He frowned. "I have a plan for that."
"Sounds like a yes. I don't know if it will help any, but she also throws herself at Dr. Fox. Maybe you can mention him and make her feel guilty about hitting on you. Or if you get really desperate, you could break into his computer account and send her fake love messages from him."
His eyes narrowed. "Is the guy an asshole?"
That was a big flaw in my plan. "Not that I know of."
"Then why would I do that?"
I shrugged. "He handles her attentions pretty well. She has him on a pedestal. A tad different than the way she treats you."
"Thanks, but I think I'm handling it."
That made me curious. If he thought my plan wouldn't work or wasn't advisable, I hated to imagine what he might have come up with.
Radar's cell phone rang as we approached his car.
I waited patiently on the passenger side, but he waved at me, walked over and handed me the phone. "Huntington," he said.
"Hello?"
Huntington talked so fast I could barely understand him.
"What? Dr. Dan?" At first I thought Huntington was complaining about my trip to give Dr. Dan the x-rays, but it was much worse than that. "What do you mean, his head bashed in?"
"Amy called me," Huntington said. "Dan was out walking. We can't take him to the hospital. This attack is bound to be connected. Can you bring the doctor who sewed me up when I was shot?"
"Are you crazy? Is Dr. Dan breathing? Is he able to talk?"
"He's breathing. Erratically. He hasn't been conscious since Amy found him."
"You call 911 this minute," I ordered. "Dr. Taylor is probably working today in the ER, but I can't just kidnap him!" Actually my scruples weren't that high, but by the time I got Dr. Taylor out there, it might be too late. "The ambulance will bring him to the ER, and Dr. Taylor will be the one to treat him when he arrives!"
There were millions of other questions to ask, but I wanted Huntington off the phone and calling 911. I grabbed Radar's arm and ran towards the hospital. "Now, Huntington," I yelled. "You can't expect Dr. Taylor to look at a head injury out in the middle of nowhere. What if it's really serious!!!" It certainly sounded bad.
I tossed the cell phone to Radar and hissed, "We've got to steal the ambulance!"
Radar was running beside me, but came to an abrupt halt, his arm pulling free of my grip.
"Come on," I urged, slowing to look over my shoulder.
"I…my...Steal an ambulance? You can't do that." His head tilted. He was thinking pretty hard, but it wasn't going to do him any good. There was no way to get an ambulance to Dr. Dan by computer, no matter how good Radar was at hacking them. The guy "stole" information all the time, and now borrowing an ambulance was a problem?
"We've got to do this! Dr. Dan is hurt!"
"What's the address?" he asked.
"Country road 24. Dr. Dan lives out there."
"Dan who?"
"Hernandez, come on!"
There wasn't time for twenty questions. I skidded around the corner and in through the emergency room doors. I slowed down and tried to look innocent, but that was hard to do while walking at a slow run and praying.
Just past the exam room, I spotted a white lab coat draped across a chair. Perfect, especially since I had left my volunteer apron upstairs. I kept right on walking, but put the lab coat on under my outdoor coat. The white lab smock hung well below the bottom of my coat.
I hadn’t been to the little break room where the ambulance crew sat, but I knew where it was. Holly had told me the name of one of the guys, but I couldn't remember it. She had also told me he was good looking. As soon as I rounded the corner, I could see for myself that one of the guys was pretty polished.
"Emergency out on country road twenty-four!" My announcement came out in half a pant.
Radar finally wandered in behind me. Even in my harried state, I could see that he looked suspiciously smug.
"I need--" I stopped because I could hear the radio squawking. Huntington had listened to me. Thank God, because these guys didn't look gullible enough to let me drive off in their ambulance. "That's the one," I shouted. "Let's go!"
There were three guys and one lady. Two of them scrambled. The good-looking guy glanced over at me as we ran out the door, but I helped myself to the back of the ambulance anyway. "I know the guy," I said. Maybe they’d assume I had treated the person before.
Thankfully, the ambulance crew hurried. If there had been time to argue with me, they probably wouldn’t have allowed me to hop inside.
