by Jo Leigh
“Richie will do what he can to help,” Guy said. “He’s a good man.”
“His name was Stan?”
Guy nodded.
“And he got her on drugs?”
He nodded again.
“Is that why…?”
“No, at least not for the most part. Heath has a genetic illness, as far as we can tell.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that we’re still doing tests. These things aren’t simple. There are so many conditions. If it is what we think, then it’s serious but not fatal.”
“Don’t give me that doctorspeak, Guy. Tell me what you know.”
“We think Heath might have Noonan’s syndrome. But we have to wait to find out for sure.”
“And if he does?”
“Then he’ll need a special kind of care for the rest of his life. He may not develop normally. He might exhibit traits similar to Down’s syndrome, and his physical condition will be…difficult.”
Tammy’s eyes closed, and he noticed her hands were trembling in her lap. It must seem so unfair to her to have this happen to her ordered life. Now that she’d finally found herself, she was going to have to give it all up to care for Heath. If she decided to take him. She could also give him up for adoption.
The thought chilled Guy to the bone. Finding someone to care for Heath would be a challenge. He knew there were people who took special-needs children into their lives, but there were so many children out there.
The bottom line was that Tammy was the child’s closest relative. Tammy and Walter. But there wasn’t a chance in hell that Walter was going to lift a finger to help the boy. He’d barely acknowledged his own daughter, let alone a bastard grandson.
Guy just hoped Tammy would take some time, consider all the options. He prayed that Heath would live long enough for her to fall in love with him.
Tammy’s head came up, her eyes dry now and fired up with anger. “So who was she?”
“Pardon?”
“Don’t even start.”
“She’s a friend, Tammy. A co-worker.”
“She’s a nurse?”
“A doctor. A fine one. She’s an attending physician in the E.R.”
“Isn’t that a little too close, even for you?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Oh? From where I stood, it was very much like that. Or do you make out with all your attendings?”
He smiled, working at keeping a lid on his temper. She wasn’t making it easy. “Knock it off, Tammy. We aren’t married anymore. We haven’t been for years. What I do is my business.”
She looked at him with such palpable disdain he felt dirty. “You haven’t changed a bit. Not one bit. Still the most selfish bastard I’ve ever met.”
“Yep, that’s me.” He stood up and pushed his chair into the desk. “Do you want to see your grandchild, or would you prefer to keep harping at me?”
Tammy winced, and he tried to care. “Yes, I want to see him.”
He headed to the door, not even looking back to see if she was behind him. Connie had gone home a while ago. As he led Tammy to the elevator, he glanced at the E.R. He knew Rachel had also gone home, and he wondered if she was as nonplussed by what had happened as he was. Not Tammy’s unfortunate timing, but before that.
When he’d kissed her…God, he hadn’t expected anything like that. She hadn’t been just another woman in his arms, another conquest. He’d felt—
“Are you coming?”
He realized he was standing outside the elevator, and that Tammy was holding the door. He walked inside, unwilling to think about Rachel or that kiss while he was with Tammy. Especially now. Despite her vindictiveness, he had to remember what a difficult time she was having. Seeing Heath wasn’t going to be any kind of a comfort, and accepting that Heather would never know her son would be a special form of hell.
On the fourth floor, Tammy slowed her pace. She still twisted the tissue in her right hand, while her left clutched her purse like a lifeline.
“We need to scrub up, put on a mask before we can see him.”
“Is he contagious?”
“No, but we are. The children in here are highly susceptible to any airborne illness. Every precaution is taken not to introduce foreign bacteria.”
She watched him wash and followed suit, and then he put the mask over her mouth and nose. He took her to Heath’s incubator, although she stopped a few feet away.
He understood. It wasn’t easy to see such a tiny creature in so much distress. Even though every piece of equipment was scaled down to preemie size, the effect was still overwhelming.
Heath’s jaundice had diminished, but his weight hadn’t improved. He looked impossibly small, and the tiny wool cap on his head almost covered his eyes.
What worried Guy the most was the infant’s lack of mobility. Heath was so still that if Guy hadn’t been looking at the monitors, if he hadn’t been able to read the heart rhythm, he would have thought Heath was a terrible doll, not a living child.
From behind him, he heard Tammy’s gasp, and a moan that came from the deepest part of her heart. He turned and pulled her into his arms and just held her for a long, long time, while she wept for all that was lost, all that would never be.
RACHEL HUNG UP, but kept her hand on the phone. She looked at the clock by her bed. Almost eleven-thirty. Guy was probably asleep. At least he should be. But the information Lieutenant Montgomery had given her was the first hopeful thing that had happened since Heather’s death.
She lifted the phone and dialed his home number. At the third ring, she went to hang up, but his voice stopped her. “Did I wake you?” she asked.
“Rachel.” The way he said her name made her bring her legs up to her chest and hug them tight. “No, you didn’t wake me. I just got home.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry about that introduction this afternoon. Tammy isn’t so bad. It’s just a rough time for her.”
