by Leann Harris
“Maybe’s she nervous about seeing a stranger. Doc Talbot was here for thirty years.”
Billy tapped his heel on the floor, a sign of nervousness that often accompanied his eye-twitching. “I guess.”
Derek listened to the tapping for several moments, trying to decide the best way to say what he needed to say. “Billy.”
“Yeah.”
“Some folks might consider what you did to Dr. Courtland’s car illegal. The county D.A. would consider it criminal mischief.”
“I’m not going to charge her for repairs,” Billy replied, sitting up straight.
“That’s a moot point. What you did was wrong. If the lady doctor wants to press charges, she’s got every right.”
“You can’t tell me you weren’t worried about your daughter when she had the flu.”
“Of course I was, but I didn’t snatch a doctor off the road and hold her car hostage.”
Billy mumbled an incoherent answer. A frown creased the mechanic’s brow. “You think the doc will press charges?”
“She was pretty mad about what you did,” Derek answered truthfully.
“Could you talk her out of it?” Billy sounded like a hopeful little boy.
“I shouldn’t try.”
“Come on, Derek. Would you do this for your best friend?”
What Billy was asking him to do was excuse his criminal behavior. Billy was arguing that the circumstances justified his actions. “I can’t do that.”
Billy shook his head. “I didn’t think you could. You know, since your divorce, you’ve become a pompous ass.”
Didn’t he know it.
* * *
Alex tried to keep her expression pleasant and neutral, ignoring the deep concern tightening her stomach. Opening the patient file that Dr. Talbot had kept on Norma Bolton, she scanned it looking for the last recorded weight.
“You’ve lost some weight, haven’t you, Norma?”
“About twenty pounds, but it was all weight I could spare.” She coughed into a tissue. When the spasm passed, she smiled weakly at Alex. “It’s been a hard way to lose it.”
Norma had all the classic symptoms. A persistent deep cough, fever, night sweats, lack of appetite, weight loss, fatigue. All these symptoms had lasted for months.
“Well, what’s your opinion, doc? What do I have? It’s bronchitis, right? Doc Talbot told me to stop smoking, but it’s the one vice I allow myself.”
Now wasn’t the time to panic Norma. That could come later. “It could be bronchitis, but it might be something else. A fungus, asthma. I’ll need to run a couple of tests to be able to make a correct diagnosis.”
“What kind of tests?”
Here’s where the rubber met the road. “I’ll need to do what’s called a PPD test.” Alex waited for Norma’s reaction. If she knew what the test was used for, she might become alarmed.
“What’s that?”
No panic. Things were progressing well. “PPD is short for purified protein derivative. I inject this protein under the skin on the inside of your forearm. Then we wait seventy-two hours and see how your body reacts to the test.”
“Can you do it here?”
“Yes, if there’s a PPD test available. If there isn’t, then I’ll have to send to the nearest hospital for one.”
Norma quietly studied her. “What’s this test for?”
Alex closed the folder and laid it on the counter behind her. “It’s just a precaution. To eliminate some of the far-out possibilities.”
“Name me one.”
Rats, Alex silently said to herself. She’d hoped to get away without telling Norma what she suspected. The people out here in west Texas were tough, independent and wanted reasons for everything. “Tuberculosis.”
All the color, which wasn’t much, drained from the older woman’s face. Her eyes went black with fright. Alex grasped Norma’s hand and rubbed it.
“Listen to me, Norma. This is only a possibility.”
“Then what makes you think I have it?”
It was like walking a tightrope, trying to get Norma to allow the test, yet keeping her calm. Alex couldn’t tell Norma that she recognized the combination of symptoms because she’d seen them with more and more frequency over the past years. TB was a rising problem with the poor and homeless population that Alex dealt with at the charity hospital. “You have some of the symptoms and I wanted to rule it out.”
“I remember my grandmother talking about friends who died of TB.”
“Today, TB is not a death warrant. If, and I stress if, you have it, you’ll be on several medications for a year. If you finish the prescribed therapy, there’s no reason you won’t recover.”
Norma clasped her ink-stained fingers tightly. “You know, Dr. Courtland, I’m not the only one who’s been sick this winter. Do you suppose that maybe I’m not the only one with this?”
A sick dread squeezed Alex’s heart. “Norma, we don’t know if you have TB. Let’s just tackle one thing at a time.”
* * *
Derek and Billy frowned at each other at the noise that came from the examining room. It sounded like the slamming of a door. It happened several times in a row.
“What’s going on in there?” Billy asked.
“The doc’s looking for something. Maybe I ought to go see if I can help her.”
“Do that,” Billy agreed.
Derek had just stepped into the hallway when Alex and Norma emerged from the small room.
“Everything okay?” he asked. “Billy and I heard slamming doors and wondered what was happening.”
Alexandra’s eyes bored into his. “I was looking for a PPD test to give Norma.”
Shock held him in place for a moment. He knew what PPD tests were used for. He’d been tested a couple of years ago when a homeless man he’d collared for breaking into a business had been diagnosed with active TB. He cleared his throat. “Did you find one?”
