Resuscitation

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Resuscitation Page 13

by D. M. Annechino

“Sorry, Doctor, I must have dozed off.” She searched his eyes for a hint of what he might say, but they offered no clues.

  “The bypass went even better than I anticipated. Your mom came through the surgery aces.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. I…I can’t thank you enough.” Sami squeezed her eyes shut and tears ran down her face. Her mind flooded with memories of the extremes in her relationship with her mom. There were good times and bad, conflict and harmony, trepidations and words of support. Their relationship had been the proverbial roller-coaster ride—most of the time racing along dangerous curves. She had no delusions about their compatibility. But she hoped that however many years her mom had left, they could form an allegiance and build a strong, loving mother-daughter connection.

  Doctor Templeton draped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a side hug. “Those are happy tears, right?”

  Sami nodded. “When can I see her?”

  “She’s going to be in recovery for a while. When she wakes up, they’ll move her to the ICU. She’s likely going to be unconscious for an hour or so, and even when she comes out of it, expect her to be groggy for another twenty-four hours.” Doctor Templeton hesitated for a moment, his lips tensed to a thin line. “The next couple weeks are going to be tough. Your mother is going to experience both physical and psychological challenges. I’ll prescribe some pain pills and a sedative to relax her. Just don’t be alarmed if her behavior is out of sorts. It’s perfectly normal. I’ll have someone come and get you as soon as she comes out of the anesthesia.”

  As inappropriate as it would be, Sami almost laughed at the doctor’s comment about her mother’s behavior being out of sorts. What Doctor Templeton hadn’t yet discovered was that her mother’s behavior was always out of sorts.

  “I keep saying ‘thank you’ because I don’t know what else to say, but thank you again.”

  He offered his hand. “It’s been my pleasure, Ms. Rizzo. Hope we meet again under less stressful circumstances.”

  “Aleta,” Al whispered, his mouth almost touching her ear. “It’s Alberto.” Only his sister and Sami’s mother called him by his given name. “Please open your eyes.”

  Although Aleta remained unconscious, the doctor cautioned Al to be careful what he said in front of her, warning him that people in a coma can generally hear very well. They can’t necessarily react to what they hear, but every word is comprehensible.

  As Al stood over his sister, shocked by her black and blue eyes, severely bruised forehead, and swollen nose, what struck him most were the plastic tubes invading her body. She looked like a subject in some sick experiment. He stepped out in the hall, out of earshot, where the doctor waited for him.

  “Be straight with me, Doctor. What are her chances?” Al asked.

  The young Brazilian doctor spoke perfect English but with a thick Portuguese accent. “It is not looking so good,” Doctor Souza said. “The longer she remains in a coma, the more concerned I become. But try not to despair. Although her brain is swollen from the impact of the collision, her brain activity is still strong, and the MRI did not reveal extensive brain damage.”

  “Then why is she in a coma?” Al asked.

  “It’s the swelling of her brain, Mr. Diaz, causing intracranial pressure. We are administering medications that I hope will reduce the swelling, but until they do, she will likely remain comatose.”

  “Not to insult you, Doctor, but are there other hospitals better equipped to deal with her condition?”

  “I assure you, Mr. Diaz, we are doing everything possible to treat your sister with the most medically advanced techniques.”

  The doctor left and Al bolted out the door a few steps behind him, and headed for the exit. He didn’t want to leave his sister’s side, even for a moment, but he needed some fresh air, some time to absorb everything the doctor said. When he stepped outside, the brisk autumn air gave him a chill. When he’d left San Diego, the temperature flirted with eighty degrees.

  Al leaned against the cold concrete wall and inhaled the refreshing air. He was ready to scoot back to his sister’s room when his cell phone rang.

  “Hi, Sami,” Al said. “Good news?”

  “Mom went through the surgery with flying colors.”

  “Fantastic.”

  “What’s the latest with Aleta?”

  “Nothing’s changed. She looks terrible—like someone beat her with a lead pipe. It’s really tough to see her this way.”

  “Stay there as long as you like. But just be sure to touch base and keep me posted.”

  “I promise.”

  “Captain Davidson must be having a coronary,” she said.

  “He wasn’t overjoyed when I left. And he’s already called me twice.”

  “So he told you?”

  “Told me what?”

  “There’s been another homicide. According to the news, it looks like the same MO.”

  “Fuck,” Al said. “Now the captain’s really going to give me shit.”

  “You need to be with your sister. No matter what. Besides, everything’s been cleared through HR.”

  “I realize that. And you realize that. But the captain is a whole ’nother story.”

  “Family first, Love.”

  Sami could hear Al breathing heavily into the cell phone. Burdening him with more to think about was the last thing she wanted, but she felt so conflicted and confused, she just couldn’t help herself.

  “I realize your plate’s full right now, and I hate to give you even more shit to deal with, but I really have to run something by you before my head explodes.”

  “Sounds serious.”

  Sami wasn’t quite sure how to deliver this announcement in a gentle fashion, so she got right to the point. “You’re going to think I’m some unstable dingbat, but I’ve been thinking about approaching Captain Davidson and Chief Larson to see if it’s possible for me to get reinstated.”