“Yeah, I imagine it is. How about you?”
He laughed, although there was no humor in it. “Today wasn’t pretty. But Tammy’s safe in her hotel room. She’s said all the things she wanted to say, and I think tomorrow might be a little easier on both of us.”
“And Heath?”
“He’s the same. She wasn’t prepared, of course. How could she be.”
“It’s going to be tough.”
“I think we’re all going to be taking this one step at a time.”
“Sure.”
“Are you all right?”
“Me? Oh, yeah.” She shifted her position and slid under the covers, bringing them high up on her chest. “I got a call from your friend.”
“Richie?”
“Yes. He knows who Stan is.”
She heard his sharp intake of breath, then nothing for several heartbeats. “Who is he?”
“His name is Stan DiGrasso, and he’s wanted for possession and distribution of drugs. He’s been in trouble for years, and he’s brought a lot of people down with him.”
“Mostly, I’m guessing, young girls.”
“That’s not official, but yes. Montgomery believes he can connect DiGrasso to three other young women. But he can’t find any of them. They all just vanished. Their parents have no idea what happened to them. It’s not good.”
“Does he know where DiGrasso is?”
“No, although he does believe he’s still in Los Angeles. They’re going after one of his sources. The drugs are the only way they know how to track him down.”
Again, there was silence, and Rachel pictured Guy standing in his beautiful kitchen. She knew he had to be exhausted beyond belief, and the kindest thing she could do would be hang up and talk to him tomorrow. But she’d already made the mistake of calling, so she’d wait until he said goodbye.
“There might be another way,” Guy said.
“What do you mean?”
“If he’s fathered other children with these women, then there
must be hospital records. If even one of those kids inherited the disorder, he or she would need a tremendous amount of care.”
“Of course. Hospital records of anyone born in the last five years with Noonan’s.”
“We can get that here, then when I’m in L.A….”
“You can try and track him from the records.”
“Yeah, right. Listen. Tammy made her decision about Heather.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I know I’m switching gears here, but bear with me, okay?”
“Sure.”
“Heather’s going to be buried in Los Angeles.”
“Oh, my. Why?”
“Tammy has friends there. Walter’s there.”
“When?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
“That’s good. You can investigate while you’re there.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking. If we can do the traces tomorrow, there’s a chance I can track him down.”
She smiled. Guy needed something to do, something positive that would make him feel as if he was making a difference. Getting that bastard would fit the bill nicely. It would be the only good thing about his trip. Burying his stepdaughter would be harder than anything she could imagine.
“Rachel?”
“Yeah?”
“Come with me.”
She laughed. “Guy, come on. Don’t be silly. I have to work, you know that.”
“I can get someone to cover for you.”
“You’ll already be gone. Won’t that leave us in the lurch?”
“I’m serious, I can make sure we’re covered. That’s not an issue.”
“But if I go with you, who’s going to watch Heath?”
He didn’t say anything for a while, and she figured he must have realized how absurd it was to even think she could go with him to Los Angeles.
“You were right—what you said this afternoon. He’s in the best possible hands. And as I found out tonight, I’m actually not helping matters.”
“What do you mean?”
“Now that Tim Burns is back, he told me the best thing I can do for Heath right now is to let him do his job. My second-guessing every procedure is making everyone on the team nervous.”
“I’m not making them crazy.”
“But you’re making me uncrazy.”
She had no idea how to respond to that. She tried to say something, but gave up.
“Today, when you were…there,” Guy began, “I felt, I don’t know, at peace…for the first time since this all began. In fact, it’s not just today. I can’t explain it. I just know it’s true. I need you to come with me, Rachel. I’ll get us separate rooms. This isn’t about what Tammy said. I’m not going to seduce you. It’s about…I need a friend. And I’d be more grateful than you can ever know if you’d consider coming with me.”
Rachel pulled the phone away and stared at it, as if it had sprouted wings. She knew Guy meant what he was saying, but she didn’t believe she could be whatever it was he wanted her to be.
To leave work was out of the question. She hadn’t missed a day in over a year.
To leave work to go to L.A. with Guy was…Well, it just couldn’t happen.
Okay, she felt something for him, but come on. This was nuts. He was in pain, that’s all. Confused. It was a devastating time for him, and his thinking was all over the map.
“Rachel?”
She brought the phone back to her ear as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Guy. It’s just not a good idea.”
“I know. But I’m asking you to do it anyway.”
Rachel closed her eyes and sighed. Then she heard Allie’s voice in the back of her mind telling her she was a chicken. A wimp. A coward. Allie would have poohpoohed all the completely legitimate reasons for saying no, and she would have said it was good for Rachel to risk this. Allie would never let her live it down if she said no.
Rachel opened her eyes again. “All right, I’ll go,” she said. “But only if I’m absolutely certain the E.R. is covered.”
