Code Blue

by Janet Lane-Walters

  Susan gave report on the two post-ops and the pair of admissions. Julie mentioned a new patient.

  "Grace, if you have time, talk to Mrs. Levy, Room 512. Maybe she'll respond to a little TLC from the supervisor." She reached for the remainder of the charts.

  A short time later, Tina came to the desk. "Could you help me with Mrs. Price?"

  "Be glad to."

  When Susan returned to the desk, Kit was gone. Julie and De Witt stood at the doctors' desk. The younger nurse stood with her hands on her hips.

  "Didn't you get my message?" Julie asked. "I thought I was perfectly clear."

  "Don't act like this." De Witt smoothed his ash blond hair and picked up a black leather jacket. "Meet me at the Oasis when you get off. We'll talk."

  "No."

  "Then come to the lounge."

  "I'm really too busy right now and I have nothing to say to you."

  "If you want, I'll meet you in the parking lot. You can drive and bring me back for my car."

  "I'm not going anywhere with you." Julie bolted from the station and dashed into one of the patient rooms.

  De Witt paused in front of the small kitchen where nourishments were kept. "Eleven thirty at the Oasis. Be there."

  Susan reached for the last chart. After signing the order sheet, she went to help with evening care. At nine fifteen, she entered the med room and leaned against the door.

  "My sentiments exactly. Want to stop at the diner after work?"

  Susan shook her head. "Patrick will be waiting for me."

  "That's a switch. I take it you're an item."

  "We're exploring the possibilities."

  "That's great. I really liked him." Julie pushed her med cart to the door. "See you later."

  There was no time to talk before the night nurses arrived. Susan had just reached for the care plan book when Kit announced a patient with a hip fracture was on the way.

  The night nurse groaned. "Can you show me how to set up Buck's traction?" She glanced at the other night nurse. "Mavis won't help me. She thinks I'm dumb."

  Susan saw a glimmer of tears in Amy's eyes. "After report." She opened the care plan book.

  A short time later, Susan and Amy walked toward the storage room. Julie joined them. "Am I ever glad this evening is over," she said. "Maybe we can talk on the way to the parking lot."

  "I'm giving Amy a hand."

  "I'll wait."

  Amy entered the storage room hall. "Be with you in a few."

  Susan breathed a sigh of relief. "Saved again. I haven't been in there since I found Barbara's body. You don't have to wait. I'll grab a security guard."

  "There are a couple of things I want to ask you and I'm off tomorrow."

  "Lucky you." Susan looked up. De Witt strode down the hall.

  Julie gasped and backed away. He grabbed her arm. "I said we need to talk." De Witt's voice was harsh. "I know the rumors upset you, but they're absolutely false."

  "That's not the reason. I broke off before I heard about you and Trish."

  "Don't trash what we have. I'm depending on you."

  Julie nodded. "Are you afraid of what I might say? Don't worry. Just leave me alone." She pulled away and ran toward the locker room.

  Susan felt torn. She had promised to help Amy, but she didn't like De Witt's mood. She moved into the storage room hall. What had Julie meant? "Amy, I've got to go."

  "Just five minutes, please?"

  * * *

  Like the fingers on a multitude of hands, streamers of fog drifted from the cemetery toward the hospital parking lot. The lights set around the perimeter resembled shadow suns. He crouched beside the steps and waited for the evening nurses to finish their shift.

  Since Mommy protected Susan, Julie was his target tonight. She never waited for the other nurses or the security guard. He had often seen her dash across the street alone. A grin contorted his mouth.

  He thrust his hand in the pocket of his black jacket and touched the weight. Then he peered into the billowing fog. Time crept. He counted to one hundred and checked his watch again. The chill of the December night reached his bones. His heart raced. He forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly.

  Loud voices startled him. He edged toward the chain. A group of nurses started up the steps. They moved in and out of the haze. Had he missed Julie? She was usually the first to arrive.

  Cars left the parking lot. Susan's remained. So did several others. Which one was Julie's? Had she left? Four women emerged from the fog and paused directly in front of him.

