by Chris Taylor
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sam put the last suture in place and straightened her back. A muscle in her shoulder complained. She’d been bent over the gurney for way too long and now she was paying for it. She’d give anything for a back massage. If only she had the time…
Night after night, driving home from work, she vowed to leave a little earlier the next time so she could visit a massage therapist in the city, but over and over it happened like tonight: She’d end up taking the exit that took her over the Harbour Bridge and arrive home with the kinks still in her tired muscles and the knots still in her back.
Placing her tools in the stainless steel tray beside the gurney, she returned the body to the fridge. Tugging off her protective clothing, she dropped the pile into the laundry bin and headed into the showers. At close to five, the day was as good as done. With September now upon them, the days were getting longer. She smiled at the thought of enjoying a few rays of afternoon sunshine and finding new flowers blooming in the garden beds that lined the pathway to her building.
On spring days like this, she missed the large backyard she’d had as a child. During those early years, she spent hours in the garden with her sisters and her mom. Even Alistair would come out and help sometimes and they’d gather around and listen while their mother told them stories about when she was young: how she’d worked in the garden with her own mother and how she was taught what each plant was and where it would grow best.
Sam’s smile turned sad. It had been a long time since her mother had been well enough to do anything other than enjoy a little fresh air and sunshine in her beautiful garden. She was far too sick to get down on her hands and knees and weed and plant and water like she wanted to.
Sam and her siblings now contributed to the cost of a gardener and once a week, a man came in to trim the hedges, weed the garden beds and water the plants. It didn’t make up for the fact Enid Wolfe couldn’t do it herself, but Sam knew it gave her mother pleasure to know the property was being cared for and treated with love.
Scrubbing away the effects of the day, Sam rinsed off and then stepped out of the shower. Drying herself, she slipped on the clothes she’d worn to work and then ran a brush through her damp hair. It curled around her face and she impatiently tucked it back behind her ears. It irritated her that the gesture reminded her of how Rohan had run his fingers through her hair.
She was grateful he’d left when he had. She might have done something embarrassing—like apologizing and begging him to stay—and as much as time had taken most of the heat from the memory of his words, she was still convinced her anger had been justified. It saddened her to think she’d lost his friendship—and what could have been a whole lot more—for a second time. The look he’d thrown her before he left her apartment told her it was unlikely he’d ever set foot in her building again.
With a sigh, she returned to her office. Taking a seat before her computer, she began to enter her findings for the autopsies she’d conducted throughout the day. The phone at her elbow rang, momentarily startling her. She assumed, this late in the day, most of the people she dealt with would have packed up and gone home. Picking up the receiver, she answered the call.
“Doctor Wolfe.”
“Sam, it’s Angie. Sorry to bother you, but you have a visitor in the waiting room. It’s that detective again. The cute one. Are you available to see him?”
Sam’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Rohan. She hadn’t expected him to seek her out. In fact, she hadn’t expected to hear from him ever again.
“Sam?”
She blinked and cleared her frantic thoughts. “Um… It’s fine, Angie. Tell him I’ll be out in a minute.”
“No problem. I’m about to finish for the day and I think most of the other staff are gone. Are you going to be all right with him here on your own?”
“Yes, of course, I’ll be fine. The detective’s a…a friend of mine.”
“In that case, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Thanks, Angie. Have a good night.”
Sam hung up the receiver and did her best to slow the racing of her heart. Rohan was outside, waiting for her. A part of her wanted to run and hide. How could she face him at work? The last time they’d shared company, they hadn’t worn many clothes and knowing how that evening had ended so disastrously…
She drew in another deep breath and eased it out between dry lips. She’d told Angie she’d see Rohan. He was waiting for her. Everyone else had gone home. She couldn’t leave him out there forever. Besides, even if she felt like running, she was the last staff member in the building and needed to set the alarm in the main foyer—right beside the waiting room.
“For goodness sake, Samantha, get it together!” she chided herself out loud. She was being silly hiding in her office like a school girl. The sooner she met with him and got it over with, the better.
He was obviously here on police business. Why else would he come and see her at work? That reminded her of the last time he’d been there and how their conversation had centered on the two of them and their shared past. A fresh wave of nerves assailed her, but she forced herself out of her chair. Leaning over, she saved the work on her computer and logged out. It would have to wait until tomorrow.
She collected her handbag from the closet in the corner of her office, and slung it over her shoulder, tossed back her hair and headed out the door.
She saw him before he saw her. He stood just inside the entryway, with his hands jammed into the pockets of his suit pants. His tie was slightly askew and his hair was rumpled. He looked like a tired professional who’d had a hard day. She wondered what, in particular, had caused his fatigue.
Though her rubber-soled shoes made no sound on the tiled floor, his head snapped around seconds after she stepped into the reception area. His gaze zeroed in on her. Tension held her immobile and her heart felt like it might leap right out of her chest, but she drew in a few surreptitious breaths and willed herself to appear outwardly calm.
