by Radclyffe
Jay stopped pumping the bag. “Spontaneous respirations.”
“Let’s up the volume.” Beau switched him to a rebreathing mask and watched his oxygen sats. Greenly’s rhythm stabilized and his O2 sats held in the midnineties. “I’ll call us in.”
“Nice save.”
“Got a ways to go,” Beau said but her eyes gleamed with triumph. “But yeah. Thanks for the assist.”
“No problem.” Jay’s chest ached and her head swam from the adrenaline rush. She was out of practice. She really looked at Greenly for the first time, unconscious, so…mortal. That had been her. She shivered again. Maybe life was all about the luck of the draw.
Beau updated the ER by phone, and five minutes later, they pulled into the emergency zone at University Hospital and jerked to a stop. The doors swung open and Bobby reached in and Beau released the brakes on the gurney. They slid the gurney out, trundled off at top speed toward the entrance, and were met at the big sliding doors by a man and woman in ER scrubs.
Jay slowly climbed out, her legs and back stiff from tension and the unfamiliar position in the back of the rig. She hesitated in the parking lot, unsure of her next move. She had no role to play inside the hospital for the first time in a decade. She felt more than displaced. She felt lost.
Olivia’s SUV pulled up beside her, and Olivia got out. The world righted itself and the disabling disorientation dissolved. She did have a place, although right now, she didn’t have a role to play inside, and that was okay. She had other things that mattered.
Olivia hurried over. “How is he?”
“They got a rhythm and spontaneous respirations back.”
“Oh, that’s great.” Olivia scanned Jay with that intense look that said she was really seeing her, searching past the surface. “You okay?”
“Sure,” Jay said automatically.
“Good. I should get inside.” Olivia glanced at her vehicle, shrugged. “I guess if they tow it, they tow it.”
“They won’t bother it for a while.”
“Thanks for riding in with him,” Olivia said.
Jay slid an arm under Olivia’s elbow. “I’m staying till we see how he does.”
Olivia smiled. “Thanks. You know your way around better than me.”
Jay led the way inside, aware Olivia hadn’t just meant geographically. It did help to be on a first-name basis with the first responders when it came to getting regular updates on patients. She led Olivia along the familiar path to ER admitting, and the few staff around in the wee hours barely gave them a glance. Trauma admitting was just down the hall in the opposite direction, and she briefly wondered who was on duty. She waved to the charge nurse behind the desk in the ER. “Hey, Claudia. We’re with the guy the paramedics just brought in. I guess you know who he is.”
The brunette smiled distractedly. “Should I?”
“Uh, yeah, maybe,” Jay said, lowering her voice. “He’s the chief medical examiner.”
“Uh-oh. Okay. I’ll put a lock on his chart. Thanks, Flash.”
“No problem. Can we check on him?”
“Yeah, sure,” Claudia said, already turning back to the computer. “I think they’re down in nine. Go ahead.”
“Thanks.”
Olivia gave her a look. “Flash?”
Jay colored. “Old nickname.”
“It helps to know the important people,” Olivia murmured.
Jay chuckled briefly. “In another six months, they won’t remember me.”
“I bet you’re wrong. Flash.”
The warmth in her tone was like a caress, and Jay luxuriated in the near touch until the sounds of the resuscitation caught her focus. The cubicle curtain was closed, but the familiar verbal exchanges of the code team projected into the hallway. Beau giving a report of the vitals, a doctor ordering meds to be given, a nurse updating the staff in the intensive care unit about the imminent transfer. They’d only be in the way inside, and as much as a part of her clamored to be behind that curtain, in the midst of the action, she accepted she didn’t belong there, even as a concerned staffer.
“We probably won’t know anything for a few minutes,” Jay murmured, leaning against the wall opposite the cubicle. “I’m still trying to get my head around this.”
“He seemed fine when we were talking to him.” Olivia’s expression grew pensive. “I had no idea he was ill, only maybe I haven’t been paying attention. We aren’t exactly close.”
