by Jan Coffey
Jennifer glanced at Amelia. “Who would do that? Who would want to hurt her?” The nurse paused. “It’s a little unnerving to think that this person had access to our files…to our building. They had to be inside to leave the prescription and the note at the nurse’s station. If you or Mark weren’t here, they could have walked right in and injected her themselves.”
Sid shook his head. He didn’t want to think how vulnerable Amelia was. Still, he wished he had the answers.
“Mark is working on it. So are Attorney Viera and the police.”
Their conversation was cut short as a gurney came into the room. Sid saw Amelia’s attention immediately focus on the rolling bed and the two men pushing it.
Sid found Jennifer checking the men’s badges. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who was anxious. He, for one, was happy that the local police department was taking what had happened last night seriously enough to offer the escort.
Jennifer lowered the head of the bed and readied Amelia before allowing the two men near her patient. “I’m going to bring over her bag.”
Sid knew of the circumstances which under Amelia arrived at this facility. He looked at her curiously. “Something you put together for her?”
“I didn’t do it alone. Everyone pitched in. Don’t forget, she’s had number of birthday parties over the years and there are gifts that we’ve saved up. Now she’ll finally get to use some of the things and hopefully enjoy them.”
Sid wasn’t going to ask what they were. He was touched, though, by the gesture. Regardless of what the media every now and then presented about substandard care in long-term nursing facilities, he knew there were a hell of a lot of very dedicated people working in them.
Jennifer left the room. Sid double checked the equipment to make sure everything was packed and ready to go for Desmond and Nat. He pulled on his jacket and zipped it up.
He frowned. That sensation was back. There was a nervous fluttering deep in his stomach. He looked over at Amelia.
The two paramedics had the gurney up against her bed. They were getting ready to shift Amelia.
She was staring at Sid—her gaze unwavering. He saw her hand. Her fingers were barely off the sheet, but they were reaching for him.
“They’ve told you that I am coming in the ambulance with her,” he asked one of the men. He moved to the other side of the bed from the gurney.
“No. Nobody said anything about—”
“But that’s fine,” the other one said, finishing his partner’s sentence.
Amelia’s head turned and she continued to keep eye contact with Sid.
“Everything will be fine,” he said to her gently. He took her hand. Her fingers immediately clutched to his, holding tight. He was surprised by her strength.
“We’re ready to move her,” the first paramedic said, looking over at their joined hands.
Sid tried to pull back his hand, but Amelia’s grip was tight.
“She’s nervous,” he told them. “This is probably the first time that she’s left this place in quite a while.”
Both men seemed impatient. They were only interested in getting their job done. No small talk. No friendliness. They hadn’t spoken a word to Amelia. She could as well have been a piece of furniture that they were told to move. Sid was finding himself growing annoyed.
“If you come over this side of the bed we can move her,” the same one spoke.
As he tried to loosen her grip, she struggled to hold on, a stressed noise rising from deep in her throat. He knew it would only be a matter of time before she discovered her voice and found her ability to talk again.
“I’m right here. I’m only going around to the other side.”
She’d been conscious since last night. She’d heard all the conversations going on around her. She knew someone had tried to take her life. But there was nothing she could do to protect herself. She was totally helpless.
Sid felt honored, touched that she’d chosen him as a person to trust. Attorney Viera had told him earlier that he received a call from Kim Brown early this morning. She was flying east today. She planned to go directly to Gaylord Hospital. Viera had mentioned that Kim was suddenly worried about Amelia. The attorney had decided not to mention anything about the threat last night. The mother could learn the facts when she arrived.
Sid wondered if Amelia would remember her mother. And frankly, he was worried what Kim’s plans would be regarding her daughter’s future care.
He was honest enough with himself to admit that he was also concerned about what Kim Brown might think about how attached Sid had become to her daughter. The study was no longer his top priority. The welfare of the patient…okay, Amelia’s welfare now took precedence over everything else…by miles.
He reached over and took her other hand as they hoisted the sheet and shifted her to the gurney.
Amelia’s grip was even tighter than before. She watched only Sid. One of the paramedics started putting the straps around her.
“Can one of you guys hand that bag to me?” he asked. Sid wasn’t going to try to detach himself from her again.
The shoulder bag was handed to him.
“Where’s the ambulance?” he asked.
“In the back of the building,” one of them said brusquely.
They were quick. Amelia was strapped on the bed, and they started pushing her out of the room.
“One of the nurses is getting the patient’s things,” Sid told them.
“She can catch up to us in the parking lot.”
Sid considered ordering them to wait, but considering how upset Amelia seemed to be, there were advantages to getting her moving and settled into the ambulance.
A few of the nurses were gathered in the hall, and words of goodbye and good luck showered on Amelia. Sid told one of them to send Jennifer to the back door.
“You are quite popular,” he told Amelia as they moved quickly through the halls.
She refused to look at anyone else but him.
“There’s nothing to worry about. We’re talking maybe a forty-five minute ride tops.”
