Resuscitation

by D. M. Annechino

  Feeling nauseous again, which lately seemed to be mainstream for Sami, she went outside for some fresh air.

  “Be right back,” Sami said.

  She wasn’t sure if her desire to go outside was driven more by her queasy stomach or having reached her limit on the awkwardness between Al and her. Something had to give. Either she had to bury her pain and give him another shot, or she had to break it off completely, which created new problems. It was one thing for him to move out of her house, and quite another telling Captain Davidson that they could no longer work together.

  If she truly were a good cop deserving of the confidence Mayor Sullivan had placed in her, her personal life would temporarily remain in the background and she’d be totally focused on apprehending the Resuscitator. In spite of what she believed was the right thing to do, thoughts of Al’s affair and the status of their relationship had dominated her thoughts. At the heart of the issue was one immutable fact: Samantha Marie Rizzo was deeply in love with Alberto Diaz. And if Hollywood films and Gothic novels were even partially true, love could conquer any obstacle.

  Right now, all she wanted was a two-pound box of Godiva chocolates.

  Al popped his head out the door. “She’s ready for us.”

  They went to Cardoza’s office and sat down. Cardoza closed the door.

  “Well, I spoke to the regional manager and I think we can give you the information you’re looking for.”

  “Fabulous,” Al said.

  “How soon can we get a DNA match, personal information, and a photo?” Sami asked.

  “First thing in the morning.”

  Sami looked at her watch. Three o’clock. “With all due respect, tomorrow morning might as well be Christmas. At the department, we can match DNA samples in minutes. Why is it going to take eighteen hours?”

  “Because you have access to the FBI’s National DNA Index System. Our system, although efficient, is no match for the FBI’s. It’s like comparing a black-and-white TV to a high-definition plasma. I can’t make the system respond more quickly than it’s capable of responding. It’s a technical issue. Barring any unforeseen obstacles, I can have the information tomorrow morning at nine.”

  Sami wanted to argue, but to what end? They’d already discovered that the perp’s DNA was not registered with the FBI’s database. Not to mention the fact that the database for the Del Mar Fertility Center was private information. Even with a court order, not Judge Foster or the mayor herself could force them to comply immediately. In fact, the court order itself stated that the Del Mar Fertility Center must provide DNA information matching the sample supplied by the San Diego Police Department “as soon as logistically possible.”

  “We’ll be back tomorrow morning at nine sharp,” Sami said. “If for any reason you should get the results sooner, please call me on my cell phone.” She handed Marie Cardoza a business card.

  Sami dropped off Al at the precinct parking garage. Although things were really heating up with the investigation, Sami needed a little time to decompress. Besides, it felt as if she hadn’t seen her family in decades. “I’m heading home. Going to take my mother, Angelina, and Emily out for a quick dinner. Can you move your stuff out while we’re gone?”

  Al opened the door and stepped out of the car. He leaned inside and looked at her. “If that’s what you want, you got it.”

  “No, it’s not what I want. It’s what has to be.”

  “Call me just before you go to dinner and I’ll be out of there in thirty minutes.”

  “Remember what I said. For now, just take your essentials.”

  “You mean a toothbrush and deodorant?”

  “I think you might want to grab some underwear.”

  This exchange was the closest they came to lightheartedness since he’d confessed to having an affair. She missed their banter and camaraderie.

  “I’ll meet you at the fertility center tomorrow morning,” Al said.

  “You don’t have to meet me. I can do this on my own.”

  “I want to be there.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Sami wanted to drive off but Al still stood there with the door opened.

  “Tell the clan I said hi.”

  “Will do,” Sami said softly.

  Sami and her family sat in a booth sipping sodas, waiting for the waitress to take their orders. Sami wasn’t really in the mood for Italian food tonight, which was a rare occasion, but her mom insisted that they go to DeMarco’s, Josephine’s favorite restaurant. As usual, her mother always got her way. At least Angelina would be happy. She loved their mac and cheese.

