by Debra Webb
“And after you retire?”
“You won’t be forgotten. My replacement will be fully briefed on your ongoing mission.”
“Guess I’d better pack and tell my landlord I’m out.”
“Take another minute,” Casey cautioned. “This is a serious, permanent commitment that will last far beyond Dr. Palmer’s project. I won’t think any less of you if you turn it down.”
David wanted to accept the post immediately. Instead, he took the director’s advice and stood and crossed the well-appointed office to the window. He shoved his hands into his pockets and just soaked up the view. Several stories below, beyond a heavy tree line, the cityscape sparkled on the horizon. “I won’t be mopping floors?” he asked without turning.
Casey chuckled. “No. We’re working you into the human resources department.”
David absorbed that detail, though he’d made his decision when the director mentioned Charleston. He hadn’t been there in years, but he had fond memories. His biggest concern was whether or not he could handle the routine of a nine-to-five job. He’d started working at the age of eleven mowing yards and washing cars. When he’d learned to scuba dive he’d worked his way through high school and college leading dive tours and helping with rescues. The closest he’d come to a normal job had been his time with the Coast Guard. There had been daily routines and drills, but the work had never been static or boring.
It was Charleston, he thought, shifting his focus. The day job wasn’t the point; it was the cover. Between the real mission and the area in general, if the day job dragged there would always be something to keep him busy after hours. He turned around, walked back to Casey’s desk and eyed the closed folder. “I’m in.”
Casey stood and reached across the desk to shake David’s hand. “Thank you for your service,” he said, his tone grave.
The director’s demeanor was a bit unnerving. Thomas Casey always maintained a serious calm during a briefing. Either the job or this particular assignment rested heavier than most across his shoulders.
“Head down to the equipment room and they’ll get you set for an immediate transition.”
David said goodbye and walked out, wondering when he’d see the director or the team offices again. He didn’t know much about human resources, though he could learn. Getting up to speed on a desk job would be much faster than posing as a medical tech or expert. His boss wanted him in Charleston sooner rather than later to protect the project. Looking at the surface details on this doctor, the nurse and the missing brother, David knew some sort of serious adventure was guaranteed.
And that was just the type of work he thrived on.
Chapter Two
Charleston, South Carolina
Tuesday, December 10, 6:55 a.m.
At the nurses station in the center of the pediatric orthopedic ward, Terri Barnhart reviewed patient charts as she prepared to take over the day shift. She’d been moved up here last month, and most days they had more trouble with anxious parents than the patients themselves.
“Room 412 needs a warning label,” her friend Suzette said quietly, looking over her shoulder. “The girl cried when MaryAnn took her vitals.”
Terri quickly scrolled through the patient’s record. Ten years old, the girl was recovering from her second surgery on a broken leg. “Wow,” Terri whispered. “She’s afraid of everything, isn’t she?”
Suzette nodded. “Just about the worst case of hospital phobia I’ve seen. Her mom’s a dream, but exhausted. We tried everything last night. Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll sleep through your shift.”
Terri shared a quiet laugh with Suzette. “I’ll let you know if I figure her out.” She was known around the hospital for her ability to cope with more difficult patients. She considered it a by-product of helping her brother recover from the car accident that killed their parents, grateful something good had come out of that tragedy.
Thinking of Trey sobered her. She hadn’t heard from him for three months now. What had been an all-consuming worry when she found out he’d dropped out of college became tangled with a little more anger every day. The police were certain he’d just gone off on his own, but if that was true, why hadn’t he contacted her?
They’d been close as kids, through school and sports, right up to the day of her pinning ceremony when she graduated from the nursing program four years ago. Trey and their parents had been on their way to the auditorium eager to celebrate her success. A dump truck swerved into their lane and hit them head-on. Her parents died at the scene, and her brother had been plunged into the fight of his life.
His extensive injuries had ended his plans to play college baseball. Several surgeries, months of physical therapy and hours of grief counseling had finally put him back together. Or so she’d thought as he eventually changed his career goals and applied to college.
She couldn’t reconcile Trey’s effort and determination to attend school in Arizona with him willingly leaving it all behind scarcely a month after arriving there. If the police in Flagstaff sympathized with her, it didn’t motivate them to make his disappearance a priority.
Thanksgiving had come and gone without a word from her brother, and Christmas was closing in. If he was alive and well—and she had to believe that—he would make contact. He had to know she would be worried about him, that she’d need some reassurance especially during the holidays. She trembled as another terrible image of him injured or worse filled her mind.
“Honey, are you okay?” Suzette asked, waving her hand in front of Terri’s face.
“I’m great.” Terri pasted a bright smile on her face. “Just waiting for the second cup of coffee to kick in.”
“Right.” Suzette stretched out the single word. “Still no word from him?”
As her best friend, Suzette was one of the few people who knew the whole situation about Trey. Suzette had helped her sort out the insurance, funeral arrangements and expenses after the accident. She’d listened to the doctors’ reports and helped her make the decisions Trey would have to live with. Suzette had sat by Trey’s bedside, taking over when Terri had been too sleep deprived to continue.