The radio inside the ambulance squawked and the driver, the good -looking guy, responded to it while driving.
The guy in the passenger seat looked back at me. He was young, maybe only a few years out of high school. His short-short haircut did nothing to disguise the size of his big hook nose. There wasn't likely to be a hair style that would help hide that nose, but for my money, growing it out like Radar's and draping it over his face had to be a better solution. "We aren't allowed to take passengers," he informed me in a nasal tone.
With a nose that big, he should sound like a clear, beautiful trumpet rather than a cell-phone underwater. "Don't worry, I know the guy, and I got a call before yours came in." I held onto a strap and huddled a on sturdy looking ledge. "I work here." My voice was barely audible over the noise of the sirens.
Hook nose looked very disapproving, but he obviously didn't know what to do about me. I was used to drawn eyebrows and lips twisted in disgust. That's what brothers were for. They trained you to ignore people that looked at you as though you were weird, unhinged or ugly.
Every time the driver turned a corner, the truck swayed and bobbled. The shocks either needed replacing or these vehicles could use some redesign for stability. A person could get injured riding back here. It was no wonder they had to strap patients down. "Can you go any faster?" I asked. Huntington had already wasted enough time. What if…
I didn't want to think about what if.
The driver answered my question. "No, contrary to what everyone believes, we can't drive like lunatics. We have to slow at intersections, and we still have to remain safe. What's the deal with where we are going?"
"Head injury."
"Where exactly do you work?" he asked. "I'm John by the way."
I didn't want to introduce myself. It was far better if they didn't know me or remember my name. "Sedona," I mumbled, hoping he couldn't hear me. "Upstairs," I said louder. My jeans weren’t common wear for most doctors or nurses on duty. It was marginally possible I was an intern of some sort. There was no point in smiling and acting friendly. I was too worried about Dr. Dan and scared that maybe the ambulance driver had called and requested cops at the scene to arrest me.
As we approached Dr. Dan's house, I saw flashes from cop cars in the congestion a few hundred yards up the road. The forest's edge came all the way to the pavement in that spot, leaving little room to park.
I needn't have worried about getting arrested. The ambulance attendants were good at their job; they were all business--theirs, not mine.
I crawled out of the back, and spotted Huntington standing over a prone Dr. Dan. Huntington's shirt was spattered with blood. His call to 911 had unfortunately brought the police, but they looked more interested in Huntington than me. If I was a policeman who knew both of us, I would have zeroed in on Huntington too. It was in his nature to be guilty of something, whereas I prided myself on being an innocent bystander.
Dr. Dan lay unmoving on the ground. Amy sat with a very bloody and limp Rabbit in her lap, tears streaming down her face. The little dog wasn't even whimpering.
"Oh no!" I didn't know where to start. I moved out of the way and watched the dog and Dr. Dan's chest in turn, trying to discern whether or not either was breathing.
"Amy?" I wanted to ask what happened, but she was in no condition to answer. The ambulance attendants got Dr. Dan onto the stretcher. Amy looked around blankly when they moved him.
"Let me take the dog," I said. "You need to go with Dr. Dan." I tugged on Huntington's arm. "Can we take the dog to the vet in your car?" Couldn't he see the dog needed help too?
"I can't leave," he grated out. "These guys want to ask me questions." He glared at me as though it was my fault. Given his bloody shirt, it was obvious why the cops weren't inclined to let him walk off.
"It's good that you called 911. I'm not sure I could have gotten the ambulance guys here on my own," I said.
"I didn't call them. I assumed you did."
"Oh." No wonder Huntington was angry and surprised by the rather hefty response. Radar's smug face came to mind. It hadn't occurred to me to call 911 and report the accident from the hospital, but Radar was into logging things anonymously. I bet he had done it.
I scanned the area and spotted a green jaguar convertible. Since policemen didn't drive such cars to accident scenes, it must belong to Huntington. "Can I have the keys? I need to get Rabbit to the vet."
