had reached an uneasy truce when she’d tried unsuccessfully to help find his murdered niece. He’d even surprised her by asking her not to leave when she agreed to take on the travel assignment.
But she was never going to come to terms with this man. There was something sinister about Ethan Dayton and his laboratory of floating brains.
She stepped outside his office, leaned against the wall, the letter burning a hole in her pocket. She wouldn’t let Ethan’s attitude get her down. She was going to bring a spark of joy into Emma’s eyes. Gina could almost visualize the woman’s smile.
It wasn’t enough.
She was wasting her time at Comstock. Lack of staffing and minimal patient care left little room for any professional highs. Until the letter for Emma, job satisfaction was hovering near zip.
She zeroed in on the buzz of Ethan’s conversation and tried to hear what he was saying. While she couldn’t make out his words, his tone of voice surprised her.
Her experience told her that he rarely lost his cool, that his emotions were held intact with an iron grip. He was all about the business at hand.
Today, he sounded erratic, his voice running the gamut of emotions, almost out of control.
She checked her watch and knew if she didn’t get this over with soon, she would be late in getting back to the unit. She heard Ethan shout out, “That’s all, goddam it,” followed by the loud slam down of the phone.
She moved from the wall and looked into his office.
His gray eyes took her in. She reluctantly unclenched the bundle of mail she had pressed to her chest, and walked up to his desk.
“The courier was in a rush so he asked me to drop off the mail.” She placed the small bundle on the edge and started to turn away.
“Why you? The courier company has specific instructions that the mail and all other parcels are to be delivered to me and to me only.” Ethan’s voice was tight, demanding. He looked like he would have strangled her had she been close enough.
“The driver said he was running late.”
What’s up with this? Why the hassle? He actually looks worried. Worried? Could Comstock be keeping the patients’ mail from them?
“What,” Ethan said, “were you doing out there in the first place?” His voice was menacing.
“Hey, it was my lunch hour. I went for a walk.” He’d really pushed her I hate administrators button; her internal volcano begin to roil. “Don’t tell me I have to account for my off time, too.”
With that, Gina turned and strolled out of his office without looking back. The letter remained in her pocket like a bomb ready to explode. When she was out of his sight, she could still feel his hostility reaching out, trying to encircle her before she got away.
She could have used the stairs, but she deliberately waited for the elevator to take her one floor up to the unit. She wanted whoever was viewing, or reviewing, the security cameras to see her looking as casual and unconcerned as possible. She entered her ID card and rode the short distance, examining her fingernails all the way. She even faked a yawn.
“You can go to lunch now,” she said to Rocky when she arrived back on the unit.
He looked creepier than usual. Or was she imagining even more trouble from someone who already meant trouble by his mere existence?
“I’ll go when I’m ready!”
The lummox seemed to be hanging around a lot longer than usual when it was time for his break; much less his lunch time.
“Well, get ready!” she said, hands on hips. He glared, turned around, and headed down the hallway. As soon as he was gone, she rushed off to Emma’s room and closed the door behind her.
Emma lay prostrate, staring at the ceiling. She had ignored her lunch tray—tomato juice was coagulating on the sides of a glass, and a cheese sandwich was looking old and stale.
Gina took a deep breath and blurted out, “Emma! I have a letter from your daughter.”
Emma turned her head slowly and looked at Gina; her eyes went from sad to just the hint of sparkle; she smiled tentatively. “You do?”
“Yes! It’s from Tuva.”
Emma began to cry, then so
b. Deep moans shook her body.
Gina’s throat was tight as she fought back her own tears. She stepped closer to the bed and held out the letter.
Emma started to reach for it, but her hands were shaking so much that she gave up and said, “Please read it to me.” Her eyes were still wary, as if Gina might be playing some kind of cruel joke on her.
“Of course!” Gina ripped open the envelope, removed the letter, and began to read.
Dear Mom,
I’m so worried about you. Why don’t you answer my letters? I’ve written to you
everyday and have yet to hear from you. I’ve even tried to call but I can’t get
through to you on your cell and the office there won’t let me talk to you.
Our doctor tries to reassure me, says not to worry. But I can’t help it. I’m very scared. I only have one mother.
I really miss you, Mom. I have no one to talk to about my art, especially since
Nadia is in Europe. And besides, you’re the only one who really gets my paintings.
I can’t wait for you to come home.
Love you.
Tuva
Gina folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. She reached out and gently took Emma’s hand. “I don’t know why you haven’t gotten your letters before, Emma, but I think it might be safer if I kept this for you. Just for now.”
“I don’t understand. Why won’t they let me talk to my Tuva? Why have they kept her letters from me? Why?”
“I wish I had an answer for you, and I will try to find out why. But for now, what say we keep this letter our little secret?”
Emma squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”
When Gina opened the door to leave, Rocky was standing there.
“Why was the door closed?” he demanded.
“Getouddahere, you miserable S-O-B! I don’t have to answer to you about patient care … or anything else, for that matter.”
He stayed in place, like a huge immovable barricade. She stuck out her chin, let a deep breath fill out her 5-10 body, and stared straight into his eyes.
“Man, you better get out of my way, and I mean right now.” She started moving into his space, with no intention of stopping.
He jerked away. “We’re not finished with this.”
“Damn straight!”
* * *
Gina and Harry hurried out the front door like convicts escaping from a prison. They climbed into the Jeep and immediately dug into a couple of stale sandwiches they’d bought from the lunchroom vending machine.
“I told you things were screwy here,” Gina said. “Now I find out that Ethan has been holding back the patients’ mail.”
“As usual, you were the first one to pick up on all the weirdness,” Harry said. “Where does that sixth sense of yours comes from?”
“From always running for my life as a kid.” Gina said, “At least I got something out of that.”