“No,” Terri admitted. “You’ll be happy to know I’m counting by the week now rather than the day or hour.”
“I suppose that’s progress,” Suzette said. “If you need to vent, you know I’ll listen.”
Terri took a deep breath and looped her stethoscope around her neck. “I’m grateful, believe me, but I can’t tell you how nice it is to have other people to think about for the next eight to ten hours.”
Suzette’s smile turned edgy. “Promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“When he comes home—and I believe he will—I get first crack at whipping his butt.”
A smile, the first genuine one in a while, tugged at the corners of Terri’s mouth. “Right after me.”
“Just as long as I get to watch,” Suzette declared.
As Suzette started for the elevator, Terri promised to call her later and then headed for room 412. Her first order of business on every shift was to introduce herself to her patients. In orthopedics, the majority of their patients were simply here for observation after surgery. The post-op process was more about managing pain and mobility than anything else. And fear, she thought, easing open the door of 412, temporary home to the young and frightened Brittney Markwald. The girl’s mother had pulled a chair close to the bed and was reading from a thick book.
Terri smiled, recognizing the popular story, but as soon as Brittney saw her, she stared to cry. Terri stopped and tucked her hands into her pockets. “Good morning. I’m Terri, your nurse for today.” She focused on the mother. “Mrs. Markwald, I’ve reviewed the chart and everything looks great. The doctor should be in to see you before noon.”
“Will he send us home?”
“I can’t give you a definite answer on that, but as soon as I know something, you will, too.” She looked at Brittney but didn’t come any clo
ser to the bed. “How’re you doing with the crutches today?”
“She’s getting better,” Mrs. Markwald replied when Brittney only sniffled. “We just got back from the bathroom.”
“Great,” Terri said to the mother. “Your doctor will be happy to hear that.” She took care of the things that needed her attention, giving Brittney plenty of space.
“How’s the pain level?” Terri asked from the foot of the bed.
The girl’s lower lip quivered as she shrugged.
Terri had to find a way to crack through the child’s fear. “Can I check the ice in your friend there?” She pointed to the small cooler that circulated ice water through a cuff to keep swelling to a minimum.
The girl shook her head, refusing to make eye contact. Suzette might be onto something with this one.
“I just refilled it,” Mrs. Markwald explained with a weary smile. “My husband had one a few months back after a knee surgery.”
“So you’re a pro.” Terri beamed. “Thanks so much. Be sure to press the button if you need me. I’ll pop in later to take your vitals.”
Sniffles from the bed accompanied the mother’s thank-you as Terri left the room. Phobic patients like Brittney weren’t unusual on this floor, but Terri never stopped trying to make a hospital stay as pleasant as possible for everyone. Stress didn’t help the healing process.
After introducing herself to her other patients, she caught one of the nursing techs on the floor for help moving a few things around in the lounge. It was a long shot, but she’d made it her mission for the shift to get at least one smile out of Brittney before her doctor sent her home. If nothing else, it might make life easier for a nurse in Brittney’s future.
Terri returned to 412, this time waiting until Mrs. Markwald reached a stopping point in the story. “Breakfast is coming around,” she explained. “You can have it in here or you can really impress the doctors.”
After a moment of visible skepticism, Brittney asked, “How?”
Contact at last, Terri thought with an inner cheer. “You’re doing well enough that you can eat down in the lounge. There’s a video game kart racing challenge and we post high scores on the wall.”
“You mean I don’t have to stay in here?”
Terri nodded. “You can stay in the room if you like. But if you want to go to the lounge, I can have physical therapy meet you there, too.”
Brittney’s momentary excitement faded. “I don’t want more people messing with me.”
“Well, that’s understandable, but you don’t get to go home until they know you can manage the crutches.”
Brittney aimed another sullen expression at her mother.
“It’s a lot more fun, I promise,” Terri added. “Unless you’re tired.”
“I’m not tired,” Brittney declared. “I want to go.”
Brittney cooperated as Terri and her mother helped her get settled in front of one of the lounge gaming stations. When she was engrossed with outfitting her racer, Terri pulled the mother aside. “You can go down to the cafeteria for breakfast and coffee,” she suggested. “I double-checked with the surgeon’s office. He won’t be up for another hour at least.”
“What if—”
“Your daughter will be fine with us. If the surgeon’s schedule changes, I’ll call you.”
The mother’s eyes brightened with relief. “Thank you,” she said, slipping out of her daughter’s sight. “She’s not usually such a handful. They did their best last night, but...”
“She’s upset and scared. Happens to all of us at some point.” Terri had been blessed with good health, but she understood the fears and questions that plagued her patients. “We’ll get you through this as a team.”
With Brittney happily distracted, Terri moved on through her shift, tending to patient calls and overseeing discharge orders. The hours sped by and her rumbling stomach cued her in that she needed to eat and she headed downstairs to the cafeteria. Normally, she brought lunch from home, but after another restless night full of anxious dreams about her brother she’d overslept. In the subsequent rush to get out the door, she’d left her lunch bag sitting on the kitchen counter.
