Surrender My Love

by Lisa Eugene

  “Can’t talk now!” He disconnected Bea and dialed Chloe’s number, turning and glancing back down the hall to the conference room. He wiped his forehead again as sweat trickled down his temple, swearing as the phone rang and rang. With a frustrated groan, he disconnected the call and dialed again, feeling his heart do summersaults in his chest. The phone was wobbling, suffering the effects of the fine tremors in his fingers. He hadn’t taken his medication this morning. Damn…

  Chloe! Answer the fucking phone!

  Finally, blessedly, he heard her voice on the other end. It wrapped around his heart so tight he wanted to die from the news he had for her.

  “Chloe.” He swallowed hard. “Where are you?”

  “Hi, Brad.” He could sense her smile on the other end.

  “Where are you, Chlo?” He knew his voice was hard and strained, but he couldn’t tame it.

  “I’m…I’m home.” There was a frown in her voice. “Is…is something wrong?”

  He hesitated briefly, then turned and glanced down the hall. He didn’t have much time. He had to get back inside. He took a deep breath.

  “Chloe. It was potassium that was found in your locker—a lethal dose.”

  “Oh, God. That’s impossible!”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, wanting to grab hold and pull roughly with his frustrated anger.

  “There’s more. The police found something in your apartment. Another syringe.”

  “No way. There’s no way,” she whispered, her voice vibrating with fear.

  His words choked in his throat, and his chest ached raw with emotion. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to weep.

  “They did an autopsy on Kaplan. I’m hearing there’s enough evidence to arrest you, Chlo…”

  Silence.

  “The police are on their way to take you into custody. Listen, I know you didn’t do this. I know it was Omega. We’ll prove it. I promise.”

  Silence.

  “Chloe?”

  Silence.

  “Fuck, Chlo…talk to me!” he hissed.

  Something like a whimper came through the phone, and he squeezed his eyes shut and swore vividly.

  “I’m going to call Monty Kleiner. He’ll meet you down at the police station. I’ll be there in a little while. Do not say anything to the police until he gets there.”

  Silence.

  “Okay?”

  He heard a sniffle and a weak ‘okay.’

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered passionately. “So damned sorry.”

  Brad disconnected and dialed Monty Kleiner. After a minute of explaining the situation to him, he hung up. He stood with the phone clutched in his fist, almost crushing it from the fury priming his muscles.

  He wanted to march back into the conference room and unleash his violent emotions on the administrators, but he knew it wouldn’t benefit Chloe to do so. They never would have taken him into their confidence and shared the information about her imminent arrest if they knew he was on her side. If they were aware of his relationship with her, they would shut him out completely. And with the way events were quickly evolving, it would be beneficial to keep privy to inside information.

  He combed his fingers through his hair, trying to think of a way to make a hasty exit from this meeting. He turned to glance down the hall again and suddenly drew up short, his gaze meeting calculating brown eyes. Nurse Wall was standing behind him. Her beady brown stare assessed him with her thick brows jumping into her forehead.

  “Is everything okay?”

  Brad nodded curtly, his heart slamming violently against his ribs. “Yes. Thank goodness the patient is fine.”

  “Good,” She smiled and turned towards the door. “Mr. Daley has a few questions for you.”

  Brad replaced the phone in his suit pocket. In a few minutes, he’d text Bea again to call him and then make an excuse and permanently leave. He needed to be with Chloe. It killed him to think about what she would have to endure.

  He walked into the conference room and took his seat, the commotion in his gut swirling to a steady bustle. Nurse Wall circled the table and sat across from him, while Brad tuned in to a conversation between Mrs. Pardon and Mr. Daley. They were discussing his patient Madame LaFontine. She’d packed up that morning and finally left the hospital, presumably in fear for her life.

  “It’s a shame that this scandal has caused sick patients in need of medical care to leave the hospital!” Mr. Daley was saying.

  “Yes, that poor, sweet woman. She must have been terrified,” Mrs. Chavez chimed in. “I hope the hospital’s reputation will recover from Nurse Bennett’s actions.”

