by C. J. Miller
* * *
Rafe felt strange having a day with nothing to do. Since arriving in Dead River, he’d been working too much at the clinic and tying up loose ends with his parents’ estate. With Danny at school, Rafe figured it was a good time to clean the house. He and Danny had an agreed-on chores schedule, which they somewhat stuck to, but the house was messy. Rafe liked to give Danny his privacy and space in his bedroom, but laundry was everywhere: on Danny’s bed, on the floor, on his desk chair. Rafe grabbed an empty clothes basket and began tossing in dirty items. When he’d picked up the laundry, he started a load in the washing machine. Good thing he had a big washer. With football practice, Danny had enough muddy, sweaty gym clothes to fill the load. Rafe added extra detergent.
Rafe also picked up in Danny’s bathroom, pleasantly surprised it was reasonably clean. He’d thought he would have needed to drag in the garden hose and coat the room in bleach before squirting it down.
Danny was a good kid. Not a huge bombshell based on who had raised him, but Rafe had expected some acting out. Grief was a complex emotion and adolescents often had difficulties dealing with it. For that matter, so did most adults.
When he’d tidied up, he decided to spend time in his office. A friend from New York had emailed him some journal papers discussing cutting-edge virology and epidemiology breakthroughs and he had the files that Gemma had given him to read.
Though he found the articles interesting, especially in light of his progress in the lab, Rafe’s thoughts returned to Gemma again and again. She’d been in his life for so long, from the time they were children onward, but some of his strongest memories of her were from high school.
Back then, she’d been innocent and sweet, a quality missing from most of the women Rafe had known. He was interested in her, but she was off-limits. She was Theo and Flint’s sister, she was younger and he didn’t want to be involved with a woman who came with complications. Even when he was a hormonally-charged teenager, he’d recognized she wasn’t a woman whom he could take out for the night and be hot and heavy with and then forget about.
Same applied now, which made it more bewildering that he was sleeping with her. He knew better. He knew he was leaving. He didn’t want any more ties to this place.
It was a point of contention between him and Gemma, even if she acted as if she was fine with it. They’d addressed it poorly, so they would either ignore it for the rest of his time in Dead River or eventually discuss it calmly and reasonably.
The hard part was that he wanted to do it again. He wanted Gemma in his bed, preferably for the duration. He felt like a jerk asking her to carry on with him when he knew no future could come of it.
But all the rationalizations in the world didn’t make the desire go away.
* * *
Gemma was overreacting. No chance an employee of the clinic would intentionally harm patients. Why would Dr. Rand? If he had made a mistake, she understood. Everyone did and despite some patients’ expectations, doctors were human. It was a huge leap to move from a mistake to intentionally harming someone.
They had taken the Hippocratic oath, swearing to practice medicine honestly and help those they could. None of them were working at the clinic for the money. Big-dollar salaries weren’t available in Dead River.
Gemma decided to put her mind at ease. She would check their computer records. It was faster than looking through the paper records, and unlike paper records that could be altered or destroyed, their computer records were backed up and any changes recorded. She’d need to be careful though. Every record accessed was tracked for patient privacy purposes.
Though she knew it was wrong to review Dr. Rand’s cases without a medical reason, she felt it was a matter of life and death. If Dr. Rand was hurting patients, either through negligence or overt actions, she had a moral obligation to stop him.
Gemma opened the medical records application on the computer in the reception area. She started her search, selecting the patients who had been more critical and whose cases had been noteworthy enough to stand out in her memory.
Case after case of Dr. Rand coming to the rescue. But she couldn’t find the same types of incidents for Dr. Moore and Rafe. They’d also had their share of tough cases and judgment calls that could have gone either way, but none where heroic measures taken to save a patient resulted in the patient dying.