Soft sounds left her mouth. She was trying to tell him something. Sid couldn’t make out the words, but it wasn’t long before they’d maneuvered through two sets of doors and emerged out one of the back entrances of the building.
Sid was familiar with this entrance. It was the door they’d used to move in their equipment. A low loading dock of sorts was located right outside the door. Backed up to the building, Sid saw the open doors of the ambulance. Next to it, there was a police car with two officers standing by.
The late October weather was sunny but crisp. A breeze ruffled through dried leaves, sending them up in spirals occasionally and pushed them across the pavement. Sid noticed Amelia take a deep breath as soon as they rolled the gurney out. Her gaze immediately fixed on the trees overhead.
“Hold it,” Sid ordered the men. They were ready to push the bed right into the ambulance. “Give her a minute.”
She stared at the sky with amazement. He wondered how many times she gone out of that hospital room for fresh air over the years. If they did, she hadn’t been in the level of consciousness where she could enjoy it.
Yellow and red leaves were dancing around his feet. He leaned down and grabbed one and held it up for her before placing it next to her hand. It was a maple leaf, brilliantly red.
“The colors are especially beautiful this year,” he said, though he’d never even noticed until just now.
She let go of his hand and laid her hand on the leaf with utmost gentleness. She took another deep breath and this time lifted her chin and closed her eyes.
Sid took a deep breath, too. The autumn air felt good in his lungs.
He stared at her. Because of her, he was remembering to look at the simple joys of life.
“We have two more patient transfers today,” one of the men grumbled, breaking the serenity of the moment.
“We’re not going anywhere until her bag comes,�
� Sid told him in a sharp tone.
Luckily, Jennifer stepped out only a minute later. Sid had every intention of making them wait, though, if it had taken another hour.
The nurse was teary-eyed when she said goodbye to Amelia. She promised to come and see her by mid-week. One of the cops gave instructions to the driver regarding the exact route to take to Wallingford. Sid climbed into the ambulance first and the two men moved Amelia in next.
He saw one of the medics was about to climb into the back, too.
“That won’t be necessary,” Sid told him. “I’m her physician. You can sit in the front with the driver.”
The two paramedics looked at each other and then one shrugged. “Sure, doc. Whatever you want.”
One of the cops was standing behind the medic, who was reaching for the door.
“I’ll get it,” the cop said, taking hold of the door. He was a tall, burly guy with the ruddy face of a guy who spent a lot of time outdoors. He looked at Sid. “What kind of trouble do you expect?”
“I wish I knew. Did anyone tell you what happened last night?”
“Yep. I’m just wondering if we should have arranged for a couple of cruisers.”
Sid would have felt better if they had.
“We’ll be okay. It’s a straightforward stretch of highway, and we’re traveling midday.” The officer was talking himself out of it. “We can always call for help if we need it.”
“That’s right,” Sid replied. “Just keep an eye open.”
“That’s what we do,” the cop said cheerfully. “We’ll see you in Wallingford.” He closed the back door of the ambulance.
Sid took his seat on the bench beside the gurney before he looked at Amelia. She was casting anxious glances around the enclosed space. He laid his hand next to hers, and she immediately clutched his fingers. He tried to remember when was the last time he’d ridden in the back of an ambulance. It had to be when he was an undergraduate student, doing an internship with an EMT corp.
He looked around him, imagining what it would be like to see all of this for the first time. Even more frightening, he supposed, if he were unable to speak or move the way Amelia was now.
The ambulance jerked slightly and they were underway.
“These are just supplies,” Sid told her, motioning to the shelves next to her. “Nothing to do with you.”
Amelia looked where he’d pointed. A sharp turn caused everything to rattle. Her grip tightened even more.
“Jeez,” he said with a smile. “Must be a new driver.”
A divider with a cabinet at the bottom and a sliding window at the top separated them from the driver. Sid was tempted to reach over and tap on the glass, reminding them that there were passengers in the back and the patient was stressed enough as it was. To do that, though, he’d have to free himself from Amelia’s grasp. He decided against it.
He didn’t know how much of her memory Amelia had gained back. Memory recovery in patients covered a wide range. Some never recall anything of the years they’d been in the MCS state, while others recall details of that gap immediately. What she would remember of the time prior to the accident was also unknown at this point, but Sid knew that she remembered her sister, at least. It wasn’t until she regained the use of her voice or improved the motor skills needed to write or type clearly that they could test her on those things.
As far as her involvement in their research study, he knew he needed to proceed very slowly. All of the ethical issues that factored into patients’ families decision not to participate were now a reality with Amelia. Still, he wasn’t going to worry about that for now.
The ambulance was weaving through traffic, with more occasional rattling of equipment. He glared over his shoulder at the driver. The dividing window was closed. Through it, Sid caught a glimpse of the highway. The traffic appeared to be light.
Sid felt Amelia’s fingers let go of his. He looked at her hand. She was trying to trace letters on the blanket.