  “Thanks for the nice surprise, Sami,” Emily said. “I didn’t really feel like cooking tonight.”

  “My pleasure, Emily,” Sami said. “You deserve a hell of a lot more than dinner.”

  “Mommy, can I have some ’ronis and cheese?” Angelina asked.

  “Of course, Sweetheart,” Grandma Rizzo said.

  Sami hated when her mother answered a question directed to her. It was just one of many things that got under her skin.

  Wanting to make the announcement as matter-of-factly as possible, Sami just blurted without forethought. “Al is moving out.”

  “Where’s he going, Mommy?”

  How could she answer this question? “He’s getting his own place, Honey.”

  As Sami expected, her mom gave her a sidelong glance with a suspicious look in her eyes. Emily stared blankly at Sami as if she’d seen a ghost.

  “Is this permanent?” Josephine asked.

  “Is anything permanent?”

  “Apparently not.”

  Sami held her tongue. Originally, she had thought about coming clean and telling her mother and Emily that Al had an affair, but she now realized the idea bordered on insanity.

  “I knew when Alberto moved to the living room sofa bed, that his next move would be out the door,” Josephine said.

  “Are you okay?” Emily asked.

  Sami swallowed hard. “I’m…fine.”

  “What made Alberto move?” Josephine asked. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything. We just decided that we both needed some time and space to think.”

  “Time to think?” Josephine repeated, the tone of her voice laced with sarcasm. “Once two people split up, it’s never the same again. Remember Aunt Florence and Uncle Rocco?”

  How could she forget? When Sami’s aunt and uncle split up—Sami had just turned ten—Aunt Florence moved in “for a while,” which turned out to be over a year. Florence never uttered a civil word to Rocco when they talked on the telephone, and Sami got a daily dose of their verbal confrontations. Eventually, when Florence filed for divorce it became the center of family gossip. If ever there were a mismatched couple, those two won the prize. Was this her destiny with Al?

  “Gee, Mom,” Sami said. “Thanks for comparing Al and me to Aunt Florence and Uncle Rocco. That’s such a compliment.”

  “All I’m saying is that once two people go their separate ways, there’s no going backwards. If Alberto moves out, you can kiss him goodbye.”

  Sami hated to admit it, but in part, her mother’s viewpoint made sense. Over the years, she had seen more divorce than reconciliation—not only in her own family, but through friendships and friends of friends. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe Al moving out was the beginning of the end.

  “Hi, Julian. It’s Ted Hastings. Can you do me a huge favor?”

  Julian slipped on his Bluetooth. “What’s up?”

  “I was scheduled to perform the pre-op tests on the O’Neill girl first thing in the morning, but I’ve got a conflict in my schedule. Any chance you could stand in for me?”

  A key component to the prescreening process prior to surgery included a comprehensive evaluation by one key member of the surgical team. Julian didn’t really want to substitute for Doctor Hastings—it could prove risky—but he had little choice.

  “No problem. I can handle it.”

  “T
errific. I’m really looking forward to meeting Doctor Fisher and assisting.”

  “It should be quite an experience,” Julian said. “Maybe we’ll even make the front cover of the American Journal of Cardiology.”

  “What we’re doing isn’t exactly groundbreaking, but if we save this girl, it’s going to grab some attention from the entire medical community.”

  Save her? Not a chance.

  “Thanks again, Julian. Contact me if you run into any problems.”

  Shortly after dinner, Josephine went to bed and Sami helped Angelina slip into her Sponge Bob Square Pants pajamas, while Emily sat in the living room sipping a glass of Ferrari-Carano Rosato di Sangiovese. Sami tucked in her daughter and sat on the edge of the bed. She bent forward and kissed Angelina on the forehead.

  “Good night, Sweetheart.”

  “Mommy, is Al going to be with Daddy up in heaven?”

  Heaven was the last place Tommy DiSalvo would spend eternity. “No, Honey.”

  “Then how come we can’t see him anymore?”