Rafe had only worked at the clinic for a short time. He didn’t have nearly the number of cases that Dr. Rand had. Before they had hired Rafe, they’d had an open position on the staff and with it going unfilled for so long, Dr. Rand and Dr. Moore had worked longer hours. Occasionally, they’d hire a temporary doctor to fill in over vacations and holidays, but otherwise, Dr. Rand and Dr. Moore had been a capable, committed doctor team. Dr. Rand had more experience as a doctor. Perhaps Dr. Moore more often referred difficult cases to Dr. Rand, forcing him to make the hard treatment decisions for patients at the clinic.
Had Dr. Rand been attempting to play hero with Jessica because they were otherwise powerless to stop the virus? Finding a cure wasn’t going well. Dr. Rand hadn’t spoken of it to her, but he had worked diligently in the lab without results.
Gemma felt disloyal for questioning him.
Mentally arguing it didn’t lead her to any conclusions. Her gut told her something wasn’t right. Maybe she could take a look at Dr. Rand’s job history and call someone he previously worked with to find out if any strange incidents had occurred. She’d have to be careful. She didn’t want to smear Dr. Rand’s reputation if she was wrong.
Normally, Gemma chose the safe, stable option. Sleeping with Rafe had been a lust-based decision. Was pursuing this also emotion-based? It had been her best friend who’d been the patient who had almost died. Gemma had no objectivity about the matter.
Gemma called Rafe. He sounded distracted when he answered the phone.
“Rafe, I have a string of suspicious cases,” Gemma said.
“Is this Chief Colton or Gemma? Since when does a nurse work suspicious cases?” Rafe asked.
Gemma was standing outside the clinic with her cell phone so that Dr. Rand couldn’t overhear her. She would have laughed, but she was too worried and too cold.
“I didn’t review every case Dr. Rand has handled, but I found a few where the results don’t add up. Wrong diagnoses or incomplete treatment or bizarre turns of events leading to someone being hurt or killed.”
“Gemma, we’re tired and overworked. I don’t think it’s fair to look at another clinician’s records and scrutinize them. We’ve all had those tough cases, when we gave it everything we had and it wasn’t enough.”
He was understandably defensive. In a litigious world, doctors had to protect themselves and stand up for each other. They weren’t miracle workers. They were people with education and experiences that should allow them to make the right calls.
But Gemma didn’t think this was a case of wrong decision-making. “I’m not accusing a good doctor of practicing bad medicine. I’m saying there’s a pattern of behavior that needs another look.”
“I’m not the person to talk to about this. After what Dr. Rand accused Danny of, I don’t like Dr. Rand as a person, but I can’t find fault with him as a doctor. His methods are good. His patients like him. Maybe you should bring it up with Dr. Moore. She’s worked with him longer.”
Gemma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He was blowing her off. “You’re my friend, Rafe. I’m bringing this to your attention because I trust you. If you don’t want to be involved, I understand, but you can at least be my sounding board.”
“I can listen, but I can’t be objective.”
“I understand.” Gemma told Rafe what she had discovered in the various cases.
“It does sound strange,” he said, conceding the point. “I’ll be aware and maybe I’ll talk to Dr. Rand about some of hi
s cases,” Rafe said. “Especially what happened with Jessica. If respiratory distress is a new symptom of the virus, we need to be prepared to address it with our other patients.”
She liked the sound of Rafe asking some questions. Dr. Rand didn’t like her after the incident with Theo and Gemma guessed that Dr. Rand would point the finger at her or Jessica as being at fault. If Rafe pressed Dr. Rand about the incident, maybe he’d learn something important.
“Gemma, still there?” Rafe asked.
“I’m here,” she said.
“You want to come by after your shift?” he asked.
She did. Having dinner with Rafe, maybe watching a movie with him and Danny would be a great end to the day. A sleepover with Rafe was better. She stopped herself before the thought ran away with her. After the day she’d had, she was better off going home, eating dinner alone and going to bed early. “Maybe another time. I have to go. I’ve been outside long enough, and Dr. Rand will be looking for me.”