“Rohan. What are you doing here?” She gave an inward sigh of relief. Even to her ears, she sounded cool and composed.
“It’s about the investigation.”
She looked at him steadily and tried to ignore her disappointment. “What about it?”
“The autopsy you told me about at the station—the one where you couldn’t find the consent form. What was the deceased person’s name?”
Sam cast around in her memory and then came up with it. “Natalie Piccoli.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve been over all of the donor files that came from the Sydney Harbour Hospital. Natalie Piccoli’s notes weren’t among them.”
“Perhaps her records were sent here by mistake, along with the report for the coroner?”
“Is that possible?”
“Of course. It happens more often than you think. Administrative staff often assume the coroner’s office needs access to everything in the file. The truth is, anything of relevance in the hospital notes is included in the report prepared for the coroner.”
“Could you get me a printout of all autopsies conducted in this morgue since June—the ones where the deceased has donated some, or all, of their organs?”
“Yes. It might take a little while and I don’t have time right now, but I’ll get on it in the morning.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that. By the way, where did Natalie Piccoli come from?”
“You mean, which hospital treated her?”
“Yes.”
Sam took a moment to think, but in reality, it was an excuse to buy time and gather her thoughts. She thought of her brother and prayed silently he had nothing to do with it—whatever “it” was.
“Do you want to check your file?” Rohan asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“No. The patient had been treated at the Sydney Harbour Hospital. The organ retrieval was carried out there and then the deceased was sent here for a post mortem.”
“Who was the treating doctor?”
She closed her eyes briefly and then opened them again. She kept her gaze steady on his. “Doctor Alistair Wolfe.”
“Your brother.”
Sam nodded and forced herself to hold his stare.
“Was he in charge of the organ retrieval, too?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” His words sounded so final, like it was confirming something even bigger that he knew and she didn’t. She did her best to control her panic.
“It’s not unusual,” she said quickly. “My brother’s head of the Unit. He’s present for a good number of these things. Besides, it’s not like he’s a one man show. The theater would be full of people: retrieval teams from various other hospitals, nursing staff and the like.
“In fact, the more I think about it, the more I’m sure that the fact some of us have noticed a higher incidence in organ and tissue removal over the past couple of months is nothing more than a coincidence, or the result of an extremely effective donor awareness campaign. Unless you’re thinking whole teams of professionals could be involved in a conspiracy.” She laughed, hoping to convince him how ludicrous the very thought of such a thing was, but it came out sounding flat.
“I understand what you’re saying,” he replied firmly, his expression somber, “but I’m not sure I believe it’s only coincidence. The file you mentioned isn’t the only one missing a consent form.”
Her mouth fell open in surprise and a fresh wave of panic tightened like a band around her chest. Her thoughts flew once again to Alistair and she didn’t know why. He was a passionate campaigner for organ and tissue donation, but she’d never believe him capable of something as heinous as removing a person’s organs without their consent. And yet, it appeared someone on his team could be doing just that.
She shook her head in silent denial, hoping and praying it wasn’t true. “I… I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“There’s no need for you to worry. It’s my job to find out what’s happening and who’s responsible. To some extent, I understand why a doctor, devoted to saving lives, might feel the need to remove whatever can be used by others from a patient on the brink of death. Your brother explained how frustrating it is for him to send healthy tissues to the grave. I can see how it would be so, especially now knowing how much good an unlimited consent for organ and tissue donation can do.”
“It doesn’t make it right, though,” Sam whispered.
“Or legal. And that’s why I’ll do what I have to in order to get to the bottom of it.”
She looked at him and tried hard to keep the hot sting of tears at bay. No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, something deep inside her told her Alistair was involved.
He might not be the doctor removing the additional tissues, but as head of the Unit and participating in so many of the retrievals, it stood to reason he knew something about it. She could only hope and pray his knowledge wouldn’t send him to prison.
Swallowing a sigh, she drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Crossing her arms over her chest, she addressed Rohan again. “Will that be all?”
“At the meeting I had with your brother and the general manager, he confirmed what you said: that in order to harvest organs from a deceased who requires an autopsy, the authorization of the coroner or one of his deputies must be obtained. Do you remember telling me that?”
“Yes. It’s standard procedure. The coroner gets the final say when cause of death is yet to be determined.”
“Who was the coroner who authorized the retrieval of Natalie Piccoli’s organs?”
“Deputy Coroner Richard Davis.”
“Did you mention to him that the consent form was missing?”
Sam thought back. “No. He was off sick at the time I conducted the autopsy, but I raised it with the State Coroner because I was concerned our procedures might need to be reviewed. I assumed the paperwork had been mislaid somewhere between here and the hospital. In that case, it’s impossible to know who’s at fault. It could have been lost on the hospital ward, during the transfer to the hospital morgue, or while the body was being transported here. I wanted to make sure it hadn’t happened on our end and if it had, that it didn’t happen again.”
