by JJ Lamb
Here was Neverland, where no one cared or pointed a finger at her for drinking, drugging, and screwing her way through whatever life tossed at her.
But she was cold. Very cold. And her head hurt. She tried to open her eyes, to remember where she’d been, but couldn’t do it. Her lids were too gritty, too heavy.
* * *
The blanket had fallen off Megan Ann. She lay shivering on the sofa. Eddie tiptoed closer. Goose bumps had erupted, spread across her skin.
He stepped in closer and covered her with the blanket, then ran his fingers through her hair. She looked like a beautiful child.
But you aren’t a child, are you?
He bent over, slipped his arms under her, and carried her toward the guest bedroom.
“Eddie, is that you?”
He remained silent.
“What happened?” Her face flushed a bright red. “Did I drink too much? Pass out?”
He continued on, ignoring her questions, and laid her down on the bed. The knife slipped from his hand, bounced off the mattress onto the floor with a dull thud.
He carefully raised her head and placed a pillow beneath it.
The telephone rang again. He tried to ignore it. The message machine picked up:
BRING HER BACK RIGHT NOW, EDDIE, IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU. BRING HER BACK.
He ran into the living room, grabbed the answering machine, and threw it against the wall. The plastic shattered, flew in all directions.
Eddie returned to the bedroom, exhausted. He was so tired he barely had the energy to toss off his clothes and lay down next to Megan Ann. Her pale skin was mottled and her eyes dreamy as her fingers dug into the surrounding thick comforter, clutching, releasing, clutching, releasing.
“Aaron?”
She turned to look at him. “Stay with me, Aaron. Stay with me, baby.”
Her hands were light like fluttering feathers moving across his face, traveling the length of him. Her body rolled, rubbed against him. She straddled his hips, her breasts slid up and down, undulating against the hairs on his chest. He moved inside her and was surrounded by a soft cloud of pleasure. He pumped harder, harder. But a blackness was growing inside of him, turning his bowels to hot coals. It was roiling, building, exploding.
Even though it was smashed, he could still hear the message machine spewing out Father’s summons:
“EDDIE! EDDIE! EDDIE!”
The evil voice reverberated in his head, bringing a tearing pain to his heart. He reached across the bed. Reached, reached down until his fingers curled around the long knife.
Chapter 30
“I hope you have something positive to tell me, Ms. Mazzio,” Alan Vasquez said even before the two of them could sit down. “The police sure haven’t been of much help.”
Gina had been waiting outside his office when he arrived at 8:00 a.m. She’d thought it was better to see him in person — you never knew who might be listening in on a telephone conversation. There were already way too many rumors floating around the hospital, some of which were probably her fault.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t found out much of anything.” Gina said. “The last person to see Arina was Katie Rifka. That was Friday after work, a little after 7:00 p.m. They were supposed to ride the bus home together, but Arina told Katie she’d changed her mind and was going to go shopping.”
A look of keen disappointment spread across the administrator’s face. “What about other nurses in the unit?”
“There aren’t many others. Every department seems to be short-handed.”
“As I know all too well,” he said.
“Apparently Arina didn’t hang out with the other nurses after work. A movie now and then, but that’s all. The word is that she spent most of her time with her boyfriend.”
“Yes, Jorge.” He looked at her a moment before continuing. “And what do they say about, Jorge?”
“From all indications, he’s as worried about her as you are. He’s been calling, coming around the unit.”
“I see,” he said in a manner that made Gina think Jorge wasn’t on Vasquez’s list of favorite people.
“I wish I had something better to tell you.”
“Yes, well, it’s not your fault. It’s just that my sister is beside herself with grief. And I’ve gotten no satisfaction talking to the police, although they now concede she’s a missing person … for whatever good that does.”
“Have you talked to Detective Yee?”
“Once. Now they only take messages. I’ve heard nothing back from anyone.”
“I don’t know what else I can do,” Gina said.
“I only asked on the off chance you might … find out something.” He swiveled his chair around to look out the large picture window behind his desk, something he seemed to do under stress. After a couple of moments, he raised one hand, the index finger pointing upward. “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know immediately if you hear anything else. Anything!”
She was certain she’d heard a tremor in his voice. She wanted to tell him how difficult it was to take care of her work obligations and still get around to talk to people in other departments; wanted to tell him how difficult it was to catch people after work hours, especially since her hours were different than those of the hospital nurses; wanted to tell him how difficult it was to ask about Arina without revealing why she was asking.
Instead, she said quietly, “Yes, I’ll do that.”
* * *
“And just where do you think you’re going, madam?” Tina snipped as Gina clocked in and started for the door.
“Not that I have to explain anything to you, but I’ll be back in a few minutes … after I talk to Lexie.”
“You’re taking time out for a chat while these phones are blinking and winking nonstop?”
“You know, Tina, you keep rattling my chain and you’re going to regret it. Trust me.”
“OOOOOH! I’m shaking in my boots.” She turned to Chelsea: “The Bronx bombshell is going to get me.”
