by Rachel Lee
The breeze kicked up, warm and dry, and tossed the curtains at her living room windows, reminding her how much she loved summers here. Sometimes they got too hot, but mostly brought the kind of weather that made you want to get out and do things.
That breeze carried her back to her childhood, when this kind of weather virtually guaranteed a backyard picnic, or an afternoon of badminton on the grass. Long, lazy bike rides with her friends gathering together under a tree to talk about all the things teens find so important.
A time when she had felt not only loved, but utterly safe.
Maybe those times would come again.
Then strong arms closed around her from behind, and with a sigh, she sank back against David.
“Hi,” he murmured, his breath warm against her neck.
She turned, lifting her arms, welcoming him in a warm embrace. “Hi,” she murmured back, and kissed him with every hope in her heart.
When their mouths separated, he looked deep into her eyes. “It’s going to be okay,” he promised.
But the assurance didn’t seem to matter any more, as he scooped her up in her arms and carried her to the air mattress.
Other things, matters of life, were for now more important than the night ahead.
Chapter 13
They drove to the hospital separately, a conscious decision made because no one could know what the night might hold. A quick kiss, touch and look in the parking lot, then they headed their separate ways.
Krissie changed into fresh scrubs in the women’s locker room, pausing reluctantly to run a brush quickly through her hair. Now that it was time, she felt eager to get this night started.
As she walked to her wing, she waved and smiled at people she passed, ignoring the odd looks some of them gave her. Gage’s rumor had grown the legs he expected. She could practically read it verbatim from some of the expressions.
Keeping a smile on her face, she made her way to the nurses’ station. Julie and Nancy had their heads together in conversation as she approached, but fell abruptly silent when they saw her.
Still smiling, she joined them. “I hear we have some additional patients tonight.”
The two women exchanged looks, then Julie nodded and spoke. “A lot,” she said. “But nobody is very sick.”
“That’s good. Can I see the records?”
Nancy hopped back from the computer screen. Just as Krissie was settling into the chair to read, the nurse she was relieving came up.
“Hey, Krissie,” said Wanda Pennington. “How’s it going?”
“Been better,” Krissie said truthfully, figuring she had to at least act as if she’d spent all night being questioned about two murders.
Wanda leaned over the counter and smiled. “Don’t let it get to you. Not your fault you were on shift when those two patients died.”
“That’s kind of my feeling,” Krissie said. “Except I feel bad we couldn’t save them.”
“Happens,” Wanda said. “You’ve been a nurse long enough to know.” Then she looked at Julie and Nancy. “These two, of course, are full of salacious details about something about which they know nothing.”
Krissie wondered why Wanda was being so blunt. “I guess a lot of people are curious.”
“Probably,” Wanda sniffed. “But most should know better. Have a good night. I just hope all these patients don’t start feeling ignored and ringing their bells. If they do, make Julie and Nancy do the running. They deserve it.”
With a toss of her head, Wanda headed off.
Krissie turned to look at her two LPNs. “Want to talk to me about it?”
They both hesitated as if they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Finally Nancy screwed up the courage. “We were just wondering why the sheriff should take you in like that.”
“Can’t talk about it,” Krissie said. “But as you see, I’m here.”
Point made and taken, the two women looked deflated. “Yeah,” said Julie. “Sorry. We were just curious.”
“Everybody gets curious,” Krissie said smoothly. She turned back to the monitor to read the charts. Everything appeared to be just fine, including the influx of patients all admitted that day by David. Satisfied the evening should progress without problems of the natural kind, she rose and announced she was going to make her rounds.
Down at the far end of the hall she saw the orderly—Charlie, that was it—mopping steadily away.
She moved from room to room, checking on the real patients, pretending to check on the new patients. A little conversation, a touch-up here and there on the beds, letting everyone know who she was, making sure the last meal trays had been removed.
That’s when she realized this was going to be a long night. The murderer struck in the small hours of the morning, not during the evening, and all she had was a ward full of people who weren’t sick, or who should be going home in the morning.
“Lovely,” she muttered under her breath. If the hands of the clock could move any slower, she didn’t know how.
She punctiliously updated every chart, spending more time than necessary at the job while Julie and Nancy circulated, keeping an eye on visitors who should be leaving soon.
The ward emptied finally, and it was time for the ten o’clock meds. Easy enough. Nobody seemed to need anything except a sleeping pill, and in one case, a mild laxative pill. As the registered nurse, she was the one who handed out the medicines, so that allowed her to let the cops in each room ditch the prescribed pills. She dropped the medicine cups in the wastebasket by the bed, but dropped the pills into the biohazard bins on the wall near their beds. Each of them, male and female alike, gave her a nod that she supposed was meant to be reassuring.
The real patients on the other hand were wanting a bit more attention. Why not? Nobody lying in a hospital bed wanted to feel ignored, even when they were going home in the morning.
So she sat and chatted with them, found them fresh magazines where possible, helped them find something better on TV, brought them juice and ice water.
God, some nights were boring, even when the anticipation of something horrible made your skin want to crawl.
