Death Grip

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Death Grip Page 7

by Barbara Ebel


  Late yesterday, she had made a decision and asked the extra volunteer and part-time ranger to come again for another day or two. Although she had not told him yet, there was still no sense in having Jae back to work so soon. She picked up her cell phone and gave him a buzz.

  “Hey, partner. You feeling any better?”

  “I suppose,” Jae lied.

  “Stay put because I’ve got you covered today.”

  “It figures. I’ll take you up on it. I need all the sleep I can get.” He scanned his living room and was glad she hadn’t popped in. Empty mugs, bowls, dirty laundry, and unread newspapers dotted the chairs and table. “Any news about Twist?”

  “I’m calling the vet. If I find out anything definitive, I’ll let you know.”

  She hung up and eyed the time on her phone. Early staffers should be at the animal hospital by now, so she called.

  “This is Patty Caye. I’m calling about Twist.”

  “Ranger Caye,” the vet answered, “your dog’s routine lab work is normal except for the slight renal dysfunction, which we corrected with IV fluids. He’s anorexic and lethargic, however, so I want to run more tests. The gold standard testing option I’d like to do goes to a special laboratory, has a long turnaround time, and a high cost. That will delay a diagnosis. In the meantime, I can do a serologic screening test.”

  “You are making me more concerned that his problem may be serious.”

  After a silence, the vet said, “If the screening test is positive, I will still have the other test in the works to confirm the result. Going further with the dog’s work-up is all up to you.”

  She put her hand up to her mouth. “Of course. Absolutely. I would never contemplate not doing what must be done for an animal’s welfare.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. You are not a ranger for nothing, but you’d be surprised what people don’t do for their pets. This job is sometimes full of sorrow and heartache.”

  Wanting to massage Curley’s ears, Patty crouched down in front of him. “Please call me right away when you learn of any test results.”

  -----

  Annabel sprang out of the driver’s car and into the rain. She dashed into the downtown internal medicine department’s building and stopped at the ground floor cafeteria for a cup of coffee. She upgraded her morning selection to a mocha cappuccino, loaded on her backpack, and carried her delicacy up to the small auditorium to attend grand rounds.

  All the students rotating on the service were seated or filtering in as well as most of the residents and attendings. A few rows down, she spotted Bob and Jordan and scooted into their aisle; Stuart followed behind her.

  “Good morning, y’all,” she said.

  “This should be worthwhile,” Stuart said while reading the topic of the lecture on the screen. “Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome or WPW.”

  The senior resident lecturer on stage fiddled with the microphone as a tech person adjusted wires.

  “What the heck is that?” Annabel asked.

  “If you don’t know, then the lecture will benefit you that much more,” Stuart said.

  Jordan sat on the other side of Bob and leaned forward. “You mean to tell me that you are clueless about WPW? And you recently cared for a patient with atrial fibrillation?”

  Annabel rolled her eyes. “In that context, now it sounds familiar. Something about an accessory pathway for electrical conduction in the heart.”

  “You better understand what normal is before you learn what’s abnormal,” Jordan said. “Normal conduction is through the His-Purkinje system.”

  Annabel scrunched up her forehead. Since she finished cramming antibiotic information into her brain, she also better bone up on the electrical ins and outs of the heart. Like Jordan mentioned, she obviously didn’t cover the subject adequately with her atrial fibrillation patient.

  “You better know how to recognize WPW on an EKG,” Jordan added with a smirk.

  Bob leaned further into his chair as if he was in the direct cross fire between the two of them. Now Annabel’s temper was seething hot like her cappuccino.

  “Just because you’re going into cardiology doesn’t make you better than me,” Annabel retorted.

  “Interventional cardiology,” he corrected her.

  “Well … excuse me. You may have memorized an index card’s worth of heart anatomy and function, but not much more about anything else.”

  “What a joke.”

  “You are a joke. Although Bob, Stuart, and I would never do such a thing, you needed to cheat on your mid-term exam.”