She and Rafe said goodbye and Gemma returned to the clinic.
Though she dreaded talking to him, she needed to check in with Dr. Rand to find out what he needed her to do.
“Gemma, are you okay?” he asked, meeting her in the hall outside the virus wing.
“I’m shaken and worried,” she said. It wasn’t the reaction she had expected from him. She had expected him to be accusatory and his dislike for her to be more plain. He seemed sympathetic.
“I know Jessica is your friend. I may have reacted harshly to you in her room, but I was worried about her. Now that she’s stable, I think she’ll be fine.”
He was being nice. Gemma had been involved in every-moment-counted medical issues where she had been rude or sharp and it wasn’t a personal attack. Dr. Rand almost seemed apologetic, though he hadn’t said the words. Was she wrong about him?
* * *
Gemma stripped off her scrubs and took a hot shower. She should have taken Rafe up on his offer to visit after work. She didn’t feel like being alone. Too much work and no play left her a lonely woman.
It was part of the reason she had reached out to the wrong people in nursing school and why she hadn’t seen Jackson’s betrayal coming. When she’d left Dead River, it was the first time she had been away from home for any lengthy period of time. Away from her grandmother and brothers, she had felt a freedom she hadn’t before. No expectations and no judgments from others. What she hadn’t expected was how behind she was in school. Her small high school hadn’t been state of the art in science or math and her education was lacking. She’d scrambled to keep up with her peers.
Gemma climbed out of the shower, dried off and changed into warm pajamas. A quick dinner in front of the television, a little reading and then she’d sleep.
An hour later, Gemma returned to her bathroom to brush her teeth before bed.
She froze in the doorway to the bathroom.
In pink lipstick, her pink lipstick, words were written on the mirror. “Shut up or die.”
Gemma ran from the room. She had been home all night. The message hadn’t been on the mirror before dinner. Someone had been inside her home.
* * *
Rafe waited with Gemma on her neighbor’s porch while Flint and his deputies looked around her home and took pictures of the scene.
“I’m so sorry this happened, Gemma,” Rafe said. She’d been upset earlier in the night about Jessica and the possibility that a mistake had been made. Now, someone had come into her home and left a warning.
“Do you believe me now?” Gemma asked.
“About Dr. Rand? You think he did this?” Rafe asked.
“He knows I was looking at his patient files.”
Rafe didn’t think she could automatically assume the threat had been left by Dr. Rand. She had brought her concerns to Rafe earlier that day. When would Dr. Rand have had time to plan this? “He has no reason to do this to you.”
“Unless he thinks I suspect him,” Gemma said.
Rafe didn’t know what to believe. Who wanted Gemma to shut up and about what? “Flint will speak to everyone at the clinic, at least to warn them.” Again. “If Dr. Rand did this, he won’t have an alibi.”
“You don’t believe me,” Gemma said.
He didn’t want to upset her further by casting doubts on her suspicions. “I believe everything you’ve told me. What I don’t believe is that Dr. Rand is the person behind the attacks against the clinic and the town.”
“We should start keeping a running list of the suspects,” Gemma said. “We have Hank Bittard, the murderer, Jimmy Johnson, the thief, Dr. Rand, questionable medicine, and the person who attacked me, you and Dr. Goodhue.”
The number of problems in the town was stacking up. Rafe blamed the quarantine. It was making people crazy to be trapped in Dead River, and they were acting out.
“There’s enough going on that you should stay with me. You’ve been attacked twice and tonight is another warning.”
“Whoever came into my home could have attacked me. They didn’t. Maybe you’re right and we’re dealing with multiple criminals.”
“That doesn’t do anything to convince me that you’re safer alone. Someone managed to break into your home without you hearing them. It could have been worse than make-up on a mirror.” Whoever had left the message could have killed her. Rafe couldn’t stand the idea of Gemma alone in her house.
“Okay,” Gemma said.