“No fault there,” Jay said. “He’s the right age for a coronary event. Maybe he’s got a preexisting condition. And even if he does have a history, no reason you should know about it.”
“Thanks for making me feel a little less responsible.” Olivia grimaced. “He is my chief, though, and I never made much effort to get to know him very well.” She rubbed her eyes. “Someone should call his family. I’ve never met his wife either.”
Jay resisted the urge to rub the tension from Olivia’s shoulders. All she could do was stand watch with her. “Why don’t we wait until they get him stabilized. The ER doc can make the call to family then and give them his status.”
“Yes, of course. You’re right. I’m out of practice with this sort of thing.” Olivia stepped against the wall to make room for a technician pushing a portable ventilator toward the curtain. “I speak with families all the time, but the circumstances are…well, as you know…”
“Yeah, I do.” Jay shrugged. “Looked like you were on the ball back there on the street.”
“Well, you never forget, do you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Olivia studied her. “Is it hard for you? Being out here instead of in there?”
The question was almost a relief. Jay could say the words out loud to someone who would believe her. Ali and Vic would probably always be a little worried she couldn’t adjust, couldn’t give up the excitement and the clinical highs they lived for. Olivia took her at face value—no ghosts of her past getting between them. Not even her own. “Not as hard as I thought it would be. Not as hard as it would’ve been even a few weeks ago. I have a different place now. Different job to do.”
“I’m glad it’s getting easier. I know how hard it must’ve been. I’m very impressed with you.”
Jay shook her head. “Believe me, I’m not impressive. I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself and being pissed off at fate, and generally whining. Nothing to be impressed about.”
Olivia shrugged. “Anyone would’ve done the same, and for a lot longer. You’ve made an incredible recovery, and if I haven’t said this before, I should have. I’m glad we got you as a fellow. You have a knack for the fieldwork and you know how to handle an autopsy as well as some junior attendings.”
Jay sucked in a breath. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear that. Not just that Olivia was pleased with her, but that the assistant chief medical examiner thought she was doing a good job. Thought she would be an asset. “I hate doing anything I can’t do well. I just don’t see the point in it. So you’ll let me know if I screw up, right?”
“You can ask me that at this point?”
Olivia’s amused smile was almost as good as a kiss. Almost. Jay very much wanted another kiss. Time to stop pretending she didn’t. “Okay, point taken. And thanks for the positive reinforcement.”
“Anytime.”
“Listen—”
Beau pulled the curtain aside and stepped out, closing it behind her. “Hey.”
“How is he?” Olivia asked.
“Stable. He’s flipped his T-waves, so it’s definitely an MI. They’re calling in the cardiologists to take him straight up to cath and possibly stent him.”
“Long night,” Jay murmured.
“They’re pretty fast,” Beau said. “You’ve heard of the golden hour rule.”
Jay, like every other first responder, knew the value of speed. Statistics showed if the heart could be reperfused within an hour, the heart muscle suffered much less damage and the chance of recovery was much
higher.
“Yeah, I know it.”
“Right.” Beau blushed. “Sorry. Course you would know that.”
Jay waved off the reminder she was no longer viewed the way she had been as a surgeon, even by those who knew her. “Well, you busted your asses to get him in here as quickly as we could. You did good work.”
“We all did. We’re wrapping up here,” Beau said. “You heading back down to the other scene?”
Jay looked to Olivia. “What’s the plan?”
“I’ll call Archie, but as long as there are no unexpected developments, I’ll stay here.”
Beau glanced back toward the closed curtain. “If you have a chance, can you call tomorrow and let me know how he does? That’s one of the hardest parts of our job, not knowing sometimes if we made it in time or not.”
“Sure,” Jay said.
Bobby joined Beau and they headed off together. Jay glanced at Olivia. “Getting Greenly squared away is probably going to take the rest of the night, you know.”
