Special Agent Nanny

by Linda O. Johnston

  Only when he was inside and had closed the flimsy plywood door—completely this time—did he turn on his flashlight.

  He didn’t honestly believe he could discover anything in the emptied room, in the dead of night, that the Fire Investigation Bureau hadn’t already determined.

  Still, he had to look, at a time when the lovely Dr. Kelley Stanton wouldn’t burst in on him again.

  She’d certainly been inquisitive today. Had he somehow blown his cover with her? If so, his assignment could still be salvageable. The direct approach might even work better with the intelligent lady doctor. Hi, me arson investigator. You…arsonist? Well, maybe not.

  In any event, he looked forward to joining Jenny and her this weekend. It would be another avenue for studying his prey. Learning everything about his chief suspect.

  The woman was frustrating him in more ways than one, damn it. He needed answers. He needed this case to be over.

  He needed a brain transplant. Or at least a cold shower.

  Right now, though, he had to absorb all the impressions he could, in this room where arson had wreaked destruction.

  “Okay, Jameson,” he whispered into the dimness. “Do your stuff.”

  First, he took a deep breath. The place still smelled lousy, like smoke and burnt things.

  According to the report Colleen had obtained from the Denver Fire Department, they had received a 9-1-1 call around seven in the evening, from Dr. Kelley Stanton. That she called in the report did not, of course, preclude her from being the arsonist.

  The firefighters had responded within ten minutes. Their primary concern was to protect life, so their first order of business was to ensure that no one remained in that wing of the building. Next step was to extinguish the fire. Fortunately, they’d done so before total evacuation was necessary.

  Extinguish it? Yeah, with their equipment. Most of Gilpin was relatively new, constructed of code-compliant fire retardant materials and sprinklered. But the admin wing was the oldest part, the original hospital. Because there were no patient rooms here, the requirements might not have been enforced as stringently.

  Shawn swung his light up toward the ceiling. A single sprinkler head, near a corner. Not enough to protect much more than one file cabinet. Certainly not enough for the entire room.

  Next, he swung his light toward the floor. The burn pattern analysis in the report indicated that the fire had started in the center of the room. The floor was definitely blackened in the middle. As he moved the beam to the edges, not everything appeared as charred.

  Fires that began in the middle of the room were unlikely to be electrical fires. Just in case, he used the flashlight beam to seek out what remained of the recessed ceiling lights. Most were still there, but their glass covers were either shattered or gone. He looked at the electrical outlets in the walls. One wall, the outer one, was now just plywood sheets, so that didn’t help. Another wall was nearly decimated. The other two still stood, despite being charred. And, yes, they each had a couple of low-set electrical outlets, all intact.

  The report indicated that the steel file cabinets had nearly melted. Hard to tell if their drawers had opened as the steel grew hot—or if they had been open before.

  The speculation now was that the fire had been set in a couple of strategically opened drawers. That an accelerant was used. Lighter fluid.

  Traces of tobacco had been found, as well as a cigarette lighter. As if the fire had been set by a careless smoker. That was why the initial take was that the fire had been an accident. Until the investigators looked more closely.

  Kelley didn’t smoke. But an arsonist didn’t have to.

  Cigarette lighters were small enough to fit in a man’s pocket. Or a woman’s purse.

  Damn! Despite what he’d been told, Shawn didn’t want Kelley to be the arsonist. She was a loving mother. A doctor who wanted to save lives, not put them at risk.

  Or was that simply his fantasy?

  She was suspected of medical malpractice. Cheryl Marten had even proclaimed that Kelley had been thrown off a case just the day before.

  If she’d been negligent, why not hide the evidence in any way she could—like burning it up in a fire?

  Growling, he continued his survey of the room. Quickly, but thoroughly. He needed to get the hell out of here.

  More than that, he needed to continue to investigate. Ask questions. Interview witnesses without raising suspicions.

  He had to expose the damned arsonist, whoever it was.

  And if, in the end, Kelley was the guilty party?

  Even when nobody was injured, no one should get away with setting fires.

