Another victim had a shattered shoulder and was screaming in agony. It wasn’t until they flooded him with morphine that he quieted down enough to work on him.
The x-rays could have been read by an idiot with complete accuracy—the man would be in the OR as soon as the on-call ortho could line up a surgical team.
The third man had a nicked carotid. Someone had been smart enough to put pressure on the wound, but by the time the EMTs got to him, it was all but over. He was immediately put on life support.
Harry guessed that the EEG wouldn’t show much of anything going on past basic survival function, if that. He probably would have been gone already without the ventilator breathing for him.
He was one dead man.
Harry checked the vented man’s hospital ID—Dominick Machado. The name had a familiar ring to it. He scanned the computer, read his history. He’d been in a recent car accident.
Yeah, Harry thought the name was familiar. He saw his nurses’ notes and remembered taking care of him during his hospitalization. It wasn’t that long ago.
What a mess.
By the time Harry left the ICU, his only thought was to dive into his bed and conk out. But he couldn’t help remembering what Vinnie said—if he ever wanted to be with Gina again, he’d have to first straighten out his messed-up life in Tucson.
* * *
Each time he tried to plan his necessary conversation with Abby, he would fall into reminiscing about Gina.
He usually loved his travel assignments, which took him to all parts of the country—an education in itself. Not too long ago, his and Gina’s schedules were in unusual harmony so they were able to accept travel assignments at the same facility.
It had been Gina’s first outing on the travel nurse network—an Alzheimer’s research facility located in remote gold mining country near Virginia City, Nevada.
It was unlike anything he’d ever before gotten involved in, and not in a pleasant way. He had a feeling it might have scared off Gina from ever trying it again.
On the plus side, he found it amazing how medicine and nursing were practiced so differently from state to state, region to region. Sometimes, it was like being in a different world.
It was difficult for smaller towns and less affluent areas to compete with world-class urban hospitals that had state of the art technology.
New and developing technology was a wonder to work with, but Harry liked the challenge of having to think outside the box; it was how he liked to practice nursing. And it was that kind of thinking that often allowed so many small hospitals to give good care.
On this assignment, his whole attitude had changed. All he could think about was how it was keeping him from Gina. He needed to be with her. Needed her. And nothing was going to stop him from going back to San Francisco, going back before he lost her forever.
He stepped outside and took in several deep breaths. His shoulder muscles were bunched into knots and his feet were on fire; it was difficult to appreciate the bright moon and the raucous chirping of crickets.
When he got close to where he was parked, he saw Abby waiting for him, leaning against the driver’s door of the Porsche. Her face lit up as he approached.
“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming out.” She reached out as he drew near, winding an arm through one of his.
He walked her around to the passenger side and opened the door for her. When they hit the highway, the fresh air started to revive him. After about ten minutes of his pushing the car up to 100 mph, she rested a hand on his thigh.
He immediately pulled off the highway onto a long, quiet stretch of roadside desert. The glow from the moon made everything eerie and silent.
“Abby, I’m going back to San Francisco ... and I’m leaving very soon.”
She shifted in her seat and even in the shadows he could see the frown on her face. “But why? I thought you extended your contract for another two weeks.”
“That was a terrible mistake.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You and I have become really good friends over the last six weeks.” Harry’s heart was pounding in his ears. “But I can’t give you what you want.”
He let the words fly. “I don’t love you Abby ... and I know that’s what you’ve been hoping for ... but it’s not going to happen.”
“But why? Tell me why?”
“Abby―”
“―Haven’t I been here for you? What do you want? What do you want from me. I’m a good nurse ... I’m a good person.” She reached over and pounded on his chest and he didn’t try to stop her. “What do you want?”
“I want ... I need ... Gina!” he screamed out into the night. “Do you understand? She’s who I want! If I can’t have her, I don’t want anyone.”
Chapter 47
Gina had to get up—it was time to go to work. But she was in stasis. Her arms and legs didn’t want to move, her head was pounding with the same unbearable headache she’d had since she turned Harry down, pushed him out of her life. Since Jenni’s murder.
Jenni’s gone.
That thought made her stomach turn.
She’d always trusted her instincts, which had saved her butt too many times to ignore, even saved her life a couple of times. Yet she’d never picked up on what Mulzini had dumped in her lap.
All that talk about Jenni having other roommates, that she’d had some kind of fling with Brad.
Why didn’t Jenni tell her about it? And the even bigger question, why didn’t Brad?
She finally dragged herself out of bed. At first her body was so heavy she just hung over the edge of the bed, trying to pull herself together. It took twice as long as usual, but she did manage to get dressed for work and was out the door.
Helen was waiting for her in front of the apartment complex. Gina could see her in the red Prius through the heavy glass entrance door.
She stopped and looked at the mail box—both Harry’s and her name were still posted together. Several times she’d tried to get up the nerve to tear out the old label and replace it with only her name. She had yet to accomplish the small task.
