“Look, Dex, you can’t panic every time you can’t find me for ten minutes. We’ve both got to get over this and go on with our lives. I’ve got a business to run, and I’m going to be in and out of the office every day. Don’t worry about me.”
“Okay, you are obviously not going to rest, so let’s get dressed up, go to dinner, and celebrate tonight.”
“Do you think we should? Morgan warned us about being in public places before they catch the guy that kidnapped me.”
“You’re the one who said we couldn’t let this nut control our lives.”
“If we’re going, we should go early and try to miss the crowds. Pick me up at five-thirty.”
Dressing up was always a simple process for Marie. She had the type of body that made off-the-rack dresses look like designer originals. When Dex arrived at her apartment, she was wearing a pale-blue silk dress. It was beautiful on her, but it also revealed that she had suffered some weight loss on her recent hamburger diet. The slacks she was wearing the day before covered her injured ankle, but tonight the wound was clearly evident, even though her hose softened the appearance. Dex had made reservations at Harbor Lights, a restaurant overlooking the river in the downtown area. It arguably served River City’s finest French cuisine and had elegant European décor and a romantic atmosphere. They had to park several blocks away and walk to the restaurant because the day-trip tourists were still clogging the streets and had taken all the nearby parking spaces.
It was a beautiful fall afternoon, and Marie and Dex walked hand in hand, happy to be together again after her terrible ordeal. At the restaurant, they sat on the deck overhanging the river and lingered over the excellent food and wine. They enjoyed the setting sun and even danced for a while on the small floor in the back of the restaurant.
The rather pricey, upscale restaurant was patronized by an older clientele. The big band music carefully selected to appeal to this group actually created a romantic ambiance. They were probably the youngest couple in the restaurant, but this was a special night. Dex and Marie weren’t interested in anyone but each other.
When they left the restaurant, Dex noticed the slight chill in the air that promised winter was not far away. They held hands and strolled along the dark street toward their car. Even on this backstreet, three blocks from the restaurant, parked cars had been jammed bumper to bumper on both sides of the street when they arrived. But now that most of the tourists had left for the night, there were only a few cars parked along the street.
They were so consumed by each other that they failed to notice the car parked directly behind theirs had its motor idling. Just as they walked abreast of the car, a man with a bandana tied over his face leaned out the window and pointed a pistol at Dex. The shot shattered the stillness of the evening and was so close it was deafening. The car sped away before Marie realized what had happened; then Dex collapsed face-first onto the sidewalk.
Marie screamed as she dropped to her knees beside him. She knew he had to have been hit, but she saw no blood until she rolled him over on his back. The blood pumping from his chest soaked his shirt and jacket.
Marie’s nursing instinct took over. She spread his jacket apart and ripped open his shirt. The bullet had entered the right side of his chest a few centimeters below the nipple. She immediately placed her thumb over the entrance hole and pressed as hard as she could to stem the blood flow.
People attracted by the gunshot were running from several directions to where Marie was working feverishly on Dex. She yelled for someone to call 9-1-1. Several cars stopped, and a crowd began to build as Marie continued to work on him. The emotion had not yet seized her, and she was reacting as she had when she had worked in the emergency room.
Dex had lost consciousness. She checked his heart rate. The rate was steady but weak. His breathing was labored, and she could tell from the entry site and the sucking sound that his lung had been punctured. She covered his mouth with hers and continued to blow her breath into him in an attempt to supplement his airflow while continuing to pressure the entry wound.
Fortunately the downtown fire station and rescue unit was only four blocks away. The EMTs got there quickly and took over for Marie. She climbed into the back of the ambulance where the EMT personnel were working on Dex, and they left the scene before the police arrived.
A trauma doctor met the ambulance at the emergency room entrance, and Dex was rushed directly into the hospital. Marie was stopped at the door to the treatment area and told she would have to stay in the ER waiting area.
The cool, professional efficiency with which she had attended to Dex now gave way to raw emotion. Unfortunately she knew how seriously he was injured and that he might not make it. She also realized she must be in shock because so far she hadn’t shed a tear. She was covered with his blood and had to explain to two different nurses who passed through the waiting room that it wasn’t her blood.
When the police arrived, a nurse pointed out Marie, who was sitting by herself in a corner of the waiting room. He wrote the personal information that Marie furnished in his notes and then asked, “Ms. Murphy, can you tell us what happened and who shot your friend?”
“We were walking toward our parked car, and without any warning, a man leaned out of the window of the car parked behind us and shot Dex. He had a red bandana over his face, and he didn’t say a word. He sped away, and I immediately started working on Dex.”
“Can you give me a description of the man and his car?”
“No, I don’t even know the color of the car, but it was a dark color and it was parked directly behind us. The only thing I remember is the red bandana. This wasn’t a random shooting; this man was waiting for us.”
“I agree. I know who you are and what happened before. Who’s handling the case in the county?”