His eyes shut. He took a deep breath, but he reached in his pocket. The policeman next to him kept his hand on his gun. I skimmed over the faces, but didn't see Derrick or Adrian, the only two policemen I knew on the force. One of them could show up at any time so the faster I moved, the better.
A little lady I didn't recognize ran toward us from up the road. Like Amy, she was probably in her sixties, but she carried a bit more weight, and she ran with a slight limp. Her hair was in disarray and instead of neat brown curls, hers were gray, black and yellow-white. She was dressed in a purple sweatshirt with a giant white cat embroidered across the front.
"I've got a towel!" She waved a large blue cotton bath towel. "Here we go."
John helped Amy climb in the back of the ambulance next to Dr. Dan. Dr. Dan looked awful, his head nearly covered with blood. He had not done any moving on his own.
I transferred poor Rabbit to the towel. The little poodle squirmed slightly and licked my fingers once.
"Okay, I've got him," the lady said. "Henry has Pooh up at the house, and he's bringing the van. We'll get Rabbit taken care of." She called this reassurance into the back of the ambulance as the doors slammed closed. She sprinted away toward a dark blue van that was pulling out of a driveway a few yards up the road.
Huntington held his hand out for the keys. Instead of returning them, I asked, "Do you think I could take your car back to the hospital? I..." I didn't want to say that I wanted to keep an eye on Dr. Dan in front of the policemen so I trailed off into silence.
Huntington snapped his teeth on his reply. "Fine."
There was no point in giving him any additional time to think about it or consider how he would get home without the Jag.
I hurriedly stowed myself inside and pulled away.
Ambulance rides might be smoother if they were all sports cars instead of giant vans, but I wouldn't mention that to the drivers. In fact, it would be better if the ambulance drivers never saw me again. Hopefully they would forget I existed.
Chapter 20
If not for a couple of red lights, I would have beaten the ambulance back. Half the police were at Dr. Dan's so I was generous when stepping on the gas.
I parked, took off the lab coat and ran inside, my heart beating fast more from worry than exertion. Surely Dr. Dan would be okay.
To my dismay, Dr. Taylor, the ER physician, spotted me as I draped the borrowed lab coat back across the chair. I froze, trying to decide whether to run away or ask him about Dr. Dan. He stared at me with a puzzled expression, but no doubt due to examining an "attacked" patient, he placed me quickly. "You!" He pointed his finger straight at me and then curled it into a "get over here" message.
I was already pointed in that direction anyway. "Is he okay?"
"How is it I managed to forget where I knew you?" He steered me inside one of the empty ER partitions. There was no real privacy. "Do you want to explain what is going on? This had better not have anything to do with that friend of yours who was working on something around here."
"I think it does," I said, making hushing motions with my hands. "Is he--" I had to force the words out around a throat that didn't want to work right. "Is he going to be okay?"
He shook my arm. "I'm shipping him out. I've ordered an MRI, but it doesn't look as encouraging as I'd like. I could probably admit him. Is there any reason I should let him be treated here?"
"Oh no. Probably not a good idea." Dr. Dan had been the one who hired Huntington in the first place, and with me talking to him about the case recently…he had mentioned wanting to ask some questions. But I had talked him out of that, hadn't I? "Oh Lord," I muttered. Dr. Taylor glared at me one last time and then stalked into the next partition. Since he hadn't said I couldn't, I followed.
I swallowed hard when I caught sight of Dr. Dan on the bed. His head was now swathed in bandages, IV lines ran from his arm, and a monitor for his heart or his head was by his side. If his wife, Amy, hadn't been holding his hand and talking softly, I wouldn't have recognized Dr. Dan at all.
It was almost worse seeing him in bandages than lying on the ground all bloody.
"Amy?" I said tentatively, wondering if she would rail at me and send me away.
She didn't respond except to continue crying. I put my arm around her, carefully keeping myself out of the way. "Dr. Taylor said they will send Dan to another hospital. It's a good idea." I wanted to convey that Dr. Taylor was one of the good ones, and that everything else would be okay, but I didn't know all of that, especially the last part.