Reminders from the police and her friends that Trey was officially a legal adult and smart enough to get into college failed to ease her worry over his disappearance. After the first month with no word from him, she’d sought the help of the best private investigator she could afford. Unfortunately, her modest investment only confirmed what his college roommate had told her. Trey had changed almost overnight, going from an outgoing freshman making friends on campus to withdrawn and reclusive until he went out one day and just didn’t return.
Letting him go to college in Arizona had been a mistake, Terri knew that now. It had been too big a leap. His body had been ready, thanks to his hard work through physical therapy, but she never should’ve accepted his claim about his emotional stability at face value. If nothing else, her constant worry was proof she hadn’t been ready to be this far from him.
She loved her friends and her work, but she was lonely without her brother. He was the only family she had left. On move-in day, she’d taken plenty of pictures and, before she left, they’d tossed around ideas for the holiday break between semesters. Now Christmas was only two weeks away, and she didn’t know what she was supposed to do without him.
“Hey, Terri.”
Startled, she glanced up at the sound of her name and then smiled into the rugged, handsome face of David Martin. “Oh. Hey, David.”
He was relatively new at the hospital and he’d made an impression on most of the women with his Georgia accent, that dark hair and those eyes that were more gray than blue. Somehow on him, the pressed khakis, white polo shirt and dark blue fleece jacket embroidered with the MUSC logo looked as though it belonged on the cover of GQ.
She suddenly felt a little silly in her bright, tropical frog scrubs. “How’s your day going?”
“Predictable.” He lifted his tall coffee mug. “I came looking for a shot of caffeine. Reports are due in a couple of hours.” He checked his watch. “Late lunch?” He dipped his chin in the direction of the plastic salad container she held.
“Yeah. The lunch I packed is still sitting at home.”
“Want some company?”
That would be lovely. She always enjoyed talking with him over coffee or lunch. “I wish I could take a few minutes down here,” she said. “There’s a problem child on the ward today and I don’t want to give her any reason to get upset again.”
He grinned, and the tilt of his lips set butterflies loose in her belly. “You applied that famous Nurse Terri charm, didn’t you?”
She laughed. “Of course.” She leaned a little closer, just because she could. “It’s possible this patient’s immune.”
“I don’t believe that for a minute.” He nudged her shoulder. “No one’s immune to that smile.”
Her lips curved even more at the words, and his confidence gave her mood a much-needed boost. “Thanks.”
“We’re still on for tonight, right?”
She nodded. He’d invited her to dinner at a new place on King Street. If she didn’t get back upstairs, she wouldn’t have any time at all to eat. She tried to care, but food seemed far less important than taking a few minutes with an interesting man like David. “I’ll be ready.”
“Great.” He followed her into the elevator and punched the button for her floor.
“What are you doing?” Whenever they did get together over lunch, they parted ways at the elevator.
His dark eyebrows arched. “Walking you back,” he said. “Is that a problem?”
“No.” It was just different. She remembered how the gossip had zipped through the hospital when he joined the staff in October. Handsome as sin was the first gossip that made the circuit. He was athletic and absolutely ripped, according to those who’d spent time in the fitness center with him. But his humor, his humility and the manners proving chivalry wasn’t dead had made
him an instant hit among the women.
So she’d heard of him long before he introduced himself during his second week of work. He’d been in line behind her during a coffee break and they’d hit it off when he’d asked about the best beaches for sea kayaking. In the weeks since, they’d had lunch occasionally and frequently chatted over coffee. They’d even gone on a sea kayak excursion, as well as a couple of evening art showcases at the Market. She’d been careful to keep the social speculation to a minimum and she’d been relieved to hear he was making friends quickly in several departments.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want a social life—she did. She’d just been too consumed with Trey’s disappearance to be good company. Something about sharing coffee or lunch with David was less intimidating than going out on a date or out for drinks with friends. With David, she didn’t feel the pressure to be on. She could just relax and be herself. Of his many positive traits, that one was her favorite, though she couldn’t tell anyone. Not even Suzette. Her friends would read way too much into any positive comments she made about David or any other guy.
Her friends had been setting her up since Trey moved to college in August. The few guys she’d met had been nice, but she’d needed time and space to recharge her personal batteries after spending years dealing with Trey’s physical injuries and challenging fits of temper. Not that she blamed him for acting out as he came to terms with the fact that his dreams and goals were out of reach. As he’d told her repeatedly, he’d suffered the most. They’d both lost their parents, but Terri had her dream job and Trey never would.
Now he was missing and she felt caught in another emotional quagmire, keeping to herself simply so she wouldn’t dump her drama on others. She thought of young Brittney, afraid of practically every element of life since she’d broken her leg. Like a lightning strike, Terri suddenly realized, wallowing in worry wasn’t doing her any more good than it was Brittney. Being available 24/7, afraid to miss a call or text from her brother was a waste of her time. She had to break out of this holding pattern.
