Or not.
Only four senior citizens were in the spacious lounge where Tilly had last entertained the group instead of the six who’d been there before. All were still hospitalized and doing relatively well, the nurse in charge assured Grace when she asked. The ones not present had been scheduled for additional tests that afternoon.
Tilly didn’t seem to mind having a lesser audience. Her show here once again brought attention and laughter. She took a particular liking to one of the elders in a wheelchair and kept showing off in front of him, until he chortled even louder and held out his hand, patting her on her service-dog vest.
Tilly’s enhanced interest concerned Grace. She approached the patient and inhaled softly, sensing immediately what she had feared.
She approached the head nurse, drew her aside, and said, “Like a lot of dogs, Tilly’s senses allow her to smell things way beyond what humans can do. The way she’s hanging around that patient suggests that Tilly may smell some diseased tissue—cancerous, perhaps. If he hasn’t already been checked thoroughly, I’d suggest you have it done. Or even do it again, in case it’s been missed.”
Grace had come in contact with many infectious diseases thanks to her medical specialty, as well as those that were not infectious. Even with her advanced senses, she seldom diagnosed a problem based solely on what she smelled. But she had often known there was a problem, like that shigellosis outbreak. And now she, too, sensed something that wasn’t right. The older gentleman needed to be checked out.
“I’ve heard of dogs doing that,” the middleaged nurse said with her eyes wide. She smelled of disinfectant. “I’ll make sure that Mr. Thomas is examined again. He’s here for an injury he suffered when he fell at his military son’s quarters at Zimmer, so he was probably not examined for anything besides injuries and infection.”
Grace felt doubly glad to have brought Tilly to this area today. The dog who was her backup might have helped not only to enrich the lives of the people she’d entertained, but might also have saved a life. In this, Grace had been Tilly’s backup.
She exited the door to the geriatric area and made sure it locked behind her, then led Tilly to the wing where patients admitted for psychiatric issues were located.
Once again, she had called ahead. The nurse in charge whom she’d met before, Ellie Yong, had acted delighted to hear from her. As a result of her call, the same PTSD patients Tilly had entertained before were in the lounge area, minus the one Grace had asked not be invited, Sgt. Norman Ivers. Several new ones were there, as well.
Pvt. Alice Johns wasted no time dashing to Tilly, kneeling and giving her a hug. One of the other two soldiers who had reacted most to Tilly before, PFC George Harper, stayed back a little, as if embarrassed at how he had embraced her before. Sgt. Jim Kubowski, who had acted indifferent until Tilly gave him her paw, required no handshake now to greet her enthusiastically.
Tilly’s performance this time was brief and again got these psychologically damaged soldiers to laugh and cheer.
Grace eventually noticed that the unwelcome Sgt. Ivers had appeared after all, standing behind the crowd and watching Tilly’s show with a scowl. Grace kept her eye on him. She would not let him get close to Tilly. Fortunately, he remained at a distance.
Tilly danced and rolled over and put on as good a show here as she had at their two other venues that day. When she started slowing down, clearly exhausted, Grace decided it was almost time to end the show.
Because of what had occurred with that one senior citizen, Grace first had Tilly dance around among the soldiers, just in case she sensed something inside any that required additional attention. Tilly didn’t act differently toward any members of her current audience.
Grace, on the other hand, let her senses go wild—and, as she had before here, she picked up on some of the meds being used to help in the detox of these hospitalized mental patients.
She felt sorry for them. They had been to hell in their military experiences and were still recuperating. Some might never fully recuperate, and could remain addicts as well for the rest of their lives. Grace wished she could help them even more than simply having Tilly entertain them. But she knew they were being treated well at Charles Carder.
Soon, after goodbyes were said, Tilly and she headed for the locked door that would lead them back into the hospital.
Cheering up a bit once they were outside the psych wing, Grace had an urge to talk to someone about what she had experienced with Tilly. To pat her dog—and herself—on the back for possibly helping to find a previously undiagnosed disease in the elderly patient. Alpha Force members would get it. But another shifter with similar characteristics to hers, like an enhanced sense of smell in human form, would get it even more. That left out Autumn Kater, the shapeshifting hawk, despite her fascinating talents.
On her way back to her quarters with Tilly, Grace called Drew Connell. The major would definitely relate to what Grace had experienced.
He didn’t answer, so Grace left a message. Then she called Lt. Patrick Worley, who also shifted into wolf form. Patrick had recently married a nonshifter whom he’d met while on an Alpha Force mission in Alaska, an assignment in which his medical background had been irrelevant. He had investigated some really bad stuff going on around certain glaciers. He’d not only found answers, but true love, too.
Patrick answered right away. “Sorry, I can’t talk right now. Alpha Force emergency. I’m on my way to the nearest base hospital—Melanie’s gone into labor.”
Translation: Drew’s nonshifting wife was having their baby, and the doctors who worked at the military hospital where she was in labor weren’t Alpha Force members. Patrick was going to help keep the unit’s true nature secret, as well as to do anything to assist in the birth of Drew and Melanie’s baby, which was likely to inherit his abilities. Not that they would be apparent so early. But doctors with their knowledge needed to be there in case of complications.
