“They want you to get well. You’re very sick with an rotten upper respiratory infection. It’s going to need some heavy-duty medication. ”
Lena tried to say something, but her cough interrupted.
“They should be charged with false imprisonment.” She burst out into laughter that ended with another roll of coughs. “Okay,” she said when she could talk again. “That, I’ve got to admit, was pretty stupid.”
“Yeah,” Gina said. “In the hospital, you’re allowed to be stupid.”
“Probably the last time I’ll get a pass for anything.”
“I’m going to hook up some antibiotics and I’ll bring you something for that rotten cough.”
“That would be great. It’s getting worse and worse.”
Gina gently placed the oxygen cannulas back into her nostrils. “Also, your doctor ordered some respiratory therapy for you, so a therapist will probably be in here pretty soon.”
“What will that do for me?”
“Probably loosen up that cough and let you get rid of the gunk that keeps you hacking. It should make your breathing a lot easier.”
Gina poured water from a plastic pitcher into a tall plastic cup and planted a straw in it. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Why don’t you drink some water or, if you want, I can get you some juice.”
“I think I’ll pass on the juice. That’s what got me here in the first place.”
* * *
In the station, Gina used the computer to open the doctor’s orders. She wanted to double check Brad Rizzo’s treatment for Lena Dobbs.
Satisfied with what she read, she moved into the med room. Jenni walked in as she was gathering a piggy-back med to hook up to Lena’s IV, plus the rest of the ordered medications, most of which were for her cough.
“I saw you talking to Dr. Good Looking.”
“Cut it out, Jenni. We’re just friends. We were conferring about his patient, who was just admitted to the unit.”
“Yeah, I saw. Another damn flu case.”
“She’s pretty sick, but she’s young; this bug seems to be killing mostly older people,” Gina said. “Still, she has the ugliest cough you’ve ever heard. She must have a ton of goop in her lungs.”
“Did she have a flu shot?”
“I checked that out in her history and saw she had been vaccinated. Why?”
Jenni tugged at a loose strand of hair. “I’m really paranoid these days ... and who would know that better than you? But I swear the CDC is messing in some way with the flu vaccines.”
Gina laughed. “It would be an effective way to cut down the population.”
“I don’t really know what they’re doing, and it’s probably better I don’t know, or I’d be on someone’s hit list.” Jenni rolled her eyes. “Oh, wait. I’m on Russell’s hit list ... you suppose he works for the CDC?”
“Jenni, you’re beginning to sound as nutty as me,” Gina said. “Harry says that’s what I do to people.”
“What, make them crazy?”
“You got it.”
As Gina walked down the hall, she thought about Harry. It was now six weeks since he left for the wilds of Tucson. Normally, he would be returning from his assignment about now. But he’d said he was signing on for another hitch at the same facility. That is, unless she asked him to come back. They both knew what that meant.
After being together for four years, Gina knew what Harry was thinking―it was now or never. She could either back away and move on, or marry him and ruin his life.
It was time.
Time to stop thinking about Harry. Time to stop working and reworking all the useless scenarios that ended up with her being without Harry.
Gina felt like she was choking. Would she ever be rid of that ache in her heart when she thought of him?
She waited a moment to pull herself together before walking into room 114. When she moved through the doorway, Russell was standing by Lena Dobbs’ bed.
Chapter 19
Aaron Dobbs had been feeling run down for the past twenty four hours. But he kept it to himself. He hadn’t wanted to worry his wife when she was already on overdrive about their daughter, Lena.
When Brad Rizzo suggested hospitalizing Lena, Barbara and Aaron Dobbs were right on board. Anyone who knew their daughter was aware of her driving ambition, knew she would keep going until she dropped―which is exactly what she’d done.
After Lena’s admission to Ridgewood, they drove back to their office. Aaron’s eyes were so heavy he had almost fallen asleep at the wheel and he was grateful when they arrived in one piece.
“Hey, Barb, I’m going to go lie down in the back room for a while.”
“Sure.” She squeezed his arm. “Are you all right?”
“Fine, fine. It’s this whole thing with Lena, you know. I’m worried, same as you.”
He could see she was unconvinced, but he took her in his arms. “Maybe when you get caught up, you could join me back there for a quickie.”
“Oh, go on, Aaron. Someone has to be responsible in this practice.”
He was smiling when he walked down the hall past their two compact offices, each decorated to reflect the personality of the Dobbs who used it.
Barbara’s had an overstuffed leather chair for clients, a solid oak desk, and three walls of bookshelves with essays and philosophical discourses about the law.
Aaron was the modernist, with a glass-and-chrome desk, Eames chairs, and a wall of books similar to his wife’s collection.
In the back storage room—never used for storage of any kind—Aaron took off his shoes and pants and crawled into the double bed, the sole piece of furniture in their flake-out room.
The place felt cold—he shivered a couple of times, then wrapped himself in a blanket.
His chest was tight and he was having some trouble breathing. But he closed his eyes and let his mind drift. Right before he fell asleep, his thoughts drifted back to his daughter. He wondered if he might have picked up her bug.