  It was all Brad could do not to explode in anger. The hospital had been trying to get Angelique to leave for weeks! She faked her chest pain and terrorized the staff! If anything, they should be thrilled that she’d finally left!

  He brought the grinding of his teeth to a halt and tried to check his expression, but the more they talked the more they stoked his burning ire. The two were now trying to guess where Chloe had acquired the syringe of potassium and wondered how a nurse who had such problems could have gone undetected.

  Nurse Wall chimed in to say that Chloe’s mother had mental problems and there must obviously be a family history. Brad cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. The room grew suddenly quiet as all eyes fixed on him, but he found it impossible to sit and listen to these idiots pontificate any longer.

  “Does it not strike anyone as odd that Nurse Bennett would leave a syringe filled with a lethal dose of potassium in her locker? A syringe that is labeled?”

  The eyes darted to and fro, searching for a spot of common sense in a space that was crowded with speculations of nonsense. Suddenly Nurse Wall’s face unfolded with an invidious smile.

  “Well, I’ve worked with Nurse Bennett for a long time, and I must say she is not very bright.”

  Nurse Wall added an annoying tinkle of laughter to the end of her assessment, one that caused the drums in Brad’s ears to pop loudly like exploding balloons. He fisted his hands until they were straining white, his biceps bulging thick beneath his suit. Chloe had said only her supervisors had access to her locker. He didn’t trust the conniving gleam in Nurse Wall’s hawkish eyes. It wouldn’t surprise him if she somehow had a hand in Chloe’s problems. His eyes tracked her as she tittered again. He’d never hit a woman in his life and had never felt the desire stronger than right at that very moment.

  Brad slipped into a cab outside the hospital and slid across the upholstered leather seat. The midtown streets were busy in the middle of the day, with a cacophony of noise filtering into the cab. Cars honked, people shouted, and the laughter of children playing on the sidewalk mingled into the city’s symphony. His cell phone rang and he was glad to see that it was Monty Kleiner. Monty should have reached the police station by now and should have news of Chloe. Brad was desperate to know what was going on.

  He’d had Bea clear his office schedule and postpone his surgical case to tomorrow morning. He’d had trouble getting out of the meeting with the administrators. Mr. Edgle had had some urgent questions for him about Mr. Barkley and needed to set up time for them to meet again later during the week. Brad hadn’t wanted to seem uncooperative, especially since he’d been the one so insistent on the meeting.

  “What’s going on, Monty?” he barked into his phone.

  “I’m at the station. There’s a lot of confusion here, Brad.” Monty’s clipped voice sounded in his ear.

  Brad frowned. “Confusion?”

  “Yes. The police showed up at Miss Bennett’s apartment, but she wasn’t there.”

  The noise from the city street filtered into the cab, becoming a dull drone in the background. Brad shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “I mean she wasn’t on the premises. A neighbor said he saw her leave with a backpack. From what I heard, the police also went to another location down town. Four forty-five Essex Street.”

 
“That’s her mother’s address.”

  “She wasn’t at that location either.”

  Brad’s head started to pound and sweat erupted on his forehead. What the hell was going on? Where the fuck was Chloe?

  “The chief tells me that they’re looking into another location now. She has a brother in the city?”

  Brad’s temples pounded. His head felt like it was going to burst open. “Yes, but she wouldn’t go to him.”

  Monty sighed on the other end. “Listen, there’s more.”

  He took a deep breath, pinching his nose between his thumb and index finger. Swallowing hard, he desperately tried to buffer the acid burning fear and dread through his stomach.

  “The police found her cell phone in a trash bin. It looks like she took off. Did she say anything to you?”

  A harsh curse spewed from his throat, his world teetering on its axis. He didn’t know what to think. Did something happen to her? Did she run? He used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat that drenched his brow.

  “No,” he croaked.

  “This is not good, Brad. It just makes her look guilty. Do you know where she might have gone?”

