Читать книгу Intensive Care Crisis - Karen Kirst - Страница 17

Audrey tugged at the wet material clinging to her skin and grimaced. Her foot had gotten caught on the hospital bed wheel, and she’d stumbled, spilling apple juice down her front. If it had been water, she would’ve let it air-dry. But the juice would start to smell foul. And it was sticky.

She headed for the door. “I’m going to get a new set of scrubs from supply.”

Veronica, who’d hovered like a thundercloud since the incident, looked up from her handheld device. Her garish red lips formed a disgruntled slash. “Hurry up.” She tilted her head at the unoccupied beds. “Our ten o’clock knee replacement is almost done.”

In the hallway, she removed her cap and tucked it in her pocket. She readjusted the band holding her hair in place as she navigated the brightly lit hall. A security guard passed and nodded in greeting. There hadn’t been any more problems with her patients, for which she was grateful. Almost losing Julian had rattled her. He didn’t play a role in her life, but there was something about the stoic marine that touched a chord inside. Maybe it was the fact he’d ignored his own safety to pull the others out of that wrecked helicopter.

His striking looks had nothing to do with it, she reassured herself. Neither did his brooding demeanor or the loneliness and grief he tried to hide from the world.

Pushing thoughts of the sergeant from her mind, she left the surgical unit, passed through the central lobby area and entered a stairwell that would take her down to the basement level. Their unit’s supply room had run out of space months ago. Until they could rearrange stock or create more storage, overflow was located in a secondary area that didn’t see much traffic.

Muted orange-yellow light spilled down the concrete stairs, drawing attention to gouges in the cement walls and the stair rail’s peeling paint. At the bottom, she shouldered open the heavy door. A vinegary odor emanating from the basement labs greeted her in the narrow hallway. She didn’t pass a single person as she followed the worn, cracked tiles to the room at the end. Inside, she flipped the switch. Only about half of the overhead lights flickered on, leaving much of the high shelving systems in shadow.

“Great,” she muttered. With no windows to admit natural light, it was going to take time to dig through the scrubs to find her size.

She wove through the network of short aisles to reach the rear wall. Rounding the last section, Audrey nearly jumped out of her skin when a loud crash clattered right behind her. Her hand pressed to her thrumming heart, she pivoted and saw that her foot had dislodged a mop propped against the wall. Crouching down, she grabbed the wooden handle off the hard tiles and set it right again.

Another sound reached her, then...the grinding of sand beneath a rubber shoe sole.

The hair on her arms stood at attention. Audrey did a complete turn in the tight passage, between wooden shelves and a painted block wall.

“Hello?”

The thought of the person who’d invaded the recovery room flashed in her mind. Had the thief decided his current methods weren’t working? After all, she hadn’t quit. Hadn’t been fired. Hadn’t remained silent.

Had he switched targets?

Audrey remained frozen for long minutes, her ears straining for out-of-place clues that she wasn’t alone. There was nothing. Hurrying to the stacks, she sorted through shirts and pants for her size, too distracted to worry about tidying up after herself.

“There. Done.”

A presence registered behind her before she could turn around to leave. Measured breathing. The rustle of clothing.

Adrenaline charged through her system too late. Something hard and unyielding came up and over her head and pressed against her throat, cutting off her air supply. Silencing her.

The scrubs slipped from her fingers. Reaching up, she gripped the stick. Can’t breathe.

She couldn’t dislodge it. He was immovable, her captor, his arms and chest forming a vise around her.

Dots danced in her vision. She struggled. Writhed. Kicked. Her lungs stretched to the bursting point.

Audrey reached up to claw at his face. If she could gouge his eyes—

He increased the pressure. Pain was a scream lodged in her throat.

As consciousness ebbed, thoughts of her dad filled her with sadness. The loss of Audrey’s mother had almost destroyed him. What would burying his only child do?

Her body was growing limp. She was out of time.

A tear dripped down her cheek.

Shouts pierced the black cloud. Suddenly, the arms around her went slack. He let the mop fall and spun away from her.

Audrey swayed and fell to her knees. A scuffle ensued between her attacker and would-be rescuer. In the murky light, she recognized the stark white dressing on the second man’s arm.

