One More Second Chance

by Jana Richards

  Dr. Campbell gave Ava a warm smile and patted her knee. “I knew you were a brave girl. We won’t be long.” When he turned to Julia, the smile was gone.

  She followed him out of the examining room and stepped to one side as he closed the door. His jaw clenched as he turned to look at her, and fear wrapped itself around her heart and squeezed.

  “What did the x-ray find?” she asked.

  “A spiral fracture of the right arm.” He paused for a moment and took a deep breath as if trying to control his emotions. “I’ve seen this kind of injury before. A fracture like this can be the result of a fall, but it can also be an indication of child abuse. An arm as small as Ava’s will break like a twig if it’s twisted hard enough. I’m obligated to contact the authorities if I suspect abuse.”

  Julia stared at him in shock, her brain struggling to process his words, as if trying to translate some unintelligible language. The words child abuse rang in her ears. Finally she found her voice.

  “You think someone deliberately hurt her?”

  “Her injuries are consistent with abuse.”

  “I don’t give a damn what they’re consistent with. Ava has not been mistreated. My mother said she fell down the stairs, and if that’s what she said, then that’s what happened.”

  “I believe there’s more to the story than a simple fall.”

  “If it comes down to believing you or believing my mother, I’m going with my mother.”

  “Perhaps you don’t know your mother as well as you think you do.”

  Julia sucked in a breath and stared into Dr. Campbell’s dark, accusing eyes. The idea that her mother would hurt Ava was ridiculous. She adored Ava, would do anything for her…

  She blinked and looked away, remembering an incident the other day. She’d heard her yelling at Ava about the milk she’d spilled on the kitchen floor, making such a huge deal of it that Ava had cried. It had struck her as strange, since she couldn’t remember her mother yelling at anyone, ever. She wasn’t as patient as she used to be. And how did she explain her strange phone call telling her Ava had been hurt? Of course she’d been upset, but her mother had been nearly incoherent with distress. Was something going on she wasn’t aware of? She was seventy-one now. Maybe looking after a rambunctious five-year-old was too much for her.

  No. She shook her head to reject the disloyal thought. Dr. Campbell was the one who was wrong.

  “I know my mother. She didn’t do this. It was an accident.”

  “We’ll soon find out. Sharon is questioning Ava now.”

  Julia stared at the door. “She’ll be scared, all by herself.”

  “Sharon’s very good at what she does. She has a way of making kids feel comfortable.”

  Julia turned on him, the anger and despair she’d been holding inside spilling out. “And you? Do you enjoy upsetting five-year-olds and turning families’ lives upside down? Does it make you feel powerful to sic the authorities on us?”

  “Look, Mrs. Stewart, I take no pleasure in bringing in the authorities. But I’ve seen child abuse, up close and personal, and I can tell you it’s damn ugly. The things parents and caregivers are capable of doing to defenseless children…”

  He stopped abruptly, his chest heaving. Closing his eyes, he averted his face and took a deep breath. When he turned back to her, his steely control was back in place. “So yeah, if I have even the smallest suspicion that a child has been abused, I’m going to ask questions. And I’m not going to apologize for it.”

  It was Julia’s turn to look away. How had it come to this? What was going on with her parents?

  Sharon emerged from the examining room and closed the door. “Apparently, Ava went down the stairs to get her teddy bear and tripped on a box of laundry detergent that had been left on the stairs.”

  “Mr. Fizz,” Julia said with a moan. This was all because of a teddy bear?

  “Excuse me?” Sharon asked.

  Julia swallowed the sob that wanted to escape. “Mr. Fizz is the bear. Ava’s had him since she was a baby. She takes him everywhere.” How had Mr. Fizz ended up in the basement?

  “Does your mother normally watch Ava while you’re at work, Mrs. Stewart?” Sharon asked.

  “No. My regular babysitter had an appointment today. Ava’s in kindergarten part-time. She only goes to the sitter when she’s not at school.”

  Sharon turned to Dr. Campbell. “What were the results of the skeletal survey?”

  “There were no broken bones aside from her right arm, and no indication of any previous breaks. Her medical records show no history of trips to the ER for any sort of similar trauma.”