Chelsea ignored both of them.
Gina gave Tina the finger and walked out. She’d made up her mind on the way into work that she needed some time off. The disconnect with Harry, the uncomfortable situation in the Advice Center, and, most of all, the fear that the mysterious caller might be abducting and killing Ridgewood nurses were all getting to be too much for her.
It was time to ask her manager for some personal time off.
* * *
Lexie Alexandros motioned Gina into her office, nodded toward a chair, and continued talking on the telephone without interrupting her conversation.
Gina forced herself to sit quietly, eavesdropping on a boring business call. But she was so antsy and sleep deprived, her eyes felt like two fried eggs ready to pop.
The image almost made her laugh out loud: yellow goo all over everything, maybe splattered across her manager’s mauve silk blouse.
As she sat and waited she read the custom plaque placed prominently on the desk:
Lexie Alexandros, Manager OB/GYN
She again wondered why on earth a grown, professional woman chooses to be called by a little-girl diminutive of Alexandra.
Okay, Alexandra Alexandros would sound pretty ridiculous.
Before she could ponder it further, Lexie concluded her conversation, looked pointedly at her watch, and said, “What can I do for you?”
Gina ignored the implied censure that she wasn’t back in her cubbyhole, on the phones. She’d already decided there was no way to soft soap this.
“I need some time off.”
The manager’s chin tipped up, her eyes narrowed.
“When?”
“Now.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Daggers flew from her eyes. “Are we talking immediately?”
“I’m afraid so.”
In some perverse way Gina was enjoying her manager’s anger. Lexie was the kind of person who always had an answer for everything. Right or wrong. This time, she
seemed almost speechless. She abruptly stood and walked to the office window, turning her back to Gina. The air was rife with her smoldering silence.
“Lexie–”
“You know, I don’t think even you really understand how difficult it’s become to deal with the nursing shortage. The new RN contract gave us some relief, but we’re still stuck with minimum staffing. to make everything function. And now, administration is talking about a six-month freeze on hiring.”
Alexandros spun around to face Gina. “It’s tough and it’s getting tougher. All the hospital managers have been holding their breaths, sucking in their guts while they watch the toll it’s taking, not only on patient care, but on staff morale. Bottom line, I’m at a loss as to how we’re going to make everything function.”
“Hey, maybe things aren’t ideal, but I can tell you from my perspective that moral around here is better than it’s ever been. I can also tell you that I don’t need a lecture about the nursing situation. You don’t get to dump that on my shoulders just because I need some time off.”
“Oh, yes, I do!”
“I don’t see it that way. I need to straighten out some personal things. I need the time.”
“Well, I’ll give you that. At least you asked first.”
“What does that mean?”
Gina was feeling guilty. She knew what a hassle this was going to be for the department. Shelly was gone but that didn’t stop the calls from coming in, and the advice center had been understaffed even before that.
“For example,” Alexandros said, “several departments have nurses who aren’t showing as scheduled. No call-in. No nothing. What kind of professionalism is that?”
Gina said nothing. She had no intention of sharing her thoughts about missing nurses with the manager again. Last time Lexie had made her feel like a nut case with half a brain. And she still didn’t believe Gina about the caller.
“You know the Oncology manager, Leona?” Alexandros said, slipping back into her chair.
“Of course,” Gina said. It was her old department and she kept close track on what happened there, who came and went.
“Today, she’s down three people. You tell me how we’re supposed to run a unit that way?”
“Why do you think there are so many nurses out?”
Lexie stared at Gina. “Don’t tell me you still think someone is ‘stealing’ our nurses.”
“I only ask the question.”
“At the moment, I don’t have an answer, but I’m looking into it.” She paused, took a deep breath. “Anyway, let’s get back to your time-off request.”
“Good idea,” Gina said.
Alexandros started twirling that stray lock of hair she always messed with. Gina couldn’t help wondering why that particular strand of hair didn’t just give up and fall out, considering all the abuse it took.
“Why do you need the time off?”
“I told you, it’s personal.”
“No family emergency, no illness. Just personal.”
“That’s right,” Gina said.
Alexandros stood, making it plain their time together was over.
Gina also stood.
“I can’t give you personal leave at this time. Not without more of a compelling reason than you given me thus far.” She gave a hint of a humorless laugh. “Or rather, the reasons you haven’t given me.”
When Gina left, the door was slammed shut behind her.
She spent the rest of the morning paying minimum attention to the calls that came in, one after another like a fusillade of bullets. Mostly she was on autopilot; answering questions she’d fielded a million times. But when she broke for lunch, she regretted not being more diligent, and hoped she hadn’t caused any complications for the patient callers.
* * *
Gina spotted Helen from Oncology as she moved through the cafeteria line. She’d half-filled her tray before realizing she wasn’t hungry. She’d put most of the food back before sliding into an empty seat next to the Oncology nurse.