“Julian,” she gasped.

He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be confronting an attacker in his condition, most likely the same man who tried to kill him mere days ago.

Julian blocked the other man’s fist with his good arm, and then used his leg to land a forceful kick to his opponent’s gut. When the man’s body glanced off the shelf, Julian tackled him. The pair hit the floor in a blur of blows and deflections, their grunts loud in her ears.

Her attacker was clad in black. A ski mask obscured his face. His greater bulk made him a fearsome foe. However, he was less agile than the marine. Julian quickly gained control of the situation. He pinned the man on his stomach and wedged his knee against his spine.

After removing a pistol tucked beneath the man’s suitcoat, he cast a searching glance in her direction. “You okay?”

Audrey belatedly realized she was still on the floor. She pushed to her feet and prayed her legs would hold her.

“I’m good.” Her throat ached, and her head throbbed with the stirrings of a headache, but she was alive. Thanks to him.

Her relief was short-lived. In a burst of energy, her attacker leveraged himself up, slamming his head into Julian’s. His beefy arm swung wildly and connected with Julian’s cheek. The double blows dazed him long enough for the masked man to get up and flee.

* * *

Julian’s gaze kept returning to the angry welts that marred Audrey’s delicate skin. He didn’t want to contemplate the possible outcome of this morning’s attack if he hadn’t come for a post-op checkup and spotted her passing the gift shop. He hadn’t planned to pester her with his questions, since she was on duty. But then he’d seen the goon in a dress suit enter the stairwell, and he’d decided to follow his instincts. The goon hadn’t been wearing the ski mask in the general area of the hospital, but Julian hadn’t gotten a clear view of his face.

He eased the tissue from his cheek and tossed it in the bin. The cut wasn’t deep. Still, it irked him. Weeks of desk duty had made him soft. If this had happened before January, he’d have subdued that guy and not suffered a single bruise. He wouldn’t have let himself be distracted by a pretty woman, either.

Julian inwardly cringed at his stupidity. The guys would have a hearty laugh over this one—

No, they wouldn’t. Because they were dead. Paulson, Akins, Rossello, Cook. Upstanding, honorable men. The best of the best.

Suppressing a tide of grief, he refocused on Audrey. Instantly, he knew she needed a break from the repetitive—and at this stage, pointless—questions.

Pushing off the wall, he stalked to where she perched on the edge of a hard, plastic seat. Her head was bowed.

“We’re done here,” Julian stated.

Both Audrey and the security member gaped at him.

“We need more information—”

“No, you don’t. There’s nothing more to tell.” Worried about her enlarged pupils and ashen complexion, he held out his hand. “Come with me, Audrey.”

Placing her trembling hand in his, she allowed him to lead her out of the office. He ushered her to the nearest exit, which emptied into a courtyard with massive plant pots and a koi pond in one corner. The early morning air had a crisp bite to it. Good, because she needed to cool off physically and emotionally.

She sat on the bench he indicated and stared at nothing. Julian crouched in front of her.

He touched her knee. “Can I get you a soda? Coffee?”

Clasping her hands tightly in lap, she shook her head. The elastic band holding her hair was about to slip free.

“You, um—” He leaned forward and gingerly removed the blue band, registering the sensation of her silky hair against his skin. Her alluring, summery scent washed over him. Again, he had a strong recollection of something tied to his childhood. “Here you go.”

She closed her hand over the band. Her shiny tresses spilled past her shoulders, tumbling waves of rich sable.

“What about a cherry slushy?” he said. “The cafeteria might have one.”

Her lips parted. “How do you know about that?”

“Don’t freak out. I’ve shared a few elevator rides with you. More often than not, you have a slushy from the gas station, and cherry has a distinctive color.”

When she continued to stare at him with that arrested expression, he moved to sit beside her. “Look, I’m trained to notice details. In some instances, it can lead to capturing a terrorist or preventing an attack. In others, it means I know what my neighbors like to drink after a long shift. That’s not a habit I can turn off when I’m out of uniform.”

Sighing, she swept her hair behind her shoulder. “I have a weakness for cherry-flavored Jolly Ranchers, too.”

He felt a smile forming. “Good to know.”