“Detective Lester Morgan. Someone should get in touch with him right away.”
“I’ll take care of that. I will need to talk with you again, but right now I need to get back to the scene and see what I can find.”
Marie had called Gigi when she got to the emergency room, and after finishing with the policeman, she turned and saw her walking toward her. The two women held each other and waited for some word from the trauma team. Finally the doctor who had met the ambulance came out to talk to them.
“Mr. Martin has lost a lot of blood, and we’ve already given him two replacement units. He has a collapsed lung and has been taken upstairs for surgery. It will probably be a while before they can give you more information. You should wait in the surgical waiting room.”
Marie said, “Thank you, Doctor. We appreciate the update. Where’s the waiting room?”
“It’s on the fourth floor. Ms. Murphy, I recognized you from all the recent television reports. The EMTs told me what you did at the scene, and in my opinion, you saved his life by reacting so quickly. If you hadn’t been there, he probably wouldn’t have even made it to the hospital.”
After the doctor walked away, Marie said, “Gigi, the good news is that they wouldn’t even attempt surgery unless they thought he was strong enough to withstand it. They can take care of the collapsed lung, but they won’t know what other injuries he has until they start the surgery.”
It was almost three hours before the surgeon finally walked into the waiting room. Marie held her breath as she saw him approaching.
“Hello, Ms. Murphy, they told me who you are and about your nursing background, so I’ll try to explain to you where we are in dealing with his trauma. He made it through surgery and I believe he will pull through, but he has some substantial problems. The bullet entered the upper right chest wall, passed through, and collapsed his right lung and nicked the subclavin artery before lodging against the scapula. I removed the bullet and put in a chest tube so we could use negative pressure to inflate his lung. We’ve repaired the damage as well as we could, but he
’s not out of the woods yet. He’ll be in recovery for an hour or so and then taken to the surgical ICU unit. The next twenty-four hours will be critical. If we can get through that period and avoid a serious infection, I believe he will recover.”
“Doctor, when we will be able to see him in the ICU?”
“You are not going to be able to see him tonight, and I suggest you get some sleep and be back here early in the morning.”
Gigi didn’t fully understand what the doctor had said about Dex’s condition, so Marie explained it to her as well as she could. When they began to relax for the first time in hours, the conversation slowed and Marie realized just how tired she was.
Neither Marie nor Gigi wanted to leave the hospital. Although visiting hours had been over for hours, she bluffed her way up to the ICU desk. The duty nurse would have been frightened by her blood-soaked clothes if she had not recognized her. Dex and Marie’s continuing tragedies had been reported so much that the news of the new event had quickly spread throughout the hospital.
Marie started to introduce herself, but the nurse said, “I know who you are, Ms. Murphy. We have already been notified to expect him to be transferred here from surgery.”
“The surgeon just told us that he is in recovery now, but we won’t be able to see him until morning. His grandmother is here with me, and she won’t leave until she’s sure we will be notified if there’s any change. Will you take my number and give me a call if anything happens?”
“You probably know I’m not supposed to do that, but since you’re a nurse, and with all you been through lately, I’ll give you a call if anything changes.” She wrote down Marie’s number and told her to try to get some sleep.
Marie finally convinced Gigi there was nothing either of them could do, and they walked out to the car in the early morning darkness. Gigi drove Marie to her apartment, and they agreed to meet later that morning at the hospital.
Marie wasn’t sure she could sleep, but she got out of her blood-soaked clothes and took a shower. It was after 3:00 a.m. She set her alarm for six-thirty and stretched out on the bed. Her mind was in overdrive even though her body was exhausted. She replayed the tumultuous evening in her head before gradually drifting off to a short, restless sleep.
Chapter 35
Marie was already dressed before her alarm sounded at six-thirty the next morning. She was at the hospital thirty minutes later, and Gigi pulled into the parking lot right behind her.
There was a different nurse at the ICU desk, but she recognized Marie.
“Good morning, Ms. Murphy. He was moved here from surgery at about four o’clock this morning. He is still heavily sedated, but he seems to be resting comfortably. Visiting hours start at eight, and family members can go in for ten minutes every two hours.”
When she saw Marie’s disappointed expression, she grinned and said, “You’re his sister, aren’t you?” She winked and said, “If you would really like to see him, I’ll take you in now but you can only stay a couple of minutes.”
Dex looked about like what she had expected. He was on oxygen, had an IV in one arm and a blood pressure cuff on the other, and was pale as a ghost. The sheet only came up to his waist, and his torso was wrapped like a mummy.
The ICU nurse was standing beside her when Marie said the first thing that came to her mind. “After surviving refrigerator-sized behemoths regularly pounding him into the turf for years, a small bullet has rendered him completely helpless.”
The nurse said, “I went to high school with Dex. It’s hard for me to see him like this, so I can appreciate what you’re going through.”
