“That’s correct,” Ethan said.
Gina could barely breathe; she might as well have been back in the mine Harry had taken her into. “Why?”
Ethan stood and walked to the window. He stared outside while the room dipped further into silence. When he returned to his chair, he steepled his fingers under his chin and spoke slowly, as though they were children.
“Every patient who’s accepted into our clinical trials has definitive biomarkers for Alzheimer’s. All have undergone costly testing—spinal taps, positron emission tomography, and on and on. This intense kind of testing costs thousands of dollars for every single individual before they can even become a part of Zelint’s study. And you have to realize, many applicants never become eligible. It’s a costly and highly selective procedure designed to answer specific questions about the safety and effectiveness of the drug designated AZ-1166.”
“All very interesting, Ethan,” Harry said. “But—”
“—but some of this doesn’t make sense, Ethan,” Gina said.
Ethan sat back into his desk chair, leveled his gaze at her and said, “Why would you say that?”
“We all know Zelint is not being altruistic,” Gina said. “There are unbelievable barrels of money to be made if the trials are successful, right?”
“That’s true,” Ethan said. “And even more to be lost if it’s not successful.”
“Then why aren’t these patients receiving AZ-1166 anymore?” she asked.
Ethan shifted in his chair; he couldn’t hide his uneasiness with the question. “There are always some subjects whose response to a test drug … falls outside the protocols of the clinical study. They are considered failures. Simply put, the participants on the second floor are those kinds of failures.”
“Well, what are they doing here?” Gina and Harry said in unison. They gave each other a knowing look.
“They’re being treated for the negative side effects of AZ-1166. Part of Zelint’s contract with the participants is to provide all medical care. We are fulfilling our part of the contract.”
“What kind of side effects?” Gina asked.
“I think all of that will become clear when you read the computerized charts on the floor.” With that, Ethan stood, ending the discussion. “So we’ll see you at seven at the nurses’ station tomorrow morning. And welcome aboard.”
Gina wanted to grab the administrator by the shoulders and shake him until his brain rattled. She and Harry stood and started toward the door.
“Oh, by the way … don’t forget to turn in your personal computers. We’ll hold them for the remainder of your employment at Comstock.”
“What?” Harry said loudly.
“Hey, that’s our property,” Gina added. She felt the bile rising in her throat.
“That’s a helluva lot to ask,” Harry said. “We need to be able to stay in touch with family, friends, and our professional agency.”
Ethan looked from one to the other. There was a hint of a smile.
“Sorry, those are the rules,” he said. “Paragraph three, sub-section B of the disclosure statement you signed today.”
Checkmate.
Chapter 6
They practically flew out of Ethan’s office, caught the elevator to their apartment. Gina’s face was so hot it felt like it was on fire. She headed for the sofa, then changed her mind and paced around the room.
Might as well be back in San Francisco, back at Ridgewood … during the bad times.
The hospital administrator there had done his best to try to get her fired before the two of them finally made peace. If it hadn’t been for the nurses’ union, Gina would have been out the door.
Gina had a reputation for not being silent when bad things were happening to patients, particularly patients under her care. Most recently, she’d risked her life when she discovered her Oncology patients’ treated and stored bone marrow had been stolen and was being held for ransom. Those cancer patients would have died without their treated cells, and the hospital had proved to be more worried about its reputation than in finding the perpetrators.
Did it even matter where she worked? Hospital? Clinic? Freelance? Administrators seemed determined to put her down for trying to do what was best for her patients.
I’ll bet Ethan will be no exception.
Weren’t hospital administrators supposed to be patient advocates, too? Wasn’t that their priority? Maybe not their only concern, but it had to at least be somewhere high up on the list.
Well, sorry. I’ll do what I have to do to protect my patients, even if it means hanging out like a big, fat pimple ready to pop.
“My head is spinning … I’ve got to get out of here,” she said to Harry. “Let’s go for a walk before it gets dark.”
“Slow down, babe,” Harry said. “You know we’ll work it out.”
They stepped into the elevator. She looked up at one of the security cameras—its probing eye looked right back at her. She bit down on her lip and decided she would keep her thoughts to herself until they were outside the building.
The elevator stopped at the second floor. Rocky was waiting with an elderly lady in a wheelchair. He hesitated for only a moment before he wheeled her into the elevator.
“How’s it going?” Harry said.
The man barely nodded. He was definitely uneasy about being in this confined space with them even though it was roomy enough to carry two full-size hospital beds.
The old woman was worrying a locket at the end of a long chain around her neck. She kept turning it with her gnarled fingers and seemed to have no interest in her surroundings. She was in pain—that was pretty obvious. With every movement the lines in her face deepened. Gina reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind the woman’s ear.
The patient looked up with dark, troubled eyes and suddenly grabbed Gina’s hand. The movement made her thin shoulders shiver. “Help me, nurse. Please help me.”
Gina crouched down to eye level. “What’s your name?”
“Emma. Emma Goldmich.”
Rocky wrenched their hands apart and stepped between them. The patient screamed; globs of drool ran down her chin.
“Hey, man. There’s no need for that,” Harry said, his voice low and menacing. But the orderly ignored him.
