Devil May Care

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Devil May Care Page 13

by Patricia Eimer


  “And the niece?” I asked, connecting the dots on the path he’d laid out for me. Medical care was expensive. Especially in a place like the pediatric intensive care unit.

  “Emily Cosgrove.”

  “I remember her. Nine years old. She had a seizure during a community league soccer game. They found a brain tumor the size of a grapefruit attached to the back of her brain. Due to its placement, it was considered inoperable. ”

  He pulled a folded up piece of paper from his inside jacket pocket and I looked down at the little girl staring back at me in the obituary. The picture was so much better than my memories of her. I instantly felt relieved—Harold hadn’t been her physician. He had signed over her care to Dr. Woo since she had a specialty in pediatric oncology. They couldn’t connect Harold to the drugs or the people that may have stolen them. That meant there was no way to connect his death to the stolen drugs. So all those nasty rumors I knew Sally had been spreading would be put to rest and Harold could be remembered as an amazing doctor whose life had been cut short; not as a monster who had stolen pain medications from dying kids.

  I studied the picture again and my relief disappeared. If we gave Harold any say in the matter I knew he’d tell us to let it go. Let him take the blame and leave the Cosgroves to mourn in peace. Because, the thing is, he was the type of doctor who’d have willingly given her family the drugs and never said a thing about it if that morphine could have somehow saved her. Which was all the more reason for me to find a way to make sure his memory wasn’t dragged through the mud because of this. Then I’d get on the phone to J and see what could be done for Emily’s family, and her ghost for that matter. He’d know how to make sure she was taken care of properly.

  “Yeah.” Dan began picking at his thumbnail, refusing to meet my eyes. “I found that in her medical records. Sounded like it was Hell on Earth for everyone involved.”

  “She didn’t go easily and, now that I think about it, Dr. Cosgrove was a pacer. Bernice said he drove her nuts.”

  “A pacer?”

  “While his daughter was asleep, he’d pace. He could never sit still. He used to go up and down the halls a dozen times, not bothering anyone. Just pacing. A lot of parents are that way. Which means the hallway in PICU becomes a walking track between two and four a.m.”

  “So he’d pace the halls, and no one would pay him any attention because he did it every night?” Dan took my hand in his. Sharp jolts of human energy, and more than a little longing for the past, coursed through my fingers and I thought about pulling away from him, but the way he held my hand wasn’t meant to be romantic. It was a simple need for human connection.

  “Every night. Every day. Every time she was having a treatment. I know for a fact he lost at least twenty pounds while she was there. The wife was more withdrawn.”

  “But I don’t understand.” Dan took a drink of his water, pulling his hand away from mine. “Why steal morphine? What possessed them to start selling pharmaceutical grade drugs for cash?”

  “Hospitals cost money and they had a sick little girl so they were desperate. When people are desperate they do very, very stupid things.” I drank from my own water, using the move as an excuse to shift further away from him.

  “I guess.” Dan grabbed my hand again, clinging to it like I could somehow make this right. Meanwhile all I could think when he tightened his fingers around mine was that if Matt walked in right now there’d be no way to convince him that this wasn’t what it looked like.

  “But it seems like such a waste,” Dan continued. “In the end it didn’t do them any good. If there wasn’t any hope to begin with…”

  “If Emily was on the PICU unit, she was still alive,” I said, feeling vulnerable just talking about the harsher realities of my job. “And the one thing I’ve learned, if absolutely nothing else in this line of work, is that where there is life, there’s hope. Any nurse in my position will tell you, you don’t give up fighting until there isn’t any hope left.”

  “So you think they did it, hoping that because she hadn’t died yet she might what? Somehow pull through? Do you think they were that—” Dan pulled our linked hands into his lap and instead of letting him, I pulled away.

  “Delusional?” I shifted to the other side of the couch, putting as much room between us as possible. “Absolutely. When you’re dealing with sick kids that’s how you have to be. As long as those kids are alive and still fighting then so is everyone else around them. You don’t for one single second even think about the fact you might not beat death. Once they’ve died you can lose your shit but until they’re dead you keep your head down and you keep doing whatever it takes to keep them alive.”

  “Losing your shit? Is that what you call slamming your car into a tree on an empty road? Because right now I call that a tragedy brought to you by the combined forces of cancer and the American health care crisis.” He grabbed another piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and tossed it at me. It was the front page of the Washington Chronicle, the local newspaper for Emily Cosgrove’s hometown.

  LOCAL COUPLE KILLED IN SINGLE CAR ACCIDENT

  Beneath the headline was a picture of the entire Cosgrove family that looked like it had been taken during a family get together, along with a brief article that explained how Dr. and Mrs. Cosgrove’s car had veered off a curvy local road and hit a tree Tuesday. Police believed they might have swerved to avoid a deer in the road. Or at least that was what everyone was agreeing to say.

  I shifted on the couch, unable to get comfortable while my heart broke over what the Cosgrove family had gone through. I knew for a fact that we’d reduced the grief counseling staff at Rogers to only two counselors and they were both overworked. Regardless, someone should have seen the warning signs when it came to the Cosgroves. Someone should have cared about how desperate they were. The problem was, as a nurse I didn’t have time to help their daughter and take care of them, too.

