“Well, he was none too happy when we stopped the third time to take those pictures at the overlook. Still, he’s a nice young man,” another lady agreed. “I wonder what’s going on back there? He just fell over all of a sudden-like.”
“I sure hope he’s okay,” Fred said.
Taylor glanced at his watch. The first Air Care flight was due to arrive at any time, and Bertie Meyer was manning the telephone at the reception desk. She’d already cut off about half a dozen calls, inexperienced as she was with the system. Problem was, Taylor couldn’t do much better, so Jill was answering the phone from the exam room, where she continued to watch Mr. Walker.
Flo put a hand on Taylor’s arm and grinned up at him with a look of obvious entreaty. “Couldn’t you just step back there and ask how Casey’s doing?”
He returned the grin. “Why don’t I go see how Casey’s doing.” With a final glance around the room at the rest of his patients, he strolled to the back and placed his used canister on the floor, disconnected the tubing and mask and tossed them in the biohazard-waste container, then washed his hands.
He could barely hear Karah Lee’s voice beyond the closed door of the exam room at the end of the hallway. He approached it and knocked. “Mind if I enter?”
He heard a gasp, and a quickly whispered, “No! Don’t let anybody—”
“One moment, please,” came Karah Lee’s response.
He blinked and frowned at the door. What was going on in there? Thirty seconds later the door eased open and Karah Lee slid through, her height and the breadth of her shoulders effectively blocking his view of the interior of the room. He stepped back.
She closed the door behind her. “Sorry, Taylor.” She touched his arm to draw him down the hallway with her. “We apparently have a shy patient. Casey’s requesting total privacy, and I’m bound by the request.”
“But what’s wrong with him?”
She gave him a noncommittal shrug. “I’m still checking. How are the others doing?”
“Better. Things have improved in the waiting room, and Air Care is due to land soon.” He glanced down and noticed the vials in her hand. “You drew blood?” He noticed that she had apparently spilled some of the blood on the hem of her lab coat.
“Yes, and I need to check the results as quickly as possible.” She turned into the lab across the hallway from the first exam room. When Taylor started to follow her in, she turned. “I’m sorry, Taylor, but privacy—”
“I know,” he said, frustrated. “Casey has a right to his privacy.”
She shrugged. “Regulations.”
He gestured to her coat. “You should change.”
She looked down and nodded. “Thanks, I will.” Then she closed the door behind her.
Taylor shook his head as he returned to the waiting room. “Sorry, folks, I don’t have any news about Casey yet. Maybe you should ask the doctor about him when she comes out.”
Karah Lee took off her soiled lab coat, double bagged it in the red biohazard bags and placed it in the corner to toss in the laundry hamper later. She listened at the door until she heard Taylor’s voice back in the waiting room, then cracked the door open again and stuck her head out into the hallway. Jill was still in the room across the hall.
“Hey,” Karah Lee called softly, waving for the nurse’s attention.
Jill glanced over her shoulder, caught sight of Karah Lee and stepped to the doorway. “What’s going on? You’re doing lab now? Air Care should be here anytime.”
“Good. Come here, I need you right now.”
Jill frowned and glanced at her patient. “I’ll be right back, Mr. Walker.”
“You go on,” the man said weakly. “I’m feeling better.”
Jill didn’t look convinced, but she shrugged and crossed the hallway. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to check out our patients, but I have a problem with Casey.” Karah Lee held the door open and motioned the nurse inside.
Jill joined her in the lab. “Is he okay?”
“I need you to run lab work on…on the blood and urine I took.”
“What kind of lab work?”
Karah Lee closed the door and leaned against it. “Not a word to anyone about this, Jill. No one.”
Jill shrugged. “Fine, but are you going to tell me what happened to our mystery boy, and why you’re taking all your time with him when we have a lot of other patients—”
“Casey’s a woman,” Karah Lee murmured softly.
Jill hesitated, and her slender eyebrows drew together in disapproval. “This isn’t a good time for jokes, Doc.”
“I suspect a spontaneous abortion, but I need to make sure it isn’t a ruptured ectopic. I’ve got her on IV fluids right now.”
The eyebrows raised slightly, and the blue eyes widened. “You’re not kidding.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly a practical joker,” Karah Lee said. “I need to check the other patients and prepare them for transport, but then I need to get back in and give her an examination.”
Jill’s professional posture settled back into place, and she was once again as unshakable as her hard-sprayed hair. “Then get to it. I’ll run the labs and get them to you ASAP.”
“Thanks.” Karah Lee stepped out into the hallway and heard the familiar sound of helicopter rotors beating the air.
Taylor poked his head around the corner from the waiting room. “You hear that? Choppers are on approach. Both of them. Blaze and Nathan are outside laying the markers for them.”
Extreme relief. “How are the others?”
“All are showing signs of improvement, though some continue to need oxygen. Those who had mild symptoms are now asymptomatic, and those who were moderate are now mild. Another bus is on its way from Branson.”
Karah Lee knew it was far too early to relax her guard, but it felt good to have such competent staff covering her backside. “Thanks, Taylor. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.”