  Jordan’s eyes blinked in succession. His mouth opened, poised for a rebuttal. “Liar.”

  Bob turned his head toward Annabel and his glance fell on Stuart, who shook his head.

  Annabel tried to steady her cup as she took a sip. The thick-spectacled resident in the front began his talk and she swore that she would remember his lecture on Wolff-Parkinson-White syndrome.

  -----

  After the lecture, Annabel and Bob hurried to the elevator.

  “Can I hitch a ride with you to the hospital?” Annabel asked.

  “Sure. Have you started using Uber?”

  “Driving back and forth to the hospital, yes.”

  “Does it feel weird riding in the back seat of some stranger’s car?”

  “Not anymore. And if I talk to the driver, so much the better. Everyone has a story.”

  Bob let her step out of the elevator first and they headed for his sedan. The rain had tapered to a drizzle as they both averted the pools of water in the asphalt. They buckled up and Bob started the engine.

  “So,” Annabel said, “what’s your take on that exchange between me and Jordan this morning?”

  “You didn’t need that. Just let it go.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “You saw him cheat?”

  “Like his life depended on it.”

  Bob concentrated on weaving through the parking lot. She wanted to vent some more, but he didn’t seem focused on listening to her. Later, Annabel’s afternoon went by uneventfully; she was taking care of fewer patients than the other students. She grabbed her taxi service ride at the end of the afternoon and spoke little with the driver, who was also absorbed in his own thoughts. After getting out, she bounded up the stairs to her apartment. She only had an hour before meeting Dustin and her sister might be nearing Cincinnati. The door swung open as she put her key in the keyhole.

  Her sister stood there wearing blue jeans and a V-neck sweater. Her hazel eyes squinted after the long drive and her light brown hair was perfectly brushed.

  “You made good time,” Annabel said, “and you look like you’re ready for your date with Jordan.”

  Nancy grabbed a white paper bag on the counter and handed it to her.

  Annabel peeked in. “Homemade cookies from home.”

  “Compliments of Aunt Mary and Mom.” She swiped her hair and grinned. “I’m tired, but I’m so excited about going out that it doesn’t matter.”

  Annabel nodded. “Do you mind if you follow me while we talk?”

  “No. Sorry. You’ve got a date, too.”

  Annabel picked out casual pants and a button-down blouse. “How is everyone at home?”

  Nancy sat on her sister’s bed. “Mom is perfectly fine and Dad is slightly stressed about the usual changes in medicine. Electronic medical records and all that. Casey is his usual loveable self and Mary is frazzled that she’s not painting as much as she should. I think the twins are taking up more time than anyone thought would be possible, but Melissa and Tommy are an absolute blast.”

  Annabel slid on silver earrings while listening. “Has Dad heard from Rachel? Anything about Julia?”

  Nancy shook her head. “No. Maybe we’ll see our half-sister when she’s all grown up.”

  “We may not want to.” Annabel turned from the mirror. “I’m out of here. What is your arrangement with Jordan?”

  “He texted yesterday. He’ll be here by six thir
ty.”

  “Don’t wait up for me and have fun … if that’s possible,” she mumbled. “I’m on call tomorrow so I won’t be real late and I also have to get up real early.”

  “Bye,” Nancy said as her sister disappeared out the door.

  -----

  Annabel pressed the car remote. It had been days since she needed to use her Nissan. She frowned at her current parking space; it would surely be gone when she came home.

  She avoided the interstate and drove along local roads thinking about Dustin Lowe. Their history bridged over both their personal and professional lives. Dustin and his partner, Edgar, had arrested a man who robbed her at a gas station; a planned robbery after he lured her in through a social dating app. In her mind, the hook-up was designed to be more than a date … possibly a one-night stand … and the crook had divulged that to the police officers.

