She pulled one of the hangers from the rod inched her way along the wall until she was back in the bathroom. She washed the hanger with soap and hot water, straightened the wire, and twisted one end into a small hook.
“Have to. Have to!”
The sound of her voice soothed her as she sat on the edge of toilet seat, legs spread wide. Eyes closed, she slowly inched the wire inside her vagina. She tried to be careful, gentle, but almost immediately the hook tapped against her cervix, a barrier she couldn’t get through.
With a deep breath, she counted to five and plunged the wire inside as far as she could, and then twirled it around and around.
Spasms of pain exploded into blinding red and orange bursts; her screams filled her world. She fell to the floor and a gush of fluid raced down her legs.
“It has to be gone! Gone! Gone! Gone!” She screamed against the pain as she continued to twirl the wire hanger.
“Jody?”
From somewhere far away, her mother was screeching her name again and again.
Everything was spinning; the light was fading, fading, gone.
* * *
Jody heard a buzz and a muffled noise of something moving around her. She opened her eyes; she was in the back of a truck filled with medical equipment.
“Where am I?”
“Hi, Jody, I’m John, an EMT” said a male voice. “We came to your house to help. We’re on the way to the hospital.”
“Tell me.”
“What?”
“Did I get rid of that ... that ... thing?”
The EMT said nothing.
Everything was roiling inside. She screamed at the top of her lungs. “Tell me! Tell me it’s gone!”
Someone else took her hand. She turned her head and saw her mother on the other side.
“You could have told me, Jodie, told me anything.” Her mother’s face looked strange and old. “I could have helped you ... you didn’t have to do this.”
Jody turned back to the EMT, who was adjusting an IV line that disappeared somewhere into her arm, someplace she couldn’t see. His eyes were kind, concerned, and without saying it, they told her she was in bad trouble.
“How’s the pain, kid?”
“It hurts really bad. She grabbed his jacket. “I’m ... I’m so scared.”
“Let me give you more morphine. It’ll help.”
Jodie nodded, then turned to her mom, who was sobbing. “I’m sorry, mom, I didn’t want to disappoint you. It just happened ... please forgive me.”
Her mother kissed her hand, said something, but Jody was growing so dizzy and she was falling, falling...
Down into nothingness.
* * *
Harry scanned through Jody’s history: sixteen years old, twelve plus weeks pregnant, tried to self abort. Post surgery: Hysterectomy and bowel repair.
With a wire hanger, for God’s sake. Tore up everything. Why the hell didn’t she go to Planned Parenthood? This is nuts!
He read further into the report. The mother had spoken to the patient’s best friend, who admitted to having witnessed cyber bullying of the patient without reporting it.
Fucking kids.
Jody was holding her own at the moment. She’d lost a lot of blood and they’d been pushing it and antibiotics from the moment she'd entered Ridgewood around noon.
Surgery, blood, fluids, and antibiotics would have to do the job of saving her life. It was all they had.
Jeez, sixteen years old.
He looked across the room at the mother sitting next to the bed. She looked exhausted; he’d heard the father was out of town. Harry had a pretty good idea of what that mom was going through. He’d seen a lot of mothers lose their children. Not for this, but what’s the difference? When you love someone and they’re taken away from you, does it really matter what caused it?
Damn right it does!
Kid didn’t have cancer, have some genetic dysfunction, wasn’t in an automobile accident. She didn’t have to go through all of this misery. She could have simply had a safe abortion.
And what the hell is going on with kids abusing each other on the internet? That’s pretty fucking sick.
He hadn’t heard Jody’s mother approach the nurses’ station. It caught him off guard when she spoke.
“Would you please keep an eye on Jody? I have to try to reach my husband again.” Her voice was barely audible.
“Of course,” Harry said. He smiled at the woman. “That’s what we do, Mrs. Simms.
Harry knew the mother was watching him as he walked to Jody’s bed. Apparently satisfied, she left the unit. He checked the telemetry —the girl’s heart beat was flying, even with additional oxygen, her breathing was rapid, and her temp was climbing dramatically. When he gently touched her belly, the flesh became a tight spasm.
“Mom!” she screamed.
Damn it! She’s gone sour in just five fucking minutes!
Harry called out to the other nurse, “Tara, get the attending ... now!”
Jody opened her eyes. “Help me. Please help me.” She reached out for Harry’s hand and clutched it tightly. She looked so young, so small, so sick.
Her B/P was crashing and her breathing was so rapid now she couldn’t speak anymore, even though she tried. Her mouth kept opening and closing but her voice was swallowed. Tara moved to the other side of the bed. “Jesus, Harry, she’s in shock.”
“Damn it, her heart’s stopped.” Harry said. “Start CPR while I get the defy going.”
Tara started pressing down rhythmically on Jody’s chest while Harry readied the paddles. “Clear!”
Tara held her hands up in the air.
The shock made Jody’s body arch, but it did nothing to start her heart beating again.
“Clear.” Harry called out again. Jody’s body arched again, but there was still no response.
The attending hurried in, called out, “Hit it again!”
