by Nesly Clerge
The three of us sped from the room. The woman screamed and thrashed on the table, making it difficult for staff to tend to her. During her flailing, she tore the I.V. from the back of her hand.
“We need to restrain her,” Agatha said.
The nurse opened a cabinet and retrieved the restraints. The woman’s breathing became shallow.
“Intubate her,” Agatha ordered. “And someone get a fetal monitor attached. Stat!”
The woman’s lips and nails were turning blue. Her blood pressure dropped, as did her pulse. Muscle spasms were followed by seizures. Ventricular tachycardia progressed to ventricular fibrillation. We had her set for defibrillation within seconds.
Agatha yelled, “Clear,” and sent the electrical current to the woman’s heart.
No pulse, and the same heart rhythm.
After two more attempts, time of death was called. Everyone in the room went quiet.
Agatha checked the fetal monitor. “We don’t have long. Prep for a C-section. Just the basics. No time, or need, for this to be pretty. We’re going down-and-dirty, team.”
Despite the frantic pace she worked at, Agatha’s surgical skills left me even more impressed than before. “You’re an artist,” I told her as we cleaned up.
“An artist angry as hell, you mean. What the hell did her boyfriend mean to do, kill them both? I guess that would have cleared him of any responsibility for them.”
I glanced toward the table where the nurse was nearly through tending the newborn. “What are her chances?”
“With the right care, and time, she can make it.”
“Poor little thing is shaking so hard.”
“She’ll do better once we can get her swaddled and out of bright lights and away from noise. At least she was full-term. She would have arrived any day now. We’ll have to keep her here as long as it takes. It’s best if we set up a rotation of women with soothing voices and personalities to hold her, probably around the clock.”
“They’ll need to be told what to watch for. Any seizures or respiratory issues start, they have to get help fast.”
“Not to worry. We have a neonatologist on call. I’ve already had someone text her. She should be here soon. This little one will get the proper care.”
The nurse picked up the baby and walked to where we stood. My gaze fixed on the dark-haired wailing infant. “Okay if I hold her?”
“Of course.” The nurse handed her to me.
I cradled the child to my chest and stroked her hair. “If I hadn’t been present at her birth, I’d think she was wearing a wig.”
Agatha stroked the infant’s tiny fist. “We’ll have to make sure she’s in perfect condition before we turn her over to an agency. It’ll be up to them to find the right parents to adopt her.”
I glanced at the covered body of what used to be a living, breathing woman who’d never hold her child. “What about the mother?”
“We’ll treat her with respect.”
“Of course. What I meant was what about her death certificate? Someone needs to call the shelter to learn her name.”
The nurse said, “Already done. They don’t know, nor did she come here with any ID. Unless police can find someone who knew her, she’ll have to be listed as Jane Doe.”
I cuddled the infant closer to me. “I can’t tell you how furious all of this makes me.”
Agatha frowned and nodded. “You’re preaching to the choir, my dear.”
Two hours later, the coroner’s office picked up the mother. Police interviewed Agatha, though she said it was more like an interrogation. We learned the shelter administrator received the same treatment, despite explaining the woman had never been to the shelter before.
During a break, I went to the room where the newborn was being looked after and held the fretting child in my arms.
The unidentified boyfriend—I presumed the father of the child—would get away with his crime.
I kissed the infant’s forehead and whispered, “At least it was one murder, not two.”
Men. They were going to pay, every last one of them.
CHAPTER 72
For the next week, every spare moment I had during the day was spent with the infant. I slept each night in the assigned room at the facility, with the baby cuddled to me. Despite her symptoms, which were waning due to our staff’s excellent care, I became more entranced with her the more time we spent together. I wasn’t alone in this. Patricia was equally affected.
We were together in the dimly lit room one night a week later. I sat in the rocking chair with the baby in my arms, moving the chair slowly, gently, while we spoke in low tones.
Patricia smiled and said, “That little one has gained a few ounces.”
“She’s eating better now. I was more than a little concerned.”
“She’s calmer than before.”
My phone vibrated. I checked the caller—Abigail—and returned the phone to my pocket. I shifted my focus from the tiny face to Patricia’s. “I don’t think I can let her go.”
Patricia studied me for a moment. “Then we won’t. We’ll adopt her.”
“Can we do that? Aren’t there laws about that? People know she’s here.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Documents can be created. Lies can become truths—they often do. Our techs are skilled at that kind of thing.”
“You truly think we can get away with it?”
“I don’t think, I know. We’ll need to name her. Why don’t you choose one?”
“I’ve already been calling her by one I looked up.”
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. And?”
“Lauren.”
“I like it.”
I stroked Lauren’s soft cheek. “It’s French. For laurel.”
“How very fitting, Katherine.”
“What about her last name?”
“Barnes, of course.”
“I think Lauren Hill sounds better. Besides, you could get away with the adoption aspect better than I could, legally speaking.”