“Hey, buddy,” Helen said. “If I didn’t love you, I could have sold that seat for a hefty profit.” When Gina didn’t respond, Helen added, “You still ticked off at me? “
“Not really.”
“That’s great because I’m too freaking tired for a bloody fight.”
Without another word, Helen dug into her salad, then took a huge bite out of a sour dough roll, if one could call consuming half the roll a bite.
While Gina watched her friend chew, she took a tiny bite of her macaroni and cheese, then used her plastic fork to move the food from one spot to another on the plate.
“Harry and I are still on the outs, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Helen’s fork stopped half way to her mouth; it took a moment before she filled her mouth with salad. She spoke as she chewed. “You sure know how to let the good ones get away.”
“Whose side are you on, anyway?”
Helen shook her head. “Harry Lucke is a good nurse and a good man. And they’re both damn hard to find.”
“Maybe.”
“And what did that great guy do to keep your spirits down for more than a week now?”
“Good man or not, he doesn’t believe in me.”
Helen set her fork down on her plate. “You’re not talking about that same screwball who called on the advice line, are you? Or those nurses you keep asking about, making it sound like something may have happened to them?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Excuse me, but between those two issues, I’d take ole Harry anytime. Girl, you are crazy!”
“Maybe I am.”
Gina chewed slowly on a morsel of her cheese-slathered macaroni, decided talking about Harry wasn’t going to make her feel any better. Besides, she was tired of fighting with everyone.
“So I hear you were down three nurses today,” Gina said.
“Yeah. What a morning. Ran my ass off. We had four bone marrow infusions and three codes. Two made it.”
“That’s rough.”
“But how’d you know about the shortfall?” Helen took another forkful of salad that made her cheeks look like a munching rabbit.
“Alexandros told me, while turning me down for a little time off. Seems I’m the biggest reason there’s a nursing shortage, people like me taking time off.”
Helen laughed. “Well, aren’t you the problem?” She held up a hand. “Only messin’ with you. You’re not like that damn Megan Ann!”
“Megan Ann? What about her?”
“She’s one of the three that not only didn’t show, but didn’t even call in. Not all that unusual for her, but still…”
Chapter 31
Her naked body was squeezed against the length of him; her soft skin made his chest ache. Air whistled through his mouth – in and out, in and out. Each exhale made wisps of Megan Ann’s tousled red hair float away from her face, then fall back on her temple like spreading feathers. She was sound asleep, barely moved as he slipped a hand around her full breast, gently caressed the nipple with his thumb. She stirred, ground her hip against the swelling between his legs.
Eddie forced himself to turn away, slid out from under the covers; what he really wanted to do was bury himself in her. He circled the bed, reached into the side table where he’d hidden the kitchen knife.
His heart raced, skipped a beat. He studied her face: mouth open, a tiny stream of drool seeped onto the pillow and was crushed under her head.
The knife felt heavy.
He reached out and touched her nail-bitten little finger.
So tiny.
A rush of warmth swept in before fear could follow. Could he trust her? He’d believed in Mother … and she’d left him.
Would he lose Megan Ann, too?
He carried the large chef’s knife out of the bedroom, tip toed into the living room and stopped. He balanced the blade on his palm; he’d had it since he was fifteen, just after he’d tried to run away – a gift, or threat, from Fathe
r. He was never sure which.
Eddie stared at the sharp edge, the long point.
He had never killed anything, animal or human.
Holding the knife like a weapon made him feel stronger. He lunged forward into a threatening stance. Father’s face floated in his mind.
The target.
Jab. Jab.
Eddie then stared at his naked body in the mirror. He looked strong; bunches of muscles hugged his skeleton. But inside, he knew there was a soft, pliable nothingness. Fear snaked through his gut, settled in his belly.
After he returned the knife to the kitchen, he stepped back into the living room, stood naked in front of the picture window. He used thumb and forefinger to burnish an angel medallion that hung from a chain around his neck. Mother had given it to him the day she left. It was supposed to protect him, to keep him safe.
Safe from what? From Father? Why did I ever believe a silly piece of metal could do that?
He hadn’t known Mother was going to leave that day. After she’d given him the medallion and told him what it was for, she stood for a long time just holding him by the shoulders. She’d looked at him with large solemn eyes, the same eyes he saw every time he looked at his reflection in a mirror. She’d opened her mouth once, twice as if to say something … something important. Then she’d turned and gone out the door, didn’t even say goodbye,
What was it she’d wanted to say? That she loved him?
No, he was almost certain that wasn’t it.
His mind’s eye slid over the memory, picked at it, slowly uncovered the minute details. Each time something would be different, revealing a new swatch of detail: the clothes she wore – green blouse; jeans that were baggy and hung away from her hips; body movements – stiff and tight like she hurt all over; eyes that were sad, sadder than usual.
She’d looked both at him, and at something behind him, over his shoulder.
What?
Eddie remembered turning, trying to see what she saw. But he’d seen nothing, nothing but the door that led down to the butcher shop, with its ever-present smell of animal flesh.
