Intensive Care Crisis

by Karen Kirst

  “Oh, yeah? What were you doing in my boat storage, then?”

  “We’ve attracted the attention of serious criminals who aim to silence us.”

  He grunted. “Likely story.”

  “It’s the truth.” Audrey edged out from behind him. “Don’t you recognize him? He’s the only survivor of the training accident at Camp Lejeune. Sergeant Julian Tan.”

  Squinting at Julian, he jerked a nod. “Read about it in the papers.”

  “I’m a nurse at Onslow General. Julian serves in the same unit as my father. That’s how we met. Oh, and we live in the same apartment complex.”

  “Hmph.” He eyed them with misgiving.

  “Actually, Audrey was my postsurgical nurse. She saved my life when someone tried to kill me.”

  Audrey glanced over at Julian. “And then he saved mine. Multiple times. We’re in a lot of trouble, sir. Will you help us?”

  He lowered the rifle and rubbed a weary hand down his face. “This is too much nonsense for me to make heads or tails of.”

  “Can we at least use your phone to make a call?” Audrey said.

  “If what you say is true, I want no part of it.” He flung a gnarled hand toward the east. “Get off my land before I decide to call the cops.”

  “But—”

  Julian closed his hand over her shoulder. “It’s okay,” he murmured. To the irate farmer, he said, “Which way to the nearest road and gas station?”

  Again, he pointed east. When they were out of earshot, she said, “He didn’t believe us, did he?”

  “We roused him out of a warm bed. He’s grumpy and confused.”

  “Maybe.”

  The disillusion in her voice troubled him. He put his arm around her and pulled her close to his side as they continued to walk.

  “Before you know it, you’ll be back tending to patients and dominating the volleyball court. All of this will be an unpleasant memory.”

  To his surprise, she settled her arm around his waist, linking them further. “I hope you’re right, Sergeant.”

  * * *

  They walked until Audrey thought she couldn’t go on. Every time she opened her mouth to tell Julian, she thought about those hounds and how they could’ve been K-9 dogs trained to take down suspects. She was dirty, thirsty and ravenous. As the sky above lightened to lilac, she contemplated the ground around them, wondering if there were any edible plants that might’ve sprung up early.

  “If you could have any meal right now, what it would be?” she asked.

  A smile eased his somber countenance. “Poke.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “It’s a raw fish salad.”

  “Raw fish? I don’t know.”

  “It’s delicious.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “You should at least try it. The yellowfin tuna is my favorite. I can prepare it for you sometime. Won’t be as good as what you’d get in Hawaii, but you’d get to sample it.”

  “I’d like that.”

  The sun peeked over the horizon, casting a golden pink hue over the flat landscape. She looked over at Julian and was again awestruck by his physical appeal. The impact he had on her went beyond his looks, however. He’d become important to her personally. Precious. Treasured. The depth of her admiration and affection for him had blossomed in a short amount of time, thanks to their unique circumstances. She couldn’t begin to guess how he felt about her. His offer meant he wouldn’t banish her from his life, at least.

  “Your turn,” he said, his gaze roaming her face.

  What did he see? Gerald had claimed her thoughts were easy to read. She wished Julian wasn’t a pro at masking his.

  “I’d have to go with classic lasagna and garlic knots. Garden salad on the side.”

  He nodded. “Italian is a good choice.”

  Because he was looking at her, he didn’t see the cement-block building ahead.

  “Julian.”

  They’d not only reached a road, but there was also a convenience store. They stopped and considered the sight. The paint was faded and peeling, and the sign damaged. A single car was parked on the cracked blacktop.

  His features sharpened. “We have to be convincing. No mention of our actual names or circumstances.”

  “I remember.” They’d discussed it at length. Licking her dry lips, she tried to calm her nerves. “I’m going to duck into the bathroom while you ask to use the phone.”

  “We act suspicious, people get ideas.”

  “Right,” she said. “We act innocent.”

  He cupped her upper arms. “We are innocent.”

  She blew out a measured breath. “I know.”

  “You good?”

  “As long as I don’t come near the slushy machine, I’m good.”

  “I promise to buy you a year’s supply of cherry slushies once this is over.”

  “Poke bowls and slushies. You’re making big promises, Sergeant.”

  “I don’t make promises I don’t keep.” He winked and, leaning in, kissed her forehead.

  She might’ve fainted then and there if he hadn’t taken her hand and led her through the scrubby grass to the store. They entered through a side entrance door. The cashier counter was vacant.

  Warmth washed over her, heating her chilled skin.

  “Coffee,” she murmured, sniffing the air. “Is that bacon I smell?”

  “Patience,” he whispered in her ear, gently prodding her down the first aisle. The sign for the restrooms beckoned.

  A morning news announcement coming from the television affixed above the counter chased thoughts of their plan from her mind. The anchor read off their names as photographs of her and Julian flashed on the screen.

  She swayed.

  Julian’s arm came around her, steadying her. “Nothing has changed.” His voice was low and forceful. “Stick to the plan.”

  She bowed her head and pressed her hand to her middle. The smells that had been tantalizing a minute ago now made her feel ill.