When she finally returned to the nurses’ station, she found Julie, Nancy and Charlie engaged in a game of hearts. They offered to deal her in, but she pointed out that she had to make sure she recorded all the meds.
So they scooted out of the way and let her check to make sure she hadn’t skipped any entries in the room terminals. Of course she hadn’t. She knew she hadn’t. She just couldn’t imagine trying to focus on a game of cards right now.
This waiting was killing her.
At midnight, Charlie said good night and departed.
At two, nothing had happened.
At three, she began to feel wound up as tight as a spring. She told Julie and Nancy to take their breaks. Only one of them went, of course. They knew she wasn’t supposed to be left alone. Hadn’t Dr. Marcus made that the rule only a few days ago?
Krissie wanted to pull her own hair.
But finally, there came an urge she couldn’t postpone. “Julie, I have to run to the rest room.”
“Go ahead. I can keep an eye on everything.” Julie smiled. “It’s a quiet night, right?”
Too quiet, in a way. Krissie darted into the staff bathroom that was right behind the nurses’ station. Safe enough, because Julie had seen where she had gone. David’s edict was being followed.
She hurried through her business, scrubbing her hands with added effort to speed the process. It couldn’t have been more than two minutes.
When she emerged, Julie was gone from the station. A call light was blinking from a couple of rooms down the hall, bed B. Julie had probably gone to answer it.
But wait. Her heart froze. Wasn’t bed B the cop?
Krissie followed immediately, in case something was wrong. She peeked into the room to find no one but the two patients there. A quick check revealed that the real one was sleeping, and the cop was awake. H
is eyes followed her as she checked the other patient.
She paused by the bed. “Did you hit the call button? It’s on for your bed.”
The cop shook his head. “Maybe I rolled on it. I’m getting stiff from lying here and I was tossing a bit.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine, really.”
Reaching over his head, she turned off the call. “Well,” she murmured with a smile, “you know how to get me if you need me.”
He grinned back at her.
So where was Julie? Probably answering a call and had already turned off the call light.
She went down the hall, checking the rooms on the right first. As she entered the last room, the one with the female police officer in it, she pushed the door open a hair and saw someone standing near the bed.
The light coming from night lights near the base of the wall didn’t exactly illuminate things above foot level.
“Julie?” she said, although almost instantly she realized it wasn’t Julie at all.
She stepped into the room just as the person beside the bed turned toward her.
“Charlie? What are you doing here…?”
The words barely escaped her mouth before Charlie grabbed her, whirled her around with an arm behind her back. In horror, she felt the prick of a needle at her neck, not puncturing, just threatening.
And there, on the floor under the cop’s bed, was another of those dolls. “Charlie, what…?”
“Shut up.”
Apparently the woman on the bed had dozed off, which she wasn’t supposed to do. She stirred now, mumbling, and tried to sit up.
She’s drugged, Krissie realized in horror. But she was sure she had tossed the sleeping pill into the biohazard container.
“Charlie…”
“I said ‘shut up.’ She won’t be able to help you, so shut up.”
“What did you do to her?”
“It’s so easy to put something in their water.”
Oh, God! Krissie felt a sudden chill run through her. They were thinking of everything else, assuming the murderer would just slip in and inject through the IV port. It hadn’t occurred to anyone that he might give his victim an added sedative in the water.
“Oh, dear God,” Krissie whispered. “That’s why Mrs. Alexander was so sleepy!”
“You think I want them to suffer? The way my brother suffered?”
“What are you talking about?”
At that instant, with a Herculean effort, the female cop reached the call button and hit it. From down the hall, Krissie could hear the buzz.
“Dammit,” Charlie said. He twisted her arm even harder and turned her around, pushing her toward the door, the needle still at her neck. If that syringe contained the potassium she suspected, the injection would be as good as a bullet to the brain.
As he shoved her into the hallway, Julie emerged from the room across the way and let out a scream.
“Shut up or I’ll stab her,” Charlie growled.
Julie immediately clapped her hand to her mouth, silencing the scream. She stood frozen.
Charlie started pushing Krissie toward the door at the end of the hall, away from the nurses’ station. As a nurse attached to the Marine Corps, she’d received some good military training. Self-defense training. And nursing had made her strong.
As they turned, with the first sounds of pounding footsteps coming up the hall behind them, she simultaneously jammed her heel hard on the arch of his foot and reached up with her free hand, sliding it between her and his arm, the one that held the needle to her throat. She grabbed his thumb and yanked it backward. She felt the needle scrape her neck but not puncture.
In that instant of unexpected, extraordinary pain, his grip on her other arm loosened and the needle clattered to the floor. She yanked loose and whirled away in time to see the cavalry racing down the hall in answer to Julie’s scream.
David was there, too, as if he had been waiting for this along with the cops, and there was murder in his eyes.
Charlie started to dive for the syringe, but Krissie kicked it away and then the pack of cops and David landed on him.
“We’ve got him,” one of the cops said.
