by Chris Taylor
THE MAKER
Book Ten of the Munro Family Series
Chris Taylor
Be careful what you wish for…
Chanel Munro has landed her dream job as a junior resident doctor at the prestigious Sydney Harbour Hospital. Only two years out from medical school, she can’t believe she’s been chosen by the highly respected Doctor Leo Baker to be part of his elite team.
But an esteemed position on Doctor Baker’s team doesn’t come without sacrifice. It soon becomes clear her boss expects her to provide him with certain favors and he’s not talking about volunteering for the coffee run.
Scared, angry and confused, Chanel is at a loss what to do. She refuses to give in to blackmail, but if she takes her complaint to the medical board and they don’t believe her, her career will be in ruins. The years of study and sacrifice will be for nothing. Vowing to steer clear of him, she keeps a low profile and puts all of her energies into the job that she loves.
But patients are dying strange and unpredictable deaths under Doctor Baker’s care and she can’t help but wonder why. It’s ludicrous to suggest he’s at fault. Notwithstanding his personal failings, he’s an exceptional doctor. As the death toll continues to climb, Chanel takes her concerns to the police.
Detective Sergeant Bryce Sutcliffe of the City of Sydney Police Station is sceptical of Chanel’s claims. Despite the fact he’s drawn to her earthly beauty, he can’t help but wonder if there isn’t more behind her complaint. When the wife of a New South Wales senator dies under Doctor Baker’s care, Bryce is forced to pay attention.
Could the girl with the compelling eyes have been telling the truth? Could the Sydney Harbour Hospital’s most highly respected doctor be a murderer?
COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2015 by Chris Taylor
(All Rights Reserved)
Smashwords Edition
LCT Productions Pty Ltd
18364 Kamilaroi Highway, Narrabri NSW 2390
ISBN. 978-1-925119-21-3 (Ebook)
ISBN. 978-1-925119-22-0 (Print)
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
The Maker is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
This book is dedicated to all of the doctors and nurses who daily give their all to help ease the suffering of the sick and dying in our busy hospitals and as always, to my sexy, real life hero, my husband, Linden.
The Munro Family Series
(in order)
THE PROFILER
(Book One—Clayton and Ellie)
THE INVESTIGATOR
(Book Two—Riley and Kate)
THE PREDATOR
(Book Three—Brandon and Alex)
THE BETRAYAL
(Book Four—Declan and Chloe)
THE DECEPTION
(Book Five—Will and Savannah)
THE NEGOTIATOR
(Book Six—Andy and Cally)
THE CHRISTMAS VIGIL
(A Munro Family Series Novella)
THE RANSOM
(Book Seven—Lane and Zara)
THE DEFENDANT
(Book Eight—Chase and Josie)
THE SHOOTING
(Book Nine—Tom and Lily)
THE MAKER
(Book Ten—Bryce and Chanel)
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Read the back cover blurb of each of the Munro Family stories by visiting Chris Taylor’s website at: http://www.christaylorauthor.com.au/about/books
PROLOGUE
His measured footsteps made no sound on the shiny, linoleum-covered floor of the hushed hospital ward. He walked, unhurried, toward the room where she lay. Night had fallen a few hours earlier and the only sounds came from the occasional cough or groan from a patient and the muted murmur of voices from the skeleton nursing staff rostered on the evening shift. He’d passed right by them on his way to the ward. They stood in a huddle at the nurses’ station, engrossed in catching up on the latest gossip, the latest scandal on TV—anything but the patients in their care.
It wasn’t a reflection of their nursing ability. They were among some of the hospital’s best. But by that time of the evening, most patients had been made comfortable for the night and were asleep, or close to it. It was no accident that he’d chosen this time to be there.
He rounded the corner. Ever careful, he snuck a look over his shoulder, just to be certain. The way was clear. He drew in a deep breath and did his best to steady the persistent thump of his heart. The anticipation of what was to come sent a fresh wave of excitement thudding through his veins and despite his attempt to calm his thoughts, his pulse leaped forward again.
He’d been given a sign from God and the sign was crystal clear. There was no doubt in his mind what needed to be done and he was pleased to have been trusted with the task. He’d been handpicked by God to carry out His wishes and the thought of ending the dying woman’s suffering filled him with immeasurable joy.
The woman in question shuddered and moaned in the bed, even in her sleep. He’d done all he could to ease her pain, but short of increasing her dosage of morphine until she was unconscious, there was nothing more he could do. That was, until God had given him the sign. That had changed everything. Soon, very soon, Frances Daniels would find everlasting peace.
At sixty-eight, Frances was dying from terminal cancer. It had started in her lungs and had quickly spread to several parts of her body. In the beginning, they’d tried a combination of chemo and radiotherapy, but nothing seemed to work. No one wanted to admit defeat, but the medical team were fast losing hope.
