by Lisa Eugene
“I just need to say one thing…in case you were concerned.” He hated the irritation in his voice and mellowed it. “I’m sorry I didn’t use protection.” When she didn’t respond, he proceeded to inform her about his frequent health exams and blood tests, hoping to alleviate any lingering anxiety. When he was done, she looked up, but he couldn’t read the emotion in her golden eyes. She held her spine stiff and her lips firmed with serious contemplation.
“Thank you.” Her voice cracked slightly. “I—I…You are the second person I’ve ever been with. I have no health issues either.”
“Great! Then we’re free to go at it like rabbits!” His lips crept up in a grin which he quickly chased away at the look of alarm on her face. Christ! Was she always so serious? Apparently just with him.
“It was a joke, Chloe.” He took a step towards her. He thought about what she’d confessed moments ago and wasn’t surprised. He’d guessed she hadn’t had a lot of experience. Her cheeks colored with a slight flush as he hooked a finger beneath her chin to tilt her gaze up to his. He studied the beautiful face mere inches from his and shivers hummed along his skin where he touched her.
“Are you doing okay?”
She nodded and suddenly pulled away, turning towards the charts sitting on a shelf by the wall. He wondered if she’d felt the strange rush from their nearness. He slid a palm across the back of his neck and kicked himself for having asked the question. She didn’t wish to discuss it. Right. She wanted to forget that it ever happened. Right.
“Are those the charts?”
After a slight pause, he marched over and grabbed the stack from the shelf then deposited them on the desk in front of her.
Her breath caught as she thumbed through the large stack. “What are all these?”
His gaze met her face, marking her startled expression. He hadn’t said anything yesterday. He’d wanted to consider the information she’d given him. “There’ve been a few other deaths that have been explained by old age in the past few months.”
“Oh my God…”
His palm shot up. “Let’s not jump the gun here.”
“Jump the gun? There must be six or seven charts here!”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “And it was determined that each patient died of natural causes. I requested the charts from medical records after going through the hospital’s recent deaths file.”
“So it wasn’t just my charts you requested?”
He shook his head, circling the desk. “At first, yes. Then I requested others also. I am concerned about a hospital epidemic although nothing I’ve found so far has indicated one.”
“Did you go through all these?”
“Just a few.”
“Doesn’t the hospital investigate—”
“Listen, this may seem like a lot, but this is a large hospital. These are not enough to trigger an internal investigation from the Occurrence and Safety Committee, and there was nothing suspicious about the deaths. I only questioned Mr. Barkley’s death because I knew him well and had no explanation for it. I then grew concerned when I heard about a similar incident with Mr. Prescott, but that’s me… Frankly, it’s just my nature to question everything.”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and his gaze strayed there. He knew the taste of those lips.
“The conference yesterday…the symptoms just reminded me so much of Mr. Barkley and Mr. Prescott. Do you believe me? Do you think I’m crazy?”
He chuckled grimly, looking into her eyes. “I don’t know what to believe. But, no. I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re looking for an answer just as I am. It may be that there simply is none. But, as farfetched as it is, it’s worth investigation, at the very least it’ll put your restless mind at ease.”
She nodded and took the chart he’d pulled from the top of the pile. He kept speaking as she flipped it open. “I’ve already gone through Mr. Barkley and Mr. Prescott’s. We can start with the others and compare notes.”
“I’d like to go back to them, if you don’t mind. I know Mr. Barkley and Mr. Prescott were extremely confused and agitated before they died. Now thinking back, their behavior was very unusual. I wanted to take a look at their medication list to see if they were on anything similar, maybe on a drug made by Omega. Perhaps the drug got contaminated or switched by accident with Memoram, or something like that.” She shrugged her thin shoulders and gestured towards the computer on his desk. “Do you have access to electronic records from here?”