  Sharon nodded. “Good. Given what Ava has told me, I think we can safely conclude that her injuries were the result of an unfortunate accident. Mrs. Stewart, I’m sorry we put you through the wringer. I hope you understand that whenever there’s any question about a child’s safety, we need to look into it.”

  As an educator, Julia understood. She’d asked questions about a student’s bruises a few times during her career. She knew it was important not to turn a blind eye. But as a parent, it was devastating to be on the other end of those questions. She’d never felt more helpless in her life.

  She managed a simple nod. “Can I go to Ava now?”

  “Of course.”

  The doctor followed her into the examining room. The nurse had cleaned Ava’s scrapes, bandaging one on her left elbow with a Band-Aid emblazoned with the face of a cartoon character.

  “You’re almost done, Ava,” Dr. Campbell said. “We’re going to send you to the cast room now. What’s your favorite color?”

  “Pink,” she said without hesitation.

  The doctor grinned, the smile transforming his face from intense to carefree. “I think we can arrange for you to have a cast in that color.” He turned to Julia, all business once more. “Fortunately, even though the fracture is a spiral, it has clean edges that fit together well, so we can cast it without Ava having to undergo surgery. I’m going to use a fiberglass cast so we can take some x-rays while it’s in place and make sure the arm is healing properly.”

  Julia took a deep breath and pushed down the tears of stress and exhaustion that wanted to fall. “How long will she have to wear the cast?”

  “About a month. Please make a follow-up appointment so we can check on Ava in a week.”

  She nodded, too tired and upset to do much else. The doctor smiled at Ava.

  “I’ve got to go now, but I know our cast technician will take real good care of you. You’ve been a very brave girl, Ava. I’ll see you at your next appointment.”

  Like hell he will. Julia would make damn sure they saw Dr. Willson next time. She didn’t want to see Dr. Campbell ever again.

  But in a town as small as Lobster Cove, Maine, that likely wasn’t an option.

  Chapter Two

  The emergency room buzzed with people, noise, and activity. Just the way he liked it.

  A rush of adrenalin surged through Alex Campbell’s veins as he dealt with patient after patient. A car accident on the main highway just outside of Lobster Cove had kept him busy most of the afternoon. Thankfully, the injuries were limited to broken bones, cuts, and abrasions, with only one admission. There was all the usual stuff for a Friday night—a couple of drunks who’d gotten into a bar fight, a baby with croup, a toddler who’d stuck a button up her nose. Fortunately for the citizens of the Lobster Cove area, he rarely saw the injuries he’d dealt with as a resident in the ER of the San Diego hospital where he’d worked before coming here, things like gunshot wounds and stabbings. The only GSW he’d treated in the fourteen months so far at the Lobster Cove Hospital was during hunting season, when a trigger-happy hunter shot his buddy in the rear end. He’d spent a good hour picking buckshot out of the unfortunate fellow’s ass.

  There was nothing more exhilarating than a busy ER. The only thing missing tonight was a heart attack. But the night was still young.

  Nurse Novak hurried toward him,
her ponytail bobbing. “Dr. Campbell, we’ve got a suspected heart attack in examining room one. Can you come quickly?”

  Be careful what you wish for, Alex. He fell into step beside her. Tracy Novak was his favorite nurse in the ER. Her calm demeanor put patients at ease, and he could always count on her common sense, efficiency, and excellent nursing skills. But at the moment, tension flowed off her in waves.

  “What’s going on?”

  “My best friend’s father is the suspected heart attack,” she said with a frown. “Occupational hazard of working the ER in the same community you grew up in.”

  “I’ll bet.” It must be tough. He’d been too busy to get to know a lot of people outside of the hospital, so he’d been able to maintain a professional distance with his patients. Distance was important. He never wanted to get so close that he lost objectivity. That was why when his contract expired in ten more months he was heading back to San Diego.

  That, and the warm weather in San Diego. One winter in Maine was plenty; two would be more than enough. Why people willingly endured that horror year after year he had no idea.