  Dustin, therefore, was privy to Annabel’s “dating” indiscretion. Since he and his partner had already been seeing Annabel and her attending doctor in a social context, Dustin had decided to back away from her and not see her in that manner anymore.

  However, their lives continued to cross because of Dustin’s police work. First, due to a schizophrenic patient, and secondly, due to the suspicious death of a Parkinson’s disease patient that she was helping take care of. Annabel proved to be a medical sleuth, and Dustin, quite a law enforcement officer.

  She did not think of it before, but the two of them - a med student and a police officer - made a stellar team. They both had put away a psychiatric patient for his violent rampage, but also a medical assistant who did not dispense drugs in the normal way.

  It was remarkable they were going out again. He knew her one shady secret and yet realized there was so much more to her than that.

  She soon pulled on a side street, spotted Dustin’s black Acura, and parked. After moisturizing her lips with lip gloss, she pulled open the door of the diner and spotted Dustin facing her way in a booth. He slid out and they met halfway. He leaned in unexpectedly and gave her a quick hug.

  “For the dynamic situations and cases we’ve been part of … together,” he said softly in her ear.

  As she inched onto the soft bench, she shivered. He had just echoed and hugged her for the things she had thought about on the way over.

  “Let’s get you something to drink,” he said and waved toward the nearby waitress.

  Annabel smiled to herself over Dustin’s most memorable facial feature. The dimple in his chin could easily fit the tip of her pinky finger. He had never mentioned his age, but he was around her age or slightly older. His thick black hair was slightly receding and the tight ringlets on the top of head weren’t styled that way; they were as natural as when he was a little boy. For such a high-stress and responsible job, he did not give off vibes like he was high on adrenaline all the time, but instead oozed mature confidence and tranquility.

  “How about bringing a fresh cup of decaf?” Annabel asked when the waitress arrived.

  Thin hair grew above the waitress’s upper lip and her eyebrows practically covered her upper lids. She took out an order pad and eyed them both.

  Dustin moved his water to the side. “I’ll take the same. Cream and sugar too.”

  Annabel smiled when she left and chose her words carefully. “I’m glad you invited me. I know it’s just a ‘thank you’ for helping you procure that medical arrest. You probably rarely need anyone’s help, let alone from a med student.”

  He leaned over the table. “You’re welcome, but I also wanted to see you. I was hoping we could date again … or we can reserve that decision until after we finish our food.”

  She gave him a gentle nod. “I like that idea. That means there’s a lot riding on bacon and eggs for dinner.”

  “Ha! It better be good.”

  The waitress put down a bowl of creamers and their coffee. “Would you two like to order or spend time with the menu?”

  “I’m ready,” Annabel said. Dustin nodded and she added, “Scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, and two pancakes.”

  “A cheese omelet, sausage, and two pancakes as well,” Dustin said.

  “Gotcha.” She grabbed the menus and went toward the kitchen.

  “How is your partner?” Annabel asked.

  “Edgar is fine. We both find our jobs to be demanding and rewarding at the same time. Sometimes we think the severity of crime is increasing as well as the nut jobs we come across every day. How about you? Are you surviving medical school, the wards, and all that studying you must do?”

  “Some days more than others. I think medical students could study their whole life, but unless there are real patients to practice on and learn from, nothing would sink in.”

  “Ahh … that’s why they call it the ‘practice’ of medicine.”

  “For sure.”

  It took time for their orders to arrive, but neither one of them cared. The view and the conversation across the formica table was stimulating.

  CHAPTER 10

  Dustin sprinkled salt on his omelet and slid the shaker across the table to Annabel.

  “Pepper?” he asked.

  “No thanks.”

  “Me neither. These are almost as good as my mom’s eggs when I was growing up.”

  “We must have been born to similar moms, although my parents put cold cereal on the table a lot.”

  “Which ones?”

  “For starters, Rice Krispies and Corn Flakes. And, unlike other kids, I never knew what Captain Crunch tasted like. My parents said they would never feed us ice cream and cake for breakfast, so why should they allow us to go to school after eating a cereal bowl full of sugar.”