That easy? “You’ll stay with me?” Rafe asked.
“I could stay at Gram Dottie’s, but it’s too far from the clinic. We can look out for each other and I can make breakfast for Danny.”
“I make him breakfast,” Rafe said.
Gemma lifted a brow. “Cereal isn’t making him breakfast.”
She was right, but Rafe didn’t want her to think he was a negligent foster parent. “You can make him breakfast if that’s what he wants.”
“He’s a teenaged boy. Of course he wants food,” Gemma said.
Flint crossed the yards between them, a serious expression on his face.
“Find anything?” Gemma asked.
“We’re analyzing the scene,” Flint said.
“In the meantime, I’m planning to stay with Rafe. I don’t feel safe here.”
Flint looked as if he might throttle Rafe. “You should stay with Nina and me.”
“I’d feel weird, like I’m in your way. Rafe has offered to let me stay with him. We have similar shifts, sometimes the same shift, at the clinic, so it’s more convenient.”
“I don’t know, Gemma. Rafe was attacked the other night too,” Flint said.
“I could be attacked anywhere. It’s safer to be together. I’ll be fine with Rafe and Danny.”
At the mention of Danny, Flint seemed to relax. Probably because Flint figured the teenager would be a good barrier between them.
Gemma faced her brother. “Can I grab a few essentials?”
Flint nodded. “Sure.”
Gemma smiled at Rafe. “Give me five minutes and then I’ll meet you at your place.”
Rafe nodded and waved once. Flint turned to him and Rafe waited for Flint to lash at him. When he spoke, Flint was surprisingly calm. “What are you doing with Gemma?”
Rafe knew Flint wasn’t asking about tonight. He was asking what they were doing together, for a definition of their relationship. “We work together. We’re friends.” Friends who were sleeping together.
“Rafe, this isn’t high school. Gemma’s not a notch on your bedpost.”
Flint was protective of his sister, but his assessment of Rafe’s intentions was unfair. “I’m not interested in Gemma for sport.”
Flint tilted his hat back on his head. “Gemma’s been hurt before. I don’t want her hurt again.”
“W
hat makes you think I would hurt Gemma? I care about her.”
“If you care about her, then maybe you’ll keep your distance. If she falls for you and you leave, then it’s the rest of us who have to pick up the pieces,” Flint said.
Gemma knew that Rafe wasn’t sticking around. She also knew not to fall for him. “Gemma and I are adults. We have it under control.”
Except as he walked away from Flint, he knew when it came to Gemma, he didn’t have control.
* * *
Annabelle was sitting quietly in the corner of Rafe’s living room, playing with two dolls she had brought from home.
“How was school today?” Molly asked Annabelle.
The little girl had been uncharacteristically quiet since Molly had picked her up from school. Danny was upstairs doing his homework.
“Fine.” She didn’t look up from her dolls.
“Do you want a snack? I think Dr. Rafe has some oranges,” Molly said, knowing it was one of Annabelle’s favorite foods.
“No.”
Molly crossed the room and sat on the floor in front of Annabelle. “Do you not like playing here? Because we can go play at your house if you want.” Gemma’s was off-limits after the break-in, but a quick call to Tom and they could relocate. Danny could either come with them or be alone for a few hours.
“No.”
“You don’t want to go home?” Molly asked.
Annabelle broke down into tears. “I don’t want you. I want my mommy.”
Molly’s heart tripped. The depth and strength of the little girl’s hurt was palpable. Molly would do anything to make it stop. “Let’s call your mom, okay? Dr. Rafe has a computer we can use to video-chat with her.”
Annabelle whimpered her agreement, but at least she’d stopped sobbing.
“I know it’s not the same as being with your mom. I’ll call Dr. Rafe to ask for the password for the computer.” Molly tried to inject some warmth into her voice, but she felt defeated. It was getting harder and harder for people in the town to cope with the virus and the effects it was having on families.