  Tracy pushed open the door of the examining room, and Alex followed her, grabbing the chart off the front of the door as he entered. When he looked up, he saw a familiar pair of blue eyes. Blue eyes that narrowed in dismay when they recognized him.

  “Mrs. Stewart. How’s Ava? I haven’t seen her since she broke her arm a couple of weeks ago.”

  She lifted her chin. “She’s fine. She’s seeing Dr. Willson.”

  Her message was clear. She didn’t want him anywhere near her daughter, and if she had her druthers, she likely wouldn’t want him treating her father, either.

  Too bad for her. He was the only doctor in the ER tonight.

  Tracy looked from her friend to him and back again before clearing her throat. “Dr. Campbell, this is Paul Dawson. He’s seventy-five years old and has a history of stable angina. He’s been experiencing chest pain, sweating, heart palpitations, and nausea on and off all evening.”

  “Let’s take some blood to check for heart enzymes.”

  “Right. What about an EKG?”

  “Yes, as soon as possible.”

  “I’m on it.” She grabbed the phone and made a couple of quiet calls.

  Alex lifted Mr. Dawson’s hand and felt the pulse at his wrist. It was beating way too fast. He gentled his voice. “When we get the test results back, we’ll have a better idea what we’re dealing with. Do you take nitroglycerin for your angina, Mr. Dawson?”

  The man avoided his gaze. “Usually.”

  “Did you take some tonight?”

  He shook his head and stared at the ceiling. “No.”

  Before Alex could ask why not, Julia Stewart jumped in. “Why on earth didn’t you take your nitro, Dad?”

  Alex felt his patient’s pulse jump. Paul Dawson took a deep breath and looked at his daughter. “I ran out and forgot to refill the prescription. It’s no big deal. I told you it was just the angina. We didn’t need to come here.”

  She tenderly smoothed his hair. “You should have told me. I could have gone to the pharmacy for you.”

  “You’re too busy to be bothering with my prescriptions. You’ve got all your responsibilities at the school, not to mention you have Ava to look after by yourself.”

  “Dad—”

  He lifted his head from the pillow, his face turning red. “I want to go home. We have to go home and look after Ava.”

  “Ava’s fine with Mom. You need to stay here and let the doctor treat you.”

  “No!” Sweat broke out on his forehead, and his pulse raced. “We need to go home!”

  “Okay, Dad, okay,” she soothed. She rubbed his shoulder in gentle circles. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go home and check on Mom and Ava.”

  Mr. Dawson let out a long, shaky exhalation, rested his head on the pillow once more, and closed his eyes. “That’s good. You should go now. Stay with your mother. I’ll be all right.”

  She looked up at Alex, her eyes full of confusion. She didn’t understand, but he was beginning to.

  “Mr. Dawson, these bouts of angina you’ve been experiencing this evening, how long do they last?”

  “Maybe ten, fifteen minutes, if I lie quietly and let them pass. Then in a little while they start up again.”

  “But in between, all the symptoms disappear?”

  He considered the question for a moment. “Yes.”

  “How’s your wife, Mr. Dawson?”

  Paul Dawson opened his eyes. Alex watched his body tense, his free hand clenching at his side. “Dora hasn’t been feeling well. It’s best if Ava stays with someone else.”

  Julia frowned at her father. “Mom is sick? She didn’t say anything earlier. What’s wrong with her?”

  “Just a cold, but you know she doesn’t like to complain.” He gripped her arm, sweat breaking out on his forehead once more. “Go, Julia. Please.”

  She got to her feet, clearly reluctant to leave him. “Okay, Dad, I’m leaving.”

  Tracy put her hand on Mr. Dawson’s shoulder. “How about if I see if my brother Logan is busy tonight? He could check on Dora and Ava. Ava adores him.”

  “That’s because he feeds her junk food,” Julia said, trying to smile for her father.

  “Yes, Logan’s good with Ava.” He closed his eyes, clearly exhausted. “I guess that would be okay. But just for a short time. Just till we get home.”