  “What are you going to do?” I grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to my chest so that I didn’t instinctively scoot closer to the man I’d once been in love with.

  “I’ll go back to Rogers and finish updating your systems. Then I’ll gather my documentation and hand it over to the hospital administration and MEDTECH upper management. The rest is up to them.” He set the paper down, tapping his fingers against Beth Cosgrove’s face.

  “So why did you come to me?”

  “You seemed like the only other person who would see how much this sucked. The only other person who would care more about these people’s death than you would about the fact they broke the law. I don’t know why I thought that but—”

  He looked up at me through his eyelashes and all I could think about was how vulnerable he was. The Dan I’d known had been a smart guy but he’d always sort of had this naïve belief in the natures of good and evil. He was what Malachi had always called one of those “silver lining idiots.” To see that sometimes, in some cases, there just wasn’t a silver lining, or a miracle, or someone to save the day had to hurt.

  “I do,” I said. “I do get it.”

  Instead of answering, he grabbed the side of my face and crushed his lips to mine, kissing me like he was looking for some sort of truth that could be found in the pressure of his lips against mine.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  He pushed his tongue into my mouth and I jerked backward, brought my hand back, and smacked him as hard as I could. The crack of my palm against his cheek echoed through the apartment.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I jumped off the couch and glowered at him. I knew the guy was suffering from a whole fallen-mentor-vulnerability-of-life moment but that didn’t mean he needed to invade my personal space and make my resolve weaken to keep things professional between us. Which was a bad thing, not just because of Matt, but because in the end I couldn’t be the one to fix the pain Dan was feeling. Not without hurting him worse.

  “You come over here, tell me that two people with a dead child stole my morphin
e, then killed themselves, and then you decide that’s a good time to make out with me? Are you insane?” I shifted from one foot to another and tried to keep anger coursing through my veins so I could keep being irrational about his moment of weakness and get him out of here for both of our sakes.

  “I’m sorry.” He stood and ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t intend to do that. You have a boyfriend and I respect that.”

  “Yeah, well respect that by keeping your face at least a foot from mine, because your lips haven’t gotten the memo.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. You should leave.”

  “Right.” Dan sighed and nodded. “Sorry again. If the Pittsburgh Police call, trying to get under your skin, or they try to get you to link yourself to this in any way—”

  “Why would they do that? There’s no connection between me and the Cosgroves.”

  “True, but when I talked to that guy in charge of the case…what’s his name?”

  “Detective Kastellero.” My heart started to pound and sweat trickled down my spine just at the mention of the guy’s name.

  “Yeah, Kastellero.” Dan rolled his eyes as he said the detective’s name. “When I talked to him he seemed all fired up that you had to be a part of this. If he comes to see you get a lawyer, and no matter what he says, there is no evidence connecting you to this break in.”

  “If he contacts me I’ll make sure I take my boyfriend with me to the station.” I held my arm out, motioning toward the front door. “Matt’s a lawyer, He’ll have no problems handling Kastellero.”

  “Matt the Lawyer. Sounds intimidating.” Dan walked to my door.

  “He can be, if you piss him off.” I grabbed the door handle and pulled it open.

  He grabbed his helmet and stuck it under his arm before sticking his hand out for me to shake, not meeting my eyes. “So I’ll see you at the training tomorrow?”

  “Of course.” I shook his hand. “I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my day off than sitting in a classroom with fifty other people, discussing computer software. Can you?”

  “That sounds like my own personal version of Heaven,” Dan said. “And I’m sorry about kissing you. If you tell your boyfriend make sure you put all the blame on me. ”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I waved a hand at him in what I hoped looked like a dismissive gesture. “Like I said, he’s a good guy…for a cage fighter with homicidal tendencies.”

  “Good to know. I’d hate to have to hurt him,” Dan continued. “Those mixed martial arts guys always get so touchy about things after they get their asses kicked.”

  “You keep telling yourself that.” I stepped forward, crowding him. Sure, he was sweet for trying to stick up for me but I’d dealt with a depressed ghost, several cranky nephilim, the Devil, and my mother today. Testosterone-based posturing was not how I intended to end my afternoon. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the training.”

  “Nine sharp,” Dan said.

  “What’s at nine sharp?” Matt stepped onto the landing and looked between the two of us. Oh shit. Why did I have a feeling that this was going to be a lot harder to explain than I’d first expected?

  “Training for work.” Dan gave Matt the once over and then shrugged, clearly not believing the part about the mixed martial arts. Which goes to show that no matter how book-smart a man might be sometimes he could be a lousy judge of character. “I’ll see you then, Faith.”

  “Bye.” I watched him brush past Matt.

  “Coworker?” Matt asked once Dan had disappeared, turning to follow the other man’s departure with curious eyes. He raised an eyebrow in my direction.

  “MEDTECH software engineer,” I corrected. “He’s in updating our systems.”

  Matt watched Dan disappear down the stairs and then leaned against my doorjamb, his face skeptical. “He felt the need to make a house call?”