Brad nodded, but his brows drew up on his forehead. She certainly did have a fertile imagination. The regulations for pharmaceutical companies in the United States for manufacturing and distributing drugs were stringent to the point of suffocation. What she proposed was virtually impossible. But he wasn’t going to tell her that. If she was anything like him, she needed to assess the data herself and reach her own conclusion. He had his own theory, and he could use her help with sorting through the charts to rule out a common infectious agent. If he could collect enough data to form a cogent argument then he’d go to the O & S Committee and have them look into the matter further.
“I have level one clearance. I’ll be able to access data that’s not in the charts.”
She sat, seemingly deep in thought for a few moments. “Dr. Gross talked about the subjects experiencing some sort of hearing loss or a feeling of water in the ears. Do you remember Mr. Barkley thought he’d been surfing? That he’d fallen off his surf board into the water?”
“Yes. I do remember you telling me that. Mr. Barkley was an avid surfer when he was much younger. He always talked about it.”
“Maybe the sensation he felt was much like being in the water and that was the only way his confused mind could express it, by associating the symptom with something familiar.”
Brad quirked a brow. “Interesting.”
“And Mr. Prescott too. I remember him complaining of a mild vertigo. He said he always felt like he had water in his ears, like he’d been swimming. I never made anything of it, but that was another thing that struck me as a strange coincidence since hearing the lecture yesterday. I’d like to go through the charts and see if anyone else documented a hearing issue or vertigo on any patient. I’d also like to look at their mental status during the course of their hospitalization, labs, physical exams, and then we can look through all the charts for similarities. Dr. Shaw said that the subjects in the experiment were cognitively stable and then suffered an acute agitation or paranoia.”
“Very well then.” Brad nodded, unable to hide the smile that tugged at his lips. “I see that you’ve given this considerable thought.”
She gave a decisive nod, and pulling a note pad, her cell phone, and a pen from her purse, she flipped open the chart and started shuffling sheets of paper.
Brad tapped his index finger against his chin, regarding her down-turned head. At first glance, Chloe seemed fragile and timid, with a protected vulnerability and an almost prudish introversion, but he was seeing glimpses of a woman who was fiercely brave when threatened, single minded in her pursuits, and who staunchly followed her convictions.
Pulling another chart from the pile, he wondered what her story was. He’d considered that she might have a boyfriend and had used him as retaliation for some egregious deed the guy had committed. Even bravely baring her breasts here in the office could have been, to her, the equivalent to a slap in his face. Was that why in the alley she’d wanted to be someone else? Was she trying to forget a love? Yesterday, she’d almost said she had to be with someone, then her thoughts had detoured. Had it been a boyfriend?
He didn’t know why that thought caused his heart to pump sluggishly, to squeeze a strange melancholy through his veins. The matter was of no consequence to him. He’d enjoyed a fleeting moment of incredible pleasure with her. A pleasure he hadn’t been able to accomplish in a long while, or since, for that matter. He grimaced, thinking maybe he should give Jasmine a call tonight, see what would happen. Maybe he was cured.
Realizing the thought held absolutely no appeal, he frowned and flipped open the chart, trying to focus on assuaging his curiosity instead of his lust.
The room was tranquil as they meticulously combed through the documentation, sometimes using the computer to gain additional information, and often comparing notes on similar findings. Frequently, Brad found his gaze returning to Chloe, absorbing her as she read. He would watch her capture her bottom lip in deep concentration or idly tap her pen against her cheek.
His mind was steeped in a moonlight memory when she glanced up and almost caught him staring. He looked down quickly, but moments later, with his head lowered, his lids rolled up again and his stubborn gaze collided with her pensive amber eyes. They simply stared. The room grew quiet. Time flowed between them with a languid sway, gently rocking the moment before she jerked her head down, severing the connection, and he couldn’t help the slight smile that tickled his lips and washed heat through his body. Still smiling, he bowed his head and continued reading.
Sometime later, Chloe snatched up her pen and started scribbling. “I found another one. This patient had complained of trouble hearing also. So much so that he’d been scheduled to see ENT for a consultation.”