“No. I’ll need to call the nearest hospital and get one.” Alexandra’s voice was calm, and he was grateful for her composed attitude. He wondered if Norma knew what the test was used for.
Billy walked to his mother-in-law’s side. “How are you?”
“I don’t know. Dr. Courtland needs to do some tests.”
Billy frowned. “What kind of tests? Why can’t she just tell you what’s wrong with you? Doc Talbot could’ve.” Billy directed his words at Alexandra. “What kind of doctor are you?”
“Billy,” Norma protested.
“Well, it’s true,” Billy replied, defending himself.
“Then next time,” Alexandra said in a cold tone, “you’ll have to be more selective in the doctor whose car you hijack.”
“What?” Norma said, turning to her son-in-law. “What did you do?”
Alex grasped Norma’s hand. “Don’t worry about it. All we need to do is discover what’s wrong with you.”
It was obvious from her reaction that the lady doctor could handle herself, but a protective instinct sprang to life in Derek. What was wrong with his friend to jump all over Alexandra the way he had? Reining in his deep anger so he wouldn’t sound like a raving idiot, he growled, “Billy, I believe you owe the lady an apology. Then afterward, you can take Norma home.”
A dull red stain crept up the mechanic’s neck. His foot kicked some imaginary object on the floor. “I’m sorry. Sometimes my mouth works before my brain gets into gear.”
“Try ‘always,’” Derek mumbled to himself.
The corner of Alex’s mouth twitched, and he guessed she’d overheard his remark. Well, the lady deserved a little laugh after the day she’d had in Saddle.
Norma gave the doctor an apologetic smile. “I’ll be at the post office until five. Then home. Call me when you need me.”
“Norma, you’ll need to find someone to take over your job at the post office. Until we know what you have, it isn’t wise for you to be in contact with others. Go home and rest.”
Norma’s lips pressed into a
grim line. She nodded, then walked out of the clinic.
Billy frowned as he watched Norma leave. He glanced at Derek, then Alex. “What’s going on?”
“Why don’t you see if you can help Norma,” Derek answered.
It looked as if Billy wanted to argue but Derek folded his arms across his chest, silently telling Billy he wasn’t going to get any more information. His friend got the message and left without another word.
Derek waited a moment before turning to Alexandra. “Pay no attention to Billy. He’s got as much sense as a gnat.” He thought for a moment, then added, “Maybe less.”
She shrugged. “I’ve run into several men with attitudes similar to his.” Her eyes clouded and her mouth compressed into a tight line. She shook off the odd melancholy. “But Billy’s attitude is not the problem. It’s Norma. I think she has an active case of tuberculosis. And if she does, then we’re going to need to start checking others. Her family is the first group that needs to be tested.”
“What makes you think it’s TB? It’s such an unusual diagnosis, especially out here.”
She rounded on him. “Are you going to question my qualifications, too? Does my being a woman somehow make my judgment of less value than a man’s?” She stood with her fists on her hips, chin out in a challenging tilt.
Derek thought he’d just asked a simple question. But from her violent response he decided something else was going on besides his asking about TB. He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, this has nothing to do with your judgment or your sex. I can’t fault either.”
It was the wrong thing to say because her blue eyes went dark with anger. “My sex?”
“Whoa, lady. Don’t jump to any conclusions.”
Her shoulders relaxed and her hands left her hips. “All right, I’m listening. Please explain what you meant.”
“What I meant was how did you come to the conclusion Norma has TB? I mean, it’s not the top disease on everyone’s list. It’s kind of unusual, you must admit. But it was rampant in my grandmother’s youth, not today.”
She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead, and Derek had the impression that the weight of the world rested on her slender shoulders.
“I’m sorry I overreacted,” she said. “I’ve seen too much of the bad side of humanity lately. I just assumed the worst.”
He wondered what she’d been through that had made her so defensive and suspicious. Of course, he couldn’t point any fingers after his years on the street as a cop and his bitter divorce two years ago. Yeah, he could identify with being cynical. “No problem.”
A frown creased her brow. “But it is. When you stop trusting people...”
Her shoulders slumped and Derek wanted to wrap his arm around her slender form and draw her close. But if he succumbed to that impulse, it would only lead to disaster. He had the feeling that if he laid a finger on her, she’d smack him. Not that it wouldn’t be worth it, but he didn’t want to add a physical confrontation to the indignities she had already endured. Still, he was tempted.
“You asked about the TB.”
Her voice brought him out of his mental wanderings and he hoped none of his thoughts showed on his face.
“In Houston I worked with the indigent population where TB is a rising problem. Norma has all the classic symptoms. I ruled out asthma, because she didn’t respond to the inhaled medicine. Bronchitis wouldn’t have acted the way this has over time. Now, it could be a fungus she picked up or lung cancer since she’s a smoker, but I’ve got this gut feeling...” She fell silent and gave him a look that was equal parts embarrassment and need for him to understand.
“Being a cop, I understand gut feelings. It’s saved my bu—backside more than once.”
She grinned and glanced down at the part of his anatomy he’d mentioned. He felt that gaze like a gentle caress and his body reacted immediately.