Which meant that neither of them would be around for a while to hold a discussion with Grace.
Not that what she had in mind was urgent. She didn’t really need a pat on the back. Even so, she felt a sense of isolation. Sure, she could get together with fellow Alpha Force members here, but none would fully get it.
That was when she realized she was just giving herself excuses. There was someone else here she could talk to. In fact, a substantial part of her mood was undoubtedly the result of wanting to talk with him.
Not that she could really tell him what she had experienced, and why.
But seeing Simon just might make her feel less alone.
Chapter 10
This was a bad idea, Grace thought a short while later.
She had shown up at the hospital cafeteria at the time Simon had said he would be there and bought a steak sandwich to satisfy her canine appetite, along with a small salad for her health-conscious human side.
He was already sitting in the area where they had dined previously, munching on a hamburger.
He stood quickly when he saw her and took her tray. His hand brushed hers momentarily before he placed her food on the table. The pleased expression on his great-looking face nearly took her breath away. “Glad you made it, Grace,” he said. “One of these days, though, we’ll have to try a real restaurant.”
“One that doesn’t pass along shigellosis.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Grace took a seat across from him. As always, the cafeteria was crowded, both with staff and visitors. No one near them sat alone, so there was some degree of privacy for their conversation.
Even so, Grace knew the moment she sat down what a mistake this was. Judging by the way he regarded her with sexy, suggestive eyes, he had the wrong idea about why she had joined him. Sort of wrong, anyway.
She wasn’t about to engage with him in hot, mindless sex tonight. Even though, despite all her qualms, the idea ignited her insides, made her wish things were different.
Made her body beg for her mind t
o toss away all rational thought.
But she had come here for a sense of camaraderie with a fellow shifter. Even so, she couldn’t possibly have that with Simon. There were too many complications. She didn’t even dare to hint now that they had such a background in common.
She grasped for a neutral topic, finally deciding on Tilly. But it didn’t stay neutral.
“I’m not sure, but I think she might have sensed some disease in a geriatric patient who came to watch her. He was an accident victim and had apparently undergone no tests for cancer or anything else, but Tilly seemed to catch some underlying smell.” So had Grace, but she wasn’t about to mention that.
“It’ll be interesting to see if the tests reveal anything.”
“Sure will. I know of dogs trained to scent diseases. I’ve sometimes thought—well, certain people might have that capability, too.” Like shapeshifters, at least those who didn’t rein in their abilities out of self-preservation.
“No kidding,” he said. “Interesting possibility, but I don’t know of anything like that.”
He was lying, or at least edging around the truth. He surely smelled disease as much as she did, working in a hospital.
She considered asking him obliquely about what he did pick up around here, scents or sounds that normal but alert nonshifters might also become aware of, but decided against it. She’d already gone about as far as she dared—for now—on that subject.
When they were done eating, Simon looked at her. “Are we friends again?”
She knew what he was asking. Everything inside her wanted to shout a gleeful yes…everything but her mind.
“I don’t think we’re arguing right now, so, yes, we’re friends. But not friends with benefits, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Not now, maybe. But I’m hoping to change that again, Grace. I think you enjoyed the other night as much as I did.”
“The sexy part, yes,” she agreed, smiling at him. “But you hated the rest even more than I did. Anyway, it’s been nice eating with you again. See you tomorrow.”
Ignoring her regret, she left to return to her apartment.
To Grace’s surprise, Drew Connell did call her back that night. “How’s Melanie?” she asked right away.
“We’re now the proud parents of a beautiful little girl. Emily. She’s bound to be a shifter like her dad, and her mom says she’s thrilled about it.”
“Congratulations to all of you!”
“Now tell me what you wanted to discuss.”
It seemed a little anticlimactic after his news, but Grace told him about Tilly and her possible scenting of illness in a patient.
“Did you try to confirm it with your own senses, Grace?” Drew’s voice was wry.
“Yes, and she was right. I smelled a scent of illness, too, when I approached the man. It’s interesting how many smells there are in a hospital setting—cleaners, the meds and narcotics used by the PTSD patients, the odor of the shigellosis epidemic…”
“You were warned to control your canine senses as much as possible there, Grace. Those of us who’re doctors mostly work in small practices, or in labs like we do at Alpha Force. The additional smells and sounds can be pretty overwhelming if you let them.”
“I know. But I’m still a doctor as well as an Alpha Force operative. I intend to help people.”
“That’s fine, as long as you don’t do it at the expense of our mission—or yourself.”
A long while after dinner with Grace, Simon returned downstairs to the lab he had virtually commandeered as his own—not that anyone had officially approved of it. Or even really knew about it.