  "Are Julie and Susan coming to the diner?"

  "I doubt it. De Witt ordered her to meet him at the Oasis and Susan never joins us."

  "Julie said she wasn't meeting him. His car's still in the doctor's lot. You know, I don't blame her for seeing him. Imagine going places in a Jag."

  "Dream on. He's only interested in RN's."

  Moments later, four cars left the lot. Three remained. He crossed the chain and stood on the steps. The sound of shoes tapping on the concrete alerted him. He drew the weight from his pocket. He had to be ready for her. Julie appeared on the step below him.

  The instant she reached him, he grabbed her. His left forearm tightened across her throat. For someone so slender, her strength surprised him. She twisted and kicked at his shins. Her elbow rammed into his gut. He caught her flailing arm with one hand and raised the weight.

  She pulled free. Her eyes widened. "You!"

  He lunged and struck a glancing blow with the weight. She pushed him away. He grabbed her. Her teeth clamped on his hand and the weight clattered on the steps.

  "Help!" she cried.

  * * *

  As Susan hurried down the hall, she could barely control her fear for Julie. When the younger nurse had refused De Witt's demand for a meeting, his eyes had flashed with anger. Why hadn't Julie waited in the locker room? Where had the girl gone?

  Susan ran past the deserted security desk and stepped outside. Fog blurred her view of the parking lot. She stared at the billowing grayness. Had someone shouted? Like a bubbling cauldron, patches of fog twisted and churned. She gasped.

  On the steps across the street, she saw a struggling couple. One of them wore a black jacket.

  Fog shrouded the struggle. Susan pushed open the ER doors. "Help! Across the street. Someone's being attacked," she yelled to the guard who strolled down the hall. She let the door bang closed and ran across the street. The fog lifted. She saw Julie and her attacker. The man had light hair. De Witt, Susan thought. "Help!" she cried again and started up the steps.

  * * *

  "Help!" The cry from the street penetrated his concentration. He pushed Julie away. She fell and her head hit the steps. He bellowed his rage.

  "Stop! Would someone help?"

  Susan. What was she doing here? Mommy protected Susan. She mustn't see him. She was like Mommy and she would tell everyone how bad he was.

  Panic froze him. He stared at Julie. She was dead. She had to be. The weight. Where was it? He searched the steps. Everything was falling apart. He jumped and leaped over the chain.

  * * *

  A man's voice rose in an angry roar. Susan ran up the steps. By the time she reached Julie, the mugger had vanished. Susan knelt beside the younger nurse. "Julie, Julie, are you all right?" A strong pulse beat against her fingers.

  Julie groaned. Her eyelids fluttered open. "He...he..." Her blue eyes were unfocused. She sighed and closed her eyes.

  "Julie, Julie." This time Susan's cries brought no response. "Would someone help?" she shouted.

  While she waited for an answer, Susan unbuttoned her coat and searched her uniform pocket for her penlight. She shone the beam into the younger woman's eyes. "Does anyone hear me?" Julie needed help but Susan feared leaving. The attacker might return.

  "What's wrong?" A man's voice cut through the fog.

  "I need help. There's been another mugging."

  Moments later, a figure appeared at the bottom of the steps
. When she realized his hair was as dark as his jacket, Susan swallowed her scream.

  "What did you say?"

  "There's been another attack. I interrupted it. Get a stretcher. She's hurt, I'm not sure how badly."

  "Hang on, I'll be right back."

  Susan noticed the way Julie's left leg was bent beneath her. Until help arrived, the younger nurse couldn't be moved. Susan slipped her hands under Julie's head and felt a large hematoma.

  Two security guards and a nurse from the ER arrived. They moved Julie on a lift board and carried her down the steps to the gurney.

  "What happened?" one of the guards asked. "How did she fall?"

  "She was attacked. I saw her struggling with a man."

  "Thought you nurses were supposed to wait for an escort?" A belligerent tone entered his voice. "Are you sure you didn't imagine the attack? Visibility's not too good what with the fog and all."