  “Lethargy would have set in by the time the first class started if you ate them. So what was your favorite? Rice Krispies or Corn Flakes?”

  “Listening to the snap, crackle, and pop was more fun. More often, I ate rice and not corn cereal. What about you?”

  “The usual choices on our breakfast table were Rice Krispies and Corn Puffs.” He beamed a smile and couldn’t look away from her. “I, too, preferred rice krispies.”

  “That’s a coincidence. However, when we were growing up, the huge variety of breakfast cereals that exist now were not available.” She maintained eye contact. “What cereal do you prefer now?”

  He put down his fork. “Actually, I can’t remember the last time I ate any. I like oatmeal, so I do the quick and easy thing once in awhile and throw together one or two instant packages.”

  “Get out. Me too. I buy the original without all the added flavor of apples and brown sugar. The non-instant is better, but I’m always in too much of a hurry to make it. I keep granola around too, but only use it to snack on.”

  “Seems like we both like pancakes too,” he said, pointing to her side plate. He grinned a mischievous smile. “Perhaps one of these mornings, we can eat breakfast together at my place.”

  “Perhaps,” she said, flashing a warm smile.

  -----

  Nancy opened the blinds to Annabel’s front window and scanned up and down the sidewalk and street. There was no sign of Jordan and he was fifteen minutes late. If he was running tardy and delayed somewhere, at least he could text or call her. How ironic that he was the one not on time. After all, she had planned and packed, and then driven for six hours from Nashville, keeping the time set for their date. All he needed to do was come over.

  However, he was a medical student. Perhaps he had been delayed in the hospital. Maybe Annabel had been luckier and had escaped on time. She stepped away from the window, went into the bathroom mirror, and dabbed on eye shadow.

  She tried not to speculate as to why he was late. Now overdue a full thirty minutes, she finally sat on a kitchen stool and texted him. It was the right thing to do, she thought, because there were more legitimate reasons why a person could be held up than explanations that are frivolous. What if he’d been in an accident?

  Jordan, I thought you said six thirty.

  Nancy c
ontinued to turn over the phone with the pink smartphone protection case. How appalling that she received no reply. Her feelings felt more injured by the minute. She swallowed her pride; she needed to know if he was coming or not.

  Jordan, I’d appreciate an answer. Aren’t we going out? Are you on your way to my sister’s apartment?

  While she waited for a text reply, she kept a ray of optimism that a rap would sound at the door and off she would go with the smart, future cardiologist. Instead, a ding came from her phone.

  We shouldn’t go out together. The best thing for me to do is to stay away from the Tilson girls. You can ask your sister. It’s all her fault.

  Nancy’s heart thumped in her chest. The message was loud and clear … he wasn’t coming. She believed it was not because she wasn’t smart enough for him or pretty enough. He stood her up because of her friggin’ sister. Why? How could Annabel have done whatever mean or spiteful thing she had done to him? Obviously, whatever it was had repercussions to her potential relationship with him.

  She wanted to scream and she wanted to cry. She had carved out the weekend for him and had made a huge effort to travel all the way up to Cincinnati.

  She didn’t know what stunt her sister had pulled with Jordan to cause him to stand her up, but whatever it was, her sister qualified as a bitch. With a capital “B.”

  -----

  Lost in their conversation, the time flew by. Dustin finally picked up the waitress’s bill and looked out the window.

  “May I chip in with the bill?” Annabel started to dig for her wallet.

  Dustin chuckled. “This little thing? Not at all. I would like to splurge on an elegant dinner for us in the near future.” He tilted his head.

  “Is that a promise?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I accept.”

  They slid out from the booth and Dustin paid at the cash register. He opened the diner door and, once outside, he placed his hand lightly on her waist as they headed around the corner. At her car, she turned around and leaned against the driver’s door. An old-fashioned street light shined down.

 

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