She studied his cheek before cutting a glance at his arm. “Please tell me you didn’t reinjure your arm.”

“I didn’t reinjure my arm.”

Her eyes darkened. “You saved me.”

“I was in the right place at the right time.”

“I thank God for it.”

“What’s going on, Audrey?”

She bit her lip and shrugged. He was tempted to walk away. He’d suffered no lasting effects from his ordeal, and Audrey Harris was none of his concern. The one thing stopping him from escorting her back to security was the thought of his younger sisters. If any one of them was facing a threat and he wasn’t around to help, he’d want someone to step up to the plate.

Plus, she’d saved his life. So what if he’d done the same for her? He didn’t believe in calling things even. He owed her a debt of gratitude that couldn’t be repaid.

He tried again. “You can’t tell me these attacks aren’t connected.”

Indecision played out across her face. Her knuckles went white.

“I couldn’t help my team,” he said quietly. “But maybe I can help you.”

Her surprise mirrored his own. Why had he said that? He didn’t like thinking about what had happened, much less put it into words.

“There’s a thief in the hospital,” she said in a rush. “Someone’s been taking partially used ampules of narcotics to feed their addiction. They might also be watering down patient doses and taking the rest for themselves. I’m not sure.”

Actions with serious, perhaps even fatal, consequences. “You told your supervisor?”

“And some of my coworkers. Soon after, there were issues with my patients. Nothing life-threatening until you.” Her expression turned bleak. “This person must have a terrible addiction to feed.”

Julian sagged against the bench. The average drug user wouldn’t go to such extreme lengths to quell an investigation. It seemed to him that Audrey had gotten herself into something far more sinister. But what?

“Does your father know?”

She bolted to her feet and stared down at him. “He knows nothing, and that’s the way it stays.”

“I’ve served under him for more than a year. Gunny is a private man, but I have learned several things. Laziness and carelessness are his top pet peeves. He hates surprises. Can’t function on less than four cups of coffee a day, and he believes his only daughter hung the moon.”

“If my dad found out, he’d try to force me to quit. He still sees me as a helpless little girl.” Worry pinched her mouth. “Please don’t tell him.”

“You’re putting me in an untenable position. You know that, right?”

“I can handle this on my own.”

“Really?” He stood up. This close, he could see the contrast between her irises’ navy outer ring and the azure blue interior. Like the varying shades of the Pacific surrounding his island home. “What’s your plan?”

She licked her lips. “First off, I won’t be going into the supply room alone.” When he didn’t comment, she continued. “I’ll be extra vigilant, both here and outside the hospital.”

“You think this will go away on its own.”

“That’s what I’m praying will happen.”

Prayer hadn’t made a single difference when that helo went down. He’d begged God to let his team live. His pleas had been in vain.

She spoke again, temporarily halting his descent into bitterness. “You’re a good listener, Sergeant Tan. I thank you for that. Now I’m asking you to respect my decision not to involve my dad.”

“I won’t volunteer the information.”

At his unspoken warning, she frowned. “And you won’t give him any reason to ask questions, I hope.”

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, Julian spotted a male nurse headed for the courtyard. He burst outside in a cloud of anger. “Veronica said to go home, Audrey.”

“Home? I don’t finish until seven.”

The veins bulged at his temple. Older than Audrey by about a decade, the man looked like he led a rough life. Bloodshot eyes, reddened nose, sallow complexion. His head was shaved to call less attention to his bald spot. He was thin to the point of gauntness.

“I’ll have to work alone this shift,” he spat, dismissing Julian with a sneer. “You need to get your act together. If you don’t, I’m going to Mr. Harper.”

The door slammed behind him. Audrey had grown pale again.

“One of your coworkers?”

“Frank Russo.”

“And Mr. Harper? Who’s he?”

“Hospital president.”

He didn’t know her well enough to assume that she was innocent, but he’d developed keen instincts when it came to a person’s character. His gut said she was the sort of girl who put a high priority on others’ comfort. Otherwise, why choose a career that held zero glamour and demanded she give her all to the well-being of strangers?

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Audrey.”

Her mouth twisted. “Problem is, I can’t prove it.”