Now he stared down at the woman, thin and pale against the twisted cotton sheets. She stirred restlessly, almost as if she could sense him and his purpose for being there. Renewed anger surged through him at the pain God had inflicted upon her. It wasn’t right that He gave her this awful cross to bear. It wasn’t right that He made her suffer.
All of a sudden, it wasn’t Frances, but his mother lying there. Muttering and moaning in her sleep with a pain that even the strongest of sedatives couldn’t touch. And he, no more than a child, helpless and weighed down by sadness, stood by and watched her die. Slowly, painfully, each breath a ragged whisper, she died with an anguish no child should have witnessed. The familiar feelings of helplessness and loss washed over him and he closed his eyes against the pain.
“No!” he whispered, his voice harsh in the silence of the room. “I’m no longer that helpless child. I won’t stand by again. God has given me His orders. It’s up to me to end this woman’s pain.”
He stepped closer to the bed and reached into his pocket, retrieving the vial he’d brought with him. His movements were tender when he gently shook Frances awake. She opened her eyes with a start and blinked, unsure for a moment where she was and then she smiled.
“Oh, it’s you. I thought you would have left long ago. You work too hard.” She smiled through the pain that had been with her for far too long and his lips turned up in response. He let the joy of what was to come flood through him once again. Soon, she’d feel so much better. Soon, there’d be no pain.
“Frances,
God has sent me to do his bidding. I’m here to set you free.” He brought the vial closer and held it beneath her nose.
She frowned in confusion and turned her head away. He followed the movement, keeping his hand firmly in place. She breathed and coughed and breathed again and he made sure she inhaled what he held. When he was certain it was enough, he carefully sealed the vial and slipped it back into his pocket.
“Doctor—”
“Shh, Frances. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be perfect. You’ll see.” He smiled down at her again and whispered, “It’s time to meet your Maker.”
CHAPTER ONE
Chanel Munro took a moment to surreptitiously swipe her sweat-dampened palms down the sides of her white lab coat. The impressive sixteen-storey, sandstone building that housed the patients of the Sydney Harbour Hospital towered before her. Butterflies churned in her stomach and she breathed deeply, hoping to calm her nerves. It was her first day as a junior medical resident under the esteemed Doctor Leo Baker. She’d die if he were to guess how anxious she was.
It was ridiculous, really. It wasn’t like she was a fresh-faced intern straight out of medical school, who’d barely seen the inside of a hospital. She’d worked in the largest hospital in Brisbane for more than two years. The place had become her second home and she’d loved every minute of it.
But while she loved Brisbane and its laid-back lifestyle, she was more than three hours’ drive away from her parents and only sister and at least a day’s drive away from her brothers. After supporting her oldest brother through a recent health crisis, she’d realized how important it was to be close to her family and surrounded by their love.
Her numerous nieces and nephews were getting older and she’d missed many of their milestones. Her birthday had come and gone a month earlier and the reality she was only three years shy of thirty had come as a bit of a surprise.
Where had the time gone? It seemed like only yesterday that she’d graduated high school and stood outside the hallowed walls of the medical school at Brisbane University, her stomach taut with nerves. And here she was in Sydney, outside the city’s most prestigious hospital, with stomach-churning fear, excitement and anticipation—just as strong and familiar as all those years ago.
She’d applied for the residency position on Doctor Baker’s medical team without any real hope of success and was stunned when an email came through congratulating her on her appointment. While she’d graduated top of her class in Brisbane, it was rumored more than a thousand young doctors had competed for the ten, much-coveted places on Doctor Baker’s team.
The fact that she now lived within a ten-mile radius of three of her older brothers was almost as important as the realization she was finally living her dream. Having scoured the classified advertisements online and in the Sydney newspapers for weeks prior to her move, she’d been fortunate to find a cosy two-bedroom apartment in North Sydney, only minutes from the train station. While the rent was pretty steep, the proximity to her work in the city and the fantastic harbor views more than compensated. Besides, she was optimistic she’d be able to find a roommate to help offset the costs.
She’d already prepared an advertisement to pin on the staff noticeboard at the hospital as soon as she could. But first, she had to find the courage to walk inside.
With another deep breath, she adjusted her backpack on her shoulder and made her way down the cobblestoned path that led to the wide front doors. A little ways past the entryway, stood an information desk manned by a white-haired volunteer. Chanel smiled at the woman behind the counter.
“Hello, I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find Doctor Leo Baker?”
“Good morning, and welcome to the Sydney Harbour Hospital. I take it you’re one of our lovely Doctor Baker’s fresh recruits?” The woman’s twinkling eyes almost disappeared into the folds of soft skin around her eyes.
Chanel nodded. “Yes. I’m Chanel Munro. This is my first day.”
