by CJ Lyons
He blew out his breath. “But, unless I find something reversible like a medication reaction, it will end her future as a cop.”
CHAPTER 18
Kate spent most of the day trying to sleep, a vain attempt to escape her memories of Conrad’s bloody face and her midnight visitor. Every time she began to fall into that precious realm of deep slumber, someone else would come along to disturb her. First it was the X-ray. Then the nurse taking her vitals. Then a resident, not Adams thank God, stripped the tape and half her skin from the area beside her left breast and took the chest tube out. She had to admit a tinge of disappointment that Lightner hadn’t come himself.
Lunch came—if yellow jello and soggy toast and a bland piece of chicken could properly be called a lunch. She yearned for a cheese steak dripping with onions or a mound of greasy fries from The Original.
The nurse returned, took her bladder catheter out and changed her IV so she wasn’t tied to the pole. Free at last.
Finally, she fell asleep. When she woke it was dark outside, and there was someone sitting in the chair opposite her. Carter, his face buried in a Sporting Times.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Glad to see you back with us.” Carter looked up. “It’s six fifteen.”
“What are you doing here? You should be off duty.”
“This is my duty. You’d better behave yourself, or I won’t let you have the get well present the boys sent over.” He looked at her over the gold rims of his glasses, then reached down under the chair and brought up a brown paper bag. As he opened it a tantalizing aroma filled the room.
“Golden Wok carry-out.” She took a deep breath, feeling revived by the scent of real food. “You wouldn’t believe what passes for food around here.”
“I can imagine.” He pulled the tray over to her and began to set the food out.
“I don’t suppose you brought any beer to wash it down with?” she asked hopefully.
“Oh didn’t I? One bottle of Yuengling coming up—but only one. You’re out of practice, remember?” He opened the beer, then the soup container and set up the utensils so that she could reach everything with her good hand.
Kate crammed a forkful of the chicken into her mouth followed by a swallow of beer. “Ummm,” she sighed. Nothing better in this world than Chinese food and a good beer. “Thanks. You guys are the best.”
The door opened, and Lightner entered, wearing scrubs and his white lab coat, a surgical mask dangling around his neck. He stopped, looked at her in surprise. Kate clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from spitting her food as she laughed at his shocked expression. Carter swore under his breath and quickly took his chair again, hiding his face behind his newspaper.
“What’s going on in here?” Lightner demanded. “I don’t recall lomein being on the soft diet. And beer? Do you have any idea how that can interact with the medications?”
Damn. Kate swallowed her mouthful of food and looked up meekly. “No sir.”
Lightner looked at her, the same look he had given Adams the night before. “No, I didn’t expect so. And do you know what’s worse?”
She shook her head.
“You didn’t invite me, after I stayed up all night because of you. Give me those chopsticks.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and scooped lomein with expertise. Kate and Carter exchanged glances, then Carter put his paper down again and moved his chair closer.
“I think I like this guy,” he said. “You sure he’s a doctor?”
“Supposedly he’s the surgeon who saved my life,” Kate replied.
Lightner glanced up from his food. “Supposed heck, I wrenched you from the jaws of death, or however the old cliché goes.”
“Carter was my first partner when I was a rookie,” Kate told Lightner. “Taught me everything I know.”
“Except when to duck,” Lightner said dryly. She reached for her beer, but he intercepted it. “I was serious about the beer.” He handed the Yuengling to Carter. “I take it since you’re here, they haven’t found this creep yet?”
Carter shook his head. “No, but when we do, I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes. This actor will be lucky if he makes it to trial alive.”
“Carter, stop talking like that. Dr. Lightner is going to think all us cops are a bunch of fascist pigs,” Kate interjected.
“Don’t take me seriously, doc. If anything this player will be given kid-glove treatment. Still, what he did to Conrad—ambushed. Then taking the time to get a second shot in, all the while knowing that bar was filled with cops. That’s one cold-hearted son of a bitch, if you ask me.”
Kate glanced at the detective in surprise. It was unlike him to be so talkative, especially with someone not on the job.
“Just so you guys catch him soon. I don’t like the idea of having patients of mine threatened in their own hospital rooms,” Lightner said.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get him. I promise you that nothing’s gonna to happen while I’m around.”
“I’m holding you to that promise.”
Kate looked up, irritated at being treated like a child, but forgot her comment when she saw the look on Lightner’s face. His eyes had darkened and flashed with fury. Maybe the trauma surgeon did have some human feelings beneath his patronizing bedside manner. It had felt that way this morning.
She still wasn’t totally certain if that was a good thing or not.
Kate fell asleep, cradled by their voices and the warmth of her first real meal settling in her stomach. When she woke the room was dark except for a thin sliver of light that reflected from the open door off Carter’s glasses.
“Carter, that you?” she asked in a low voice.
The detective shifted in his seat and grunted in affirmation. “Who else?”
“What time is it?”
“About three in the morning.”
“What are you still doing here?”
“Pulling a double, switched so I could maybe have the weekend off.”