The three of them stared at the telemetry after the jolt.
Nothing.
Harry knew the MD was going to call it.
‘Let’s try one more time,” Harry said.
“Okay. Go!”
“Clear,” Harry said, paddles placed and ready on her chest.
He held his breath, watched the flat line, hoping for a blip that would give him some hope.
But Jody was gone.
“Call it,” the attending said.
At that moment, the girl’s mother walked back into the ICU. She ran to the bed and started screaming, “No! No! No!” She grabbed her daughter’s limp arm. “Jody! No, please, no!”
“Time: 2:58 p.m.
Chapter 33
“We lost a sixteen-year-old girl a little while ago.”
Gina held the phone tight against her ear. “Oh, Harry, another death? What a horrible way for you to start the week.”
“Yeah, you can certainly say that.”
“What did she die of?”
“Tried to get rid of a three-month pregnancy with a coat hanger. Tore up her whole insides – ripped her cervix, uterus, and punctured her bowel. She might as well have swallowed cyanide. It would have killed her quicker ... and with a lot less pain.”
“I don’t understand. Why didn’t the poor kid go for a legal abortion?”
“Kids! Who knows what her thinking was, other than she was probably scared out of her mind.”
“I’m so sorry, Harry. That must have been really, really hard for you.”
“Listen, babe, I’m going to hang out with the mother for a while. She’s totally destroyed and the husband is out of town. We had to sedate the poor woman ... she’s in no condition to drive and she has a son at home that she’ll have to break the news to. I’ll grab a cab back home or something.”
“Give me a call when you’re ready and I’ll come pick you up.”
* * *
Taneka and Gina took the elevator down together. Gina told her about Harry’s patient.
“Seems as though we’re dealing
with a lot of that kind of death right now," Taneka said. "First Carrie, then Elyse, and now this young girl."
“I don’t know, Taneka, Harry’s patient was a whole different story. She’s a perfect example of what we try to prevent with our work. But septicemia seems like something I wouldn’t expect in controlled circumstances like a clinic.
“That’s true. I’ve worked in the department for three years and it’s never happened before.”
“No infections?”
“Oh, we have infections," Taneka said, “but they don’t come on like these. Usually, oral antibiotics take care of them real quick. But what we’ve seen with Carrie and Elyse is something else. Their infections seemed to take hold with break-neck speed; by the time we got to them they were in massive organ failure.”
“What do you think is causing it?”
“Well, if we used dirty instruments ... that would do the job.”
Gina ignored Taneka’s poor stab at humor. “But all of our instrument packs, everything, goes through the autoclave — it doesn’t seem right. If it’s the instruments, then someone has to be doing it deliberately.
“Who on earth would do that?” Taneka gave Gina a strange look. “I don’t know you very well, Gina, but your mind works in a very weird way.”
Gina laughed as they arrived on the ground floor. “You don’t know the half of it.”
* * *
Gina was late when she'd come in to work that morning; she had to park about six blocks away and run all the way to Ridgewood in order to clock in on time. She wouldn’t admit it to Harry, or anyone else, but since her accident, any heavy exertion at all left her feeling wasted. The run from her car to the hospital had practically done her in for the rest of the day.
But going home, she was grateful for the long walk. She walked with an easy pace instead of her usual frantic rush, and it gave her time to try to relax and not think about anything.
It looked like it was going to pour rain again. There were black, low-hanging clouds overhead and she could smell moisture in the air. She pulled her jacket tight around her. The minute she left the hospital, the wind picked up and now she was out-and-out cold.
There’d been no one around for the last three blocks except for a lone man walking in the same direction -- certainly not Dominick.
She’d know him anywhere.
Maybe Harry’s right: I’m over-thinking that whole business.
No, she didn’t believe that. She trusted her instincts; they’d saved her life too often to ignore.
She looked at the darkening sky again and picked up her pace.
Maybe it’s the time of year to park the little Fiat in the underground garage at the hospital. I hate getting soaking wet.
A sense of danger prickled the hair on her neck; she turned her head around -- the man who had been walking far behind was only a step away.
He reached out to grab her and she kicked out at him. But it was too late. He’d already snagged her arm, bent it behind her, and smashed her tight up against him, so close she could smell his rank body odor and beery breath. Before she could twist away, his other hand was on her throat, choking her. She struggled, but his fingers squeezed into her windpipe and pushed up at the same time. She was forced to stand on tip toes.
“What ... do ... you want?’ she croaked. “I’ll give you my wallet. Let me go.”
“I don’t want your fucking money.”
He was thin, but strong. She kept trying to pull away, but he kept shoving her toward a grungy pickup parked at the curb.
“Let me go!” She screamed every time she caught a breath.
He yanked at her arm until she thought it would break and clutched her neck even tighter until her world was spinning. He flung the truck door open.
“Get your ass in there.”
She tried to resist, pushed hard against him, but she was breathless and her arm was filled with shooting pain. He half-lifted her and flung her inside. There was a sudden flash of light before blackness closed in; she barely heard him speak.
“After today, you won’t be bothering my wife anymore, you bitch!”