  Brad sighed. Other than her mother’s, he couldn’t think of any other place Chloe would be. He knew she’d had a loathsome experience with the police last week, but he never thought she’d try to avoid arrest. He shook his head slowly, imagining Chloe running, alone, and scared, or worse. The thought of her on her own and unprotected was terrifying. Someone was already trying to make her look guilty for the deaths in the hospital and had had access to her apartment. What if she hadn’t run? What if some harm had come to her? Fuck!

  “Monty, we have to find her!” he almost yelled into his phone. His vision darkened with spots of pure panic.

  “There’s an APB out on her now. Don’t worry, the police will bring her in.”

  Brad buried his face in his hands, his world spinning out of control and his heart spinning into desolate blackness.

  Brad’s surgical case was scheduled to begin at seven the following morning, and he was known to be a stickler about starting on time. The patient had been prepped, the operating room was staffed and ready, and the anesthesiologist had induced a deep and dreamless unconsciousness. Brad was in the anteroom scrubbing, lathering his arms and each finger with special antibacterial soap, trying not to splash his blue surgical scrubs. He held his wet hands up in front of his face and stared hard. No tremors. He’d taken his medication this morning and was perfectly steady. But he knew his tremors were all inside, trying to shake up his equilibrium and knock around his resolve. They’d already ravaged him all night long, energized and fueled by his morbid fear. But now he wouldn’t let them.

  There’d been no word of Chloe since he’d spoken to Monty yesterday afternoon. He’d called her cell several times, even knowing that no one would answer. He’d gone to her mother’s and spoken to Maria. Aside from asking Maria to do extra shifts, Chloe had mentioned nothing else during her conversation with the aide. He deduced that Chloe had called her right after getting off the phone with him. Maria had told him the same thing she’d told the police, and he’d asked her not to mention to anyone that he’d been by. At least now he knew Chloe hadn’t been taken against her will, although, he still felt she was in just as much danger. His body sang with the intuition of it, and it was driving him out of his mind not knowing where she was. He and Rose had shared a bowl of ice cream, and he found himself rambling on about her amazing daughter. Although Rose had no clue what was going on in Chloe’s life, he’d looked into her amber eyes and promised to find her and bring her home.

  “Are you okay, Dr. Markson?” The voice came from behind him and Brad turned to face Maggie, the OR nursing director.

  Despite his inner turbulence, he managed a crooked smile and held up his hands for inspection.

  “All clean!” he announced. The staff called her the Germ Nazi and it had taken him a while to get used to her quirkiness, but they’d grown to have a mutual respect for each other. She was one of the few nurses not intimidated by him.

  Maggie waved his hands down, but he noticed her gaze survey the water line to make sure he’d scrubbed to his elbows. Her blue eyes grew serious.

  “There was a nurse who stopped by here for you last week.” She tilted her blonde head and studied him. “Nurse Chloe Bennett.”

  “Oh?”

  “She’d said it was urgent.”

  “I’ve since spoken with her, but thank you for letting me know.” He thinned his lips and turned to walk away when her voice stopped him. Just the mention of Chloe’s name had his blood sizzling.

  “I don’t believe what they’re saying about her. Just wanted you to know that.”

  Word had spread like wild fire. The entire hospital knew of the notorious nurse from Four West. There had been a report on the six o’ clock news yesterday about the missing suspect who was to face charges for two mysterious deaths at WMH. The reporter had thankfully not mentioned Chloe’s name, but Brad was certain that everyone at the hospital knew her identity. The reporter had intimated that there may be even more charges as the case unfolded.

  Brad scanned Maggie’s face, wondering if she was simply looking for fodder for gossip. He saw sincerity in her eyes and he relaxed, forcing himself to take a deep breath.

  “Good. Don’t.”

  “I’ve joined the search party.”

  He frowned, confused as to her meaning.

  “The nurses are all worried about her, worried that something might have happened to her. Some of them have formed a search party. We’ll be taking turns on our days off to look for her. ”

  Brad was so moved he didn’t know how to respond. The fact that her colleagues would use their free time to search for her confirmed what an amazing person Chloe was.