  “He had some information about the MEDTECH incident last month.” I twisted my fingers together, silently debating how much I should tell him about the whole situation. Especially considering we were standing in the middle of the hallway. “They’ve found the culprits.”

  “Oh.” He nodded, slipping immediately into lawyer mode—which was way sexier than it should have been, given the circumstances. “So does he expect us to be talking with Detective Kastellero soon about your nursing staff?”

  “He thinks I might have to do a follow up conversation with the Detective but there’s no link to the nursing staff so I should be fine. The medication was stolen by one of the patient’s families.” I leaned against the opposite side of the door and looked at the ground, my stomach still in knots about what had happened a few minutes before.

  I should tell him that Dan had kissed me. It was harmless. Okay, it wasn’t harmless but it wasn’t my fault. That didn’t mean I wanted to discuss it right now. Or ever. Because no matter how much it wasn’t my fault the fact that I hadn’t told Matt about Dan before now made me look like a really crappy girlfriend. It made me feel like one, too. Despite the good intentions I’d had, I hadn’t acted on them, and a few minutes ago my ex’s tongue had been trying to probe my tonsils.

  “Dan plans on finishing his paperwork up tonight and handing everything over tomorrow after the funeral. I figure hospital administration will have it forwarded to the Pittsburgh Police Department by the end of the day.” I looked up at him and tried to come up with the best way to tell him the rest without completely destroying his trust in me—in us—at the same time.

  The door to Matt’s apartment flew open and Brenda and Valerie crowded the doorway, both of them staring at me with—poorly faked—shocked glances on their faces.

  “Funeral?” Brenda asked. “Why is there going to be a funeral? Oh Heaven protect us you killed someone? Faith, you take care of children. How could you? They’re harmless innocents.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” I said and rubbed my temple. “I had nothing to do with any of this. I was only questioned because they talked to all the charge nurses who worked on the PICU. Not that it’s any of your business, but cancer killed the patient in question two weeks ago. The collision of a moving car with a stationary tree killed her parents a couple of days ago. Their joint funeral is tomorrow.”

  “Damn.” Matt wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. “Does the MEDTECH guy think the family Angel of Deathed their own daughter?”

  “They’ll probably look into it.” I cradled my head against his chest. I could smell the burnt toffee stink of anger coming off both Brenda and Valerie, but right then I didn’t care. “Even though that isn’t what happened. I was there the night she died. It wasn’t a morphine overdose. Those are easy deaths. Most likely her parents stole the drugs so they could sell them and use the money to pay her medical bills. It’s been known to happen.”

  “Now they’ll suffer eternal damnation for their crimes,” Valerie said, her face grim and the smell of righteous indignation wafting off of her.

  Matt stiffened.

  “I’d think you’d be pleased about such a thing,” she continued. “Isn’t enlarging your legions of the damned something every demon strives for?”

  “Damnation doesn’t exist.” I pulled away from Matt to face his mother. I stepped forward and my horns curled upward while hellfire prickled along my skin. Outside thunder rumbled and the light in the hallway exploded. “You create your own Hell and you imprison yourself in it by your own choice. We merely serve as gate keepers, harvesting the souls given to us willingly.”

  “That’s not—” Brenda said and I turned towards her, my wings fighting to be unleashed so I could use them to beat her senseless.

  “Enough.” Matt stepped between me and the two harpies crowding his doorway. “Mother, Brenda, we will not be having a theological debate in the middle of the hallway right now. We will also not be attacking Faith. Especially while she’s feeling vulnerable. Go inside. We have to leave in about five minutes so we can mee
t Dad at his hotel. Then the three of you can go back to Biloxi and stay there. But right now I need to talk with Faith. So go inside. Now.”

  “But—” Valerie said.

  Matt pointed at the door to his apartment. “You wanted to come and check up on me so badly, here’s your chance. You have five minutes until we leave. Go root through my drawers, poke about in the fridge, and make up a list of complaints. But if you’re going to snoop through my life then I think it’s fair to warn you that I keep my midget porn stashed in a file folder called tax returns.”

  “Your what?” Brenda gasped and I buried my face in his chest, trying not to break into hysterical giggles.

  “Midget porn,” Matt said, enunciating each word. “Now, go. You’re going to follow the rules Dad set down for this little field trip of suffering.”

  “You’re presuming to enforce rules over me?” Valerie’s voice was venomous and her scent reeked of pure fury. “I am the leader of the Angale. Not to mention your mother. The Holy Testament says ‘Honor Thy Mother and Father.’”

  “And my father specifically told you to leave Faith and her family alone. While you’re here you can pester me to your heart’s content but you have to stay away from Faith.”

  “What about me?” Brenda asked, her voice dripping with innocence. “Those were the rules your father laid down for your mother. Surely they don’t apply to me?”

  “Oh yes they do,” Matt said. “If you don’t get in that apartment right this second so help me I will have Faith’s father bind you into the Grey Lands for the next thousand years.”

  “B-b-but—” Brenda spluttered. “You wouldn’t dare!”

 

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