* * *
Marvin drove to Amory’s block, circled the area twice. All seemed quiet. He glanced back into the crew cab but the nosey nurse wasn’t moving. Between choking her and roughhousing her into the truck, he was sure he’d done her in.
Jesus, now I gotta get rid of her?
All he could think about the past couple of days was taking out the damn nurse after Thelma told him about her and gave him a picture she'd taken unnoticed with her cell phone. He’d tracked her when she left work at Ridgewood to her apartment. This morning, he waited near her apartment and followed her when she left.
Everything was going his way, working out in his favor – the nurse had found a parking slot a good distance away from the Ridgewood where there was hardly any foot traffic. And then he’d found a slot for his truck close to that foreign little car of hers.
Ever hear of buying American?
It had been hard to wait for her, but he’d read the newspaper from front to back, taken a couple of walks, and grabbed some fast food to pass the time. But mostly he just sat in his truck and waited.
Now that he’d taken her, the rush of excitement and the alcohol high had faded away. He suddenly saw the problem: what the hell was he going to do with her body?
Shit!
He thought that if she wasn’t already dead, he might finish her off right here. It wouldn’t take much to choke her again. Then he could take her body to the dump.
Yeah, but what if someone sees me?
He looked at his watch – it was getting far too late for that anyway. By the time he got there, the dump would be closed for the day.
He considered hauling her to some isolated wooded area in Marin County and dumping her. Or since he didn’t know Marin too good, he could find a place to throw her in the bay.
Undecided as to what course to follow, he drove to Amory’s house, stopped in front, threw a blanket over the nurse, and went to the door and rang the bell.
Amory answered after a several long moments, stood in the doorway, and glared.
“What do you want, Karsh?” Amory looked Marvin up and down, then past him out to the truck. “Well?”
“I snagged the nurse.”
“What nurse?”
“The one Thelma works with ... the one who might be suspicious of what’s going on.”
Amory looked at Marvin with steely eyes. “Where is she?”
“Out in the cab of my truck. She’s out cold. I think she’s dead.”
Amory’s eyes widened. “So you brought her here? Here to my house?”
Marvin nodded.
“Get her out of here, you nitwit. I don’t want any part of this.”
“What am I gonna do with her?”
Amory leaned forward until their noses were almost touching.
“Didn’t you hear me, Marvin? I don’t want any part of this. Further, if I were you, I’d get rid of that nurse right now before she ends up putting you and your wife in jail. Now get out of here!”
He slammed the door in Marvin’s face.
Chapter 34
Marvin was confused as he turned his back on Amory’s closed door and shuffled out to the truck.
What’s up with him?
Isn’t he supposed to be the man in charge?
Isn’t it our mission to save the lives of the unborn?
Aren’t the murderers who commit the abortions and the whores who have them supposed to die?
He got into the truck, slammed the door, and turned to look under the blanket where the nurse was hidden. Even though it was almost dark, he could see that her face was pale and her lips slack. He tried to feel for a pulse the way Thelma had taught him, but her skin was cold and her hands were under her body. He couldn’t bring himself to see her face while he searched for a beat on her neck.
There’s nothing there.
He gave up, covered her
again and started the truck.
He could see Amory watching from his living room window. The man still had a frown on his face.
Big fuckin’ help you are.
Marvin decided Golden Gate Park would be the nearest safe place to dump the nurse. It was heavily wooded and most people stayed away from the area at night because of all the homeless who camped out there.
He looked down at the nurse as he started the truck. Was he sorry for what he’d done? No. He knew what was right. And he’d done the right thing.
A murderer is a murderer. This is justice.
He drove around the Richmond district until it was pitch dark, then entered Golden Gate Park at 19th Avenue. He cruised slowly through the park, looking for a place where he could pull his four-wheel drive off the paved road and into a sheltered spot. When he found a place, he backed into thick, tall bushes, killed the lights, got out, and left the door open. He was pissed at himself – no shovel, or any other tool to dig with.
Have to it with your bare hands, you knucklehead.
He reached into the crew cab, grabbed the woman under her arms, and yanked hard. She got caught up in the edge of the driver’s seat at first, but when he finally pulled her free, he was almost flattened as she came tumbling out of the truck.
He bent over her sprawled body for a moment to catch his breath. He was damn tired. Tired of everything.
Now that he wasn’t moving around, he heard noises in the underbrush. He couldn’t tell if it was animal or human, but it didn’t matter – he was spooked and didn’t want to get involved with either.
He dragged the woman to one of the massive bushes that sat among tall trees; he dropped down to his knees to move aside the loose brush. It didn’t take long before he reached the dirt underneath. It was hard to get any deeper than the loose stuff; after that it was hard pack. Everything he needed to help him dig was at the apartment house.
“This won’t work,” he muttered. “Can’t get through this shit.”
He pulled the nurse over to the spot he’d just cleared, turned her on her stomach, and started covering her up with the loose dirt, leaves, and pine needles he’d cleared away.
Bone of Contention: A Medical Thriller With Heart (The Gina Mazzio Series Book 4) Page 14
