by Laura Scott
“He’s had plenty of time to stage a mass shooting if that was his goal,” Isaac pointed out. “In my opinion, he’s enjoying this cloak and dagger stuff far too much.”
“You’re probably right,” she agreed, but she couldn’t shake the sense of despair. Over the course of the last several years there had been too many mass shootings to count.
Some people would do anything for a moment of glory. Was Boyd Sullivan one of them?
She truly didn’t know.
Isaac changed the subject to comment on Aiden’s progress with fostering the pups. “He’s really doing great with them, isn’t he?”
She smiled. “Yes, I’m amazed at the difference in just twenty-four hours. As much as I feel bad for the pups’ mother being attacked by a coyote, I’m thrilled Aiden has been given this opportunity.”
“I’m happy to keep checking in on him, if you think it will help.”
She was touched by his offer. “That would be great. I know Aiden still has a ways to go, but every step forward gives me hope for his future.”
Isaac nodded. “It’s the same for me, too. Knowing Beacon is close is a start, but...” His voice trailed off, then he softly continued, “I’m still not sure how much I’ll be able to manage my symptoms.”
She understood that this was his way of warning her there couldn’t be anything romantic between them. That he didn’t consider her anything but a friend. And she felt foolish that she’d thought, even for a minute, otherwise.
“I know, Isaac.” She lightly brushed her fingers over his tanned forearm. “It’s okay.” She drained her iced coffee. “Thanks again, but I should head home. I need to encourage Aiden to eat something for dinner, and I have to work early in the morning.”
Isaac stood, his brow furrowed. “You’re going to take Eagle with you to the hospital tomorrow, right?”
She glanced down at her faithful Doberman and reluctantly nodded. “Yes, I’ll take him. But it’s not going to be easy to look out for his needs while also caring for my patients. He can’t be in the middle of the ICU with me and patient care has to come first.”
“I don’t want you to go to the hospital alone, so I’ll walk you over early in the morning. That way, I can give you a hand with Eagle during your shift,” Isaac offered.
“All right,” she agreed, understanding he was just fulfilling his role as her protector.
He walked her home. Her phone rang as they reached the door. She pulled it out, frowning when she didn’t recognize the number. It began with the base exchange, so she went ahead and answered it.
“Hello?”
“Next time, you won’t get away,” a gravelly voice said.
“Who is this?” she demanded, looking at Isaac. She could feel the blood draining from her face. Holding her breath, she waited for a reply.
But there was nothing but silence on the line.
“What did he say?” Isaac asked.
She drew in a shaky breath. “‘Next time, you won’t get away.’”
“I think I need to sleep on your sofa tonight,” Isaac said, his expression troubled. “I don’t like this at all.”
“I don’t, either.” Her fingers trembled as she slipped the phone back in her pocket. Had the voice belonged to Boyd? She couldn’t say one way or the other for sure. She swallowed hard and tried to pull herself together. “There will be a cop outside my door starting at nineteen hundred hours.”
“Then I’ll wait.” Isaac put his hand in the center of her back and escorted her into the house.
She was grateful for his presence. They helped with the puppies until nineteen hundred hours.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Isaac asked.
“I’m sure.” She forced a smile. “We’ll be fine.”
He hesitated, clearly not happy, but reluctantly nodded. “See you tomorrow, then.”
“Okay.” She watched him walk away and the minute he was out of sight, regretted her decision.
Later that night, as she slipped into bed, she relived the phone call over and over.
Then she bolted upright in bed as a horrible thought entered her mind. If the caller had been Boyd, how in the world had he gotten her personal cell number?
* * *
The next morning Isaac showed up as promised to escort her to the hospital. Vanessa reluctantly brought Eagle along, hoping it was the right decision to keep the animal inside for her twelve-hour shift. Dogs were not allowed in the intensive care unit, but her boss agreed that she could keep Eagle in the back nurses’ workroom, away from the patients.
Still, it wasn’t easy to concentrate when she was worried about how Eagle was doing.
Halfway through the day, Isaac arrived to take Eagle outside. She gratefully took him into the back room and handed him Eagle’s leash. “Take him for a nice long walk, okay? I feel terrible that he’s cooped up in here with me. It’s not like Boyd is going to attack me while I’m in the middle of the ICU. Last time, he caught me in the hallway alone. Trust me, I won’t make that mistake again.” The more she thought about her agreement to keep Eagle here with her, the more upset she became.
“Okay, how about if I take Eagle back to your place, then bring him back here when your shift is over?” Isaac suggested. “That way he won’t be cooped up back here, and you’ll be safe.”
“That would be great.” She wanted to give Isaac a hug in thanks, but managed to keep herself in check. “If you’re sure it’s not too much of an inconvenience?”
“It’s fine.” He waved off her concern. “You’re finished around nineteen thirty, correct?”
“Yes, but just know that sometimes I don’t get out right away,” she cautioned. “Patient care comes first.”
“Understood. Come on, Eagle, let’s get out of here.” Isaac took the dog’s leash and left the critical care area.
Vanessa downed a quick bite to eat, then returned to her duties. After transferring one patient to the regular floor, she was notified of an impending admission.