“I assure you that won’t be a problem. As for the name, what about Lauren Hill Barnes? That way she has both our names.”
Lauren stirred in my arms then settled again. “I can live with that.” I looked at the baby and said, “What do you think, Lauren? Do you like that for a full name?”
She stretched one of her tiny arms out. I knew her hand was curled into a fist because babies don’t uncurl completely for a few years, but it made Patricia and me chuckle.
“However,” Patricia said, “don’t think you’ll get the joy of raising her alone. With your schedule, you’ll need help.”
“Your schedule is far from light.”
She grinned and stroked the back of Lauren’s hand. “I’ve already spoken with the others. Among the five of us, we’ll manage. When Lauren is able to leave the facility, we’ll take turns having her with us. She’s also inspired me to add a nursery and daycare room to the school. One of the biggest issues for some of our mothers is a safe place for their children, including infants, while they work or go to school.”
I kissed Lauren’s head. “Look at that, little one. You’re already stirring things up in a good way.”
“Like I said, it’s best to start them young. That way the differences they make will be significant.”
“She’s making a difference, all right.”
I wiped the tear from her cheek that had fallen from mine.
CHAPTER 73
During the wee hours of the morning, Lauren woke. Her wailing still lingered in weakness, but was improving. I didn’t mind. It meant she was getting stronger. And fighting to live. I’d make certain she also thrived in every way.
I moved from the bed to the rocker and spoke in calming tones to her. Some might have thought the topic was inappropriate, but I found myself thinking aloud. She didn’t mind. I believe she felt comforted by my voice, even when I became more animated when the proverbial lightbulb went off in my head about how to make men
pay.
Ten minutes before seven, sirens wailed nearby then faded. Lauren whimpered in response to the high-pitched tones then went still again. At seven, my replacement tapped gently on the door and entered. I made my report, gave instructions, kissed Lauren’s forehead and handed her over.
There were many things I could have done upon being relieved of my watch, but my eagerness to share my idea with Patricia was too great. I’d get the pot of coffee going in her office and be there to greet her when she arrived at eight or before, as was her habit.
I sprinted across the grounds, rounded the corner to the entrance of headquarters, and skidded to a stop. Three police cars and an ambulance covered the parking spaces at the entrance to the building. Yellow crime tape cordoned off the area.
The expression worn by the officer nearest me indicated he wouldn’t allow me through. Then he noted my white lab coat and ID clipped to my pocket.
As he raised the yellow tape for me to walk under, I asked, “What happened?”
“Some of the place got torn up. I’m not sure how many men were involved, but they got away.”
“How do you know it was men?”
“Couple security people saw them. Also said they got ‘em on video.”
“That means you can identify them from the tapes.”
He shook his head. “Ski masks.”
Tires screeched to a stop not far behind us. The officer and I turned our attention to the car, and to Agatha, who dressed in her lab coat and ID badge, got out and hurried toward us. “What’s going on?”
The officer repeated what he’d told me.
She lifted the tape and crossed under. “Anyone hurt?”
He nodded and pulled a small notebook from his pocket. “Patricia Hill. She said she was working late, heard noises and went to check. They caught her. Really did a number on her.”
Agatha and I looked at each other. She said, “At least she’s talking.”
I grabbed her hand and we bolted inside.
We dodged displaced furniture, shattered glass, and plants ripped from their pots. Ran past offices with file drawers open, folders and papers strewn everywhere, computers smashed. Dashed past framed photos once proclaiming accomplishments from their places on the walls that now littered the hallway floor.
“We should have asked him where she is,” I said.
We turned a corner and Agatha said, “We’ve found her.”
Coming toward us was a gurney propelled by two emergency medical technicians. We jogged to meet them.
Agatha said, “You’re not taking her anywhere but to the facility on our grounds. We’ll take care of her there.”
The EMT at the foot of the gurney shrugged. “As long as we get her someplace quick.”
At the sound of our voices, Patricia turned her head toward us. Her eyes were swollen shut. She moved her equally swollen lips but no sound came out. The attempt to raise a hand proved too much and she passed out.
“She keeps doing that,” the EMT at the head of the gurney said. “Seems it was hours before security found her in her office during rounds.”
As we headed for the facility, the EMT gave his report, starting with her vital signs.
“Looks like they tortured her,” he said. “Some of it, you can see for yourself. Lacerations, contusions, cigarette burns, broken bones, probability of internal organ bruising, and signs of rape.”
As he expounded, Agatha glanced at me. We knew if visuals counted for anything, Patricia’s condition was dire. We also knew we’d do everything in our power to save her.
Once inside the facility, Agatha assigned an administrator to deal with the EMTs. We rushed Patricia into one of our private emergency rooms. I quickly set up the I.V. and made sure the saline was dripping at the appropriate rate. “As much as I hate what it’ll do to her, we have to examine her,” I said.
Agatha sighed hard and nodded. “She’s in agony every time she comes to. I’ll give her enough morphine so that what we have to do to her is bearable.”