“Yes.” Olivia sighed. “I’ll have to make a few calls to the backup staff to cover the new cases. I ought to be able to take over in the morning.”
“You’ll be wiped out by morning.”
“It’s only a few more hours. I’ll be fine, but you should go.”
“Uh-huh,” Jay said. “Coffee, something to eat?”
Olivia smiled in defeat. “Yes to both. Something sinful if you can find it. I don’t even care if it comes in a cellophane package.”
“Hey, this used to be my turf, remember? I know where all the best secret stashes are.” Jay pointed down the hall. “You can call from the family lounge down there. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll let the nurses know we’re waiting for an update too. They’ll keep us informed.”
Olivia squeezed Jay’s forearm. “I’m glad you’re staying.”
Jay held still to keep Olivia’s hand on her arm a few seconds longer. “So am I.”
Chapter Twenty
“How did those Spics end up selling their junk in our territory?” a man with a heavy Greek accent barked.
“Ain’t no way of knowing that, Toto. We can’t watch every carload of greasers cruising north of Bainbridge.” The second man’s whiny voice came over the wire high and snuffling, like his nose was stuffed with cotton.
“That’s what we paying you to do.”
“Maybe it ain’t the Spics.”
“Who else, the Russians? You know the boss says they’re allies now.”
The other man snorted. “Yeah, till they ain’t no more. Then we’ll be back to cutting their supply lines again.”
“Listen, you little weasel. This is the second time thirteen has dumped in our backyard, and now we’ve got cops crawling all over the place. They’ll be shaking down our dealers and going after our distributors now.”
“We don’t know who it is,” the nasal underling whined.
“Then find out. I don’t want to have to tell the big boss we were standing around holding our dicks while they were givin’ it to us up the butt.”
“We’ll find him. Everybody’s out on the streets looking.”
“You better do more than look. Otherwise, I’m sending you down to the Tower and you can tell the man himself why we can’t keep our borders clean.”
“Yeah yeah, okay okay…”
The connection broke and Carmody sat back, satisfaction coursing through her like a strong shot of good whiskey. Finally, something they could work with. The pressure was on, and the street-level muscle never looked at the big picture. Cracks were starting to form and would get wider as the inevitable repercussions rained down from the top. The little guys would be looking to take care of their own asses first, and the best way to do that was to cut a deal. Someone would talk. She copied the file, noted date and time, triangulated the towers and the cell numbers associated with it, and called Frye.
*
Dell got to the six a.m. meeting at Sloan’s a couple minutes ahead of time, still drinking her second cup of coffee of the hour on the way up in the elevator. Sloan, Jason, and Watts were already in the conference room. She dropped into a chair next to them with a groan.
“Long night, huh, boyo?” Watts said.
Watts looked better than he had any right to look if he’d been up as many hours as she had, and she figured he probably had. After they’d wrapped up witness interviews at the Galaxy, Watts had volunteered to follow up on the tip from the ME about their Jane Doe with the homicide guys, and missing persons too. He’d seemed almost eager to roust a few fellow detectives in the middle of the night.
“Did you get anything?” Dell asked.
Watts gave a slow grin, looking like he was enjoying himself. Hell, he probably was. For all his reputation of being a laid-back cop, he was like a pit bull on the hunt. He never gave up.
“Homicide turfed a female OD a while back that sounded an awful lot like the trio tonight—and guess who ended up with the case?”
He looked around at the blank faces and his grin widened. He pointed a finger at Dell. “Your squeeze.”
“Sandy?” Dell’s eyes widened. “Fuck. She told me she was working a case that might have something to do with a bad package or two, but I didn’t have any reason to put it together with what we heard on the wire.” She shook her head. “Man, I think I dropped the ball on that one.”
Frye said from the doorway, “No reason to connect her case to what little we had to go on from the wire.” She shrugged out of her topcoat and draped it haphazardly over an empty chair back. “You know how these things run. A bunch of loose threads that don’t point anywhere until one little bit starts to knit them all together.” She smiled, an altogether feral smile. “Maybe we have that little piece or two now. Carmody’s got something for us too.”