She crossed the hallway to check on Mr. Walker and reassure him. The results of his bedside blood test, which Jill had run while Karah Lee was in with Casey, showed that he indeed had had a myocardial infarction. Though the results weren’t specific, Karah Lee was able to interpret the seriousness of the situation by reading the monitor and EKG. She knew better than to try to interpret past that, however. She’d leave that for the cardiologists in Springfield.
The rhythmic chop-chop of helicopter blades beat the air in counterpoint as they landed, and Karah Lee was glad this town had reserved such a broad lawn between the main street and the lake.
As Taylor bent over Mrs. White and checked her vitals, Karah Lee allowed herself a fraction of a moment to watch him with the patient. He was a natural. Amazing how much a person could learn about another person in just a short afternoon of extreme tension. To watch him, she’d have thought this was his primary occupation.
Even better was that he’d come to her rescue again, and this time she hadn’t disgraced herself in any way.
Taylor straightened from Mrs. White’s bedside, and Karah Lee turned away. “I’ll be in exam room four.”
She could feel him watching her as she left the room, and wondered how much longer she’d be able to conceal Casey’s real condition from the rest of the staff. Government regulations were the pits at a time like this, although Karah Lee would have kept Casey’s secret, anyway.
Something was going on with that young woman, and Karah Lee wished she knew what it was.
Taylor focused on preparing his patients for the switch-over and flight. The oxygen was working, thank God. The hyperbaric chamber would probably restore them completely.
Yes. Thank you, God. Answered prayer. He immediately turned his attention to other things, but the gentle thought remained. It was almost as if God had made physical contact with Taylor, as if they’d had a rare communication—almost like a reassurance of some kind, as if God were gently nudging Taylor to let him know his prayers weren’t useles
s.
There had been no lives lost this time around, and for that, Taylor was profoundly grateful. Even Mr. Walker seemed to be doing better.
The atmosphere in the waiting room grew livelier as Taylor propped open the thick wooden door that separated the entry foyer from the waiting room proper.
He reassured the passengers about their buddies on the bus and explained where the helicopters were taking them, and why.
“What about Casey?” Fred asked. “What’s up with him?”
“The doctor is with him now, but I really can’t give you any news about him yet.” Thanks to Karah Lee. “However, I’m encouraged by the fact that she hasn’t called for another transport to take him to a larger hospital.”
“That poor boy,” Flo said. “We should’ve guessed he wasn’t feeling too well, either.”
“I’m curious about him,” Taylor said.
“So are we,” Flo said. “He got on the bus alone just before it pulled out in Branson, found a seat by himself and never said a word until Myrt got sick across the aisle from him. Then he started that little activity of passing out aspirin and carrying drinks and even handing out those motion-sick bags. Who’d’ve thought it?”
“Just goes to show you never can tell about people,” Myrt said from the far corner.
“That’s for sure,” Fred replied. “D’you get a load of that ring he wore? Hot-pink hearts. I’m telling you, kids’ve got a different style these days, for sure.”
“We’ll need to know who to contact about him,” Taylor said. “Guardian or parent or someone.”
“The kid told me he was one of them emancipated minors,” Fred said. “But he’s with us now. We’ll keep an eye on him, soon as the doctor lets him out of here.”
“Don’t count on that,” Myrt said. “The driver says they’ve got another bus coming to pick us up, and we’re going to have to be ready to roll if we want to get home tonight.”
“You mean just take off and leave him here alone?” Fred exclaimed. “Just like that?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of him,” Taylor said.
The flight crew from the first chopper came across the street pushing a stretcher, and Taylor braced open the glass foyer door to give them free access inside. He cautioned everyone not to block the walkway, then began giving reports on the patients as the flight crews transferred each one to Air Care’s equipment.
Finally, just when Taylor thought he would be stuck giving reports on all three patients, Jill stepped out of the lab and closed the door behind her, then greeted the crews and helped with the transfers. Karah Lee, at last, emerged from her stronghold and rejoined the staff.
Taylor saw Jill rise up on tiptoe to whisper something in Karah Lee’s ear. Karah Lee nodded, gave a reply that was too soft to be overheard, and nodded with apparent satisfaction.
And Taylor was left to battle his curiosity alone.
Chapter Fifteen
Fawn stared at the white ceiling of the exam room and imagined she could feel the fluid trickle into her arm and through her bloodstream.
Product of conceptus? Even if Dr. Karah Lee hadn’t explained, Fawn knew she was having a miscarriage. Which meant she’d been pregnant with someone’s baby. Had to have happened when she’d slipped up and forgotten to take her Pill for a couple of days.
Stupid!
The fluid from the bag continued to drip into her arm. The doctor had told her it was on the highest setting, and the bag was already almost empty. That stuff sure worked. She felt better now.
Except she was having a miscarriage. If she’d been carrying a little baby inside her, and now it was dead, shouldn’t there be a funeral or something? Had she done something to cause the miscarriage? Or maybe God had decided that no baby of hers deserved to live.
A baby. A little baby she could have taken care of and protected. She might have been a mom in a few months.