  “Audrey.” There was a clash of urgency, worry and demand in that one word.

  He was depending on her not to fall apart.

  “I’m good.”

  Shrugging off his arm, she squared her shoulders, held her head high and strode to the restroom. Once inside, she let the tears flow.

  * * *

  He didn’t like where this was headed. Not one bit. Dirty cops in league with territorial crime lords equaled major trouble. If he and Audrey didn’t find a safe, discreet place to lay low, it wouldn’t be long before they were recognized.

  Julian casually perused the snacks. The rounded mirror in the corner reflected a skewed image of the four aisles and refrigerated coolers along the back wall. Still no sign of the employee. Striding to the television, he reached up and turned it off. He could only pray that report hadn’t been playing on a loop the entire night.

  A door in the side hall opened and closed, and a woman in her late sixties or early seventies emerged pushing a trolley stacked with boxes.

  At the sight of him, her eyes widened beneath gray-fringed bangs. “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in. You been waitin’ long?”

  “No, ma’am.” He went closer but kept a respectable distance. “Want help with those boxes—” he glanced at her nametag, “Rita? They look heavy.”

  When she got a better look at him—scrapes, bruises and grime—wariness wrinkled her brow. “No, thank you. I may be small, but I’m tough.”

  He lifted his hands, palms up, and stepped back. “I understand. Sorry about my appearance. My girlfriend and I were at a party and were robbed. They took everything. Our wallets. Phones. We’ve been walking for miles.” Gesturing over his shoulder, he said, “I was wondering if I could possibly use the phone to call a friend of mine for a ride.”
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br />   She tilted her head and contemplated him for long, tense seconds. Did she recognize him?

  Finally, she jammed her hands on her hips. “People these days have no respect for hard work. They wanna live the easy life and take what doesn’t belong to them.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s true for some.”

  “Just last week, my grandson’s riding mower was taken from his garage, while he was in the back weedeating. Can you believe that?”

  “Terrible.”

  She peered around. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

  “In the bathroom washing up.”

  Bustling past him, she said, “Come on up and use the phone.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it, ma’am.”

  She extended the receiver across the counter. “You know, you look awfully familiar. You live around here?”

  His heart tripped. “No, ma’am. Near the base.”

  “You’re a marine? My late husband did a four-year stint in the Marines. Dearest Thomas. He was my soul mate.”

  Julian worked to keep his impatience at bay. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Her eyes misted. “I miss him. House ain’t the same without him.” Her gaze shifted beyond his shoulder. “Oh, my dear! Aren’t you a pitiful sight!”

  Turning, he saw Audrey coming up the center aisle. She’d washed her face and hands and finger-combed her long hair, but her makeup-free skin was as white as a fresh blanket of snow. Her blue eyes looked bigger and darker than usual and were full of caution. There was no hiding the scratches on her throat.

  “Um, thank you for the use of your bathroom facilities,” she said, her gaze lingering on Julian.

  “Of course, dear.” The cashier released the phone to his possession and, going around to where Audrey stood, took her hands. “You must be traumatized by your ordeal. Horrible, black-hearted thieves.”

  “Well, I—”

  “I want you to help yourself to a cup of coffee.”

  Her mouth rounded. “Oh, but I don’t have—”

  “Any money? I know. Your fella told me. Come on, let’s get you something to drink. Grab a biscuit, too. The manager lets me take home what we don’t sell, which is usually a sackful.”

  Swallowing the lump in his throat, Julian dialed Brady’s number. He answered on the third ring.

  “Captain Johnson.”

  “Brady, it’s Tan. Listen, a friend and I could use your help.”

  “Is this friend a nurse named Audrey Harris?”

  He’d seen the news. “That’s the one. I’ll explain when you get here.”

  “What all do you need?”

  “Cash. Nonperishable food. A place to crash.”

  “You don’t ask for much, do you?” He sighed. “What’s your location?”

  Julian read the address off the phone. Through the large panes of glass, he saw a truck pull alongside the pumps. A man in overalls emerged and rambled toward the entrance.

  “We’ll be around back. Hurry, Brady.”

  “Will do.”

  The man patted his pockets, did a three-sixty and returned to the truck, probably to retrieve his wallet. A brief reprieve.

  Hurrying over to where Rita was chatting up Audrey, he said, “Sorry to interrupt, but we have to go outside and wait for our friend. He’s in a rush to get to work. Thank you for the use of the phone.”

  “And for the coffee,” Audrey added.

  Rita was stuffing a variety of biscuit sandwiches into a brown paper bag. “I don’t want you two dears to go hungry.”

  Over his shoulder, Julian could see the man in overalls approaching. If he sounded the alarm, they’d have to make a run for it. Their rendezvous with Brady would be toast.

  He tapped his foot and resisted the urge to snatch the bag from her grip.

  Her freckled hands were slowly rolling the paper closed. “Don’t you want a coffee, too?”

  “That’s okay.” Clasping Audrey’s hand, he said, “Audrey doesn’t mind sharing, do you, sweetheart?”

  “Not at all.”