He looked up at her. “Good, I’d much rather carry on a conversation with you than worry about this crazy driver.”
Her fingers continued to move.
He looked around him for something she could write on. Digging into his bag, he took out a pad of paper and a pen. Amelia’s left hand was next to Sid. He already knew she was right-handed. He undid his seatbelt and stood up, looking over the gurney. The fingers on her right hand were moving, too.
“How about if we make this a little easier?” Reaching over, he carefully placed the pad of paper under her right hand. Holding the pen upright, he wrapped her fingers around it.
Watching her face, he could see she was concentrating very hard, but her motor skills were already improving. The first letter was easy to recognize.
“B,” Sid repeated.
She blinked. He grabbed hold of an overhead safety bar as the ambulance veered again in the traffic. They were really moving.
“What the heck?” he complained, glancing up at the window. The driver or the other guy had closed the privacy cover on the divider.
Amelia’s fingers continued to move on the paper. Trying to maintain his balance, Sid looked over.
“BAD,” he repeated what she’d written down.
She blinked again and was already writing on the pad again.”
“Wait.” He repositioned the pad so that she was writing on a clean space. “Okay, go ahead.”
Sid focused on the paper as she wrote. She had trouble with these letters but in a matter of seconds what she’d marked became clear in his mind.
“GUN?” he asked.
She blinked. The pencil dropped onto the blanket.
“Bad…gun,” he said.
She was staring at him like he was an imbecile.
“Gun…where would you see a gun?” He tried to think why she would think of that word now. “The cops…the police officers by the building. They had guns.”
She again just stared. Sid sat down as another weaving movement of ambulance nearly threw him against the side wall. He couldn’t understand the reason for driving like this. He watched Amelia’s eyes move upward…toward the front of the ambulance. She tried to lift her head, but she couldn’t, lying flat on her back. She succeeded in slightly pulling herself against the straps holding her, and raising her eyes to the window again, before she dropped back down.
“Do they have gun?” he asked.
She blinked.
CHAPTER 56
San Diego International Airport
After four flight changes and eighteen hours of travel, Shawn Dunlap was bone weary by the time the plane touched down in San Diego International Airport. As soon as the okay came through from the pilot to use electronics, Shawn had his cell phone open and was dialing Helen’s number.
She didn’t answer.
Shawn dialed the number for Cynthia’s condo next. The answering machine picked up there. He didn’t leave a message.
He’d tried to take a nap on the last leg of the flight, but he couldn’t sleep. He was too worried about Cynthia. He’d spoken to a doctor in the intensive care unit at the hospital while waiting to get on the plane in Gaborone, the capitol of Botswana. The information he’d been given then was vague. They didn’t have the results back from a number of tests that had been done on her. The prognosis so far was not good. That much was clear.
He’d tried to call Helen from Johannesburg, South Africa, then again from Dakar, Senegal. Each time, there’d been no answer. He’d tried the hospital again at every flight change, as well, but hadn’t been able to get any of the doctors on the phone, until his last flight change at Dulles in DC. Her condition was still touch and go. She had sustained internal bleeding. They were in process of deciding if they should go ahead with surgery or not.
Shawn knew how Cynthia always struggled with her mother. Their relationship had reversed some time when she was in high school. The daughter had become the parent. Helen was definitely the dependent one.
He would have thought
in a situation such as this, Helen would pull herself together and stick by her daughter until he arrived. Maybe she was doing that, Shawn told himself as he followed the line of people leaving the plane. Optimist that he was, he wanted to think that perhaps Helen was back at the hospital, and she had her cell phone off because of hospital regulations.
Shawn didn’t wait for his luggage before heading toward customs. Because of the stand-by status at every leg of the trip, he’d been warned that it might take days before his suitcase arrived in San Diego. He couldn’t care less about that now. They’d hold it for him.
He was ahead of the crowd going through customs. A quick swipe of his passport by the immigration officer, and he was heading for the doors to get a cab. Cynthia had dropped him off at the airport when he’d left on this trip.
A line of people stood waiting at the sidewalk for taxis. He decided to call the hospital again. Maybe by now the doctor he’d spoken to would have more definitive answers for him.
He asked for the physician. Shawn was told that the doctor he asked for was gone for the day. He asked for the physician in charge of Cynthia’s care at the moment.
“I can connect you to the nurses’ station on the floor the patient is located,” the operator told him.
“That’s fine.”
“The name of patient?”
“Cynthia Adrian,” Shawn said. There were two groups before him to get a taxi. There was a traffic jam of cars waiting for travelers, and an airport security officer was directing the traffic in front, allowing only one taxi to pull against the curb at the time.
“Can you spell the name?”
Shawn gave her the spelling. There was a considerable pause on the other side. He figured she was probably transferring the call. He was wrong. The same woman’s voice came back on line.
“I’m sorry, sir. But we have no patient under that name at this hospital.”
He turned away from people waiting in line. Now he was getting pissed off. “I suggest you check again. My fiancée has been a patient—”