She pushed out the door, made it to the car, and plopped into the passenger seat. “Hurrah, hurrah! I can get the Fiat today. Mulzini called, said he’d had it cleaned up.”
“I didn’t know the police provided that kind of service.”
“They don’t,” Gina said snapping on her seat belt. “They’ll bill me for it, but I don’t care. I couldn’t deal with it any other way.”
Gina knew Helen was studying her. “You don’t look up to snuff, dear girl.”
“I still have this awful headache and I’m not sleeping too well. It’s not only Jenni ... I ... can’t stop thinking about Harry ... sending him away.”
Helen took for her hand. “You know he loves you, would do anything for you.”
“I know. But I need to be strong enough to do the same for him.”
“What on earth are you blathering about, Gina?”
“I can’t let this Dominick threat hang over his head, too.”
Helen pounded on the wheel. “For pity’s sake, will you stop with this Dominick stuff? I’m sick and tired of it. Just the mention of his name makes me want to vomit all over the car.”
Gina didn’t know whether to be angry or sad. “I used to be like you, Helen. I thought if I could survive growing up in the Bronx, I could survive anything.”
Gina’s head kept throbbing. “But after Dominick almost killed me ... something changed inside my head.”
They were silent for a few minutes before Helen said, “My poor Vinnie, and my poor friend. You both deserve some kind of break.”
“Well, at least we’re both still alive,” Gina said, pulling a tissue from her purse.
Helen burst out laughing. “I swear you carry everything in that huge purse. Doesn’t it ever get too heavy?”
“Nope. And for the thousandth time, all the teasing in the world is not going to get me to
give it up.”
“Mmmm, stubborn, like your brother.”
* * *
Before Russell came to work, he’d spent an hour sanding and trying to polish the flawed bones he’d gotten from the morgue tech. But no matter how hard he worked on them, the bones remained porous and crumbly. If anything, they were getting worse.
His foster dad would have told him to throw them away a long time ago, get new bones, just like they did with the deer remains when they would fall apart.
Todd would have dragged Russell out into the forest and made him kill another animal. That way they could also watch it bleed out before they carved their bones.
For some reason, he didn’t want to throw them away. He sanded and sanded, but knew they would never make solid handles for his knives. Still, he kept sanding them and sanding them and sanding them, knowing that they would eventually turn to bone dust.
* * *
The morning Ridgewood on-line bulletin news warned of the continuing reduction in staff. The virulent strain of influenza had cut into the medical staff and all other employees.
More and more untrained volunteers were being brought in to take care of patients that had been admitted before the hospital had been forced to divert all new cases.
The ER was only taking care of the most acute problems: bleeders had the highest priority. There were rumors of using the school gyms to care for all the sick people.
The unit was just as busy as it had been for the past week. People running around, nursing techs taking morning vital signs while the nurses huddled together in the station.
Russell slipped down the corridor while the nurses were crowded together taking morning report. He planned on drawing blood for the lab and had to be careful, stay above suspicion, no matter what.
He was restless but everything had to quiet down before he could drain anyone.
He’d had cut himself twice before he came to work, making long stripes on his thigh. That usually kept him calm, at least for a short time. But it wasn’t working. His stomach was filled with hot coals of frustration. He had to get back into control.
He looked at the last order sheet and recognized one name—Aaron Dobbs.
That was the patient he’d planned on draining when the daughter interfered. He dreaded going into that room again. The daughter might kick up a fuss when she saw him.
He edged his way around a cot in the hallway outside of the Dobbses’ room and walked into the dimly lighted area.
He sucked in a gasp of surprise. The daughter was gone. He could barely make out the form of the father. There were IVs with an antibiotic piggyback up and running.
He looked at his watch.
Should leave it alone.
But the man was moaning softly in his sleep and the smell of sickness and suffering was bouncing off the walls.
Blood was relief. Blood was compassion. Blood meant comfort. Blood meant peace.
Russell set his tray on the bed stand and took out the tubes for lab testing specimens.
He placed a needle in the patient’s arm, filled all the tubes very quickly. Then he pulled out a huge syringe from his tray and set the urinal right next to the bed.
He was quickly back into the rhythm of drawing blood and tossing it into the container. The aroma made Russell dizzy.
In a trance, he filled the syringe over and over, emptying it each time into the urinal. He finally snapped out of it. It was like he’d been sleeping. The urinal was filled almost to the top with Aaron Dobbs’s blood.
He jolted into action: Pulled out the needle, fixed a dressing for his arm and took the container into the bathroom. He carefully emptied it into the toilet and flushed the blood away.
Dobbs was very still when he returned to his side. Russell knew if he didn’t get out of the room right away, he would be trapped.
He grabbed his equipment, his collection tubes, and hurried out of the room.
Chapter 48
Brad Rizzo was grabbing a quick breakfast when he heard his name over the hospital intercom; his pager went off at the same time.
Shit, can’t I even grab something to eat?
It had been that way for the past week. All of his patients were sick or dying from a bug that seemed to have infected all of San Francisco.