Brad straightened in the chair, hooking an ankle over his knee. So far all of the patients had documented confusion. There were a total of seven charts. Six out of the seven had acute confusion before they died. And now Chloe found a fourth patient, including Mr. Barkley and Mr. Prescott, who’d complained of a hearing or inner ear issue. He folded his arms across his chest. It was all very interesting, but not unusual since these patients were all elderly. The symptoms themselves weren’t what concerned him, but the cluster and timing in this particular demographic. None of the patients had been on medications made by Omega. Chloe seemed to accept the information, but he could tell she was still very bothered by what she’d heard at the lecture.
“Do you think you could request Mr. Kaplan’s chart?” she asked hopefully.
Brad shrugged. “I suppose I can. It would probably take a few days. I have an OR case this afternoon, but I’ll have Bea take care of it.”
Chloe nodded and he saw her gaze scan the volume of loose papers covering his desk. “That’s okay. There’s a lot here to go through still. It’s much more than I expected and very time consuming.”
“Now you know why I didn’t get far.”
She glanced at her watch, then stood and started to stuff papers back into the charts and stack them into a neat pile. Brad rose from his seat, consulting the time. Had it been two hours already? His first patient wasn’t for another half an hour.
“You don’t have to go.” He stopped short. Hmmm…have I ever said those words to a woman?
She finished stacking the last chart and grabbed her purse, stuffing her things back into it. He had the absurd urge to grab it away from her, and like a kid, hold it high over her head so she couldn’t reach it. She’d have to stay a while longer.
“No, I have to go. I’m working tonight and need to get some rest,” she explained.
She fidgeted, not meeting his gaze, and he had the feeling she wasn’t being entirely honest. Was she meeting her boyfriend? Brad shook his head, annoyed with his musings. He was starting to sound like Larry! He still had her shredded panties in his underwear drawer for God’s sake! He had to cut this shit out.
He was walking her to the door when she stopped and turned to him. She favored him with one of those rare smiles she reserved for her friends. “Thank you.”
He nodded and she continued, “No, really. Thanks for ….indulging me. I know you probably think I’ve lost my mind. I’d like to come by and finish going through the charts at some point.”
“Any time. Anything you need.”
“This week is a little hectic for me. Maybe sometime next week.”
“Next week works for me too.”
He stepped close to her, sweeping a wisp that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. His fingers lingered on the delicate shell, tracing the satiny curve. Her skin was gossamer soft, and the urge to follow his fingers with his tongue was overwhelming. She bowed her head demurely and took a step back, her gaze drifting towards the floor. Brad smirked and dropped his hand. Was this the same woman who’d been so passionate two weeks ago, so eager to have him?
“I’ll let you know when is good next week,” she said quickly before disappearing through the door.
Brad smiled and pulled at his tie. Chloe was a complex woman, but he sensed that her modest innocence was more of a defense than anything. Clearly there was fire beneath the frumpy clothes, starched uniforms, and rosy blushes.
He approached his desk and his gaze landed on the stack of charts. His forehead tightened as he thought about the fact that there’d been someone in one of the patients’ rooms, and he became increasing concerned because he didn’t know what to make of it. His mind traveled back to Mr. Barkley and the night of his Code Blue. The poor man. His flaccid body, his sallow skin growing bluer by the minute, his vacant eyes…blotchy and red. Brad’s head jerked up. Mr. Barkley’s eyes had been filled with petechial hemorrhages. Brad had assumed they’d been from the efforts of reviving him. He stroked along his jaw, his thoughts twisting and turning a circuitous path. At the end of that path was a red-eyed devil.
Chloe clicked off the phone with Nurse Wall and looked at her bedside clock. She’d barely gotten two hours of sleep. Her supervisor wanted her to come in for a meeting at four-thirty. Apparently they’d learned some new information and had a few more questions.