  KELLEY PULLED HER CAR into the Gilpin Hospital parking lot.

  This wasn’t how she had anticipated spending Saturday afternoon.

  Not that she had wanted to take Shawn up on his offer to go see the latest blockbuster animated movie with Jenny. They’d made arrangements, but Kelley had had to call to cancel. Fortunately.

  “Who are you kidding?” she grumbled to herself as she parked and grabbed her purse.

  Her digital pager had beeped her a short while earlier with the emergency signal, and she had responded quickly. She was needed at the hospital, stat. Since it hadn’t been a cardiac emergency, Randall was at home, so she’d dropped Jenny off.

  She ran into the emergency room. Dotty Bailey, a long-time E.R. nurse, saw her and beckoned. She had been the one to call Kelley. “Fourth room,” she said, a worried look on her face. “Looks bad. And—”

  Kelley hesitated just a moment. “And what?”

  “The resident on call treated her, but there’s no improvement. I’m sure he did all he could, but Heather—the patient—is one of my neighbor’s kids. Just graduated from college, has her whole life ahead… I want to make sure everything possible is being done. She’s Dr. Younger’s patient. I paged her, but she didn’t respond, so I beeped you. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” But inside Kelley sighed. She didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes, particularly not Madelyne’s. On the other hand, if she could help, then of course she would. “I’ll go see her.” Kelley tossed a smile at the older woman, who nodded. At least someone here hadn’t been swayed by the rumors of Kelley’s incompetence.

  Or maybe it was Dotty’s concern over this particular patient that made her take a chance…. No matter. Kelley would do all she could—as always.

  Hurrying into the evaluation room, Kelley quickly realized the nurse hadn’t overstated the situation. It did look bad.

  The patient was a young lady, early twenties. Her face, beneath oily brown hair, was flushed from fever, and her eyes were glazed. Her arms lay limp on the white sheet, and Kelley noticed the red bumps covering them. What had caused the rash?

  “Hi, Heather.” Kelley flipped over a page on her clipboard to a fresh chart. “I’m Dr. Stanton, and I’m going to help you feel better.”

  The girl’s thin lips twitched as if it were too much effort to smile.

  “I don’t have your information yet.” A partial lie, for Heather Harrell’s records were in a holder on the door, but Kelley wanted to start fresh. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Okay. I have mono.”

  “Mononucleosis?” Kelley repeated.

  A slight nod. “I was feeling awful a couple of days ago. Tired, headache, a fever. I just graduated from the University of Colorado and moved back home while I look for a job, and my mom took me to Dr. Younger.”

  “Good choice,” Kelley said. “And she diagnosed you with mono?”

  Another brief nod. “She said I’d kissed too many boys.” This time, the weak smile lightened her whole face, and Kelley realized the girl was probably pretty when not feeling awful.

  “Yes, mono can be spread by fluids like saliva.” Kelley smiled back.

  “But she also said I’d just have to ride it out, that there’s nothing that can be done to fix mono, only rest and treat its symptoms. So I stayed in bed, but my headache got
worse, so my mom got me a stronger pain medication.”

  “And what was that?”

  Kelley wrote down the name of the common over-the-counter analgesic.

  “And then this happened.” Heather pointed to the rash that covered her arms. “Mom brought me to the emergency room, and they told me it was an allergic reaction. They gave me a shot, but…well, I still feel awful.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Kelley’s mind raced. If the usual antiallergen shot hadn’t helped, then maybe it wasn’t an allergic reaction after all. Could Heather’s illness be something other than mono?

  “So you just graduated. Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “Kind of. But he’s fine. I checked with him.” She sighed. “By cell phone. He’s up in the mountains, like I want to be. Again. Still.”

  That got Kelley’s attention. “Still? Were you up in the mountains recently?”

  Heather nodded. “My boyfriend and I did a term paper together on some ecological issues that we had to research. We’re both majoring in zoology, and I’ve already been accepted to veterinary school next fall.”

  “I see.” Questions swirled in Kelley’s head.

  “Well, hello!”