“Oh.” Silence again enveloped the tiny room. She could hear footsteps in the hallway. She tensed, suddenly certain that the shooter was out there, waiting for her, but the sounds continued past her door. Kate lay back on her pillows and closed her eyes again. She opened them almost immediately, her mind too crowded with racing thoughts to allow sleep.
“Carter?”
“I’m still here,” he replied.
“You ever afraid?”
He lowered the chair with a thump. “What kind of damn fool question is that? Every good cop is afraid at times—that’s usually what keeps them alive.”
“Rob was a good cop.”
He sighed. “Yes, he was.”
“And so was Conrad.”
Silence.
“So, how come they’re both dead and I’m still alive?”
“Listen kid, I’ve seen this happen before, hell, it’s happened to me. Your friend gets killed, and you start thinking that you’re glad it wasn’t you, then you start feeling guilty ‘cause we’re told that nice people don’t think like that. I’m glad it wasn’t me and I’m glad it wasn’t you. I’m sorry to lose two good cops like Rob and Conrad, but our time will come soon enough, so there’s no use wasting what time we have on guilt or regrets.” He paused, then tilted his chair back against the wall again. “I’ve said enough, and you’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“Thanks Carter.”
He grunted in reply.
CHAPTER 19
Josh harried and pushed his residents, rushing through rounds. He saw the looks they exchanged, knew they thought it was because it was Friday, but they were wrong. He was haunted by O’Hern’s suggestion that she be used as a decoy to trap the killer.
He finally knew what he needed to do. Hated it, despised himself for playing with his ethics and all rules of conduct that bound a physician, but he had no other choice.
He found Carter getting a fresh coffee refill from the pot at the nurses’ station across from Kate’s room. Th
e detective had obviously charmed the staff, they were chuckling at one of his tales of life as a street cop.
“So this punk,” he was saying when Josh entered, “he says, ‘yunz can’t bust me for the Giant Eagle robbery, cuz I’ve got an alibi. I was over in Homewood busting a cap in Jimmy G-dog cuz he was shagging my bitch.’”
“He confessed to murder?” one of the nurses asked, shaking her head.
“No one ever said this guy was a criminal genius.”
Josh caught Carter’s eye, nodded to the hallway. The detective wrapped up his story, made a little bow to his audience. “Thanks for the coffee, ladies. You all have a good day, now.”
He joined Josh in the alcove near the janitor’s closet. “What’s up, doc? There a problem with our girl?”
Josh tried to pace in the narrow space but it was too small. Instead he ended up leaning against one wall, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He caught the detective studying him and stopped. “What you guys were talking about the other night. Using her as bait to catch the killer, would you actually consider doing that?”
“No worries, doc. We’d never do anything like that here where there are civilians at risk. But if it came down to it, it might be our best bet.”
“You can’t.” There, he’d said it.
“Why not? You said yourself Kate was healing faster than you ever expected. And we’d never expect her to physically subdue the guy or anything.” He slouched against the opposite wall, his body relaxed but his gaze a tight spotlight focused on Josh.
Seeing right through him, Josh was certain. He leaned his head back against the wall, closed his eyes for a moment.
“What’s wrong with Kate? What aren’t you telling me, doc?”
“I could lose my license, maybe even get sued.” Weak excuses compared to the greater sin of breaking his oath of confidentiality.
“She wouldn’t do that. Kate would never sue the guy who saved her life.” Carter stepped forward, into Josh’s space. His stance was nonchalant, joking even, but his eyes were dead serious. “C’mon, doc. If there’s something going on with Kate, I need to know. I partnered with her old man, promised him I’d look after her. I’ve been her rabbi—”
“Rabbi?”
“You know, mentor.” Carter’s mouth widened into a coaxing smile. “Spiritual advisor. So…anything you say to me is under the confidential seal of the confessional. Privileged.”
Josh appreciated Carter trying to make it easy for him. But it was still a betrayal. Of the rules, of everything he believed in, of Kate’s trust.
“Do all cops bend the rules so easily?”
Carter shrugged. “When you’re out on the streets you learn there’s a lot of gray zone between what the law says and what’s right. So if you know something that might hurt Kate, I need to know about it.”
“You can’t let her act as bait, you can’t let her do anything where she might be face to face with the killer again.” Josh paused, had to swallow twice. Carter waited. He continued, “She’s having these spells, they might be a type of absence seizure, I’m not sure, but when she does, she blacks out for several minutes at a time. When she wakes up, she’s convinced she’s seeing visions of the future.”
Carter pursed his mouth as if he were whistling but no sound came. He moved closer to Josh, they were almost head to head now. “You’re saying Kate O’Hern actually thinks she can see the future? That she’s gone round the bend? No. No way, doc. Not O’Hern. She’s the most practical, steady cop I know. I’d trust her with my life—hell, I have trusted her with my life. More than once.”
“It’s the truth. She told me she saw what happened to Sergeant Conrad before it happened. And she said she saw an old lady die in the ICU before it really happened.”
“No, no. I don’t buy it. Whatever is wrong with her, you guys have got to fix it. Whatever it takes. I mean, doc, that’s crazy talk. Something’s messed up in her head and you have to make it right again.”
