by Ellie Mack
Shuffled footsteps fell from the other side of the room, moving towards my left then out the door into a noisy hallway.
“Devon brought you in last night after you fell. He said you ran from the car and tripped. You have a nasty gash on your head and you’re pretty scraped up everywhere. Your hands and your knees are bandaged. Your clothes, well your new outfit is totally ruined. I will bring you a new outfit before I start my shift. She caressed my forearm as she talked, squeezing my hand gently. I could tell now that the thing between our hands wasn’t gloves, but most likely the bandages.
“Why can’t I see?” I asked her, near panic.
“I think it’s just the bandages. When the nurse comes in, she can remove them. I think your eyes are fine.”
“Ms. Winters, your friend here told me you were awake. How are you feeling this afternoon?”
“Afternoon?”
“Yes, ma’am. It is four o’clock in the afternoon. The night nurse will be in soon to take my place. I’m Brigitte by the way. Let’s take those bandages off, shall we?” She moved towards the bed holding a handful of items. “Dr. Brinker gave permission that we could take them off. You should be cleared to leave by tomorrow.”
She talked in a smooth soothing tone that made Roxanne wonder if she wasn’t normally on the pediatric floor.
The room began to come into focus. The nurse stood at the side of the bed, Tara stood on the other side to my left. Devon sat in the chair behind the nurse, staring at the floor.
“There. Is that better? I’m sure it’s disorienting to wake up in those bandages.” Brigitte cleared the mess from the bed as she talked.
“Can I see?”
“Let me give you your instructions first, then I’ll help you up to the bathroom and you can see in the mirror.”
It must be bad. I tried to reach up with my wrapped hand.
“First rule, no touching or poking. You had a nasty gash on your head when Mr. Miller brought you in. You were quite a mess! You had a five-inch laceration on the right medial cranium. It will be sensitive for a while but Dr. Brinker is the finest doctor we have on staff.
“He had to snip a few hairs out of the way, but if you wear a hat, no one should be able to tell.”
“A hat?” I have never been one to wear hats.
Brigitte proceeded in conveying instructions. The special wash I had to use for the next three weeks, the instructions that I was not to let running water hit the incision under a shower. “How many stitches?”
“You have six stitches internally, and he used surgical adhesive. It shouldn’t leave much of a scar like stitches used to.”
She continued rambling on instructions, but my mind was done. I couldn’t take my usual shower and stand under running water, and I was going to have to wear a hat. Oh, joy. “Can I go to the bathroom now?”
I cut her off. I wasn’t listening anymore, scared as to what I would see in the mirror.
“I’m going to step out and get something to drink. I’ll be back in a few.” Devon rose, throwing his announcement out into the room without looking at me.
“Before you do, Roxy, give me a hug. I need to head home and get ready for work. I’ll drop off some clothes for you when I get back.”
I hugged my sister tightly, wincing at the pain. I hurt all over my entire body. “OK. Thank you for being here when I woke up.”
“You had us both worried. When Devon said you were hurt . . . well I left as soon as he called. Been here ever since.” She hugged me again. “See you in a while. Glad you are going to be OK. You had me worried.”
I watched her leave as the nurse lowered the rail on the bed. As I pulled the coveres back, I could see my knees were bandaged, there was a large bandage over my right thigh, and the flesh was already purple with bruises.
“I bet I look a sight. Like one of my matches.” I tried to offer a smile but it came out weak.
“Mr. Miller said that you used to be an MMA fighter. I could never do that. I would be too afraid of taking a hit.”
“You use head gear and gloves, and a mouthpiece. My first match, I was a bruised and battered mess, but I learned how to hit more and be hit less.”
She eased my legs over the edge of the bed. “The floor is going to be cold, so let’s slip these on.” She tugged on some yellow socks over my feet. Certainly not a fashion statement, but I could tell the floor was cold through the thick socks.
She had tried to prepare me, but when I saw my reflection, I was horrified. Both eyes were black, my nose was sore and tender, my left cheek was bruised with an inch long cut at the center. I lifted my hair piece by piece to get to the inch stripe of shaven head on either side of the incision. It looked like a squiggly lightning bolt, the last inch of it was on the side of my forehead.
I removed the hospital gown to inspect the rest of me. Purple mottled skin covered most of my abdomen, a gash just below my ribs about two inches long that was glued also, and a small spot at the center above my naval. My breasts were swollen and it hurt to lift my arm because of the bruising. There was a small cut just under my arm that looked like one of the under wires from my bra stabbed me.
“How in the world did I end up in such a mess by tripping over a stupid piece of concrete?” I asked my reflection who just stared back through blackened eyes. After several minutes, I opened the door to find the nurse waiting to help me back to the bed.
“I sent notice to the doctor that you were awake, so he’ll be in before six. He’s rarely ever here after six.” She moved the pole with the IV fluid into the spot where it had been beside the bed as she helped me ease onto the bed.
Easing back onto the pillow, trying to find a comfortable position, I was acutely aware of every inch of my body that hurt. I closed my eyes for a moment, wincing from the pain of putting my weight on my hands to lift me further up the bed.