  “Reinstated?”

  “Considering what’s going on right now, my timing might be perfect.”

  “But how about school and social work?

  “I’m bored to death with school, and the whole social-worker gig just isn’t what I expected. To make it in that world, you have to get your master’s degree, and I understood that going in. But now that I’ve got two years invested in school, there’s no way I can sit in a classroom for another couple years.”

  “But Sami, after your ordeal with Simon, I thought you’d had it with detective work.”

  “So did I. But times change. Circumstances change. I guess detective work is more in my blood than I thought.”

  “Well, Sami, you just knocked the piss right out of me. But, if you’ve really thought this through carefully, and this is what you want, hey, you have my total support.”

  “Thank you. How do you think the captain and chief will respond?”

  “To be honest, with the current hiring freeze and restricted budget, I think you’re facing an uphill battle.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time I tangled asses with the two of them.”

  “And it likely won’t be the last.” Al paused. “I hate to cut you short, but I’ve got to get back to my sister’s room. Tell your mom she’s in my thoughts. And give her a kiss for me.”

  “I will. If anything changes with Aleta, call me right away—no matter what time.”

  “Good luck with Davidson and Larson.”

  “I’m going to need more than luck.”

  The medical experiments Julian had conducted on Connor did not yield sufficient evidence to support his research conclusions. In fact, they hadn’t produced one piece of evidence to uphold his theories about new surgical treatments for the cure or control of atrial fibrillation. At first, when Julian discovered that Connor suffered from an arrhythmia, he couldn’t believe it. Considering that only about three percent of the population suffers from A-Fib, and the majority are over sixty years old, what were the chances that he would randomly meet someone with this condition—particularly
a man so young? Julian had made some incorrect medical judgments that cut his experiments short. Now faced with a profound feeling of guilt—oh, how Connor had suffered—he had to remove all distractions and moral arguments and look at the big picture.

  The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

  He had thought long and hard about how he could cut the connection between his laboratory experiments and the research he performed on live subjects, how to sidetrack the police. The solution was so obvious; he couldn’t believe he’d overlooked it. It was a simple strategy: divert attention away from surgical procedures on hearts by performing mock procedures on other organs.

  Such a simple concept, yet utterly brilliant.

  Now Julian could focus all of his attention on the only issue that mattered. If he could support his theories through controlled studies and develop a new surgical procedure that far surpassed catheter ablation and the three Maze procedures, Julian would likely see his photo on the cover of every medical publication in the world. Not to mention that he would gain the respect of the entire medical community, the recognition he urgently longed for. And if he was painstakingly careful with the data, no one would ever know that he’d gathered it from live subjects.

  Having conducted his research on two subjects, a renewed urgency rose in him, an uncontrollable desire to continue with his experiments. He had to get past Genevieve and Connor and press on. But he did not have the luxury to come and go as he pleased. His family had now become his most formidable roadblock.

  He could only conduct his research on live subjects when his family was out of the picture. After all, he couldn’t just vanish for several days without a credible explanation. As a cardiologist, his work often required that he travel and attend conferences. But how often could he use this excuse without his wife getting suspicious? Once or twice a month, Nicole drove the kids to Los Angeles to spend a weekend with her parents, but they had just returned from a visit, so Julian didn’t expect them to make another trip soon. For him to complete his research and meet the six-month deadline GAFF had given him, he had to find a way around this logistical problem. Even if it required drastic measures.

  Feeling as if she were returning from a short vacation, Sami walked into the precinct and the only face she recognized belonged to veteran homicide investigator Chuck D’Angelo. The precinct hummed with activity, detectives as well as support staff buzzing around. Out of pure courtesy, she thought about approaching D’Angelo, even though she couldn’t stand the guy, but he looked busy talking to a young man she had never seen before. Likely a newbie, she guessed. Maybe her replacement?

  Sami made her way over to what used to be her desk. Whoever sat there was nowhere in sight. She had never seen the desk so neat and orderly, unlike when she had occupied this space. She was overwhelmingly tempted to sit in the chair just to see how it felt, but Captain Davidson just happened to pop his head out of his office, yelling for D’Angelo, and he fixed his gaze on her.

  Davidson marched over to Sami and extended his hand. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

  She grasped his hand and pumped his arm. “You’re looking well, Captain.”

  “That’s good, ’cause I feel like shit. Blood pressure’s through the roof.” He motioned to D’Angelo.

  “I’m a bit early,” she said, “so I’ll wait until you’re free.”

  The captain displayed a rare smile. “Shouldn’t take more than five minutes for me to nibble on his ass.”

  “Nice to see that some things never change,” Sami said with a big grin.

  “And some never will. Make yourself comfortable.”

  D’Angelo didn’t say a word, but waved and smiled at her as he followed the captain, looking like a kid on his way to the principal’s office. Oh, how she remembered those closed-door thrashings. Not able to resist it any longer, she plopped down on her old chair. Whoever sat here, she thought, must be a tall one. Her toes barely touched the floor.