During her years in nursing, Marie had become callous to a lot of suffering, but this was Dex and she suffered with him. He briefly opened his eyes when she held his hand, and she thought he smiled slightly before drifting off again.
Gigi was allowed in the room for ten minutes at eight o’clock, but she said he never woke up while she was with him. Marie reassured her that it was the medication and not the injury that was keeping him asleep.
They both went in at ten o’clock, and there was no change in Dex’s condition. Marie sneaked a look at the chart hanging on the foot of his bed, but there was nothing there that she didn’t already know about his condition.
The doctor came in about noon, and after examining him, said, “So far so good. His breathing is very much improved, and there’s no sign yet of any infection. He should be coming out from under the heaviest anesthesia pretty soon, but we will keep him somewhat sedated for another twenty-four hours.”
The next time Marie was allowed in his room, Dex’s eyes were open, and he reached for her hand as she stood beside his bed. He had a tube down his throat so he couldn’t talk but he mouthed, “Thank God, you’re okay. I love you.”
“And I love you, Dex.”
He then mouthed, “What happened?”
Marie could tell that he was alert enough to communicate even if he couldn’t talk. He apparently didn’t remember anything about being shot. They had always been honest with each other, so she told him what had happened.
“We were walking from the restaurant to the car, and someone leaned out of a parked car and shot you at close range.”
He pointed to his chest and mouthed, “What’s wrong?”
“The bullet punctured your lung and hit an artery. They operated on you last night to repair the damage and remove the bullet. The doctor says he thinks you’re going to be okay.”
He mouthed, “Stay with me.”
“Dex, you’re in ICU and they will only let Gigi and me come in for ten minutes every two hours. You need to rest. You won’t have to stay in here too long.”
That afternoon Detective Morgan showed up at the hospital to talk to Marie. It wasn’t his case since it happened in the city, but he still had a murder and abduction to close, and it appeared the same perpetrator was involved.
“Detective, all I can tell you is the same thing I told the city police last night. We were walking to our car when this guy with a bandana over his face leaned out of a parked car and shot him.”
“Since his face was covered, I assume you can’t identify him, but can you identify the car?”
“No, I don’t even know what color it was. It all happened so fast, and Dex was on the sidewalk bleeding. All I concentrated on then was trying to keep him alive.”
“What’s the doctor told you?”
“He had surgery last night and is still out of it, but the doctor told us this morning that he thought he was going to be okay unless he develops an infection.”
“I’ll leave you alone for now, but as soon as he’s released, all three of us need to sit down and talk. We need to go over everything again because there’s got to be something we’re missing. This guy can’t be smart enough to do all these things without leaving a clue.”
Each time Marie went in to see Dex, he struggled to talk. He was agitated by his inability to do so, and she tried to soothe him. “Dex, just let me talk. Maybe by tomorrow they will be able to remove the tube and then you can tell me whatever it is you’re trying to say.”
When Marie left for the night at eight o’clock, Dex was only running a low-grade fever. She told Gigi this was the best news they could hope for because it indicated that he had not developed a serious infection. She had not told her how common serious infections were with puncture wounds, particularly gunshots.
Marie had to run by her office the next morning before she got to the hospital. When she arrived, the doctor had already been in and removed the tube from Dex’s throat. He could talk, but his throat was sore and talking irritated it. Marie assured him that this was normal and it would improve rapidly.
The first thing he said was, “Marie, thank God it was me and not you that got hit.”
She leaned over the bed, kissed him, and said, “I wa
s so scared for you that I thought I’d die.”
“The doctor told me that you saved my life. How can I ever repay you for that?”
“By getting well and loving me.”
“The doctor said that if I continue doing well, they will move me out of ICU tomorrow. Gigi said she is going to stay at the hospital all day today, so you can go to your office and just come back after you close tonight.”
Marie had been avoiding the media, but when she got back to her office they were camped outside. She knew she would eventually have to make a statement, so she decided to do it now. There was a television crew and two newspaper reporters she recognized.
“What can you tell us about Dex’s condition?”
“He had surgery last night and is in ICU. The doctor thinks he will make a full recovery.”
“Do you know who shot him?”
“No, if I could identify him, he would already be in jail.”
She briefly told the reporters what had happened and then said, “The reason I couldn’t identify him was because his face was covered with a bandana. The street where it happened was not well lit, and I was frankly more concerned with Dex’s injuries than identifying his attacker. I have no idea what the motive might be, but it must in some way be related to everything else that’s happened to us lately.”
“The doctor has said that your fast action saved Dex’s life. What did you do?”
“Look, don’t portray me as a hero in your stories. I’m just a nurse who happens to be in love with a man who desperately needed my help. I would have done the same thing for a stranger, but I admit that I wouldn’t have been nearly as terrified.”
That quote introduced the story on the television news that evening, and it also appeared in print on the sports pages of newspapers all over the South.
Appalachian Intrigue Page 18
