“What now?” He directed his question at Dr. Doyle. She clearly seemed like the woman in charge, a woman who had answers, someone who could direct the course of their grief.
“We’d like to do an autopsy,” Dr. Doyle said in her kind but matter-of-fact voice. Kate cursed her silently.
“We’d like to understand why Keith succumbed so quickly to his illness,” Kate explained gently. “All we know right now is that a virus attacked his lungs, causing an infection that we couldn’t control.” Kate squeezed Keith’s mother’s hand before asking her next question. “I know this is a hard time to answer questions, but had Keith had a lung biopsy, by any chance?”
Sharon nodded, lifting her puffy red eyes to Kate’s. “When he was sixteen. A bad bout of pneumonia that just seemed to hang on. Doctors thought it was something else. Sicadosis, I think.”
“Sarcoidosis,” Kate said quietly.
“Yes, that. But he was fine. He’s been so healthy—” Her voice cut off as she choked on the words.
“A post-mortem examination might give us some answers,” Kate said gently.
Sharon Grange reached out to her husband, and they locked eyes. Kate looked away, the nakedness of their pain too much to witness.
“Okay,” said Doug Grange, gripping his wife’s hand. “But soon. I’d like to take our boy home.”
“We’ll arrange transport for later this afternoon,” Dr. Doyle assured them.
Once they were passed into the care of an understanding nurse, Kate sat across from Dr. Doyle, feeling drained. It was barely past ten, but Kate had already spent hours searching uselessly through files, staring at x-rays and blood panels.
As Kate stood to leave, the phone on Dr. Doyle’s desk rang. Just as she reached the door, however, Dr. Doyle called out for her to wait. Kate looked out through the window into the hallways where she could see Andy writing in her notepad, cell phone pressed between her ear and shoulder.
Dr. Doyle hung up the phone. “Dr. Kellar is waiting for you in the morgue.”
“Now?” Kate asked.
“She’d like to begin immediately.”
Kate blinked.
“Dr. Salinger will be in this afternoon with the lab results, so you and Dr. Kellar can update the team then.”
Kate said nothing more, just stepped into the hallway. She gave a one word reply to the questioning glance from Andy. “Morgue.”
Kate could swear she saw Andy flinch.
“Now?” Andy asked, unknowingly echoing Kate’s disbelief from a few moments before.
“Now,” Kate said and started walking towards the stairwell. She wished she had time for another coffee, though she was already on her third.
“I can’t go with you.”
Kate stopped and turned.
“Ferris and I have a conference call with Finns and Superintendent Heath in an hour. I could try to stop by after…”
Kate waved the offer away with her hand, feeling a tension headache starting behind her left eye. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” She kept walking towards the stairs.
“Kate.”
Kate stopped, her hand on the railing, already exhausted at just the thought of four plus hours in the morgue with Mona Kellar. “It’s fine, Andy. Maybe she’ll be better without you there.”
Andy snorted. “Not likely.”
Kate gave a small smile, all she had at that moment. “I can handle it.”
Andy took a step closer and traced a circle across Kate’s arm with her finger. It was the first time Andy had ever touched her scar on purpose, and Kate felt a shiver run up her spine.
“I know,” Andy said. “I just wish you didn’t have to.”
“I know,” Kate repeated softly. “I should go, she’s waiting. See you at the meeting?”
Andy nodded, her grey eyes worried. Kate focused on the stairs in front of her, on the task at hand, not wanting the worry or stress to show on her face. When she faced the dead man’s doctor on her own in just a few minutes, she wanted to be a completely blank slate.
By the time Kate made it down to the morgue, showed her ID, and hastily pulled on her gown and booties, Keith Grange’s body was already out on the table and Dr. Kellar was vibrating with anger. Olivia stood very still, barely looking up when Kate entered the room.
“In future, Dr. Morrison, if we ever have the pleasure of working together again, I expect you to come immediately when called.” Kate tried to ignore the insinuation in the sly grin that followed. “I imagine Ms. Wyles’s rules are similar to my own.”