Gina was stunned into silence. She glared at Rocky; thrust her balled fists into her pockets. At the ground floor, they waited for Rocky to push the patient out first. Maybe he was taking her to the laboratory or one of the other diagnostic areas on the first floor. Instead, he waved a hand, waited for Gina and Harry to step out.
The patient looked at them. “Help me! Help me call Tuva!”
Before they could respond, the door slammed shut.
* * * *
Rocky was rattled. He smashed a knuckle into the second floor elevator button again, and then again, stared down the two nurses, who looked at him with puzzled expressions until the sliding door slammed shut in their faces.
“Rocky,” Emma Goldmich said, her pleading eyes looking up into his. She clutched the arms of her wheel chair. “You promised to give me medicine.” She started bawling, blubbered out the words. “Help me. My bones hurt! I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it!”
The orderly hated the old woman. Her trembling hands were like claws as they reached up to him, and her eyes were crazed like a wild, trapped animal.
It’s her fault that he was in trouble now.
He couldn’t stop himself. He slapped her cheek and said in a low guttural voice, “Shut up! You hear me? Shut the fuck up!”
She whimpered and bent over, rocked back and forth, back and forth, a low hum coming from somewhere down deep in her throat. When the door flung open, he shoved the chair out and down the hallway to the nurses’ station.
Delores Scott was studying her watch, probably counting the hours until she could escape. She looked up at Rocky. “I thought Emma was being discharged? I’ve already packed up her things. What’s going on?
”
“Delayed.”
“I’m glad we didn’t redo her room.”
“Yeah.”
Emma continued to rock and moan, which was creeping him out. He squeezed his hands together to keep from smacking her again. “I’ll take her back to her room, but she needs meds for the pain, or she’s gonna be screaming.”
Delores shrugged, reached into her pocket, and retrieved the keys for the narcotics cabinet.
* * * *
Rocky stood outside Ethan Dayton’s office, planning what he was going to say. He couldn’t let Ethan think Petey and him were pushovers, that he could shove them out the door. Their prison records weren’t going to be the man’s ace-in-the-hole.
If the dude thinks he can get rid of us that easy, he don’t know dog shit.
But Emma Goldmich—she’d been a real screw-up.
Oh, yeah!
One thing for sure, he and Petey were never going back to that pen in Carson City. They’d done their time, hard time for a botched up B&E. It may have given him a body of steel but it also left him with a reamed out ass. He’d rather die than be tossed into that hell-hole again.
But that’s not gonna happen. Me and Petey know too much about what goes on here for ole Dr. Ethan to just toss us out.
Besides, he liked this job, and there were not too many good slots around for ex-cons.
He finally knocked on the door and waited.
“Come in!” Ethan was seated at his desk. He smiled, but his gaze was cold and suspicious.
Rocky closed the door behind him. “There’s been a problem.”
“Oh?”
“Emma Goldmich is back in her room.”
“What?”
“The new RNs were in the elevator when I was taking her down. Emma told them her name.”
Ethan jumped up and leaned over his desk. He was practically in Rocky’s face. “Even an idiot would have known not to get on the elevator with those new nurses.”
“Hey! It couldn’t be helped. It all happened so fast. I couldn’t think—”
“Of course you couldn’t think. Does an ex-con even have a brain?”
Good thing it’s me dealing with this asshole instead of Pete. He would have freaked.
“They won’t know anything. I took Emma back to her room.”
“Well halleluiah for small favors. Now get the hell out of here.”
Rocky stood his ground and stared at Ethan for a moment before turning away.
Don’t push me too far, old man.
* * * *
Gina laced her arm into Harry’s, dragged him through the lobby and out through the front door.
“Maybe it would be faster if you carried me,” Harry said. “What’s this about?”
“Sorry. I was afraid you’d say something and they would hear us.”
“Dammit, Gina, we have no proof that our conversations are being bugged. Three months of this kind of tension is going to tear us apart.”
“Wait a minute, Harry. That’s not true. How did they know we’d be at the second floor exit door earlier today if they hadn’t overheard our conversation?”
“It could have been a coincidence. Or maybe they saw us in the security cameras.”
Gina looked at the diminishing light—the sun was low in the sky, making it eerie to walk down the road in the shadows of the rocks.
“Okay, why didn’t Rocky get off the elevator?” she said. “Where was he going with that woman, Emma Goldmich? There’s nothing for a patient on the third floor. So what was that about?”
Harry looked away.
“That patient in the elevator, how did she know I was a nurse? I’m not in scrubs.”
“Hell, Gina, you look like a nurse in or out of scrubs. It’s who you are.”
“But she was in so much pain … and she was scared to death.”
Sudden weariness washed over her. She’d had it. The whole day had been overwhelming. She walked over to the side of the road and onto the sandy terrain. When she was smack up against the nearest boulder, she leaned back and tugged at the sparse needles of a stray juniper that had fought its way through a large crack in the granite. She would not move any farther until they straightened this out.
He stood still and stared at her.
“Harry, don’t just stand there. Say something, for God’s sake. We need to talk this out.”