Rohan pulled a notebook and pen out of his pocket and scribbled in it. When he’d finished, he closed the notebook and returned it and the pen to his pocket.
“Are we done?” Sam asked.
He stared at her. The silence between them lengthened. She wanted to look away, but the intensity of his expression held her enthralled. His eyes darkened with emotion and he opened his mouth to speak.
“I… I needed to see you.”
She licked dry lips and forced herself to respond. “And you have.”
He shook his head, dismissing her words. “Not only about the investigation. It’s been too long. I… I can’t stop thinking about you and…about what happened. I’m sorry. I wanted to explain about what I said… I didn’t mean it the way you thought. The words came out all wrong. It never occurred to me you were trying to deceive me. What I said was stupid and I upset you. I didn’t mean to. God, upsetting you was the last thing I wanted to do.”
Sam listened to him stumbling over his words and could see how genuinely sorry he was. Her heart softened. Their disagreement and subsequent misunderstanding wasn’t entirely his fault. She’d been quick to jump to conclusions and she should have given him a little more time to explain—or at least been prepared to listen when he tried.
“It’s fine, Rohan. You’re not the only one to blame. I’m sorry, too. I pride myself on my honesty. Lying about something as important as birth control is something I’d never contemplate. I guess I was a little taken aback that you thought me capable of it, especially right when we were about to…”
Heat scorched her face and she turned her head away. It was one thing to be into it in the heat of the moment, but to discuss it in the cold light of day…
He stepped closer and palmed her cheek with his hand. The tender expression on his face snatched her breath. She stared at him and her heart beat faster as he bent his head and grazed her mouth with his.
“Shh,” he murmured against her lips. “Let’s not talk anymore.”
Blood pulsed through her body and need struck, hot and urgent. Her mouth parted on an indrawn breath and his eyes flared with desire. Her arms went around his neck and she clung to him, loving the strength and solidity of him. His lips moved over hers with increasing urgency and she gave back all she had.
The kiss, fiery in its intensity, went on forever. Their tongues danced and tangled. He tasted of coffee and breath mints. His mouth felt divine. A myriad of exciting thoughts raced through her head while a saner part of her mind warned her to slow things down. She was at work, and although she and Rohan were alone in the offices, this wasn’t the best time or place.
“Rohan!” she gasped, pushing against him. “I… I think we should stop.” He lifted his head, looking dazed, and stared at her with eyes that were filled with desire. And then he blinked and refocused and slowly moved away.
He drew in a deep breath, eased it out and then breathed deeply again. Sam understood how he felt. Her heart was pounding as fast as if she’d just sprinted a marathon.
“I’m sorry,” she said and watched him tense. “Not about the kiss,” she hurried to reassure him, “but I’m at work. I can’t be making out with a hot guy in the foyer of my building.”
His face and body relaxed and he offered her a slow and sexy smile. “You think I’m hot?”
She blushed, but nodded. “Damn right,” she grinned.
With two long steps, he closed the distance between them and scooped her up in his arms. He swung her around and she laughed, clinging to his shoulders. When he set her down, he did it slowly and slid her all the way down his length. Her body clenched at the
feel of his hard cock pressing into her stomach.
Desire rekindled as quickly as it had been doused and she reached up and dragged his head back down to hers. Kissing him thoroughly, she once again pulled away and stared up at him. “How about we try this again: Your place or mine?”
He stared at her with such heat in his gaze, her toes curled up inside her shoes. “Mine.”
* * *
Sam followed Rohan’s unmarked police car through the streets of Sydney. Evening peak hour was in full swing and the traffic was heavy in both directions. They crawled across the Harbour Bridge and then turned left toward an exit that would take them to the affluent, lower North Shore suburb of Cremorne.
Less than three miles from the city, it was an old, well established area with many large and expensive homes. There were also a number of high-rise apartments, with prices for a modest unit starting at a little less than a million. Rohan had done well for himself by securing a house with such an impressive zip code and she couldn’t help but admire him for it.
It wasn’t the only thing she admired about him…
She blushed anew at the thought of their heated kisses and knowing she was on her way to his house for the sole purpose of sleeping with him shocked her. Though far from inexperienced, she’d never acted with such brazenness in her life. She couldn’t deny it felt naughty… But it also felt right and undeniably good.
A surge of excitement rushed through her. Somehow, she knew instinctively that Rohan would be an amazing lover. If his kisses were anything to go by, she was in for a magical time. And she wanted to touch him too, and give him pleasure and familiarize herself with every bump and hollow… She squirmed with impatience.
Keeping his squad car in sight, she wove in and out of the traffic. It had thinned since she’d taken the exit, but it was still heavy enough that she was forced to drive at a slower pace than the speed limit allowed. She chafed at the delay, but there was nothing she could do. Perhaps she should use the enforced time in her car to think through her rash decision to sleep with Rohan… Or maybe not.