It was crazy, but she could have sworn she heard him smile.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE AUTOPSY SUITE at Courage Bay Hospital was a meticulous white, and Callie Baker noted with approval that the morgue technician and the pathologist were well into Bruce Nepom’s autopsy when she arrived. She’d asked to be present for the examination of the skull and brain, and from the looks of things, it would be another twenty or thirty minutes before that procedure would begin.
Just as she was about to go outside and call Chief Zirinsky, the door behind her opened. Max had a white gown on over his uniform. He looked strikingly handsome, especially when he smiled at her.
“I knew I shouldn’t have had breakfast before I came here,” he said.
“After all these years, you’re not used to autopsies?”
He shook his head. “It’s a miracle I don’t embarrass myself.”
“I remember a few when you looked pretty green.”
He shook his head, but took the jab with good humor. “So what are you thinking on this, Callie?”
“I’m anxious to see the back of his skull and the damage done to the posterior of the brain.”
“You’ll be able to tell if the injury was caused by something other than a falling roof?”
“I should, yes.” She walked closer to the autopsy table. Nepom’s body had already been cleared of internal organs, and the body block had been removed from underneath his back. The pathologist, Ralph Kushner, who’d been with Courage Bay Hospital for almost ten years, nodded her way.
“We’re doing the brain now, Doctor,” he said.
Nepom’s head was elevated and Kushner used his scalpel to reveal the skull. Typically, he would cut the skull now to reveal the brain, but instead, he exposed the back area so that he and Callie could look at the damage.
As she suspected, there was a deep concussion just above the brain stem, with a large portion of the skull shattered. “There,” she said to Max. “That was the result of a heavy blow by a blunt instrument. A hammer or a pipe. But my money’s on a hammer.”
Max cursed softly, taking out a notebook that he had in his breast pocket. “You’ll get me the report ASAP?”
“Of course.”
The pathologist went on to remove the brain, and it amazed Callie that Nepom had lived as long as he had. “You know anything about him?” she asked Max.
“Not much, but I have a feeling I’m going to get to know Mr. Nepom real well.”
“There’s one other thing I wanted to show you,” she said, moving down to Nepom’s arm. She held it up, her white gloves so clean-looking next to the man’s weathered skin. “This tattoo.”
Max looked at it carefully and made another notation in his book. “Can you get a picture of that for me?”
Callie glanced at the morgue technician. “Will you take care of that, Dell? Send me the pictures along with the report.”
“Sure thing, Dr. Baker,” he said, heading to the side cupboards where they kept the camera equipment.
“Is there anything else?” She put Nepom’s arm down carefully before turning to Max.
“No, I think that pretty much says it all. Do you have any idea about directionality of the blow?”
“It looked to me as if it came down from the left.”
“Great. Listen, I have to get to a meeting. But I appreciate you calling me in on this.”
“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
He nodded. “Thank you, gentlemen,” he said, although he didn’t wait for a response. Callie couldn’t blame him for leaving as quickly as he could. Autopsies were tough for anyone. She watched him walk out of the room, but just before the door closed behind him, he turned to her, as if he was going to say something else, then simply smiled and left.
Callie turned back to the body, watching as the pathologist went inch by inch over the brain, the skull and the blunt-force trauma that had killed Bruce Nepom.
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GUY WAITED until Connie had finished writing before he put down his coffee. “Have I forgotten anything?”
“Don’t think so,” she said, reviewing her notes. “We’ve got everything covered here, even if you’re gone a week.”
“I won’t be. Three days, at the most. Probably two. The funeral is tomorrow, and we should be able to find out what we can about Stan the following day.”
“I’m just saying you don’t need to worry. The E.R. is looked after, and Dr. Burns is going to be with Heath. I’ll check on the baby regularly, so all you have to do is call me for an update.”
Guy stood up, feeling guilty about leaving the boy. “You’re sure?”
“Doctor, everyone on staff has a particular fondness for that little guy. We’ll watch him as if he were our own.”
“I know that, Connie, and I appreciate it more than I can say. I wouldn’t be leaving if I didn’t believe it.”
“You have important things to do. And what else is there but to do them?”
Guy smiled, appreciating Connie more than ever. “I know it’s probably hopeless, but maybe you can stem the rumor tide about Rachel. She’s being a real friend here, and she doesn’t need to go through the gossip mill.”
Connie folded her steno book, then stood. “It’s too late. But I’ll do my best to feed the truth in there somehow.”
The phone rang, and Connie answered. She frowned, then handed it to Guy. “I’ll get to work on these schedules,” she said, heading for the door.
“Hello?”
“I’ve talked to Walter,” Tammy said, eschewing any pleasantries. “The service is at eleven at Forest Lawn.”
“I’ll be there,” he said.
“I don’t see any reason for me to stay, so I’ll be catching a plane tonight. Walter will get me from the airport.”
Guy’s gut tightened with anger, but he held back, not wanting to start anything now. No reason to stay? What about her grandson? Screw it, he thought. “Are you coming to see Heath before you leave?”