* * *

Not convinced leaving her alone was a good idea, Julian accompanied her to the cafeteria. As they didn’t have a slushy machine, she settled for coffee. He watched as she doctored it.

“I’ll follow you home when you’re ready,” he said.

“I’m going upstairs to speak with Veronica.” She took a small sip to taste and added another packet of sugar. “There’s no reason why I shouldn’t work today.”

While her color had returned to normal and the welt across her throat looked less angry, she was jumpy, as her gaze performed frequent sweeps of the room.

“Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“I want you to have my number, just in case.”

“That’s not necessary.” At the register, she swiped her employee ID and thanked the cashier.

“I insist.”

She reluctantly did as he asked. When he’d finished inputting the information, she tucked it back into her pocket. “I don’t plan on calling you.”

“I hope you don’t have to.”

“I know why you’re doing this.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Because of my dad. And because you have a warrior mind-set. You see a problem, you fix it. You see someone in trouble, you make it your business to help. Like you said before, you don’t know how to turn off the marine and be a regular guy.”

All those things may be true, but he suspected there was more to his drive to help her. There was something different about her, an elusive quality that intrigued him. He didn’t want to be intrigued. Didn’t want to notice her compassionate eyes, her cute nose or kind mouth. He certainly didn’t want to catch her looking at him like he was that word the newspapers had thrown around. He wasn’t a hero.

“Speaking of problems, we’re about to have one.”

She glanced over her shoulder to the main set of double doors and gasped. “What is he doing here?”

Trent Harris strode into the dining area alongside a male friend. They were deep in conversation and hadn’t spotted them yet. Although out of uniform, Trent had the military look, his silver hair buzzed short and his physique honed from years of service. He exuded an undeniable air of authority.

“I forgot Dad meets with some of the board of directors this time of year to plan the annual charity golf tournament. I can’t let him see me like this,” she said, gesturing to her neck. “I’ll slip out the side exit.”

“Audrey—”

“Please, he has enough to worry about with work. All those men lost...he’s taking it hard. Maybe not as hard as you are—” She broke off, her eyes pleading with him. “I can’t burden him with this. Not now.”

Julian didn’t agree, but what say did he have in her choices? “Fine. Go.”

“Thank you.” She dodged tables and garbage receptacles and rushed out the door. He was watching her retreating form through the large windows separating the cafeteria and hallway when his superior approached.

“Sergeant Tan.” His eyes—the same bold hue as his daughter’s—gleamed with speculation. “What are you doing here?”

Harris’s friend continued into the food service area. “I had a post-op checkup.”

One broad eyebrow arched in silent question.

“It’s healing on schedule. I’ll report for work Monday.” Not for his usual duties, he thought bitterly. They’d planted him at an admin desk until the unit doctor decided to return him to full duty or trot him before a medical board for retirement consideration. Before the accident, he would’ve prayed for God to restore the career he loved. He didn’t bother now.

“If you need more sick time, call Staff Sergeant Webb.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “Now, why don’t you explain to me what you were doing with my daughter?”

Julian controlled his reaction. He’d begun to think Harris hadn’t seen her. “Audrey was getting coffee, sir. We talked.”

“About?”

None of your business, he wanted to say. But he respected the man. Julian would go so far as to say he admired him. “My recovery. Your daughter is very conscientious.”

“Hmm.”

He stifled the urge to squirm beneath the stare that would have lesser men spilling all their secrets. “Looks like your friend has his food. I’ll see you in the office.”

“Tan.”

The single word had the effect of a snapped whip. Julian stopped short.

“I like you, but I’m envisioning a quiet, stable life for my daughter. I’m hoping I’ll get a doctor or lawyer for a son-in-law.”

“I understand, sir.” Marines need not apply, especially force-recon marines. They had a reputation for being rougher and wilder than the rest. Not that Julian had done anything to earn such a reputation. “I have no intention of dating Audrey.”

He nodded, seemingly appeased. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Julian left the hospital feeling dissatisfied. Thoughts of Audrey trailed him the rest of the day. He had a feeling this wasn’t over. But Harris had warned him off, and the woman herself didn’t want his help or protection.

He didn’t need the distraction, anyway. Getting his old life back had to be his main focus.