  "There was a man. I yelled and ran across the street. He pushed her and ran into the cemetery."

  The ER doors opened. Susan and the ER nurse pushed the gurney into a treatment room. Mary Brady, a friend of Susan's, followed them. "What happened?"

  Susan related the event she'd witnessed. "She must have hit her head on one of the steps. There's a hematoma on the right occipital area. For a few seconds, she responded and then lapsed into unconsciousness." She gulped a breath. "Pupils are equal and sluggish. There's a possible fracture of the left tib/fib."

  While Susan spoke, the ER doctor completed his exam. "Start an IV, routine labs, X-ray skull, cervical spine and left leg. Ortho and neuro consults, stat."

  Mary caught Susan's hand. "Why don't you wait outside? I'll let you know what we find. She'll be fine."

  "I'll call her parents. You'll need consents." Susan stopped at the desk and dialed Julie's home number. After six rings, a sleepy voice answered.

  "Mrs. Gilbert, it's Susan Randall. Julie's had an accident and she's in the Emergency Room...not her car. She hit her head on the steps in the parking lot...I'll stay until you arrive." And when they did, she would tell them what had happened. She opened the door and stepped into the hall. A policeman sat on the edge of the security desk.

  "There she is," the security guard said. "She's the one who found her."

  The officer opened a notebook and motioned to Susan. "Tell me about the attack you thought you witnessed. Start with your name, address and phone number."

  The tone of his voice made Susan wonder if he was skeptical about the attack. What had the security guard said? His absence from the desk was responsible for Julie's danger, but so was the younger nurse's impulsive nature. Susan stated her name and then recounted the scene she'd witnessed.

  "Did you get a look at the assailant?"

  "I didn't see his face. He was taller than Julie. He had light hair and wore a black jacket. He--" She stopped. Before she accused De Witt, she needed proof. Right now, Julie was the only one who could identify her attacker.

  The officer placed a gray metal object on the desk. "Any idea what this is?"

  "A traction weight."

  "Any idea why your friend was carrying it?"

  Susan frowned. "It's not something you'd drop in your pocket and forget."

  "Would make a great weapon." The officer nodded. "Maybe your friend can tell us."

  "She's unconscious," Susan said.

  "Any connection between her and the other nurses who were attacked?"

  "She worked with Mrs. Denton and Ms. Vernon was our supervisor."

  "Think she'd know anything about their deaths? Maybe who killed them?"

  Susan shook her head. "She knew as much as any of us."

  "What about common enemies? Maybe some patient who had a grudge?"

  "Not that I can think of." She frowned. De Witt was the only person she could think of who had a connection to the three women.

  "Guess that's all for now." The officer turned to the guard. "Have someone call the station as soon as the nurse is able to talk." He tapped his notebook. "Your statement will be ready Friday if you want to read it. If you think of anything else, call." He strode to the door.

  His words reminded Susan that she hadn't called about Barbara's bracelet--or Leila's watch. She needed to tell someone. Not Patrick. He would overreact.

  She walked to the machines for a cup of coffee. Then she carried the steaming liquid to the waiting room.

  At midnight, Patrick opened the front door and checked for Susan's car. Late again. He stared toward her side of the house and wondered how she'd react if she came home and found him in her living room. He shook his head. Though they had gone beyond friendship, she wasn't ready for total togetherness.

  To let her know he was still awake, he switched on all the downstairs lights. He turned on the television and stretched out on the couch.

  When the mantle clock struck two, he sat up and looked around in confusion. He hadn't meant to sleep.

  Susan, he thought. He must have missed her. Then he saw the porch light through the curtained windows. Where was she? Had she gone to the diner with Julie? Even so, she should be home. He opened the door and saw an empty space where her car usually sat.

  For several minutes, he allowed the winter air to chill the heat of his panic. After closing the door, he walked to the kitchen and snapped on the radio and picked up the coffeepot.

  The announcer's first item sent chills down his spine. "A third mugging at Bradley Memorial Hospital has left a nurse in critical condition. Her name is being withheld pending notification of her family."