  “You will see him, Honey. He’s just not going to sleep here.”

  Angelina thought about Sami’s answer. “Will he still take us out for ice cream?”

  Wouldn’t that be awkward? “Well, if Al can’t take you, I still can.”

  “But he’s funny, Mommy. He makes me laugh. And he tickles better than you do.”

  Sami could hardly hold back the tears. Her daughter had already suffered one loss. And now she might be facing another. When she and Al first decided to live together, Sami had thought long and hard. The last thing she wanted was to bring another man into Angelina’s life, only to watch him disappear. Angelina had just validated her biggest fear.

  “Well, Sweetheart, maybe Mommy can learn how to tickle you like Al did.”

  Sami kissed her again, turned on her nightlight, and walked in the living room. Emily had already poured Sami a generous glass of wine.

  Emily patted the sofa cushion next to her. “Have a seat, Cuz.”

  Before sitting down, Sami gulped two mouthfuls of wine.

  “We’re not slamming tequila,” Emily said. “It’s a sipping wine.”

  “Then maybe we should bring out the Patrón.”

  “Want to talk about it?” Emily offered.

  Sami didn’t want to talk about it, but if she didn’t vent to someone she trusted really soon, her head would surely explode. Whom in her life could she trust more than Emily?

  “Things have gotten rather complicated,” Sami said. “When Al was in Rio tending to his sister, he…”

  Emily reached over and grabbed her hand.

  “He had an affair with a nurse.”

  Emily went silent for a moment. “Wow. That knocks my socks off.”

  “Why? That’s what men do, isn’t it? They wine and dine you, make you fall in love with them, and then they rip out your heart and stomp on it.”

  “I can’t back you up on that one, Cuz. I haven’t had time to date since high school.”

  “Trust me. You’re better off.”

  “Is it over?” Emily asked. “I mean really over?”

  “I can’t answer that question right now. I’m still waiting for my anger to settle down. How can you think clearly when you’re seething?”

  “Does that mean you’re considering giving him another chance?”

  “Not sure. Just not sure.”

  Emily slipped her arm around Sami’s shoulders and gave her a hug.

  “Want some advice from a snot-nosed kid?” Emily asked.

  “Sure. You’re wiser than most people twice your age.”

  “I don’t understand much about relationships, so this is coming from my gut. But I think what Al and you have is something special. Something rare. Maybe you can’t see it, but when he looks at you, I can tell that he just loves you to death. He’s a good guy. Sometimes good people screw up. I would guess that when he was in Rio, thinking that his sister would die, he was weak and vulnerable. This nurse came along and gave him comfort. I don’t think it was about sex or a negative reflection on his feelings for you. It most certainly wasn’t about his feelings for the nurse. It could have been anyone close enough to offer him emotional support. If I can be so bold as to offer my opinion, don’t let him get away. Give him another chance to prove his love. He’s worth it, Cuz.”

  Sami squeezed back the tears. “I love you, Emily.”

  Julian stopped by the nurses’ station and commandeered a nurse to assist him with McKenzie’s pre-op tests. Again, a policeman stationed just outside McKenzie’s hospital room stopped him at the door.

  “Hello, Doc. Back again, hey?”

  “Ms. O’Neill is scheduled for surgery early tomorrow so I have to run some pre-op tests.” He pointed to the nurse. “Ms. Oliver is here to assist me.”

  “Okay if I join you?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  The cop shook his head. “’Fraid not. It’s standard procedure.”

  Julian didn’t care that the cop tagged along because he had no intentions of harming McKenzie in any way. He’d already decided that her moment of truth would come during surgery. But in spite of Julian’s indifferent attitude, he couldn’t deny that the cop annoyed the hell out of him. “So, doctor-patient confidentiality means nothing?”

  “Not in this situation.”