A short while later, the ER brought up a young man lying unresponsive on a stretcher, with a breathing tube in his airway.
“Twenty-five-year-old white male found down outside the food services loading dock,” the ER nurse informed her. “Suspected drug overdose, but tox screen is pending.”
Vanessa frowned at the young man. “He looks familiar.”
“Not surprising. His name is Joseph Kramer and he’s a civilian employee working in the housekeeping department. He often cleans right here in the ICU.”
“You’re right, that’s exactly how I know him.” Vanessa began hooking the patient up to the monitor while the respiratory therapist connected him to the ventilator.
“He’s a nice guy,” the ER nurse said, her expression grim. “But it’s not looking good. His shift started at fourteen hundred and he wasn’t found until fifteen thirty.” She shrugged. “No way to know how long he was down. Illegal drugs are really creating havoc in our society these days.”
True, that. Vanessa began to assess her newest patient for herself. She was forced to agree; Joe Kramer’s condition was extremely serious. One of his pupils was blown, and the other wasn’t very reactive upon her exam.
She quickly called the neurosurgeon to let him know of the deterioration of Joe’s neurological status. As she injected the mannitol the doctor ordered to help bring down the swelling in his brain, her ex, Captain Leo Turner, strolled up to the bedside.
“Hi, Vanessa,” he greeted her as if they were still on friendly terms. “I didn’t hear about a new trauma patient being admitted.”
She gritted her teeth and finished giving the medication. “That’s because this patient isn’t a trauma patient. He is being comanaged by pulmonary medicine and neurosurgery.”
“What happened?” Leo asked, oblivious to her discomfort.
“Drug overdose,” she admitted tersely. She dropped the syringe in the sharps container. Then she tucked her stethoscope buds into her ears, effectively shutting him out, and listened once again to her patient’s breath sounds. She didn’t like the way they were diminished in the bases, and wondered if her patient had aspirated while he was lying on the ground. If so, he might have pneumonia brewing.
Leo continued to stand at her patient’s bedside, as if he had no place more important to be. Unfortunately for her, the trauma bay must be quiet this evening.
When she couldn’t delay any longer, she pulled the stethoscope from her ears. She moved away from the bedside, even though her patient was not awake to hear them. “Do you need anything else, Captain Turner?” she asked pointedly.
Leo met her gaze full-on. “Do you want to get together after work?” he asked. “We could head over to Carmen’s for dinner.”
Seriously? Was he out of his mind? Seeking her out at work? Asking her out after she’d caught him cheating on her? Talk about nerve! “No, thank you,” she said politely, even though every instinct in her body wanted to rant and rave at him.
“Vanessa? Line one is the lab. They have a critical value on one of your patients.”
“Excuse me.” Vanessa gratefully latched onto the excuse to leave. She avoided the phone sitting on the desk near Leo in favor of taking the call at the unit secretary’s desk. “This is First Lieutenant Gomez.”
“We have a critical lab value on the drug screen that was sent down an hour ago on Joseph Kramer,” the lab tech informed her. “The amount of Tyraxal in his blood stream is critical at four times the expected level.”
“Four times the expected level,” she repeated as her mind whirled.
This was now the third Tyraxal overdose in the past two weeks.
And why would a civilian janitor be taking Tyraxal anyway?
She’d already called the psychiatrist, Lieutenant Colonel Flintman, once, but he hadn’t gotten back to her yet. She knew the kindly psychiatrist was busy treating patients, such as her brother, but this was important. Obviously, she needed to contact him again.
In her humble opinion, this latest and greatest PTSD medication was causing far more harm than good.
* * *
After bringing Eagle back, Isaac spent the rest of the afternoon with Aiden and the puppies. The kid really seemed to be doing great, and he hoped Vanessa’s brother continued to make good progress.
Although, he knew only too well how easy it was for the nightmares to pop up out of nowhere, holding you hostage in their dark and terror-filled grip.
He did his best to broach the subject of recovering emotionally after combat with Aiden, but the kid didn’t want to discuss it. Refused to even look him in the eye, so Isaac dropped the issue and focused on helping to care for the pups.
At one point, Tango stretched out between him and Aiden, and he’d noticed the young man scratching the therapy dog behind the ears a few times and smiling when Tango licked his fingers.
Hadn’t Vanessa mentioned something about Aiden not connecting with the therapy dog previously assigned to him? Now that Beacon was home, maybe he could convince Westley to shift Tango’s assignment to Aiden.
He made a mental note to broach the subject with the master sergeant once Kyle had discharged Beacon into his care. It would be great to know that Tango’s talents would be used where they were desperately needed.
Aiden cooked a pizza for dinner and afterward, Isaac cleaned up the dishes while Aiden took the pups out for another round of housebreaking.
“Aiden, do you mind if I leave Tango here with you?” Isaac offered Tango’s leash. “I need to take Eagle up to meet your sister so we can walk her home.”
“That’s fine,” Aiden agreed. The younger man met his gaze. “Don’t hurt my sister. She’s been through enough.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask exactly what Aiden meant, but he swallowed the urge. For one thing, Vanessa should be the one to tell him if she was so inclined. And secondly, he didn’t want to encourage her brother to break her trust.