Connie burst into the room. “Sonofabitch! Was off duty when I got the call. I didn’t want to believe it. When I learn the names of the bastards that did this, they’re going to pay through their asses.”
“They wore masks,” I said. “Didn’t security tell you? And that they got away?”
Connie sneered. “That last part is what our security team told the police.”
“What are you saying?”
“They caught one of them. I seriously doubt the others are going to report to police that he’s missing and where.”
“That means they may come back for him.”
“I hope they do. Right now, security is adding to their numbers. And not just their numbers. Tasers are good for some things, but these bastards come back, they’re going to be looking down barrels aimed at them by some seriously pissed off women.”
Agatha prepped a syringe with morphine. “Why the hell didn’t they discover Patricia sooner, or that we had visitors?”
“Whoever did this screwed with the alarm system and the video feed. Nobody knew any shit was going down. Our system is so sophisticated, security made rounds inside and outside the building every five hours. That’s changed, effective now.”
I removed the cap from the I.V. portal. “I thought the intruders were captured on video.”
“They were. We have a backup system that records in case something happens to the main one. Means we only watch the main one, unless it goes down. Then we use the other one until repairs are done. Way they dicked with it, everything looked normal, quiet. They didn’t know about that second one, because only top-tier security know about it. And Patricia, of course.” She turned her stern expression on us. “Not a damn word about it to anyone.”
Agatha and I nodded a silent oath.
My phone vibrated—Abigail.
Patricia moaned. We clustered around her. Agatha inserted the needle into the I.V. port and began the gradual administration of the drug.
I stroked Patricia’s hair. “We’ve got you now. You rest and let us take care of you. We’ve got you.”
CHAPTER 74
Lauren continued to improve. Patricia struggled to do so. Over the next week, I split my time between the two of them, each needing me in their own way, I needing them in mine.
Patricia had intermittent periods of alertness, if you could call it that, and always between doses of morphine.
It was during one of these more alert intervals that she spoke to me for the first time. Being frail, a whisper was the most she could manage. I put my face close to hers and stroked her hair.
“How’s Lauren?” she asked.
“Growing. Improving. She’s going to be a beauty with her curly black hair, tawny complexion, and blue eyes.”
“Her eye color may change.”
“It might, but her mother’s eyes were blue.”
“I got the paperwork started before … before this happened. It’s all taken care of. Get the documents from Lavender. Lauren is yours.”
“I’ll take care of it soon. That’s not the most important matter at the moment. Getting you well is.”
Patricia did her best to give me a smile through her battered lips. Tears leaked from her still-swollen and bruised eyes. “I’m not doing well.”
“Nonsense. We’re doing everything possible to ensure you get better. We’re a crack team.”
She looked away for a moment then looked back. “This wasn’t the first intrusion, though it was the worst.”
“No one mentioned anything about a prior one.”
“Katherine, I have to make sure you know that …” Her eyes closed.
I tapped her shoulder. “Patricia.” When she opened her eyes, I said, “Know what?”
“We have a traitor in the organization.”
“You can’t believe that.”
“The men knew about the secret passages and the underground facility. They got as far as the first room inside the panel and tried to force me to gi
ve entry, but I wouldn’t. Thank goodness Lavender thought to make each person’s key code individual.” She made a feeble attempt to reach for my hand. I took hers gently into mine. “That’s actually top-secret. No one but Lavender and I know this. Everyone thinks their codes are identical. Now you know, and you aren’t to tell anyone.”
“I won’t. So, when you refused to help them, they hurt you.”
“They would have done it anyway. There’s a type, you know.”
“Too well.”
“At least I prevented them from getting to the women below, as well as our secrets.”
“You saved them, just like you always save everyone, including me.”
“You have to find out who … you have to be careful …”
Patricia’s breathing altered, as did the data on the monitor. Her body lurched as she went into cardiac arrest then crashed. I called a code blue and began CPR. Staff, including Agatha, rushed in with the crash cart. For the next five minutes, we did everything humanly possible.
But she was gone.
Agatha called time of death.
I climbed onto the bed and pulled Patricia into my arms, sobbing without hesitation or restraint, unable to believe this had happened to me again.
Agatha told everyone to leave. She sat on the end of the opposite side of the bed and stared unseeing at the wall.
I don’t know how much time passed before I could speak again, but when I could, I said, “I’ve lost two mothers. I don’t think I can bear it.”
Agatha swiveled to face me. “You must. She’s counting on you.” She came around to my side of the bed and placed her hand on my shoulder. “You need to let us tend to her now.”
I kissed Patricia’s forehead, stroked her hair, and gently released her. “I’ll help.”
“You’ll go. You have an infant who needs you. I insist you take the remainder of the day off and spend it with Lauren. If you can, get some sleep.”
I got to my feet then fell into Agatha’s arms, where we wept until she insisted I leave.