Amy rubbed at her cheeks without removing her little round glasses. "He was out walking the dogs after we ate lunch. Pooh came back barking like crazy without Rabbit. I knew something was wrong." Her hand clutched mine, and her whole body shook. "I found him just lying there!"
"Did you see anyone?"
She shook her head. "I called Steve and then Marge, my neighbor. Rabbit--" she sucked in much needed air and tried again. "Rabbit was hurt too," she sobbed quietly.
"I know." My own eyes teared. That wasn't supposed to happen. In training we had been instructed to keep our composure at all times.
"She's a fierce little thing, you know. She must have tried to help and whoever did this--" Her hand clutched hard. "Her head looks just like his."
"Your neighbor took Rabbit to the vet," I said.
Amy nodded. She gallantly tried to regain control, holding her fist against her mouth.
"While Dr. Dan is getting ready to fly out, let me go get an update on Rabbit for you." My mouth was dry, my heart was hollow, and if I didn't get away from this room, I was going to burst into tears.
Amy told me where she thought Rabbit would be taken.
I hurried out to one of the phones in the ER break room. My own fingers shook as I called.
The news wasn't horrible, but it wasn't great either. "Mostly a large cut on her scalp that we sewed back together. Her leg is badly bruised, probably from being kicked. The bruised leg seems to be what kept her still, and that's a good thing."
"Will she pull through?"
The lady on the other end hesitated. "She is licking hands and responding well. Hopefully there won't be any long term damage."
To my dismay, as I finished the call and made my way back through the ER, Huntington came through the doors from the waiting room. He spotted me. The muscles in his jaw spasmed at least twice. He had changed clothes, but his black hair was out of place from the wind. He wasted no time confronting me. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"
"Yes, but let me update Amy first. She's in with Dr. Dan."
"How is he?"
"I--they're shipping him out." I turned and hurried behind the partition. I gave Amy the report on Rabbit. "You'll be flying with your husband. Do you need me to pack clothes? What about Pooh?"
"Marge will take care of it. She already has Pooh, and they have a key. I'll have them send anything I need."
I didn't ask what hospital Dr. Taylor had recommended. I assumed it would be one of the Mayo Clini
cs or one that Dr. Taylor trusted. I grabbed a piece of paper from a drawer and wrote my name and phone number. "Call me and let me know how to get in touch with you. And if there is anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to call. I can pick up Rabbit when she's better or take care of Pooh."
"Thank you. You can call my cell. I can't guarantee I'll answer, but I'll talk to you when I can." She rattled off a number.
I wasn't ready to deal with Huntington, but I knew he was waiting. The server room in the basement was the only place that would be deserted. No one except Radar was ever in there, and he should get the update anyway. As I steered Huntington to the basement level, I asked worriedly, "Where's Mark?"
Huntington replied, "I called him so he knows what is going on. It's best if not too many people look interested." In other words, as usual, Mark wouldn't come into the hospital unless he had some sort of cover.
Radar was surprised to see me and even more surprised when he saw who followed me in.
Huntington didn't start berating me about Dr. Dan, but then, I hadn't mentioned my last trip out there. I started with what Amy had told me. "Dr. Dan was out walking the dogs, like he does every day. Amy didn't see anyone. All she knows is only one of the dogs came back. She knew right away something was wrong and went to check on him."
I took a deep breath. "It's a head trauma, and they are going to send him to a larger hospital."
"Because it's bad or because we can't let him stay here?" Radar asked.
"I think more the latter, but I'm really not sure. Dr. Taylor asked if this had anything to do with the investigation. I think he was already considering sending Dan out anyway."
Huntington nodded sharply. "If anyone else asks, it was a bad head trauma, and Dr. Taylor wanted him out of here because his chances weren't looking good, period."
I winced and prayed that it would turn out to be entirely a cover story. "I guess we should tell his wife not to give too many updates."
3 Executive Sick Days Page 14