When there earlier that evening, he had hidden the pills he was working on, as always, more or less in plain sight. Now, he unlocked the deep drawer among the many cabinets in this room that comprised its elongated lab stations. Wearing disposable latex gloves and a sanitary lab jacket, he pulled the bottles containing his special pills from among the preparations he did discuss with others—the homeopathic healing formulations he was working on to help his infectious-disease patients regain their strength.
His shifting formula had worked well that evening, but not perfectly. As usual, he had felt light-headed after changing back to human form. Consequently, he still hadn’t reached the degree of success he sought, and with all that had occurred on the night of his last shift he had not had much opportunity to return here and work on it.
Maybe he should thank Grace for declining his invitation for another night of nonstop sex. He snorted to himself. No, thanking her for that wasn’t on his agenda. No matter how eager he was to get his pills to work perfectly, a delay to accommodate making love with Grace would be worth it.
The smell here of antiseptic solutions used to clean the counters frequently, as well as the gleaming gray-patterned linoleum floor, was nearly overwhelming, as always. He figured that even people without an improved sense of smell would find it miserable. But he accepted its necessity.
Now Simon booted up the mini notebook computer he had brought along and typed in his password. The way he entered data about his supplements and other creations, no one but he could interpret them anyway, but he took no chances. He had already determined what tweaks he would perform to his shifting formulation but wanted to double-check it before he gave it a try.
What would Grace think if she knew what he was really doing here?
Why had she stopped teasing him about whether he could be a werewolf? Had she been serious the other day in her extreme hinting that she now knew he was one?
He hoped not. He might be damned attracted to her, but her knowing for certain what he was could only cause a lot of complications.
He suddenly stopped typing as some of what Grace had said before carved a curious thought into his brain, one that nagged at him. She had indicated that Tilly, trained as a service dog to entertain hospital patients, might have smelled something more serious in an accident patient. She had suggested that certain people might have the same abilities. Was this a prod at him, more subtle than in the old days, suggesting that shapeshifters might have that ability?
Simon did, in fact, often sense previously undiagnosed diseases in hospital patients. He then had to find a way to discreetly ensure that the patient underwent appropriate testing.
He was almost always correct.
Did Grace have that ability? The fact that she no longer hinted that she might be a shifter made him more suspicious that she was one.
Not that it mattered. Not really. He had too much to hide from her to play games with her, no matter what rules she seemed to be imposing these days.
“Too bad, Grace,” he muttered aloud. He would love to believe they’d get together again soon, and often, for sex.
But for his self-preservation, even if she suddenly became interested again, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Dr. Andreas? This is Lotty Gail. I’m the head nurse on duty at the Charles Carder E.R. tonight.”
Grace was in bed at her quarters on the air-force base. She had been lying there for what felt like hours, her mind too keyed up to allow her to sleep. “Yes, Lotty?”
“Sorry to bother you so late when you’re not on call, but we’ve got some emergency cases that just came in. We’re drawing blood for tests, but the problem seems to be some kind of infection. There are four patients, and all we have here at the moment is one resident. Could you—”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Simon received the call on his cell phone while he was finally walking home to his apartment that night. He turned back toward the hospital immediately.
As he reached the door to the E.R., he saw Grace approaching through the parking lot. “Do you know what’s happening?” she asked.
“Only that there’s some kind of outbreak.” He held the door open for her, and she hurried in, her silver-blond hair shining beneath the artificial hospital lights. Her determination and dedication appealed to him. Hell, everything about her appealed
to him—when their topics of conversation didn’t hint of shapeshifting.
Lotty Gail, the nurse in charge that night, rushed toward them, looking harried. She was a small, middleaged woman with whom Simon had worked in the E.R. before. She always seemed a little nervous, but her competence was unwavering.
“You’re the doctors and have to make the final diagnosis,” she said, “but the patients are all in one family that went camping and came back with this. They have rashes and other symptoms that look to me like the outbreak of Rocky Mountain spotted fever back in 2004. The mother did say she was grossed out when they found ticks in their sleeping bags.”
“Sounds possible,” Grace said, and Simon agreed.
They both went immediately to the clean room, where they donned sterile clothing, disposable gloves and face masks. Then they divided up who would see which patients. Simon got the father and older son, and Grace got the mother and younger son.
The E.R. resident was in the cubicle with the father when Simon arrived. While keeping up cheerful banter with the patient, the resident conveyed to Simon what tests he’d taken and the man’s vital signs, and Simon checked the chart that had been started.
He then went to consult with Grace. The nurse’s preliminary diagnosis appeared potentially correct. They would not wait until test results were back, but would begin treating these patients with appropriate antibiotics immediately.
Simon couldn’t help wondering what would happen to the blood and other fluid samples taken from the patients after they were tested. Would they become yet another target for the thieves?
Rocky Mountain spotted fever might not present as much of a risk as an extreme strain of shigellosis as the basis for a biological weapon, since it could be treated more easily. But that hadn’t stopped the thieves before. The fact that it was passed along by ticks might stop them, though—if the thieves knew that.
In any event, the disease rated a biohazard level 3, so that might make it attractive to whomever was stealing samples here.
Guardian Wolf Page 10