For years, he’d educated, pushed, and tried to encourage all of his patients to get the annual flu shot to protect themselves and others in the community from severe illness, or even death.
He’d been very successful—ninety percent of the people in his practice were inoculated and it seemed that was the exact percentage of his patients who were now sick.
What kind of justice is that?
A wrong turn by the CDC and the pharmaceutical companies had put the populace in a whirlwind of physical destruction. He was let down, cheated, and it didn’t seem fair.
He picked up his cell and checked his page. Without any preliminaries, he started in on the person who answered.
“This is Dr. Rizzo. Can’t I even grab a bite to eat? What’s going on?”
“I sorry to bother you, doctor,” the floor clerk said. “But Aaron Dobbs is critical. They’re coding him now.”
Brad almost choked on his toast. He dropped it to his plate. “I’ll be right there.”
* * *
The Code team engulfed Aaron Dobbs’ bed. Gina was the one who had found him nonresponsive when she brought his breakfast tray into the room.
She’d called a Code Blue from his bedside as soon as she saw what had to be done, then immediately began CPR. The team arrived within minutes, but it seemed like hours that she was pumping the patient’s chest. She was exhausted.
They all but shoved her aside as they took over. By the time Brad Rizzo raced into the room, they’d shocked Dobbs three times and were inundating him with the medications.
The teamwork brought Dobbs back. Everyone watched the rapid sinus rhythm displayed on the telemetry over the head of the bed. They looked relieved, breathing sighs of relief. But Aaron Dobbs was still unconscious and he looked like he was in shock.
After the team left, Brad said, “Last time I checked him, he looked like he was doing much better. He’d all but beat the pneumonia. I thought we were winning. What the hell happened?”
“I have no idea. When I walked in he was already in respiratory arrest. It was pure luck I popped in when I did.”
“I’d say he caught a damn lucky break with you calling a Code.”
Brad walked up to the computer near the bed. Gina could see he was bringing up Aaron Dobbs’ lab work. “Everything looks normal here.” He reached over and gently pulled down on the patient’s lower eyelid. “This can’t be right; he’s anemic. Let’s get a stat crit on him.”
She pulled her cell from her pocket, punched in the number. “Yeah, Rod, we need a stat crit on a patient. Can you do it?”
Brad was agitated. He held out his hand and Gina gave him the phone.
“Rod, this is Brad Rizzo. We need that blood value ... and I mean right now.” He handed the phone back to Gina. “Thanks.”
It was awkward when Russell walked in to get the blood for the test. Gina couldn’t stand to look at him. She left the patient’s room to Brad and the lab rat and went back to the station, where she collapsed into a chair.
Her chest was tight, her muscles wasted. Worst of all, she couldn’t get away from the rank smell in the unit.
It smelled like death.
She was so shaken, she barely noticed Brad sit down next to her.
“I’ve got to say it again, he’s lucky you walked in when you did.”
“How is he,” Gina asked.
“You know, I would expect him to be much worse. His crit is low, but his B/P is back to normal, breathing’s good, his chest is clear. The guy’s a high-powered lawyer. Maybe it’s a bleeding ulcer.”
“Could be,” Gina said.
“We’ll do all the tests. He’s alive ... that’s what counts.” He paused, tilted his head to one side, and s
aid, “So, how you doing, Gina Mazzio from the Bronx?”
If he really wanted to know, she couldn’t resist the opportunity to tell him. “Why didn’t you tell me you dated Jenni Webb?”
He turned pale. “There wasn’t much to tell. We went out on a few dates ... that’s all it was.”
“But to say nothing. Why were you both so quiet about it ... telling me would have been the honest thing to do.”
He tapped into the computer and started to write his notes for Aaron Dobbs. He stopped, fingers poised over the keyboard. “That was my fault—I asked Jenni not to say anything.”
Gina could feel her face turning red. “And your reason?”
He took her hand. “I didn’t want to lose you and I knew telling you would complicate things between us.” He gave her a humorless laugh. “See how well that worked out.”
Gina carefully removed her hand from his.
A wave of exhaustion swept over every part of her. She looked at Brad and his handsome face, dimpled smile, and once again realized how good looks were unimportant. What really mattered was being completely honest. How else could you show true respect for another human being?
* * *
Russell forced himself to remain in the lab, do his job, complete his shift, not run away from the department. He would find out soon enough if anyone suspected what he did to the Dobbs patient.
No one came. No one questioned him.
He’d pulled it off again. Everything had worked out perfectly.
With his refined technique, he could go on draining patients forever without anyone suspecting. The relief never lasted—his gut was tightening up again. Tightening in frustration.
Never enough blood.
He left the department around four-thirty. First he went to his locker to pick up his backpack and the rest of his belongings.
He fought the urge to run; he walked with a deliberate, slow pace, his lab coat over his arm. When he got to his truck, he threw everything onto the back seat.
Rod gave him a lot of shit for not leaving the coat in his locker again, but Russell made a point of ignoring any of his manager’s comments about the coat. Today was no exception.
Bone Dus Page 20