She took a huge bite out of her ham and cheese sandwich. The bread was stale and she had to chew and chew before she could swallow it. It made her think of the soggy sandwich she’d seen in Emma’s room.
“Poor Emma!” she said between bites. “I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to feel so abandoned.”
“Lots of people are neglected by their families.” Harry looked out the window. “You just can’t make people love you. Either they do or they don’t.”
“Well, I’m glad Emma has someone in her life who does.” Gina fanned herself with her hand. “Man, I had to get out of that place and breathe some fresh air even if all I get to look at are those flipping boulders.”
“I miss not having my computer,” Harry said. “You were right—we should have never turned them in. If I could at least do some more research, we might get to the bottom of this whole setup and—”
“—Harry?”
“I’d at least feel like we were doing—”
“—Harry?”
“—something. We’re so isolated out here—”
“—Harry!”
“What is it, doll? I mean, I feel like someone’s cut off my right arm.”
“Harry Lucke!” she yelled. “Will you please be quiet for a moment?”
“I’m sorry.” He drew an imaginary zipper across his mouth, sealing his lips, but he was smiling at her in the next breath.
“I still have my tablet.”
“You have what, your tablet? He … he ordered us to hand over our computers.”
“He didn’t say anything about tablets, did he?”
At first he looked at her with round and startled eyes, then reached out and crushed her tight against him. Both their sandwiches went flying.
“God, I love you, Gina Mazzio!”
She whispered in his ear, “We can also download the flash drive I snatched from Ethan’s desk in the lab.”
He held her at arms length and looked straight into her eyes. “You didn’t?”
“Oh, yes I did.”
Chapter 34
Gina dragged through the rest of the shift, forcing herself to stay focused on the patients. Throughout the day, Rocky had virtually stood on top of her, tailing her, watching her every move. She’d dealt with creeps before, but there was something not only weird, but sadistic about the man. And the way he treated the patients was hair-raising—more like they were things rather than people who needed help.
If she was working in a hospital, there would be places to get away from him, places to hide, places to disappear into. But there was no place here to blend in or become wallpaper. Not at Comstock.
Their apartment was the only safe place inside the building. If it was safe.
Have to face it: nothing is private or off-limits.
When she finally finished the shift, she walked to the elevator, where Harry was waiting for her.
“Where did you—”
Gina tugged down hard on his hand and frowned at him. He nodded, pulled her close, and said nothing
When the door to their apartment clicked shut, Harry said, “Okay, where did you—”
She clamped a hand over his mouth, then went to the pantry, pushed aside stacks of food cans, and pulled out a large cereal box. Inside were the tablet, charger, and Ethan’s flash drive. She took his arm and led him to the bathroom, where she turned the shower and washbasin faucets on full blast.
“This is what people do in the movies,” she whispered in his ear. “Like when they don’t want anyone to hear them.”
“Smart move! I’m not used to all this cloak and dagger stuff.”
“You may be smart, Harry, but you’d make a horrible spy.”
“I didn’t go into nursing to become a spy. If I’d wanted that kind of life, I would have hooked up with the CIA, and I’ll bet they pay a helluva lot more money.” He gave her a big fake smile, showing lots of teeth.
“It’s strange. In the beginning I didn’t really hide the tablet from Ethan … I just forgot it was in my purse.”
“Ah, yes! The bottomless pit.”
“Call it what you want, I don’t leave home without it.”
“If you really think our apartment is bugged, this is way too late to be taking precautions.”
She gave him a who-knew gesture with her hands and squinched up her face as they sat down on the floor. Gina plugged the flash drive into a USB connector, the connector into the tablet, and began downloading the stored files.
“Everything’s gone wrong so quickly, babe. And it’s my fault. I should have been sharper. I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to you.”
“Forget it! We walked into a bad situation, that’s all. Heck, maybe the gods got up on the wrong side of the bed and forgot we were the good guys.”
“I hope they remember soon,” Harry said, “because I’m as spooked as you are.”
“Let’s see what’s on that flash drive.”
The screen filled quickly with a long string of saved files.
“There!” Harry said, pointing t
o the top of screen.
Consent Forms A & Consent Forms B
“Two different consent packages?” Gina said.
They opened the files and compared the two sets. Each listed possible side effects for those taking part in the clinical trial of AZ-1166.
Gina tapped the screen. “Only one set lists severe upswings of age related diseases … crap … even increased dementia?”
“They weren’t taking any chances. It was probably a lot easier to get them to consent to the one that gave the less serious and more common complications.”
“I‘ll bet you the Fiat,” Gina said, “that the non-specific forms will be deleted at some point. That way, anyone investigating will think everyone was properly informed.”
“Did you notice the paragraph about all bodily remains becoming the property of Zelint Pharmaceuticals for further study? And the final disposal … cremation.”
“Yeah. That was in both consent forms,” Gina said.
“Sure as hell would make it difficult for any outside agency to check up on the real cause of death.”
“What’s the point of all the lies?” Gina said. “They either have a clinically sound drug, or they don’t.”
“The point, doll? Money.”
“But that drug is hurting people,” Gina said, “Making them sicker.”
“Never let the truth get in the way of making a buck.”
“That’s pretty sick.”
“Remember that whole lecture from Ethan about industrial espionage?” Harry said.
“Who could forget?”
“It keeps coming back to me,” he said. “Especially since every patient in this facility is no longer on the drug.”
“I’ve got to admit, it did make being here kind of exciting for a few minutes.”
“Exactly. It was nothing but a come-on … he wanted us to think this was a really exotic, important job.”
“Why go to all that trouble?”
“To keep us interested,” Harry said, “to keep us from walking away from the exhausting job that it is.”
“Yeah, a prison with a backbreaking load, terrible hours, and dismal working conditions, plus Rocky and Pete, the cherries on top.”