  Startled, Kelley turned to see Dr. Madelyne Younger stride into the room. She was dressed in one of her signature purple lab coats, and she carried a chart.

  “So, Heather, you’ve gotten into more trouble?” she asked.

  “Guess so, Dr. Younger.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Stanton,” Madelyne said. “The staff found me, so I’ll take my patient back now.” She turned back toward Heather. “Now, didn’t I tell you to stop kissing all the guys?”

  With a sinking heart, Kelley wondered if Madelyne was going to stick by her original diagnosis.

  “Heather has a rash, Dr. Younger,” Kelley said. “She—”

  “Right. An allergic reaction, right, kiddo?” She sat on the edge of Heather’s bed and began her examination. When she had finished, she turned and appeared startled to see Kelley still standing there.

  Her expression turned grim for an instant. “We’re fine now,” she said to Kelley. “Thanks.”

  Kelley knew she was being dismissed. She also knew that Madelyne’s diagnosis of mono just might be wrong.

  And she suspected she knew what Heather really had—something rare. Something dangerous. Of course, she could be mistaken. And if she were, it would only add to her being discredited here…

  If she were right, she could save Heather’s life.

  “Dr. Younger, may I borrow you for a minute?” Kelley asked.

  Madelyne did not look pleased, but she agreed.

  Outside in the hall, Kelley saw Dotty hovering. She would have to be careful how she phrased things. She certainly didn’t want to criticize her colleague, but her first charge was to help the patient.

  The accordion of wrinkles at the edges of Madelyne’s eyes had deepened, and without lipstick, her lips appeared pale and drawn.

  “I don’t want to butt in, Madelyne,” Kelley said earnestly. And she didn’t. Even though Madelyne had been butting in a lot on her cases lately… Kelley banished the uncharitable thought. It wasn’t Madelyne’s fault that patients heard unfounded rumors and asked that Kelley be removed.

  “Then don’t, kiddo. We’re getting along fine.”

  “Good. But did you know Heather was on a hike last week?”

  “Not really, but why—”

  “But you had a monospot test taken, didn’t you?”

  “Sure.” Madelyne looked affronted. That was one standard way to diagnose mononucleosis.

  “Then no problem. Her blood test was positive for Epstein-Barr or cytomegalovirus antibodies?” Both were indicative of mono.

  “She came in early after the symptoms developed. I’ll order another test now, of course.”

  Which meant that the prior test had been negative for mono antibodies. And Kelley suspected that this one would be, too.

  “I just had a thought. Why don’t you have her blood checked for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, while you’re at it?”

  “Why would you think that?” Madelyne retorted, yet her eyes turned thoughtful.

  “Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever?” Dotty had joined them. Kelley sighed inside. It was bad enough if she was wrong and made a fool of herself to Madelyne. But now her folly would spread with the rest of the rumors about her.

  If she was wrong.

  If she wasn’t…

  “Just because we live in the Rocky Mountains doesn’t mean—” Madelyne began, her words instructional but her tone edgy.

  “I know,” Kelley interrupted. “The disease was first identified here, but it mostly occurs in the east. It’s rare. But there are a few cases here each year. And Heather was hiking in the woods. She might have been bitten by a tick. I didn’t get a chance to ask her, but—”

  “All right. I’ll ask. And I’ll check for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever.”

  Kelley chose not to explain that her father, a general practitioner, had had a patient nearly die from Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever when she worked in his office as a receptionist during her high school summer breaks.

  Her father hadn’t been much on bedside manner, even with his own family. In fact, the only reason he had permitted Kelley to work there that summer was to show her the miserable and mundane side of the practice of medicine, to nip in the bud her idealism and growing ambition to become a doctor herself.

  It hadn’t worked, to his fury.

  But despite his antiquated ideas about a woman’s role, his tyrannical behavior to family and patients alike, he had been an excellent doctor.

  He’d saved that patient’s life.

  And Kelley, while in medical school, had read all she could about Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever and other diseases caused by similar kinds of microbes to rickettsia, which was not a virus but some sources considered to be a bacterium. She hadn’t seen another case of this disease—until, possibly, now.