  “It was started by Dr. Connolly and Susan, a nurse from her ward.”

  He grimaced. Was that the nurse he’d yelled at? “I think it’s great that they would do something like that.”

  “Yeah, we’ll each take a different route around the city. We’ll start at her apartment, then go to her mother’s, then hit local stores and coffee shops…that sort of thing.”

  “Well, I support it one hundred percent.”

  He shot her a slight smile, thinking there was a lot more to Maggie Masters than met the eye. He’d heard a rumor that she was married to an ex-SEAL—definitely wouldn’t want to piss her off! He smiled again, then turned with his hands still raised, and walked through the doors to the OR, focusing his mind and his thoughts on the patient laying on the table. She was the one who needed him now.

  Chloe pulled her hoodie over her head and joined the crowd gathering by the door of the subway car. The packed train rumbled to a stop, complained with a loud, whiny squeak, then jerked the passengers about roughly, like an angry beast. She held on to an overhead metal loop, knowing that if she didn’t, she’d end up crumpled on top of another rider.

  She’d been on and off the subway now for three days, trying to catch some sleep when she could. Her diet consisted mostly of coffee, donuts and sandwiches from kiosks. She didn’t trust going into a restaurant for fear that she’d be recognized, but with her troubled stomach tied in knots, it wasn’t as though she had much of an appetite.

  Adjusting the backpack on her shoulders, she exited the train onto the platform. It was early morning rush hour and she flowed with the sea of bodies commuting to work. Dour faces and stiff bodies headed toward the stairs. Head down, Chloe surreptitiously scanned the area. Her eyes caught a milling figure in dark blue and her feet came to an abrupt halt. There was a police officer straight ahead. He was leaning on a post, his scanning gaze taking in the commuters.

  Chloe quickly turned, inadvertently bumping into a woman rushing towards the stairs. The woman elbowed her and spouted a harsh rebuke, but Chloe didn’t stay long enough to listen. Heart banging in her bosom, she took off in the opposite direction, her sneakered feet thudding rapidly against the
platform. She didn’t dare look back. She quickly took the stairs on the other end and exited into the cool morning air, walking at a clip pace down the busy avenue.

  She tried not to think of her predicament or the magnitude of shit she was in. After getting the phone call from Brad three days ago, she’d freaked out. The one thing she knew was there was no way in hell she could be locked up; she couldn’t face that horrid detective again, couldn’t endure the derision, and couldn’t be away from her mother. Brad had been right. Someone was making it look like she’d killed those patients. That someone was Omega. Mr. Phillips had tested the Memoram on hospitalized patients and things had gone wrong. Now, they were trying to blame her. She had to get proof.

  She urgently needed to speak to Gordon Shaw, because the only thing that could exonerate her was the information on Memoram, especially the drug formula. At least then she’d have something she could take to the police. Dr. Shaw had said that Memoram had a long half-life, which meant it stayed in the blood stream for a long time. If Mr. Kaplan had had an autopsy, and especially if they suspected that he’d not died of natural causes, his blood samples would be kept for further examination. This meant it could still be checked for the presence of Memoram, or maybe traces of the drug could be found in body tissues. But first, the medical examiner would need to know what to look for.

  She pulled her hoodie further over her head, obscuring her face from the morning light. She thought of Brad and a knot braided in her chest, tight and constricting. He was probably pissed at her for running away. He’d been so kind and supportive, a source of strength she’d never expected. He didn’t need to do any of the things he did to help her. She blinked back the tears moistening her eyes, and coughed away the emotion foaming in her throat.

  She’d never in her life known anyone like him, someone who cared so much that he, despite her resistance, was relentless and passionate about coming to her aid. It was hard to believe that a man like him could have feelings for her, but was it possible? He’d taken residence in her heart, lived in the rich blood that pumped through her vessels, nourishing her. He deserved at least to know that she was okay. He could get her in touch with Gordon Shaw. She was loath, though, to ask him for more help. She didn’t want him embroiled in her mess.