She threw the sheets off her legs and scooted to the edge of her bed. With a belly yawn, she wondered what Nigel had said to them. They would have spoken to him by now. He might not have caught the person fleeing from the room, but maybe he’d seen enough to give a description. At the very least, he’d help corroborate her story that someone had been on the unit that night. Chloe stifled another yawn and tried to shake away her fatigue. After leaving Brad’s office, she’d gone by her mother’s apartment to check on her and then ran a few errands. Before she’d realized it, it had been mid-afternoon.
She’d met with Richard yesterday to go over their mother’s schedule and see who would fill in where for the coming month. He’d been surly the entire meeting, grumbling and claiming he was too busy to do any shifts consistently. Chloe rose from her bed and padded barefooted into her small bathroom. She didn’t understand how her brother could claim to be so busy when he was idly unemployed. God! She prayed he wasn’t in trouble with drugs again. He hadn’t shown any overt signs, but with drugs, you couldn’t always tell.
It was only after she’d agreed to give him a small stipend that he’d reluctantly acquiesced to doing one or two shifts a week. And of course he’d quibbled over the amount. He really didn’t understand how desperate their situation was. It was only her salary and the small sum her mother received from social security supporting all three of them. Lately she’d been even considering giving up her apartment and moving in with her mother. It wasn’t like she had much of a social life anyway and paying for two apartments was a burden.
She stepped into the shower and turned on the water, thinking about her time with Brad that morning, thinking how they’d worked well together going through the charts. She knew he didn’t give much credence to her concerns, but it touched her that he’d listened and considered her suspicions. Despite everything that had occurred between them, their interaction had not been as strained as she’d expected…mostly. Chloe gave a decisive nod. See… I’m almost immune to him. As long as she didn’t look at him, touch him, or think about him, she was fine.
Under the warm spray of the water, she found it increasingly difficult to do the latter. As the droplets sluiced over her skin she imagined they were his long fingers following her curves, infusing warmth and slipping into her hidden recesses. Chloe let her palm trace the trail of warm water until it slid between her thighs. She closed her eyes and experienced the fierce pounding of the spray w
hile her fingers found their own rhythm. Memories of her encounter with Brad had been the catalyst for so many explosive moments this week, and seeing him today served only to amplify her desire for him. He’d looked gorgeous in his fitted suit. The color of his eyes were a beautiful sky blue that morphed with his emotions, his shoulders broad and strong, his thighs solid. And… She groaned with pleasure, knowing now what was in his drawers. She recalled with sensuous detail how amazing he’d felt when they’d been together…
A few minutes later, her fingers gripped the shower knob, and she tried to hold her spine steady as pleasure wracked her body and almost doubled her over. It did not surprise her when Brad’s name leapt longingly from her tongue at her climax.
Immune to him? Chloe huffed. Just because he can make me come like I have epilepsy doesn’t mean anything!
Groaning, she turned off the water, trying to focus on her upcoming meeting. She realized with a measure of surprise that she was looking forward to it. Perhaps her supervisors could provide some explanations and alleviate her nagging anxieties.
Chloe was surprised when she walked into the large conference room and saw five people sitting rigidly behind a long, polished wooden desk. She was so taken aback that her feet faltered at the door, stopping her in her tracks. She immediately recognized Nurse Wall and Mrs. Chavez. The sight of the director of the nursing department, Mrs. Pardon, had her feet struggling with the effort to carry her into the room. The two men sitting at the table dressed in crisp dark suits Chloe had never seen before.
“Please, come in, Nurse Bennett.” One of the men beckoned her forward with his hand.
With unsteady steps, Chloe approached the table and sat in the chair he indicated. She had an oppressive sense of dread as she sat alone on one side of the table facing the five stoic faces. Though Nurse Wall’s countenance looked purposefully schooled, her sharp gaze impaled her.
The man who had motioned her in smiled tightly, and Chloe supposed it had been an attempt to relax her, but the action reminded her of a shark with its infinite rows of lethal teeth, and her anxiety spiked. He wore wire rim glasses that magnified his hard brown eyes.