“Don’t look so shocked,” she told him, humor lacing her words. “Women look.”
He wanted to tell her he’d done some looking of his own, but wisely decided not to mention it.
“But there’s one thing that’s bothering me. Out here in the open spaces it’s unusual that she’d be exposed long enough to catch TB.”
“She who?” Derek asked.
“Norma.” Alexandra graced him with a look that said, Why can’t you follow a simple conversation? He could if it was linear. This one wasn’t.
She bit her bottom lip and Derek’s gaze was riveted on the action. What would it be like—
“Norma’s the postmistress, right?”
His hormones were clouding his brain function. “Yes,” he finally managed to answer.
She walked to the window and looked down the street. “What does the post office look like?”
Was he missing something here? “Four walls and a roof. Why?”
It was as if someone had put a steel rod in her spine. “What kind of walls? How old is the building? What kind of lighting does it have?”
“Why is that important?”
She turned and crossed her arms. The action drew her shirt tight over her breasts. She was the best-looking doc he’d ever seen.
“Because, Deputy, that could be the key to this mystery. If the post office is small, dark and poorly ventilated, then Norma having TB would make sense.”
He gave her a puzzled frown.
“To catch TB you have to be exposed to it over time. Small enclosed places are breeding grounds for TB bacillus.”
The seriousness of the situation hit home and Derek swallowed hard. “I hope that there’s another explanation.”
“Why?”
“Because my daughter spends her afternoons with Norma after she gets out of school.”
Chapter 3
After calling the hospital in Alpine to make sure they had the PPD tests, Derek arranged for his daughter, Sarah, to stay with Mabel until he got back, which would be close to midnight.
The drive to the hospital passed in total silence. Alex knew that the deputy sheriff was worried about his daughter. He had a right to be. After seeing the post office she was even more convinced that what they were dealing with was TB.
The building was a hundred-year-old landmark. The stone had come from the Davis Mountains to the west, brought to Saddle on the backs of donkeys. The ventilation was poor and the direct sunlight minimal. It was a textbook example of the breeding ground for TB bacteria. And if Derek’s daughter spent two to four hours daily in that building with Norma, chances were the twelve-year-old also had tuberculosis.
The thought upset Alex. After all the suffering she’d seen in Bosnia—the death, the wanton wounding and raping—a numbness had encased her soul that had lasted months. Yet concern for Sarah Grey’s plight had broken through that indifference, which surprised her.
It also confused her. After three years working in the emergency room at Ben Taub, dealing with the tragedies that occurred in a big city like Houston, then the time in Bosnia, Alex wasn’t sure there was anything left in her to give to patients.
She admitted to herself that it had been unwise for her to immediately return to Ben Taub. That first morning, ten minutes into her shift, a shooting victim had been wheeled in and she’d discovered she couldn’t handle the feelings and visions that swamped her. After that, she had decided to quit medicine altogether, but her boss, Everett Carlin, had talked her into taking a month’s vacation before doing anything rash.
And that’s how she managed to be out in west Texas. An old high school friend had married a park ranger in Big Bend National Park and Alex had spent the past month enjoying the wild beauty of the Chisos Mountains. But she was no closer to knowing what to do with her life than the day she left Houston.
“There’s the hospital,” Derek said, pointing to the white stucco building at the foot of the mountains. He whipped his Jeep into a tight parking space and turned off the ignition.
Alex took a deep breath to calm her racing heart as she glanced at the hospital. She could do
this, she sternly told herself. But the instant she stepped through the hospital doors, a sense of panic gripped her. She wanted to turn and run into the cool evening air.
“Are you all right?”
Derek’s deep voice broke through her anxiety. She glanced up into his handsome face and saw concern.
“I’m fine,” she said, pasting a smile on her face.
“You sure?” The man was too perceptive. It would be hard to hide secrets from him, if she had any.
“Who’s the doctor here?” she asked, trying to divert his attention from her reaction.
“You are,” he calmly replied, “but I’m the peace officer and can smell a falsehood a mile off.”
Great, a cop with a minor in psychology. “Shouldn’t we see about the tests?”
He hesitated, then nodded. After checking with the receptionist for directions, they made their way to Dr. John Shelly’s office.
As they walked down the hall, the familiar smell, the clatter of dishes as the attendant served dinner to the patients, the voices floating out of the rooms pressed in on Alex, smothering her. She didn’t want to be here.
The head of county health stood outside his office. He glanced at his watch. “I’ve been waiting for over an hour for you two to show up. I’ve got to drive over to Marfa and see a patient.” He motioned them inside.
Alex and Derek exchanged a glance. His said, I told you so, which he had. After Alex had talked to the youthful doctor on the phone, Derek had told her that Dr. Shelly was a good physician, but he wouldn’t win any congeniality awards.
The instant they were seated, Dr. Shelly launched into his questions.
“Why do you think this woman has TB?” His tone was filled with doubt.
It was a familiar routine for Alex, to defend her diagnosis to a male counterpart. Only today Alex wasn’t in the mood to be polite and accommodating.