* * *
“Are you all right, Aaron?”
He heard the voice from far away. It was like he was in a deep hole, so deep he couldn’t see out.
He tried to ignore the babble of words and go back to sleep, but the voice kept nagging, over and over and over.
Then once more, louder, “Aaron!”
He turned, saw it was Barbara tugging at his sleeve.
“I went to the hospital to see Lena,” she said. “You were so out of it, I left you alone.”
“You should have woke me up.” His voice sounded thick, even to him.
“I tried, but you wouldn’t budge.”
“How’s our baby girl?” He tried to sit up but he couldn’t manage it.
“She seems better now that they’ve gotten the antibiotics into her system. But she’s still very ill.”
“Poor thing.”
“At least they’re satisfied the concussion did no real damage; they’ve started to give her medication to make her more comfortable.” She ran a hand across his forehead and leaned over to kiss him.
“Is she still angry with us?”
“You could say that. But the good news is, I’ve spoken to the dean ad have arranged for her to take her finals after she’s well.”
Aaron laughed. “I guess it pays to be contributing alumni.”
“You can bet your booty on that. But it’s also her class work and test scores. She’s a great and gifted student.”
Aaron inched to the edge of the bed and forced himself to sit up, but as soon as he did, he started coughing. He was hurting.
He balled a fist and held it to his chest. “Barbara, I don’t think I can stand.” A frisson shook him; he grabbed the blanket and clutched it to him.
“Aaron, are you having trouble breathing?” She pulled the covers up and around his shoulders. “What’s going on with your chest? Are you in pain?”
“No, love, I’m just tired.” His voice sounded thick and mushy. He tried to speak again but
the words were even more garbled.
“Let me help you lie down. I’m calling 9-1-1.”
Don’t! Don’t! Don’t! It’s only Lena’s bug.
He couldn’t speak and he didn’t resist when she forced him to take two aspirins before she gently pushed him back down again.
* * *
Brad Rizzo was standing over him when Aaron opened his eyes. The doctor turned from him to check the EKG strips.
“Am I going to live?”
“For now. No one gets out alive, you know that.”
“You would remind me, wouldn’t you?”
“Well, at least you can speak again. Barbara said you were having chest pain and couldn’t articulate.”
“Just tired. This thing with Lena has been really stressful.” His words ended in a roll of coughs.
“I hear what you’re saying, but let’s talk about you.” Brad held up the EKG strip. “You’re not having a heart attack. That’s the good news, and by the way, you can give Barbara an extra kiss. Pretty smart of her to give you the aspirin and get you here so quickly.”
“She’s the really smart one. Without her, there’d be no Dobbs law practice.”
“Yeah, I’ll fly with that.”
Aaron eyed Brad. “I hear a ‘but’ waiting in the wings.”
“I just want to get a scan to make sure we’re not missing some kind of vascular event in that hard head of yours.”
“Hey, doc, I just want to go home.”
“And I want you to. But we’ll get the scan, keep you overnight so you can stay in bed and rest.”
“Okay, I’ll admit I’m beat. We’ve been putting in long hours at the office ... but I can go home to rest.”
“Like your daughter, you’d never get any rest at home, and also like your daughter, I think you’re very run down. Your chest sounds congested and I’ll bet my last buck, that you’re coming down with what Lena has.”
“I knew it! And it’s damn unfair.”
“Whoever said life was fair? Lawyers usually know that better than most people.”
Chapter 20
Stop whispering in my ear! Hear me? Stop it!
Russell bolted to a sitting position on his lumpy sofa bed. All night the steel rods and straps had cut into his back—stabbing knives searching for vulnerable soft spots.
His gaze poked into the corners of the room. Then his attention settled on the slit of an opening in the bathroom door.
He brought his knees to his chest, thrust his arms around his shins, and hugged himself. Squeezed tighter and tighter.
“Nonononono!”
Help me! Someone help me! I’m afraid. The bathroom door! Why is it open? I never forget to close it. Never! It’s in there ... in there!
He forced himself to carefully shove the blanket aside, slip out of bed, and tiptoe to the bathroom. He stood there shaking. Pee ran down his leg.
Breathing hard, he flung the door open.
The blackness stared back at him.
“You’re in there! I know you’re there. You’re in there!
In the darkest of the dark ... in the darkest of the dark of night ... that’s where The Presence hides. That’s what his foster dad said, and Russell believed him.
The Presence used to whisper to Todd. Now it wanted to whisper to Russell.
He snapped on the light, saw nothing. A gust brushed his neck.
It whispered as it passed, “Doitdoitdoitdoit!”
Russell balled his fists, pounded at his head until he was dizzy.
“Go away! I don’t want to do it! Leave me alone!”
Silence, then another gust—softer this time.
“Go away! Go!”
Chapter 21
Dominick’s bottle of Vicodin was emptying far too fast. He’d been overdosing with the prescribed pills because the pain wouldn’t ease up, let alone go away.
It was bad, so intense in his neck that he had to constantly wear the collar brace the hospital had given him. It was either that or hold his head up with both hands. And his ribs? Even with them bound, it was tough to breathe deeply without the pain medication.