Kate looked down at her gloved hands, adjusting them over the fitted sleeves of the gown. “My apologies for being late, Dr. Kellar.”
Dr. Kellar switched the overhead microphone on with such force that it swung crazily over their heads for a few minutes before finally settling. Kate felt every muscle in her back, shoulder, and neck tense, waiting for the next insult, the next personal attack.
Hour one went by with no other abuse being hurled across the table, Dr. Kellar taking photos and giving a detailed description of the body. Hour two, as Kate leaned in over Keith Grange’s cold, pale body to look into the chest cavity at his infected lungs, Dr. Kellar merely glared and hovered possessively. Hour three, Kate’s stomach started to growl with hunger and the acid of too much coffee. Dr. Kellar continued her examination, the oral report given in a trance-like monotone which made the whole setting seem vaguely unreal. Hour four, as Dr. Kellar began her final analysis of the dead, taking what was undoubtedly painstaking measures to return each piece of the body with delicate precision, Kate could only begin to dream she would leave this autopsy unscathed.
Dr. Kellar turned off the microphone, stepped back from the table, and began the process of de-gloving and de-gowning. She indicated with a sharp gesture that Olivia should take over, which the young nurse did silently. Kate stood in the exact position she’d maintained for the past four and a half hours, gloved hands by her sides, staring at Keith Grange’s reassembled body.
“Dr. Morrison, I’d like a word before we present our findings to the rest of the team.”
How can such a simple request leave me so cold? Kate wondered as she met Olivia’s sympathetic glance before beginning to remove her own gown and gloves.
Kate followed Dr. Kellar out of the morgue, down two short hallways, then finally into a nondescript, plain office area. Dr. Kellar closed the door, and Kate felt suddenly very trapped. Trapped by the closed door, by Kellar’s intense stare, by Finns’s voice in her head telling her she had to be here. Trapped.
Dr. Kellar opened two folders, pulled out pictures, and arranged them on the table. Despite her rising anxiety, Kate was curious and she began pulling the pictures together, automatically drawing comparisons, finding more similarities than differences.
“Tell me what you see, Dr. Morrison.”
Kate didn’t look up, the purr in Dr. Kellar’s voice warning enough that she needed to be cautious.
“I see two sets of lungs, both of which show signs of pulmonary edema and infection.” She pointed to Roberta Sedlak’s picture first. “I can see where the infection started on this one for sure, but I would guess Keith Grange’s point of infection was here, the site of his lung biopsy from three years ago.”
Dr. Kellar didn’t acknowledge what Kate had said, just folded her hands and stared at Kate across the table. Kate continued to study the pictures until Dr. Kellar swept them away and shoved them back into the folder, forcing Kate to look up at her.
“What do you know about pulmonary edema?” Dr. Kellar said.
Kate didn’t have time to wonder how this woman changed moods so quickly, so mercurially. “At its most basic level, it’s simply fluid accumulated in the lungs.”
“I am not your college-flunky, brain-bashed lover, Dr. Morrison. I expect a complete medical answer when I ask a question.”
Kate took her hands off the table and clasped them in her lap, not wanting to betray the fact that she was shaking with anger.
&
nbsp; “Pulmonary edema is usually a result of cardiogenic factors, clearly not an issue in this case since the heart does not seem to be affected.” Kate waited, knowing somehow that Dr. Kellar would love that Kate had to wait for confirmation before continuing. She did confirm, with a nod, her wild orange hair falling across her forehead. Kate continued. “Next most likely cause is some kind of airway obstruction, aspiration, inhalation of toxic fumes, certain types of medication or, what I believe is the case here, severe infection.”
Dr. Kellar drummed her thick fingers on the table, saying nothing for a moment, probing Kate with her bright, too-interested eyes. Kate couldn’t help squirming under the gaze, unable to stand up to it as she normally would, afraid she would prompt an attack.
“You’re too smart for her, clearly. Though I can understand how she would be a safe foray into the lesbian experience. I wonder at your compatibility, however. You are curious, information-seeking, whereas I imagine Ms. Wyles is wild and somewhat aggressive in bed—”
Kate cut her off, unable to keep the sharp anger out of her voice. “Are we done with the autopsy results?”