Watts drummed his fingers on the table. “I might have another thing working, Loo.”
“Good. Hold that until Carmody and the rest get here,” Frye said.
Five minutes later Carmody walked in with Sandy and Nunez. Dell hadn’t seen Sandy for almost twenty-four hours, and she looked so good in her off-duty skinny jeans and tight stretchy top, her body came wide awake.
“Hey,” Dell said.
“Hi, Rookie,” Sandy said softly, and the teasing tone shot right down to the pit of Dell’s stomach and went off like a firecracker.
“Team’s looking better all the time,” Watts said, giving Sandy a wink.
She laughed and sat down across from him and Dell. “Sounds like you missed me.”
“You know,” Watts said, “if you ever get a hankering for a guy with a—”
“Uh-uh.” Sandy shook her head, and slid Dell a slow smile. “Your whatever is probably awesome, but I’m just fine, thanks.”
Watts chuckled and Sandy introduced Oz to those he didn’t know.
“So here’s what we’ve got,” Frye said, and everyone straightened up and got serious. “Sandy and Oscar have been working an unidentified Jane Doe who overdosed from a synthetic opioid. Point of origin for the drug unknown.” She paused, looked their way. “I take it you haven’t tracked down the source or dealer?”
“We haven’t hit on much of anything,” Oscar said. “We’ve been waiting for a repeat, but nobody’s talking about anything new or who might be handling the shit.”
“No repeats until tonight,” Dell muttered.
Sandy swiveled. “You got another one? At the Galaxy?”
“That’s why I got you two out of bed,” Frye said. “We’ve been looking for some kind of connection to Zamora and an unknown faction who might be looking to disrupt his business or put his people in the spotlight. The first hint we got of anything came over the wire, speculation of a body dump in his territory.”
“Our girl?” Sandy looked like she was about to burst.
Frye nodded at her. “Yes, that’s what we think. The ME made a connect with the drug envelopes on our scene tonight. Victim p
rofiles match too.”
Watts cleared his throat. “Positive ID is pending, but it looks like her name is Mary Ann Scofield. A senior at Schuyler.”
Sandy pounced. “How did you get that?”
Watts gave her a waggle of his bushy eyebrows. “I went to the source and woke up the college president, who woke up the dean of students. Helpful guy named Davoud.” Watts glanced at Dell. “Once you had that student ID, I figured, why not find out if they all knew each other. So I asked this guy if they could track students who dropped out, especially if they aren’t official. You know, like just stopped showing up.”
“They can,” Sloan said, “but with all the colleges around here, you’d have to know where to look.”
“Yep.” Watts looked at his notes. “Anyhow, Schuyler has this process called Early Warning System. If a student is an unexplained no-show for longer than a week, the professor submits a report online and that sends out an alert to all sorts of people—including the dean.”
“Did they call missing persons?” Dell asked.
“This guy says that’s standard after they go through their protocols first—checking with family, friends, the usual. He’s going to look into it first thing this morning, but probably just got lost in the system.”
“But you have a name already,” Sandy said.
Watts nodded. “Only two students on his list were girls, and I tracked down one of them with a phone call. No one has seen or heard of Mary Ann, including her parents, who were out of the country until just a few days ago.”
“Photo?” Frye said.
“Davoud is emailing me one from admissions as soon as they open at eight.”
“Send that to Sandy and Oscar.” Frye looked at Sandy. “She’s still yours. Follow up with the ME after you get the photo. They’ll advise family if and when.”
“Got it, Lieutenant.” Sandy tipped her head to Watts. “Nice going. I should have thought of that.”
“Don’t feel bad, sweet thing. Would have been hard to chase down without knowing the school first.”
Dell grinned to herself when Sandy smiled. If anyone else had called her that, she’d have castrated him. She said, “We’re gonna have to track down the friends and associates and see if we can pin down a dealer.”