  “I’ll make a quick call to Logan and see if he’s available, and if he’s not, I know Edie’s home tonight. I’m sure she could look after Ava.” Tracy headed to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Oh, sure,” Julia said in a bright voice that sounded forced to Alex. “Edie’s little girl is the same age as Ava. Maybe they can have a sleepover.”

  “Maybe.” Mr. Dawson kept his eyes closed. He seemed to be resting for the moment, now that he knew someone he trusted would be checking in on Ava and his wife.

  The question was why was it so important to him that Ava not be alone with Dora Dawson? Had his suspicions about Mrs. Dawson abusing her granddaughter been right after all? Two weeks ago when she’d presented at the hospital, Ava herself told him she’d fallen. There’d been nothing to indicate a history of abuse, and her injuries were consistent with a fall down the stairs. He and Sharon from Child Protective Services had backed off, satisfied it had been an accident, just as the child said.

  Now he wasn’t so sure. Did Julia’s father believe Mrs. Dawson was a danger to the five-year-old? Ava was a fragile little girl. She needed their protection. Anger filled his chest, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself.

  Distance, he told himself. Objectivity.

  Tracy re-entered the room. “Logan’s on his way to your house, Paul. He’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”

  He closed his eyes and let out a relieved breath. “That’s good. Thank you.”

  With a squeeze to Mr. Dawson’s shoulder, Tracy smiled.

  “You’re welcome. For now, just try to relax.”

  A moment later, a technician with a portable electrocardiogram machine knocked once before entering, and Alex took the opportunity to make his exit.

  “Mr. Dawson, I’ll be back when your test results are in. You just relax for now. We’re going to take good care of both you and Ava tonight.”

  He raised his head from the pillow. “But you’re not going to keep me here, are you?”

  “That depends on what your test results say, but I have a feeling you’re going to sleep in your own bed tonight.”

  Mr. Dawson sighed deeply. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “You’re welcome.” He caught Julia’s eye. “Can I speak to you for a moment, Mrs. Stewart?”

  She nodded and rose to her feet. Alex held open the door for her, and they walked together to an empty examining room at the end of the hall. Julia sat in the chair next to the examining table, her blue eyes ringed with dark circles of fatigue, her shoulders slumped
in weariness. Alex pulled another chair close and leaned toward her, their knees almost touching. She looked small and fragile and very vulnerable. The urge to pull her into his arms, to soothe her, protect her, came out of nowhere. He blinked and sat up straight in an attempt to put some space between them, both figuratively and literally.

  “Mrs. Stewart, your father’s test results will be ready shortly, and I think they’ll confirm my suspicion that he hasn’t suffered a heart attack.”

  She sagged in relief, her eyes filling with tears. “Thank God.”

  Alex had to stop himself from touching her. He clasped his hands together. “I believe what he’s experiencing is a series of panic attacks.”

  She looked at him in confusion. “Panic attacks? Why? What would cause that?”

  “Anxiety, extreme stress. Can you think of any source of stress in his life that might cause this?”

  Two vertical lines of worry formed between her brows, marring the perfect, pale skin. “No…I don’t know. He’s been retired for almost ten years. He and Mom lead a quiet life. They go to church, see their friends, work in the garden. I can’t understand where any stress would be coming from.”

  He took a deep breath before pushing on, knowing he was heading into dangerous territory with his next question. “Two weeks ago, when you brought Ava here, she had been hurt while staying at your parents’ house. Tonight your father was adamant that Ava not be alone with your mother. Do you think he could be upset because he’s afraid she hurt Ava last time and she might hurt her again?”

  Julia inhaled sharply, her eyes widening. “No! Are we back to that again? I told you before, it’s not possible.”

  “Then how do you explain your father’s vehemence?”

  “He’s sick, and he’s upset. He doesn’t want them to be alone.”

  “Mrs. Stewart—”

  She got to her feet so quickly her chair scraped backwards on the linoleum floor. “I want to be with my father.”

  “Of course.”

  Alex stood and moved his chair out of the way. Julia slung her purse over her shoulder and started for the door. He stopped her with a hand on her arm. She stared at his hand, and then lifted her gaze to look into his face, her eyes ablaze in blue fire.