“Pleased to meet you, Chanel. I’m Marjorie Campbell. You can find me most mornings right here at the information desk. I share it with Dottie Featherdale. Between the two of us, there’s nothing we don’t know about this place.” She winked and Chanel couldn’t help but chuckle.
“That’s good to know, Marjorie. I’m from the country. I’ve only visited Sydney on the odd occasion. It’s a little overwhelming to a newcomer.”
“I could tell you were a country girl the moment I spotted you standing outside the door. There’s something so fresh and wholesome about you.”
Chanel blushed. “Actually, I was born and bred in the country, but I’ve been living in Brisbane the last few years. I attended university there, and afterwards, I worked in the Brisbane Hospital.”
“Oh, I meant no offense. I was born in the country, too. My family came from the north coast, up near Byron Bay. I moved to Sydney when I married my Ron.” She sighed softly. “That was nearly fifty years ago.”
Chanel smiled. “You must have been a child bride.”
Marjorie blushed with pleasure, but waved her compliment away. “Get away with you now.”
Chanel glanced at her watch and noted the time. She bit her lip. It wouldn’t do to be late on her first day. Marjorie noticed her frown.
“I’m sorry, honey. I’ve been rambling on about nothing and you need to find Doctor Baker. Please excuse an old lady her memories. Now, if you go to the end of this corridor, you’ll find a bank of elevators. Take one to Level Three. You’ll find his rooms on the left, right around the corner. He’s one of our finest doctors,” she added, puffing up with pride. “You’ll learn much from him.”
“Yes, so I’ve heard. I can’t wait to begin.”
“He’s also easy on the eye,” she added and gave Chanel a wink. “It always makes for a more interesting day when there’s a little eye candy around.”
Heat rushed into Chanel’s cheeks, but she giggled at the old lady’s insights. From what Chanel knew of Doctor Baker, he was young enough to be Marjorie’s son. The fact that he was old enough to be Chanel’s father also didn’t seem to matter to the woman. Pushing aside that thought, Chanel smiled again.
“It was lovely to meet you, Marjorie, and thank you for making me feel so welcome. I’m going to love working here. I just know it.”
The tight white curls bobbed around the older woman’s head and her face filled with good cheer.
“My pleasure, Chanel Munro. You have a great day.”
* * *
Chanel hefted her backpack over her shoulder and stepped out of the elevator. Rounding the corner, she found Doctor Baker’s rooms as Marjorie had described. His name was engraved on a brass nameplate affixed to the outside of the closed door. She swallowed a fresh wave of nerves and knocked.
“Come in.”
Chanel’s breath caught at the sharp command. It had come from a woman. She scrambled to adjust her thinking and her approach. She’d been worried about offending the doctor, but offending his secretary was probably just as bad. She opened the door and offered a hesitant smile to the woman who gave her a narrow-eyed stare from behind the counter.
The woman’s skin was flawless, though she had to be in her fifties. She wore a designer suit and her hair was thick and luxurious. It hung over her shoulder in a stylish ponytail and was made up of so many shades of blond, it was obvious she employed an expert colorist. Despite the woman’s unfriendly demeanor, Chanel felt a burst of admiration.
“Hi, I’m—”
“Chanel Munro. You’re late.”
Chanel nodded and slid her backpack off her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was—”
“Doctor Baker has a reputation for excellence. He is held in the highest esteem in medical circles right around Australia. He’s also a very busy man. He doesn’t tolerate excuses, Doctor Munro, no matter what the circumstance. Let this be your one and only warning. Don’t be late again.”
“No, of course not. I promise I—”
“Take a seat. Everyone else
is here. Doctor Baker will be out shortly.”
Chanel gathered her backpack and turned away. She glanced at the other people who almost filled the modest waiting room. Apart from a man reading a newspaper who looked like he was in his forties and a woman graying at the temples, engrossed in texting on her phone, they were young, like she was.
Chanel nodded polite acknowledgements to the other members of Doctor Baker’s team and took the only remaining chair. She smiled at the girl seated on her right.
“Hi, I’m Chanel Munro,” she said and offered the girl her hand.
“Tanya Singh,” the girl responded in a voice without a trace of an accent, despite the fact her glossy black hair and midnight eyes appeared to indicate she was of East Indian heritage.
“Nice to meet you, Tanya. Are you part of Doctor Baker’s new team of residents?”
“Yes, we all are.” Tanya lowered her voice to a whisper. “Don’t worry. I only got here a minute or so before you. I think she only growled at you because you’re so young and beautiful. You probably remind the old hag of what she used to look like.”
Chanel swallowed a gasp of surprise, but Tanya only giggled behind her hand.
Chanel’s lips twitched upward in response. “Shh,” she admonished, stifling a grin. “She’ll hear you.”