  She handed him the foam cup. He took a sip and pretended to like the bitter brew.

  The door hinges squeaked on the other side of the store. Julian tensed. Audrey sucked in a breath before ducking her head.

  The man clomped down the aisle and headed for the restrooms.

  Thank You, Lord.

  He began edging Audrey toward the exit. “Have a great day, ma’am.”

  She pressed the bag into Audrey’s free hand. “You take care.”

  Once outside, Julian hustled her along the exterior wall and around to the back. He surveyed the area and decided that the best place to hunker down would be behind the oversize garbage container.

  Audrey clutched the bag to her chest. Lines of strain bracketed her mouth. “Is your friend coming?”

  “Yes.”

  Positioned at the container’s edge, he had a clear view of the road. Another vehicle pulled in. They’d timed it just right. He hoped Brady picked them up before Rita realized her television was turned off. Or before a chatty customer filled her in.

  “Does he know we’re in trouble?”

  His grip tightened on the cup. Holding it out to her, he said, “Brady saw the report but agreed to help without knowing the particulars.”

  She sipped the stout brew. Above the rim, he could see the dip between her eyebrows.

  “Captain Johnson is ‘ohana. Family. He’ll do whatever he can for us.”

  “I don’t recognize his name. Is he force recon?”

  “He’s with the 269 Squadron, the Gunrunners. He’s a pilot.” He resumed scanning the road, then said, “Brady was supposed to pilot the bird the day it went down. He was grounded due to a migraine.”

  “I suppose he shares the same misplaced guilt you do.”

  “Maybe.”

  They hadn’t discussed it. Brady had been in a bad head space for a while now, thanks to the unexpected death of his best friend and fellow pilot. The accident had no doubt heaped more stress on him. Julian hadn’t bothered to ask how he was doing because he’d been too inward-focused. Shame bit at him.

  Shaking off the thoughts, he took note of her silence and saw that she was sipping her coffee and staring at nothing.

  “Why don’t you have a seat and eat something?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about everyone I know waking up and seeing the notifications about a dangerous couple on the loose.” Her throat worked. “My bosses and coworkers. My church family. My dad.”

  He framed her face with both hands and gazed down into her tormented eyes. “The people who know and love you won’t believe what the media is saying.”

  Her lower lip trembled, and he longed to caress it. “You were right. I should’ve told my dad from the start. The confusion and worry he must be experiencing right now...” A single tear slipped down her cheek. “The shame and scrutiny. He’s probably getting grilled by the police right this second. He’ll find out what’s been happening at the hospital, and deep inside, he’ll wonder if he misjudged me. He’ll wonder if I got into drugs or—or the wrong crowd...”

  Julian’s heart threatened to split in two. Her sadness weighed on him, made him feel helpless. He put his arms around her and, tucking her head against his chest, held her close.

  “Things will get sorted out. We have the truth on our side.”

  “You promise?”

  In response, he placed a light kiss against her hair. “I’m going to take care of you to the best of my ability, Audrey. I promise you that.”

  He felt her shudder, and her weight rested more fully against him. She was soft curves and silken skin. He would’ve gladly held her all day, but the sound of a rumbling engine approaching reminded him to be on guard.

  Easing away, he shifted closer to the containe
r and recognized the sedan. Relief washed over him.

  “Our ride’s here.”

  When Audrey hung back, he held out his hand. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  “I’m tired, Julian.”

  “We’ll rest soon.”

  “I—I think I—” The bag dropped to the ground, and she sank to her knees.

  Julian sprang to her side in the grass and, one arm supporting her back, took the cup from her grip. “Audrey, talk to me.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Her head went slack, and she fainted in his arms.

  FOURTEEN

  “Does she have any preexisting conditions?”

  “She hasn’t mentioned any.” Someone reverently stroked her hair. “She hasn’t had anything to eat in hours and zero sleep.”

  “That could do it.”

  Concerned male voices roused Audrey. A thick, comfy blanket supported her head, and heat from car vents soothed her chilled skin. Her eyes blinked open, and she realized Julian was her pillow.

  She sat up too quickly, and black dots started dancing in her vision again.

  “Hey.” Julian cupped her nape. “Put your head down and breathe.”

  “I don’t have health issues,” she said, focusing on the reassuring weight of his hand beneath her hair.

  She breathed in and out, filling her lungs with the scents of leather, cologne and male. The driver, whom she’d yet to meet, kept the car at a steady, sedate pace, for which she was thankful.

  “As soon as the dizziness passes, I want you to eat one of those biscuits Rita gave you.”

  “Okay.”

  Julian started tracing patterns on her skin—a definite distraction from her cotton-filled head.

  “Brady, how far out are we?”

  “Twenty minutes. My uncle has a vacant storefront in Jacksonville’s downtown area. There’s a kitchenette and bathroom with shower upstairs. The power’s on, so you’ll have electricity and hot water.”

  “Downtown consists of a couple of streets,” Julian mused. “Not a lot of area to blend in.”

  “It’s the only place I could come up with on short notice. It’s been vacant for almost a year. There are several buildings standing empty. As long as you’re discreet, you should be okay.”