“It’s best if you use the bed for that.” She showed me the buttons to control the bed, raising the head up to where I could be sitting comfortably. Well, almost comfortably. “You are due for some pain meds.”
“Oh, thank God.” I was surprised at how quickly it came out. “Thank you, Brigitte.”
I watched as she injected some sort of medication into the IV tube. A burning sensation stung the back of my hand and soon a strange warmth oozed over my entire body.
“Can I get something to eat? I’m starving.” It came out slurred and broken.
“Sure thing. Supper will be brought up at six, but I can get you a late lunch if you like.
“Yes, please. With coffee.”
She made an entry on the rolling computer.
“And a Coke.”
Brigitte continued tapping on the keys.
“Anything but fish.”
“You’re in luck, the fish was yesterday. How does roast beef sound?”
“Heavenly,” my stomach growled its approval. “Is it possible to get one of those little cups of raspberry sherbet with it?”
“Sure. I had you pegged for the chocolate ice cream, but I can change it to the sherbet.”
“Thank you.”
After a few minutes, she closed the computer. “All set. Your meal should arrive in just a few minutes. If you need anything, just buzz.”
She swiftly walked from the room taking long strides down the hall towards the nurse’ station.
Devon poked his head in. “Is it safe?”
“Safe for what?” I slurred.
“Those gowns are open in the back, you rolled over around two in the morning mooning me.”
If I had not been under the influence of whatever superior drug that Brigitte had injected in, I would have been upset. “Did you like it?”
“I’m a man, Roxy. Of course I did.” He looked down at the seam on his jeans, suddenly fascinated with the threads.
CHAPTER 29
Devon stayed with Roxy, listening to her ramblings. He flipped through a magazine that he’d swiped from the waiting room, not paying attention to what was inside.
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He wanted to be working on his case, but had hit nothing but dead ends. No one seemed to know anything. He wasn’t sure if they were turning a blind eye or that the perps were clever enough not to be seen.
Luke had indicated that his job had something to do with the victims, but Devon didn’t see how that was possible. Never the less, he had started searching for any information that he could find about Cyberpro Dynamics Corporation, and William Reinholz. So far, it hadn’t turned up anything useful.
He had ten victims with the same conditions, found within three blocks of the homeless shelter. None of the local dealers knew anything about a new designer drug that fit the bill, but after the female officers Marcy Biermann and Gail Taylor started making the rounds at the clubs, some of the dealers were pushing for new sources, trying to get their hands on this new designer meth.
The only light shed on anything in this investigation was the bottles of sports drinks manufactured by Cyberpro that he had delivered to Alex. Alex promptly called him that they were a match for all of the victims.
Devon set the magazine next to the phone, leaning forward with his head on his in his hands. There were so many things he wanted to say to Roxy, yet he couldn't muster the courage to tackle even one. He wanted to tell her that he broke up with Tara and they both agreed they were better off as friends. He wanted to tell her that he would start the ball rolling to convict Chad if she would press charges. There wasn't a statute of limitations on sex crimes in their state and the date stamp of the tapes were before her eighteenth birthday. He wanted to tell her he still loved her and always had.
Roxanne was sleeping soundly in the inclined bed. He moved closer, wiping the drool off her lip. Delicately, he lifted the strands of hair to inspect the doctor’s work on her head. He thought that he had lost her for good when she went careening down the slope, crashing in rubble from the burned out building.
Seeing her with a gash on her head and blood trickling down over her cheek, he lost it. He ran to get water and a towel from his gym bag. She nearly impaled herself on a piece of rebar that protruded from the concrete but somehow, she had pitched to the right and avoided it. He called 911 when she lost consciousness.
Time was a privilege that he couldn't afford to waste. Luke's recent death drove that point home. He felt guilty that he hoped for some reason Luke would be out of the picture and he could tell Roxy that he still cared and had never stopped. He never imagined Luke would die. Nevertheless, he would give her time to grieve, then let his feelings be known. He squeezed her hand as he brushed the hair back into place. Just then, his phone rang.
Devon jumped to his feet and quickly walked to the hallway "Miller."
"We've got another one. Over at Broke Warrior Elite Gym."
"Isn't that the place where Roxanne and Luke were training?"
"I believe so."
"One of the trainers."
Devon raked his fingers through his hair, as he let out a huge sigh. "I'll be there in ten." Devon shoved the phone into his jacket pocket as he walked back to Roxy's bed. He bent to kiss her forehead "We need a break you and me."
He paused at the door looking back at Roxanne before leaving.
*****
Ricky Martinez was one of the top trainers in the area. His list of clients included several of the top contenders in the MMA arena. Ricky had been strangled with one of the gyms jump ropes then stuffed inside an equipment locker.
Devon and his partner, Raul Alvarez surveyed the scene. In the weight room and cardio rooms there were surveillance cameras. He spotted one in the main hallway leading to the locker rooms, but none were in this section. He walked over to the line of lockers checking the contents of every locker that didn't have a lock.
"I want to know who uses these lockers and I want to know what's inside each one. I want to know which one our vic used."
As the forensic team worked the scene collecting evidence, the owner of the gym found the records for locker assignment. "28D was assigned to Ricky."