Damn doctor said it would be at least six weeks before my neck was healed.
Five more weeks of pain? He’d never been too good at handling pain.
Well, he sure as hell wasn’t going back to work for awhile. Just thinking about picking up a shovel or an axe made things worse. Good thing he’d been stashing the dough from his craps winnings for the past year. It had been one long, lucky streak since he left Frisco.
Just starting to get it together.
Had his phony ID; people thought he was a Mex, and he was getting ready to go back to Frisco. Now this new shit comes down on him.
Yeah, well, it’s been worth it to find Gina’s man. That son-of-a-bitch is gonna take the heat for her. And I’ll be damned if he’s gonna get away from me.
Dominick carefully undid the support collar and massaged his neck for a few minutes, tried to relax the muscles.
Fortunately, he’d managed to sweet-talk José, one of the gardening crew, into picking him up from the hospital and bringing him back to his room. He didn’t have much in common with those Mexicans, and they weren’t too keen on him, either.
Had to slip the asshole a twenty. Thank you very much, hombre.
Dominick rubbed his hands together, feeling a little better. The Vicodin was doing its thing, giving him a buzz.
I found the dude. Found that Harry Lucke. Now I’ll track the sucker down, see where he hangs out, then nail him.
Poor little Gina. That bitch can’t seem to hang onto any man.
His mind started drifting, jumping from one thing to another.
Gonna have to get me some wheels ... my truck looks like a kinky accordion about to stand up and run.
That was pretty funny. He laughed hard. That brought him up short. He pressed the flat of his hands against his ribs.
Gotta take it easy ... winner or no winner, gotta let up on the drinking and gambling. If I don’t cut the spendin’ and save more dough, I’ll go bust in no time.
Not much fun hanging out in this two-bit room.
Shit! Gonna find me a woman and buy me some company.
* * *
Harry knew he and Abby had reached dangerous crossroads in their relationship. Neither wanted to talk about what had happened at the Mexican restaurant. He’d read the signals she’d been putting out, knew what was up. He simply wasn’t able, or didn’t want to hook into it.
He thought about how he’d chased her down in the Porsche after she ran out of the restaurant, how he’d gathered her in his arms, felt her body tremble as he tried to calm her sobs.
He’d become a lifeline as she buried her head in his chest, hands touching all of him, nothing held back.
He understood that horrible feeling of desperation, that feeling of wanting someone so badly you could barely breathe.
She’d held onto him with grasping arms, hands that clutched at him while he tried to comfort her. And he wanted to feel the way she did, to love her, need her. He wanted to want her.
But he didn’t want her.
Nothing could erase what he felt for Gina. And that truth, whether he verbalized it or carried it silently within his soul, would never go away. It would eventually drive Abby—or any woman—away from him.
He knew Abby wouldn’t want it that way.
* * *
Dearest Gina,
Please, don’t turn away from me.
I know this whole marriage thing has always been a wedge between us, has always put you off. But I don’t understand why. You’ve tried to explain, said many things that really shouldn’t matter if we love each other. If you can’t have children, that’s not an issue for me. It’s not a reason to keep us apart.
If Dominick is out there looking for you, that’s all the more reason to be together. I know we’ve had our differences during the four years we’ve been a couple, but it’s never been about loving you. I’ll always
love you.
Please! Let me see you. We can work this out.
Yours,
Harry
Harry punched Send and the email was gone, travelling through the ether, on its way to San Francisco. For better or worse.
Chapter 22
Gina knew she looked wasted. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her skin splotchy and dull, and no matter what she tried, whether rinsing her eyes with cold water or camouflaging all the imperfections with makeup, she still looked like she’d been crying all night.
She didn’t want to think about Harry, but couldn’t get him out of her mind.
“What’s going on, Gina? You look like you haven’t slept a wink for days,” Jenni said on the drive to work.
“I didn’t get much sleep. Harry sent me an email last night.”
Waiting at a red light, Gina turned to look at Jenni. “He won’t leave me alone ... let it go. He wants us back together again.”
When the light turned green, she moved ahead, had to work hard to keep her focus on her driving―her agitation made her restless, she had difficulty trying to sit still.
Jenni touched her arm. “Does he even have a chance?”
“No! It’s over! For God’s sake. He has to let it go so we can get on with our lives. This back-and-forth communication by emails and telephone is not helping. If anything, it’s making it worse.”
“The guy loves you and you’ve been a twosome forever. What do you expect?”
“I expect him to move on ... do whatever he needs to do ... leave me alone.”
Gina snagged a parking space very close to the hospital. She checked her watch. “Let’s grab some coffee in the cafeteria. We’re early for a change. Way early.”
* * *
With cups in hand, Gina and Jenni found a vacant table near the window. Before Gina could take a sip, she spotted Vinnie and Helen wending their way to them.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Vinnie said, glaring at Gina.
“Vin, that’s not a good way to start a conversation with your sister,” Helen said as they pulled up a couple of seats they’d snatched from another table. “Here I am, being Mommy Helen with the two of you. Can’t you treat each other with a little civility?”
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