  Preoccupied with her old desk and the familiar surroundings, she hadn’t noticed the man standing to her side.

  “Sami Rizzo?” the young man said.

  “In the flesh. And you are?”

  “Detective Osbourn. Call me Richard.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Richard.”

  He folded his arms and leaned against the desk. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Ms. Rizzo.”

  “My mother is Ms. Rizzo. I’m Sami. And a word of caution: Don’t believe what you hear. People around here have a tendency to exaggerate.”

  “Even when they say good things?”

  “Particularly when they do.”

  “Detective Diaz thinks you’re the best detective this precinct has ever seen.”

  “Does he, now?” Obviously, Detective Osbourn wasn’t aware of their relationship. “That’s only because I’m sleeping with him.”

  Osbourn laughed. “He also told me you have a great sense of humor.”

  “Anyone sleeping with Al has to have a sense of humor.”

  Osbourn still didn’t get it.

  “How long have you been in homicide, Richard?”

  “Nearly two years.”

  “So you started shortly after I left?”

  “Actually, I replaced you—in a manner of speaking.”

  “I see,” Sami said, easing out of the chair. He seemed way too young to be a homicide detective. He looked like he’d just graduated from high school. “So, this is your desk?”

  Osbourn nodded. “You’re more than welcome to sit there. I’m on my way out anyway.”

  “Thank you, Richard.” Sami extended her arm. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Sure.”

  “I really am sleeping with Al.”

  Sami took a few minutes to gather her thoughts, then headed for the captain’s office. Except that his desk looked even more cluttered than Sami remembered, not much had changed in his office. She did notice that the stench from cigarettes seemed even more overpowering, and the mountain of cigarette butts piled in his ashtray was worthy of a call to the people at Guinness.

  “I see you haven’t quit smoking, Captain.”

  “You sound like my wife.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Have you seen her recently?”

  The door squeaked open and in walked Police Chief Larson. “Nice to see you, Sami.” He nodded to the captain.

  “Likewise, Chief,” Sami said.

  Larson sat next to her. “What’s the good word?”

  “I’m not going to beat around the bush and share pleasantries or small talk,” she said. “I’ve given the situation careful thought and I want to be reinstated as a homicide investigator.”

  The room was as quiet as a mortuary. “After two-plus years out of this place, you want me to snap my fingers and rehire you?” Larson said.

  “I understand that there’s red tape and protocol, but—”

  “Protocol? I need approval from the City Council to buy a fucking roll of toilet paper these days.”

  “Then let’s talk to the City Council,” she suggested.

  “Our budget is for shit,” Captain Davidson said. “We can’t hire anybody right now. Not even a part-time janitor.”

  “So you’re telling me that even faced with the second serial killer in little more than two years, you boys aren’t going to pull out all the stops to get this guy? How’s Mayor Sullivan feel about that?”

  Davidson and Larson locked eyeballs.

  She leaned toward Larson. “Look, Chief, who else in this place has experience dealing with serial killers?”

  “No one,” Larson shot back. “You had fucking dinner with the son of a bitch, and didn’t even call for backup. That little stunt could have put you in the morgue. The last thing I need is some reckless loner going off half-cocked.”

  He blindsided her with that comment. But she deserved it. “You don’t have to remind me, Chief. Do you have any idea how many times I lie awake at night and w
ish I could go back and relive that day? Considering that I almost died and made my daughter an orphan, do you honestly think I would ever do such a foolish thing again?”

  “I sure hope not,” Larson said.

  Captain Davidson stood up and parked his hands on his hips. “Any idea when Al might be back?”

  Sami shook her head. “His sister is still in a coma and there’s no way of telling if or when she’ll snap out of it. I can tell you this, though, he’ll stay with his sister as long as necessary.”

  The three of them sat quietly, staring at one another. Chief Larson stood up. “Let me run it by the mayor. Give me a day or so. But to be honest, it’s more than a long shot.” He shook her hand. “If by the grace of God we do get a thumbs up, how soon are you available?”

  She thought about that for a minute. The hospital would discharge her mom in a few days and Emily had already started moving her things. And of course, she had to deal with dropping out of college. “Is immediately soon enough?”

  “Sorry it’s such late notice, Nicole,” Julian said. “But Doctor Hastings got the flu at the last minute, so I have to go in his place.” Lately, Julian was finding it painfully easy to lie to his wife, but he had his priorities. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was not pleased.

  “Who the hell is Doctor Hastings?”

  “He started at the hospital only a couple of months ago. He relocated from Chicago General. Real sharp guy.”

  “Why you? Can’t somebody else go to LA?”

  “Only Ted Hastings and I are qualified to lecture on this new procedure.” He put his arms around her and hugged her for a minute, rubbing her back and kissing her cheek.

  “It’s not fair,” Nicole whispered.

  “Do you like your new Range Rover and living two blocks from the ocean?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  “I’m merely trying to point out that there is a price to be paid for our upscale lifestyle. It’s not a nine-to-five job, Nicole. Sometimes it requires that I go out of town. It’s only two nights. I’ll be home by noon on Wednesday.”

 

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