“In the meeting this afternoon,” Dr. Kellar said, smiling, “and any future meetings which involve non-medical staff, I expect you to give the layman’s explanation for my results.”
Kate merely nodded, then stood and walked to the door. Dr. Kellar caught Kate’s wrist with her hand, her fingers warm and moist against Kate’s skin.
“She should have been mine, Dr. Morrison. At least once.”
Anger flashed in Kate’s eyes, at Kellar’s presumption, at the way her words and her tone laid possession to what belonged to Kate. With a control Kate didn’t know she had, she pulled her hand out of Mona Kellar’s grasp.
“In future I expect you won’t touch me again, and that you will keep all conversation about medical findings.”
And Kate walked out of the room, desperately seeking a calm that was getting harder and harder to find.
Chapter Eight
Kate stood at the nurse’s station and scanned the information in Serena’s medical chart from the night shift. Serena had just been cleared by Public Health. She did not have the virus that had already taken two lives. Three other Hidden Valley residents—Tessa James, Chase Noonan, and Mary Johnston—were infected, and Public Health was following up. Kate had just been in the meeting where it was confirmed, but the relief she should have felt was noticeably absent.
Maybe it was the morning spent in the morgue, the tension of Dr. Kellar’s presence, the unease of not having told Andy about the implied threat in the forensic pathologist’s words earlier. Or maybe it was the statement by Constable Ferris that they would be tying up loose ends. As of tomorrow, they would no longer be a presence on the team. Or maybe it was the look of concern on Dr. Salinger’s face as he described what little they knew of this still-unidentified viral strain. It seemed to have components from several different viruses, as if it had adapted multiple codes and strands and enzymes to be ready for anything. Without conscious thought, Kate rechecked Serena’s oxygen levels, even knowing it wasn’t possible to identify the potential virus in the numbers, to see if it was hiding behind a serious case of pneumonia.
Kate gave herself a brief mental shake and closed the chart. Her role was clear. When Serena’s parents arrived in the next half hour—after Natalie Cardiff’s daily massage, Lucy had said, rolling her eyes—she was to give the good news to the family, then sign off on her care. She would have no part in the hospital’s outbreak protocol, and she would not be assisting Public Health in finding the source of the infection or educating the public or discussing implications with the media.
Kate walked down the hallway to Serena’s room. As if reading her unsettled mind, three texts from Andy came through on her phone in rapid succession. The first one simply said, “Montana,” the second, “the porch swing,” and the third, “the lake.” Each brought a vivid memory, a sequence of images Kate could lose herself in, even just for a minute.
The Cardiffs had not yet arrived when Kate walked into Serena’s room. A different young man, not Nathan, sat beside a sleeping Serena, holding her hand. He looked to be the same age, with what was obviously a muscled, athletic body under his fitted shirt. He had dark hair, almost the same shade as Serena’s. Kate wondered for a moment if this was a relative, but as she stepped closer and could see more clearly the look he was giving Serena, she changed her mind. Definitely not a relative.
The man looked up at Kate as she approached the bed. He didn’t drop Serena’s hand. In fact, Kate noticed he gripped it tighter.
“Hello,” Kate said quietly, not wanting to wake Serena. “I’m Dr. Morrison.”
“Chris Ozarc,” he said, watching Kate carefully as he gave his name. Kate recognized the name, of course. This must be the reclusive billionaire’s son, the one who was taking a year off from college in the States.
Kate smiled. “Nice to meet you, Chris.”
Chris seemed to relax a little. Whatever reaction he had been expecting from Kate had not materialized. He turned back to Serena.
“How is she?”
Kate heard Dr. Salinger’s voice in her head, clearing Serena of the virus. Swallowing her inexplicable doubt, Kate answered, “She’s going to be fine.”
The relief on Chris’s face was evident. “Do you know when she’s going to be released?”
“No, I don’t. And I can’t release medical information to non-family members,” she told him gently.