“I wish it were that easy. So far she’s refused to allow me to do any tests. I wanted to give her a little time, let the drugs we gave her get out of her system—”
“Yeah, a side effect of the drugs,” Carter said, nodding. “That’s all. Happens all the time, right?”
“No. Not like this. The drugs should be long gone, but she’s still persisting in these delusions.”
“And she blacks out when she has one?”
“Yes, for a few minutes. She looks like she’s awake, eyes open, but she’s not responsive.”
“Makes her a sitting duck.” He inhaled deeply, his chest expanding but his shoulders hunching under the weight of this new burden. “I’m glad you told me, doc. I’ll keep an eye out for her. Any chance these things will go away? Work themselves out of her system or something?”
“I can’t tell until I can do more testing. But this may be something permanent. I’m sorry, Carter. She was down too long.”
Carter took a step back, hands jammed into his pockets, gaze downcast. “S’allright, doc. You did the best you could.”
Josh watched him walk away, wishing that his best had been better. Wished his best had been good enough to bring Kate O’Hern back to her old life.
Carter’s chair was empty when Kate woke. Pale November sunlight strained to break through the clouds and into her room. She lay still for a few moments, gathering her strength, then slowly sat up and swung her legs around the side of the bed. She sat there, blood rushing into her feet, enjoying the sensation.
It felt good to feel anything, even the deep throbbing ache that grumbled through her muscles when she pushed herself upright. She held onto the bed rail, a little dizzy, but determined to make it to the bathroom without assistance.
It took her longer to go those few steps than it would have to run a mile before the shooting, but it was worth it. For the first time since that night a week before, Kate hoped there might be a chance her life could return to normal.
She flushed the toilet and was shuffling back into her room when her door opened. Glen Walters stood there, looking embarrassed as he saw everything the gown didn’t cover.
“Hi, Glen.” Kate allowed herself a small smile at his discomfort.
“Good to see you up and around, Kate,” he said, his gaze darting around the room, avoiding meeting hers. Just like Juan had yesterday, as if she was more than a victim but still less than a cop.
She noted the black band wrapped around his badge, frowned and turned away, opening the closet door. Michael had brought a few clothes over from her apartment. Her uniform and everything else she’d been wearing last week were long gone on their journey through the forensic maze. But her shield was there, sitting on a shelf with some sweat pants and socks. Carter’s work, no doubt. Kate brushed her fingers over the thin piece of metal, wondering it she would ever be able to wear it again.
Inside the drawer she found underwear and a T-shirt that looked as if it would fit over her bandages and the bulky sling that enveloped her left shoulder and arm.
“Don’t mind me,” she told Glen. “Just trying to turn myself back into a person instead of the patient in room 323. It may take me a few minutes to get dressed, I’m out of practice.”
Glen turned his back as she perched on the edge of the chair and began to struggle into her pants. It was awkward with one hand and a back so stiff she could barely reach to pull them up. Her pulse was racing by the time she finished getting underwear and sweat pants on. That wasn’t even the hard part—the T-shirt came next.
“Kate,” Glen began in a hesitant voice. “I was wondering-”
“Uh huh,” she grunted as she struggled to untie her gown.
“Hernandez told me you seemed to know something about Conrad’s death before—I mean, well, he seemed to think—and then I heard your doc talking to Carter when I came on duty this morning-”
“I don’t know what you heard, but you heard it wrong,” she snapped, forgetting about the gown once she realized where he was headed.
“I don’t have any answers, Glen,” she told him in a slow, determined voice.
“Why not, Kate? We’re friends, can’t you tell me what’s gonna happen to me? You got no idea how it can eat away at a man’s soul, that look in Susie’s eyes every time I leave for work, not knowing if I’m gonna come back.”
“Stop it.” Kate couldn’t believe this. She’d ridden with Glen, for chrissake. And now he stared at her as if she was some kind of freak. How long would it be before everyone at the House knew about her visions? “Susie knew what she was getting into when she married you. She’s a good woman. You’ve got to stop worrying about her and start keeping your mind on your job.”
“Please, Kate—”
“No!” She lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”
He turned to leave. The door opened, and Lightner strolled in, his white coat looking as bright as a halo around him.
“What’s all the commotion?” he asked.
“I’ll be right outside,” Glen said, looking at the floor.
Kate ignored Lightner and floundered out of her gown.
“You’re looking better today,” he said in a fake-cheery voice that was annoying as hell.
She narrowed her eyes in a glare and resumed her struggles with her sling.
“Let me help.” He loosened the Velcro swath that held her left arm in place. “Take this off and put it back on over top of your clothes.”
He reached for her shirt, but Kate pulled away, staring into the mirror on the cabinet door. What had they done to her? Pink, heaped up, healing flesh bristling with ugly black stitches crisscrossed her left side. There was a star-shaped scar below her collar bone and a similar one a little lower, above her breast. A long line of stitches wove under her breast to her sternum and two shorter ones were on her side, below her armpit.
Freak was right. Inside and out. No wonder everyone stared. Kate quickly grabbed her shirt and slid her left arm into it. Then she ducked her head through the neck hole and wriggled her other arm into place.