  Julian walked in the room with the cop and nurse following behind. Nurse Oliver knew exactly how to proceed without direction. While she drew blood from McKenzie’s left arm, Julian went through a series of diagnostic tests, one of which was to check her pupils to see if they reacted to light. Just as he backed away, McKenzie’s fingers twitched and her eyes opened slightly. Julian didn’t think that either Nurse Oliver or the cop noticed this, but he stood directly over her and her eyes locked on his face.

  “It’s you,” McKenzie said softly.

  Julian backed away as if she’d hit him in the gut with a battering ram.

  “It’s you,” she said again, a little louder this time.

  If she regained total consciousness, there would be no place for him to hide.

  “Did you hear that?” Nurse Oliver said.

  “Hear what?” the cop said.

  “The patient said something. Did you hear it, Doctor?”

  “I heard her mumble something, but I don’t think she’s conscious. It’s not uncommon for a comatose patient to experience brief moments of responsiveness.”

  “It’s you,” McKenzie said. This time much more pronounced.

  “I must resemble someone she knows,” Julian explained, hoping they would buy into his reasoning. “Considering the critical condition of her heart, we can’t let her get riled.” He turned towards Nurse Oliver. “I need 10 milligrams of diazepam, stat. I’ll update her chart and make the appropriate notations.”

  “Right away, Doctor.” Nurse Oliver left the room immediately.

  “Forgive me, Doctor,” the cop said, “but the detectives assigned to handle this investigation asked me to alert them the moment the patient regained consciousness. A five-minute conversation could help us apprehend her assailant. I don’t quite understand why you’re going to sedate her.”

  Julian wasn’t sure if he could hold himself together, but he did his best to stay calm. If the cop prevented Nurse Oliver from administering the sedative long enough for Detective Rizzo to get here, everything in his life would come crashing down.

  “She may appear to be lucid,” Julian insisted. “But I assure you, the only thing that’s going to come out of her mouth is incoherent mumbling. Her heart is barely functioning. If we don’t keep her completely at rest, she may never make it to surgery tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay, Doctor. Point well taken. I still have to follow my orders and contact the detectives at once. Whatever they decide to do is between you and them.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Just then, Nurse Oliver returned with the syringe. While the cop was facing the other way, talking on his cell ph
one, she injected the sedative into McKenzie’s IV.

  Unless Sami Rizzo was driving a rocket ship, Julian thought, McKenzie O’Neill would be out cold long before the detective got here.

  For the first time today, Julian felt a slight sense of relief.

  After a long dose of soul searching, Sami prepared herself to meet Al at the Del Mar Fertility Center. Just seeing him was painful. During the night of restless sleep, Emily’s words played in Sami’s mind like an endless CD. Over and over again, Sami kept hearing the same words: “Give him another chance to prove his love. He’s worth it, Cuz.”

  Sami didn’t doubt that Al was worth it. His worth was not the issue. What she doubted was her ability to ever trust him again. Without trust, a relationship is doomed. If he came home a little late, would she give him the third degree? If he went out with the guys for a beer, would she chew on her fingernails wondering if he was on the prowl? If she picked up a strange scent when she hugged him, would she accuse him of being with another woman?

  All these troubling questions and few answers.

  Just as she was about to pull in the driveway of the fertility center, her cell phone rang.

  “Detective Rizzo.”

  “It’s Officer Dolinski. I just wanted to tell you that for a brief period, Ms. O’Neill opened her eyes and mumbled a few words.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Her words were barely audible. I couldn’t quite make them out.”

  “Is she still conscious?”

  “The nurse—I believe her name was Ms. Oliver—gave her a sedative to help keep her calm. The doctor said that her heart is very weak and if they didn’t sedate her, she could go into cardiac arrest.”

  “What’s the doctor’s name?”

  “So many doctors fly in and out of her room, his name escapes me. My shift just ended and I’m walking to my patrol car. The clipboard with the list of doctors and nurses authorized to see Ms. O’Neill is with Joe Martinelli, the officer who relieved me. I’ve had some difficulty getting a cell phone signal in the hospital, but I’d be happy to go back upstairs, check the clipboard, and call you right back.”