Chris didn’t acknowledge this at first, just continued staring at Serena’s pale face, holding her hand tightly in his own.
Kate heard footsteps in the hallway and looked up to see the rest of the Cardiffs entering the room. Michael was in an immaculate tuxedo, his frame somehow heightened by the black suit, making him look absolutely huge. Natalie swept into the room, seemingly unconscious of how beautiful she looked in a long red sequined dress, her hair pinned back in perfect twists. She was pale, though. Kate could see her hand lightly shaking. Julia followed, a tall shadow in jeans and a hoodie, curling herself into the blue chair by the door. Kate caught her eye, gave a quick smile, and was rewarded with a small wave.
“What are you doing here, son?”
Kate looked back to the bed, where an awkward scene was unfolding around a still-sleeping Serena. Cardiff stared at Chris, looking tense but not angry. Mostly Cardiff looked conflicted, Kate decided.
“I heard Serena was in the hospital. I just wanted to see if she was okay,” Chris said. Cardiff stared down at the bed, where Chris was holding his eldest daughter’s hand. Chris followed his gaze, put both his hands in his lap, though he didn’t make any move to rise from his position by the bed.
Natalie looked up at her husband. “I don’t think he should be here, Michael,” she said very quietly.
Chris stood, though he hadn’t been directly addressed.
“I just wanted to see if she was okay,” Chris said again. Without another word, he left the room.
Natalie instantly took his position by her daughter’s bed, smoothing back Serena’s hair from her pale forehead.
“That was rude, Natalie,” Cardiff said to his wife, though without much conviction behind it. Kate kept her eyes down on Serena’s chart, listening.
“I don’t think Serena would want him here,” Natalie said.
Cardiff only sighed in response and turned to Kate. “Dr. Morrison, I hear there’s an update.”
Of course he’s heard, thought Kate. No secrets in Hidden Valley.
“Yes, good news. I can confirm that Serena has bilateral pneumonia, probably one of the worst cases I’ve seen, but she’s a fighter and should recover with no complications.”
Natalie smiled, the first real smile Kate had seen on the woman since meeting her four days ago. It brought life into her face, animated her eyes, and brought colour to her cheeks.
“And what about the rumours of a viral strain of influenza?” Cardiff asked Kate.
Kate made a mental note to talk to Dr. Salinger about educating the public on viruses and influenzas.
“A statement will be released in a few hours to address that,” Kate told him.
Cardiff checked his watch. “A preview, Dr. Morrison. As you can see, we’re heading out for a fundraising dinner, and I’d like that information before I go.”
Kate wanted to laugh at the way he addressed her like she was a secretary or a campaign volunteer.
“I don’t have the statement, Mr. Cardiff. The PR team is working with Public Health on it right now.”
Cardiff’s impatience was evident. “I’m disappointed in you, Dr. Morrison.”
“Why?” Kate asked, trying to keep her amusement in check. Cardiff didn’t seem like someone who would enjoy being laughed at.
“I got the sense that you weren’t someone who always played by the book. You know when it’s beneficial to bend the rules.”
Kate shrugged. He wasn’t too far off the mark, but she still wasn’t going to give him the information he wanted. Kate couldn’t quite figure out why he wanted the information, anyway. She had just told him his daughter was going to be fine. Maybe he just didn’t want to let this idea of a threat go.
“I also rather thought that you would appreciate that rules have recently been bent in your favour,” Cardiff continued.
Kate knew instantly that he was referring to the RCMP protocol, to being allowed to work with Andy on this case. She was searching for a way to respond when she heard Andy’s voice from the door.
“There’s a limo blocking the ambulance bay. I’m going to assume that’s yours?” Andy asked, giving no indication that she’d heard the conversation that had just taken place.
He didn’t acknowledge Andy, but he did address his wife.
“We should go.” He pulled his sleeves smartly down to his wrists, then looked up at his younger daughter, still curled silently in the chair. “You okay, Jules? You sure you want to stay here for the night?” Julia simply nodded. “Okay, we’ll see you in the morning, then.”
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