His voice was soft and calm, but his body looked tense and wired. “Hey, Gina!” He gave her a weird smile. “Listen to me very carefully, and no matter what I say, don’t jump. Okay?”
“This is ridiculous, Harry. What are you talking about?”
“Do not move! There’s a rattlesnake near your foot.”
Her heart sped up double-time, pounded so hard it felt like her whole body was throbbing. It took all of her self-control to stand stock-still while she allowed her eyes to wander downward. Her feet seemed to have a life of their own and were straining to run.
A foot or so away, a gray diamondback was coiled and staring right where her leg was quavering under her pants.
“It’s all right. Just stay put; it won’t bite you if you don’t scare it.”
“Scare it? It’s scaring the hell out of me!” She wanted to be funny and laugh this off, but her mouth was so dry it felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls.
First tarantulas, now rattlesnakes. What’s next, Komodo dragons?
“Harry, I don’t think I can stand here much longer.”
“Hang on, babe. I promise he’ll move on soon.”
But he didn’t. She watched his vibrating tongue and beady eyes. They seemed to be watching both her leg and Harry edging in closer and closer.
“Try to relax, doll. Think of our trip to Italy three months from now.”
She closed her eyes but all she could visualize was that evil-looking snake with its long teeth loaded like syringes. She started counting, forced herself to say each numeral very slowly. When she got to twenty, she opened her eyes.
Harry held a long stick. With quick movements he jabbed it under the snake and tossed it into the air. It landed about ten feet away, stretched itself out, slithered off, and disappeared between the black shadows of the boulders.
“Oh, my God!” Her stomach was resting somewhere near her knees.
Harry ran and pulled her into his arms. “You were fantastic! I’m so proud of you.”
Her heart wouldn’t stop pounding in her ears. Her legs gave way.
She grabbed Harry around the waist, squeezed hard, and held on until she could stand on her own two legs.
* * * *
The elevator ride back to their apartment was smothered in silence. The minute they were inside, Gina stepped out of her clothes and raced to the bathroom. Her face was covered in tears and she couldn’t stop trembling. She flung open the shower door and spun the faucets until the water was gushing freely and the steam was thick enough to make her stabbing headache start to ease.
Why am I here? What am I doing in this strange place? Everything feels disconnected and lonely. I don’t want to be here—especially not for three months.
The hot water was like soft, electric needles jabbing at her body. Her chest was so heavy she could barely breathe. Wild, disconnected thoughts fired in her brain.
Love defeats me, make me do things I don’t want to do. Why couldn’t I let Harry go off by himself? I could have stayed in San Francisco, allowed myself time to think; worked out the misery of the past few months. Did I really need him so desperately that I had to follow him to a place so alien everything inside of me is screaming: Turn around, run?
And I’m still here. I need to let this man go.
Why can’t I let go?
She poured a puddle of shampoo into her hand, rubbed it through matted strands, and scrubbed hard to wash away her negative thoughts and the scary happenings of the day.
Music filtered through the pounding water. Harry had turned on their iPod; through the heavy splatter she recognized the mellow jazz of Cliffo
rd Alden. The plaintive sounds of Eleanor Rigby grounded her, made her feel calmer. She closed her eyes and leaned against the stall, hummed along with the music until her hands stopped shaking.
She opened her eyes when she felt Harry slip in beside her. His strong arms drew her to him and he murmured soft, disconnected words of comfort. Bathed in silky soap, their naked flesh rode, slid against each other while tiny water fingers caressed them. His hands were everywhere, drifting down her back, onto her hips, around her thighs, between her legs. Puffs of steam rolled into her lungs. Words were lost when his tongue slid down her neck, onto her breasts, causing fiery tentacles of heat to curl through her groin. When his lips smothered hers, the steel vice that had squeezed her chest finally relaxed, and she knew she was safe again.
“I’m sorry for being such a wuss today.”
“Shh! That was some weird shit out there. And this is new for you. It’s okay to be scared. I was scared, too.”
His voice was filled with passion, but at the same time soft and kind. She knew he loved her, and she loved him, but could she totally surrender, really share all her fears and allow him inside, allow him to settle in her heart?
* * * *
Gina wouldn’t let Harry touch the pasta sauce. She said, in her best fake Italian accent, “Keepa da hands away froma my pasta.” She held a wooden spoon like a sword and waved it through the air, aiming for his midsection.
Each time he tried to mix or taste the sauce, she ground a hip into him until he finally said, “You do that one more time and that robe is coming off.”
She leered at him wickedly. “You and what army?”
He grabbed her and held her up in the air. “Just because you’re tall doesn’t mean you can’t be tamed.”
“Mmmmm. Maybe we’d better eat now, Mr. Lucke, before we forget about dinner and everything gets cold.” When he set her down, she tousled his long, curly hair and gazed into his soft blue eyes.
The small kitchen area was efficiently designed and well equipped. It had pretty much everything they needed, making it fun to cook in a new place. She poured the pasta into the colander and divided it onto their plates before spooning out the thick marinara sauce while he set out the basket of bread and lit the candles on the tiny dining room table.
Bone Pit: A Chilling Medical Suspense Thriller (The Gina Mazzio Series Book 3) Page 4