“The last thing I want to do is to hurt Vanessa,” Isaac said. “I’m not looking for a relationship and as far as I know, she’s not, either. We’re friends, okay?”
Her brother didn’t look convinced. “That’s what she said, too.”
Ouch. That stung, more than it should considering he’d just told Aiden the same thing. He forced a smile. “See? We’re both on the same page.”
Isaac took the Doberman’s leash, impressed at how well the dog walked calmly alongside. Considering the animal was trained to protect Vanessa, he’d expected a little trouble.
Maybe all the time they’d spent together over the past few days had smoothed things over. Eagle was already accustomed to having Isaac around.
He timed it so that he arrived at the hospital ICU right at Vanessa’s quitting time. If she had to work later, that was fine; he didn’t mind waiting around for her to finish.
Keeping her safe was all that mattered.
He didn’t have to wait long. Ten minutes later, Vanessa came out of the ICU, swiping at her eyes. It took a second for him to realize she’d been crying.
“What happened?” He stepped closer, eyeing her with concern. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine.” Her facial expression belied her words, especially when her eyes filled with tears.
Watching her silently weep shredded his heart. There had to be something wrong, but what? He instinctively pulled her into his arms, cradling her close. He half expected her to push him away, but she didn’t.
Instead, she wrapped her arms around his waist and sagged against him as if she didn’t have the strength to hold herself upright.
Eagle didn’t like her distress, either, and he kept shoving his nose between them, as if trying to figure out what was wrong.
Vanessa pressed her face against his chest for several minutes before she dragged in a deep breath and lifted her head. “I’m sorry for getting your shirt all wet.”
“Vanessa, my shirt isn’t important, but you are. Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”
She sniffed and swiped at her eyes again, then absently patted Eagle’s head. “I lost a patient, a young man just a few years older than Aiden.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, lightly stroking a hand down her back. “It can’t be easy to lose young patients like that.”
“It’s not just losing them, it’s how we’re losing them.” A flash of anger glittered in her brown eyes. “He died from what the doctors are calling an accidental drug overdose.”
His chest tightened as he remembered how difficult it had been not to succumb to drugs or alcohol after returning from Afghanistan. There was still the rare occasion that he was tempted to shut down the nightmares using artificial means.
“It’s not easy to function when you’re suffering from PTSD.”
“That’s just it.” Vanessa tipped her head back and looked up at him with large red puffy eyes. “This is the third overdose of Tyraxal in the last two weeks, but the patient wasn’t an airman or pilot who’d been in combat. He was a civilian working here in the hospital as a janitor.”
He frowned. “That’s odd.”
“Isn’t it?” Vanessa’s gaze reflected her concern. “And it’s worse because he shouldn’t be taking PTSD meds. Makes me mad to think some guy is selling his prescription to make a few bucks.”
“Maybe you should report this to Justin,” he suggested.
“I will.” Her shoulders slumped. “But that won’t bring Joseph back. If you had seen his mother sobbing at his bedside...” Her voice trailed off and her eyes filled with fat tears. He wanted, needed, to comfort her, so he pulled her close and cradled her against his chest.
And when she lifted her head to look up at him, it took every ounce of willpower he possessed
to fight the insane urge to kiss her.
SIX
Vanessa couldn’t breathe, her lungs seemingly frozen as she stared into Isaac’s incredible green eyes. Every sense was on alert, anticipating his kiss. When he took a step backward, releasing her, she was hit by an acute sense of loss.
She dragged in a deep breath and attempted to pull herself together. Isaac’s embrace had distracted her from what really mattered. This wasn’t about her growing awareness of the tall, sandy-haired and handsome combat pilot, but about the senseless death of a young man.
It was impossible to get the image of Joseph’s mother sobbing at his bedside out of her mind. But she wiped the dampness off her face and squared her shoulders. The young man’s death had hit hard, mostly because she kept thinking about how it would feel to lose Aiden.
There had been times she’d feared her brother would go down that dark and desperate path. Recently, Aiden seemed to be holding his own. Therapy with the base psychiatrist and fostering the puppies were working.
“Ready to walk home?” Isaac held out Eagle’s leash, which she gratefully accepted.
“Yes.” There wasn’t anything more she could do about Joseph Kramer’s death now. She’d left another message with Lieutenant Colonel Flintman to let him know about this latest Tyraxal overdose and the fact that the patient wasn’t even in the Air Force. What she really wanted to know, but doubted the lieutenant colonel would tell her, is which one of his patients might be selling his prescription on the street.
No other explanation as to how Joseph Kramer had gotten the medication made sense.
“I wonder if the Tyraxal that guy had been given was laced with some other drug?” Isaac mused as they walked along the sidewalk. “Maybe a narcotic? For all we know, it could be some concoction put together by that Olio Crime Organization Justin mentioned.”
“It’s possible, but I’d think that drug would have shown up on the toxicology screen, as well.”
“True.” Isaac rubbed the back of his neck. “I still think you need to talk to the captain.”