  If she was right and Heather was left untreated, she could suffer severe kidney failure. Even shock. And death.

  A while later, Kelley learned that the blood test had been positive for RMSF. Heather was given appropriate antibiotics, and began to improve almost immediately.

  And she did admit to Dr. Younger that she had burned a tick from her arm while hiking with her boyfriend a week earlier.

  At last, Kelley felt vindicated. She was a good doctor. But what was more important, she knew that she had saved a life.

  “CONGRATULATIONS, Dr. Stanton,” said Juan Cortes. The janitor shoved the mop he had been holding into the bucket in the open door to the men’s room that he was obviously cleaning.

  “For what?” Kelley asked. It was Monday morning, and, medical bag in hand, she was on her way through the admin wing to peek in on Jenny at the childcare center. Randall had had their daughter on Sunday, too, though he hadn’t been scheduled to. He’d done Kelley the favor of watching Jenny at the last minute, so she didn’t deny his request to keep her longer. Now, she wanted to see Jenny before getting to work.

  Juan leaned against the hallway wall. His toothy grin raised the edges of his dark mustache. “You haven’t heard? It’s all over, how you figured out what was really wrong with that young lady on Saturday.”

  This place was like a small town, Kelley thought. Everyone knew everything about everybody else. “No kidding? Well, I’m just glad she’s doing better.” She had come in to check on Heather on Sunday and had found her sitting up in bed eating. That had been the best reward she could imagine. But she didn’t mind if people heard she’d succeeded. Maybe the rumor mills would find someone else to pick on. Better yet, maybe they’d shut up.

  “I’m glad, too,” the janitor said. “And in your honor, I brought some cream-filled doughnuts today. They are in KidClub, as usual, but I didn’t slice them up for the kids.”

  “Thanks, Juan.” Kelley hadn’t the heart to tell the kind man that neither her tastebuds nor her waistline were fond of cream-
filled doughnuts. She’d have to cut off a small piece of one and eat it. That way, she could tell Juan how much she’d enjoyed it without fibbing much.

  When she reached KidClub, she hesitated at the door to drink in the sight. Brawny Shawn Jameson had somehow shoehorned himself again into a seat at the small, kiddy-size table. He was surrounded by children who stared in awe over his arms and shoulders as he drew something. Jenny, beside him, pointed at something on his paper and chattered, as usual these days, about “an’mals.”

  As if he sensed her, he looked up. His eyes met Kelley’s. From this distance, she couldn’t make out his expression, yet it somehow seemed intense. She felt a flush rise without knowing why. “Jenny, look who’s here,” he said.

  “Mommy!” Her daughter rose and flung herself into Kelley’s arms. She hugged the small form and kissed Jenny’s clean-smelling blond hair. “I missed you, Mommy,” Jenny said.

  “I missed you, too, honey.”

  “I know you had to go help someone so we couldn’t see the movie, but Daddy took me. Cheryl, too.”

  “Oh.” Kelley told herself it was just as well, that she shouldn’t feel disappointed, but she did. But there would be other movies she could take Jenny to. And as to the other complications surrounding that particular animated film—

  Shawn had extracted himself from his throng of young fans. “I’m glad you got to go, Jenny,” he said. “Wish I could have gone, too.”

  Again his gaze met Kelley’s. This time she was close enough to see the glint of irony in his sparkling blue eyes. And something else she couldn’t put a name to. Didn’t want to put a name to. If it was the same kind of lust that she had begun to feel for him, she didn’t want to know. It would simply go to waste.

  “Mommy didn’t get to see the movie, either, Shawn.” Consternation knit Jenny’s small brow. Clutching Kelley’s hand, she looked up at Shawn. And then her worry turned into a smile. “I know. You and Mommy can go to the movie together.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Shawn said with a lazy smile that made Kelley’s heart pump double-time. “Maybe Mommy and I can do something together like that.”

  “Er… We’ll think about it,” Kelley said, knowing that she really would think about it, more than she should. “I have to go to work now.” She fled the childcare center, grabbing a small piece of cream-filled doughnut first, and started on rounds.