"Open it."
A uniformed officer cut the lock with a pair of bolt cutters. A small duffle bag filled with premeasured needles in several packets of pills was stuffed in the top part of the locker. Another bag held a dozen sports drink bottles hanging from the hooks. Devon recognize the symbol of Cyberpro, but these bottles looked different.
"Let's get this logged and sent to the lab. I want to know exactly what these are and have Alex test these as well." He slid the bottle back into the bag.
For the next two hours, Devon and Raul viewed the tapes from the surveillance cameras. They compared them with the time of death. They watched the gym members come and go, watched Keith and Ricky training their clients.
"Right there!" Devon pointed to a man in a white dress shirt and trousers with sleeked back hair in a ponytail. "Look, right here, Ricky followed him down the hall a few minutes after. Fifteen minutes later, this guy leaves and no more Ricky. Keith found his body at twenty twelve." Devon pointed to the date stamp on the tape.
"Can we get any ID match?"
“Send this to Sean to run through the computer, see if it can come up with a match."
CHAPTER 30
"How's the patient this morning?"
"Sore. In pain."
“I would imagine so, that was quite the nasty spill you took." Dr. Brinker inspected his work and gave instructions. "I'm going to prescribe some pain medication. Do you have someone to drive you?"
"My sister will be off work at four this afternoon."
“You can't drive taking these. You need someone to stay with you for the first forty-eight hours. I will have the nurse give you written instructions as well as things to watch for. We don't want infection to set in.”
Dr. Brinker went over the instructions then said I could be released when I have someone to drive me before he left. That was the best news I have had in a while. As soon as the nurses remove my IV and monitors, I could not wait to get dressed in real clothes. Tara had dropped off my clothes before starting her shift. I moved to sit in the recliner and wait for my sister as I read my discharge instructions. I wondered who would stay with me for forty-eight hours. Tara had to work, Devon had to work, and I seriously doubted that Mike wanted to babysit.
A nurse assistant brought in a lunch tray, lowering the rolling stand so that I could eat in the chair. For hospital food, it smelled amazing. It could be that I was starved, but it was delicious
I stared out the window, savoring my sherbet. There was a light rain, one of those steady drizzles that made it just perfect to stay inside and read a book, or cuddle up if you were lucky enough to have someone to cuddle.
I fought back the urge to cry, thinking of Luke. We had plans for a future together. A future that looked promising and fulfilling. A part of me cursed fate, and God, and everything that played a part in changing the course of our lives.
I wondered if I would ever be happy again. The pain in my heart was far greater than the throbbing in my head or other wounds. Those would heal.
The rain increased, I could see the leaves on the trees being blown around, noticing that the leaves were no longer on the trees. I did a quick mental check. I knew that I had been working in the bar for about six months. Mom had passed away at the beginning of April. Luke’s plane crashed in June. The date that would have been our wedding had come and gone and I wasn’t even aware. It was probably for the best.
I vaguely remember Tara saying something about Thanksgiving. What about Christmas? Did we celebrate? I thought back as I sipped my soda, staring out that window. Yes, there was a gift exchange at the club, Tara and I had a small tree, and Devon came by. Aunt Carol called to check on us.
I shook my head slightly, shaking off the cobwebs. I had been in such a state of grief that I had completely lost track of the seasons, the months, just about everything. I had been operating on autopilot. It was time that I got my head out of my butt and got my act together.
Brigitte came in to check my vital
s. “How was lunch?”
“Great! It hit the spot.” I pushed the rolling stand away from the chair. “Do you by any chance know if my purse is here or if my sister took it with her?”
Brigitte opened a locked cabinet next to the bed and retrieved my bag. “Mr. Miller was with you when they brought you in. He had to leave on a call before your sister arrived and asked if I could lock it up for you.”
She removed the cuff from my arm. “Vitals look good.”
“Brigitte, do you think it would be ok if I went to the gift shop?”
“Sure. But we will send an orderly with you since you’re on pain medication.”
I glanced back out the window. “The rain is soothing. It is not one of those scary thunderstorms, or freezing rain that messes up the highway. It’s the kind that my Mom used to say was so welcomed to help her garden.”
Brigitte glanced out the window. “That’s a good way to look at it. I was aggravated because I wanted to take my son to the park when I got off work today.”
“You have a son?” I turned towards her inquiring.
“Yes. He is the love of my life. Never fails to brighten my day and remind me why I go to work every day. He’s six years old now.” She stepped closer showing me a picture of her and her son on her phone.
“He’s a cutie.”
“Looks just like his Daddy.” Brigitte tucked her phone back into her pocket. “His father was killed in service when he was three. So, now, I am all Tyler has. I had to become organized and grow up a lot in the last few years. But he’s worth it.”
“I’m sorry Brigitte.” My heart went out to her. Having lost Luke I knew how alone she must feel.
“Don’t be. Kevin was a Marine when we met. He was a Marine when he died. I cherish the days we had together. Of course, it took me a while to get past the loss and see the good. All I have to do is look at my son and see a bright sunrise.”
I wanted to comfort her, but instead, she had comforted me. I needed to change my outlook. I needed a new sunrise.