Shaking but inwardly steady, at least for the moment, Krissie turned to David, who was rising to his feet and still looking ready to kill. “We’ve got to help the female cop. He dosed her with a sedative and I don’t know how much.”
David visibly got a grip on himself and took charge instantly, telling Julie what to get. Krissie started to follow him into the room but he ordered her out.
Before she could argue, Micah appeared beside her, taking her arm. “Other medicos are coming,” he said. “You need to sit this one out.”
Just how badly, she didn’t realize until she started to sit at the nurses’ station and her legs turned to rubber. She dropped onto the chair like lead.
“You’re as white as a sheet,” Micah said. He squatted beside her. “Lower your head, Krissie. David’s got everything in hand. You know you can trust him.”
For once, she did as she was told without resenting it. Leaning forward, she brought her head to below heart level.
“It’s fun when the adrenaline drops off abruptly,” he said. “You’ll be better in a minute. Damn, girl, I’m proud of how you handled that.”
She turned her head toward him, hugging her knees like a lifeline. “But why?” she asked. “Why?”
Micah’s expression grew grim. “That’s exactly what we’re going to find out.”
Several hours later, long after an on-call nurse had relieved her of duty, long after the scratch on her neck was treated, long after David had dragged her to the break room to eat the tuna sandwich and raw carrots she’d packed for lunch and never tasted, only after he watched her eat every single bite and had assured himself that she was neither in shock nor likely to go into shock now, was she allowed to leave the hospital and go to the sheriff’s office.
David drove her, reminding her they could come back for her car later. Just as she was beginning to resent feeling as if everyone were trying to wrap her in cotton wool, they walked into the sheriff’s office to find the place crawling with cops, many of whom had recently been playing patient. They were sucking down coffee and helping each other write reports.
Gage spied her and motioned her back to his office. The only other person there, besides her and David, was Micah. Micah sat on the edge of table in the corner, having nudged some papers aside with his hip, and was sipping coffee. He smiled with his eyes when he saw her.
Gage motioned her and David to chairs facing his desk, then he went around to take his own seat, judiciously arranging the pillows as he did so.
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay?” Krissie repeated. “I don’t see anything okay about this. Did you find out why he did it?”
“Clams talk more than this guy.” He shook his head. “I’m letting him cool his heels a bit, then I’m going to ask you for a big favor.”
She eyed him questioningly.
“After you help me make out a report about exactly what happened on your end, I want you to talk to him.”
“Me?”
“If he’s going to talk at all,” Gage said, “it’ll probably be to the person he was really after, which seems to be you.”
She nodded slowly. “He said something about his brother. And I sure as hell want to know why he did this.”
“Don’t we all? He’s been advised of his rights, but he hasn’t asked for an attorney. If I send you in there, I’m going to advise him of his rights again.”
“You’re sending me in alone?”
Gage nodded. “Don’t worry. He’s shackled to the floor, and before you get in there, he’s going to be shackled to the chair as well.”
She frowned. “But nothing he tells me can be used in court, can it? I mean, isn’t it hearsay or something?”
“Actually, it’s an exception to the hearsay rule, and you can testify in co
urt to everything he says to you, including an admission of guilt. But we’re not going to rely on that. Like I said, I’m going to advise him of his rights again, and tell him that anything he says to you can be used in court. And it’s going to be on videotape as well.”
She nodded. Weary as she was feeling, determination stiffened her. “This isn’t going to be fun. He must really hate me. But of course I’ll try to get him to talk.”
“It’s not essential that he tell us anything. We caught him in the act, we know he doped a cop and threatened you, the syringe contained that potassium you were telling me about, and there was a doll under Detective Sousa’s bed. He’s nailed. But I’d sure like to know why.”
“Me, too.”
One corner of Gage’s mouth lifted in a slight smile. “But first I need your sworn statement about what happened tonight so no defense attorney can claim your recollections were altered by your conversation with the perp.”
Her statement took the better part of an hour, in part because there weren’t a whole lot of fast typists in the department.
But then, at long last, she was led back to the interrogation room. David touched her arm just before Gage opened the door to admit her.
She looked up at him.
“I’m going to be watching,” he said. “If you need anything at all, if anything is too unpleasant, just say my name and I’ll get you out of there.”
The separation, the sense of distance from everything around her that had been protecting her since the attack, suddenly dissolved. Only in that moment did she realize that the night’s events hadn’t even begun to touch her.
She melted into his arms, clinging, and he held her tight, as if he never wanted to let go. “Thanks,” she said shakily. “Thanks.”
But finally, she had to let go. She managed a wan smile and turned to face the door. Gage searched her face, seemed satisfied, and opened it.
As he had promised, Charlie Waters was shackled to the floor and cuffed to the chair. He wouldn’t get very far if he tried anything. When he saw Krissie, the look of hatred was unmistakable, and so strong that she instinctively stepped back.
“Okay,” Gage said to Charlie. “I’m going to let you talk to Ms. Tate, but let me remind you of your rights, because anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law, and this conversation will be videotaped.”