The ceiling blurred as tears filled her eyes. An innocent little child surely didn’t need to be stuck with a mom who turned tricks for a living. What a horrible way to grow up. But she’d been doing so much better with Bruce…and maybe she’d’ve given her baby up for adoption with a good family. And yet, for just a moment, she allowed herself to imagine…a tiny child nestling into her arms, trusting her to keep him safe…
How could she keep anybody safe while she ran from the police and the killer?
Her brothers and sister had snuggled into her arms, feeling warm and sweet and cuddly, and gazing up into her eyes almost as if she were their mom. They were so cute…until they overburped or dirtied their diapers or screamed and cried, and Mom hollered for Fawn to keep them quiet.
Is that the kind of mom I would be? Grumpy and crying all the time, and letting my husband do whatever he wanted to my kids?
Well, now she wouldn’t have to think about all that. At least not for a while. Maybe never. Maybe she was one of those people who should never have kids.
Could be she even already had some disease, like an STD or even AIDS. Had the doctor checked her blood for that?
The chatter out in the main clinic reached her, and Fawn heard a couple of the old geezers asking about “Casey.” More tears trickled down the sides of her face and into her hair. What would those people think about her if they knew what she really was?
Maybe they’d still like her. Sometimes old people were more understanding about stuff like that. Great-Grandma had been.
But she didn’t have time to think about Great-Grandma. She had to get out of this clinic and find some place around here to hide. She didn’t know much about this town, or about what was going on here, but she did know she should never have talked to Ranger Taylor in the first place.
But what else could she have done? The driver wouldn’t even listen to her when she told him how sick the Whites were, because he was sick, too. She wouldn’t’ve done anything different. Still, Taylor had to have seen a picture of her, at least the one in the paper, and maybe she’d even been a TV star for about thirty seconds on the local news—not that she’d have seen it, hiding out in that cave of an apartment.
Anyway, this place might be a hideaway for some people, but they had newspapers and television, and Fawn knew better than to trust strangers. Would the doctor keep a secret from the ranger? What if he started asking more questions? And then there was the real Casey Timble, whose ticket had turned up missing after he got jammed into the men’s room at the store. If he could use his brain better than he could sing, then he might have figured out he’d been duped, and if he called the right people…
…had to get out of here.
She watched the bag empty into the IV tube and into her arm, and with every drop she continued to feel better. Now she had to go.
She flexed her fist. Dr. Karah Lee had said she had nice big veins. Cool doctor, but could she be trusted?
Before she could chicken out, Fawn grabbed the needle, held her breath and tugged the tape from the top of the needle. The tip jabbed her and she winced, but she grasped the base of the needle and yanked it out, then pressed her fingers over the hole in her arm before much blood could drip out. She shoved the IV pole away from the bed with her foot and sat up.
Voices seemed to suddenly fill the hallway, which probably meant the helicopters were landing. With all the commotion, this was the perfect time to get out.
She got up, took a deep breath to steady herself, grabbed a handful of cotton balls from the second drawer down on the exam-room desk. She placed one cotton ball over the hole in her arm and put some tape over that, then bent her elbow double. That should stop the bleeding soon.
She reached down for her pack, which that hot guy, Blaze—oh, what a name—had brought back for her, and pulled out some fresh clothes. After dressing, she swung the pack over her shoulder, then tiptoed to the door and cracked it open. No one in the hallway.
With another deep breath, she stepped out into the hallway and turned left, toward the back of the clinic. There had to be some kind of
emergency exit that way. She could do this. Everything would be okay.
Karah Lee checked on two of the three patients who hadn’t gone outside to watch the helicopters take off with their charges. All were looking good, so she left them on oxygen and rushed down the hallway to the back exam room. Casey’s drip bag should almost be empty, and she—
She opened the door and stumbled to a stop. The bed was empty.
“Casey?” She stepped back out into the hallway and checked the bathroom. No one.
Blaze was the first staff member to return to the clinic.
“Blaze, did Casey go outside to watch the liftoff?”
“I didn’t see him. You going to tell me what’s going on with him now? Why all the secrecy?”
“Sorry, you know the rules.” She checked the other rooms.
He followed behind her. “Maybe he started feeling better.”
“Obviously he did, or he wouldn’t—” She looked in exam room four again and gasped. “The backpack. It’s gone. Did you put it somewhere else?”
“Nope. I guess Casey must’ve taken it.” Blaze frowned at her. “Come on, Karah Lee, it just means he’s feeling better.”
“It isn’t that simple.” She scanned the room. Casey had obviously pulled out her own IV needle. The discarded gown and top sheet covered the majority of bloodstains.
“What’d you have him on IV for?” Blaze asked.
“Dehydration.”
“From what?”
“Blaze, I’m sorry, but the case is confidential from here on out.”
“Okay, I know the rules. Fine. So what can you tell me?” He followed her as she rushed out of the room. “For instance, I’ve been wondering—Mr. and Mrs. White were sitting in the back of the bus, right?”
“Right.” She glanced into the lab and the reception office, and finally led the way out to the waiting room, which was once more filling with people—not only patients from the bus, but an increasing number of her regularly scheduled afternoon patients, who looked confused by the hullabaloo.
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