  Coffee filled the mug and flowed over the counter. Were they talking about Susan? Was that why she hadn't come home? Should he call the hospital? He pulled on his jacket and headed for the door. Phone reports from any hospital were always less than satisfactory.

  As he started down the steps, headlights shone down the driveway. Relief flooded his senses. He was at the driver's door before Susan opened it. Once he had her in his arms, he kissed her, hard and demanding. "Don't ever do this to me again."

  "What are you talking about?" she asked.

  "I fell asleep and woke to find you weren't home. When I heard about the mugging, I was afraid you were the victim. Who was it?"

  Susan pressed her face against his jacket. "Julie. I interrupted the attack and stayed until her parents arrived and learned she was responding. She was admitted to ICU."

  "Why didn't you call? Didn't you realize I'd be frantic?" He couldn't keep fear and anger from his voice. When she stiffened, he regretted the questions.

  "I didn't think of anything but Julie. She was unconscious when I found her. If I'd been a few minutes earlier, he wouldn't have grabbed her."

  "You could have been killed."

  She shook her head. "If there had been two of us, it wouldn't have happened."

  "Don't blame yourself."

  "I'm not." She shivered. "Let's go inside before I freeze." She pulled him to the steps. "I'm drained. Even before the attack, the evening was a horror." She opened the door and turned on the lights.

  Patrick closed the door. He turned Susan to face him. "Is she all right?"

  "So far." Susan slumped on the couch. "A concussion with loss of consciousness and a fractured leg." She rubbed her arms with her hands. "When I left, they said she was responding to treatment." She put her hands to her face. "Pat answers. I'll never use them again."

  Patrick walked to the bar and filled a snifter with brandy. "Did they catch the attacker?"

  "By the time help arrived, he was gone." Her voice rose in pitch. "De Witt tried to force Julie to go out with him." She accepted the snifter and sipped. "If Amy hadn't needed help, I would have left with Julie. I ran to catch up with her. The security guard wasn't at the desk. I saw her fighting with a man. I screamed and ran to help her."

  Patrick organized her narrative into logical order. He joined her on the couch. "You're brave and wonderful. You must have been terrified."

  "I was too angry to be scared."

&
nbsp; "Did you get a good look at the man?"

  She shook her head. "Taller than Julie. Light hair. Black jacket. That's all I saw."

  He looked at her. "But you have suspicions?"

  "In a way."

  Patrick pulled her into his arms. "Tell the police what you suspect. If he's capable of harming Julie, what do you think he'd do if he knew you suspected him?"

  "If I tell them, he'll know I did. I'm sure he has an alibi. Without proof, what can the police do?"

  "I don't know. Why do you think he's the mugger, other than his physical description?"

  Susan closed her eyes. "Julie said Barbara tried to blackmail him. Leila knew why Joe Barclay wasn't offering him a partnership. He wanted Julie to alibi him for something. I'm almost sure he gave Trish prescriptions and she tried to kill herself."

  Patrick straightened. "You have to tell Greg. Tell him everything you know or suspect."

  "I have to talk to Trish and Julie first."

  "Tomorrow, first thing, you call Greg." He took her silence for agreement. "What's wrong with a doctor writing prescriptions?"

  "Because she's addicted. If he's her supplier--" She exhaled. "I would have had proof if the evening hadn't been so hectic."

  Patrick grasped her hand. "Tell the police."

  "Of course."

  He tightened his grip. She was in danger. How could he protect her if she refused his help? "Please be careful."

  "I will."

  He stroked her throat with his thumbs. His tongue traced her lips. "Let's talk about this upstairs." He pulled her to her feet.

  Instead of eagerness he felt her hesitate. "This is happening all too fast," she said.

  He kissed her forehead. "I love you. Are you sure you want to be alone tonight?"

  Her smile heated his desire. "Maybe not."

  Chapter 11

  Susan crushed the front page of the newspaper and tossed it at the wastebasket. "Local Nurses Decimated." The latest news headline imitated a supermarket tabloid. Instead of producing a chuckle, this aping made her angry.