Authors: Jaime Maddox
Tags: #Fiction, #Medical, #Thriller, #Mystery, #Crime, #Romance
They both laughed. “You’re not afraid of snakes, are you, Doc?”
“Petrified,” she confessed. “But I’m determined to conquer all my fears before I die. Do you think they’ll let me touch it,” she asked, then quickly added, “while its head is in that tube thingy?”
“I don’t think so. But if you want, I’ll catch one for you and you can have all the fun you want.”
Ward turned to her, incredulous. “No way! You catch snakes?”
“Sure. There’s tons of ’em in the woods.”
“I think I’m going to faint,” Ward proclaimed. “Most of my tee shots end up in the woods.”
Erin responded with a hand on Ward’s back, and suddenly Ward thought better of the plan she’d had to tell Erin about her breakup with Jess. Her touch felt too good, and Ward thought she’d better put up some walls rather than tear any more down.
“Erin!”
A booming voice from behind startled them, and they turned simultaneously in that direction. Ward noticed the smile on Erin’s face before she saw the cause—a tall, dark, and handsome woman wearing a paramedic’s uniform. Her dark eyes were keen and penetrating. She was older than Erin, probably older than Ward, too, but looked neat and fit and impressive. And vaguely familiar. Had they met?
The other two shared a quick hug, and Ward caught the newcomer checking her out even while her arms were wrapped around Erin. Before Erin could introduce her, the woman stood back and blatantly studied Ward. “If it isn’t the rent-a-doc. You look good with clothes on.”
Erin howled, and Ward held out her hand in introduction. “Ward Thrasher. Have we met?”
“Our eyes met, across a crowded trauma room.”
Ward searched her memory. This woman was totally hot, and she was sure she’d have remembered meeting her, but since she was obviously flirting with Ward, maybe it was better that she didn’t. Better not to seem too interested because, quite honestly, she wasn’t sure she was ready to be interested at all. Perhaps, though, it was good that she was even thinking about the possibility of being interested. There might be hope for her future yet. Not love—she would certainly never do that again. But hot sex? Maybe. Just maybe she could do that.
“I don’t remember. When was that?”
“Oh, a few months ago. I was working a transfer. You sent a trauma to Scranton. Snowmobile vs. tree. No helmet. Tree won.”
Ward nodded. “I remember. That was Erin’s case.” Then Ward frowned. “I heard that guy died.”
“Yeah, I heard that, too. A lot of dying going on with the rent-a-docs around.” Her posture stiffened and the playfulness left her voice as she caught Ward’s eyes.
Ward recoiled, as if one of the snakes wandering just a few feet away had bitten her. “Excuse me?” she asked.
The woman shook her head. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
Ward knew she should let it go, but she couldn’t. “Well, what the hell do you mean?” Who was this woman, and what gave her the right to say such a thing?
Her face fell and she reached a hand out to Ward, but Ward stepped back. “Doc, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Why don’t we get a beer?” she asked.
Ward looked to Erin. “I’ll get you a pet snake, don’t worry,” she said as she protectively guided Ward back to the beer cage.
They found Erin’s friends where she’d left them, and they quickly filled glasses from a pitcher and handed them over. Ward met the stranger’s eyes over a beer she had no intention of drinking and realized she didn’t even know the woman’s name. But she knew she didn’t like her.
Ward took a few steps toward her and leaned in. “So, why don’t you tell me why you felt the need to make that disparaging remark about me? Don’t you know how damning words can be, especially from a professional like you? People trust your opinion about medical issues. They listen to what you say.”
The medic gulped her beer and then leaned close, so only Ward could hear her. So close Ward could feel her breath tickling her ear when she spoke. “Look, I really am sorry. And I know you’re right. But there’s this other doctor. Hawk. He’s been all over the mountains in the last six months or so. And because I work per diem, I get around too. I’ve never seen so many dead patients as I have when he’s taken care of them.”
Ward turned to face her and they were nearly nose-to-nose. Ward hoped the woman could feel the fire burning within her, threatening to erupt. Without serious evidence of wrongdoing, saying such things was flat-out unprofessional and inexcusable. Such remarks could ruin a physician’s career, or at least derail it. Every doctor lost patients, sometimes for no obvious reason, and sometimes there was nothing to be done but mourn and move on. To have professional colleagues speculate about patient care was difficult enough, but to hear one smear a physician’s reputation with a patient’s blood was inexcusable. Ward couldn’t contain her anger.
“How dare you? Who the hell are you, anyway? What’s your name? I want to know who you are so when I call the state board I know who to report!”
Apparently, the volume of Ward’s voice had risen above the whisper where it started, because everyone in the group had stopped talking and turned to stare at them. Everyone except Erin, who stepped closer and wedged herself between them. “Hey, guys, calm down!”
Ward realized she’d been out of line, and she stepped back. “Sorry, everyone.” She didn’t apologize to the medic, but instead reached for the nearly empty pitcher of beer on the tall table in the middle of their group. Erin followed her to the counter where Ward requested a refill.
“Moira really isn’t a bad person, Ward,” Erin said. “She’s just been burned.”
“Not by me!” Ward retorted.
“Yeah, I know. She’s still angry, though. It was a guy she knew. Third-degree heart block. Lyme disease, they said. Moira saved him, but then he coded in the ER. Same story, you know? The staff said Hawk went through all the motions but didn’t really seem to care that the patient died.”
Ward shook her head. “She still shouldn’t be talking like that, Erin. This is a physician, a man who’s sacrificed his life to study and train to do this job. Little comments like that are harmful. Just the suggestion of malpractice can plant the seed and bring a lawsuit that shakes the whole hospital. It wouldn’t just be the doctor. It’s the medic’s judgment in question. If he was so sick, why didn’t she take him to Scranton where there’s a cardiologist? The nurse’s work is questioned. The hospital is questioned. And truthfully, Erin, tell me how much closer to death could the guy be than third-degree heart block? His heart was practically stopped. Whatever caused it to stop didn’t go away just because he arrived in the ER. Maybe she gave him some medication or put on an external pacemaker, but there’s only so much you can do with a sick heart! It could have been Hawk, or me, or the chief of cardiology at Mass General, and the patient still would have died.”
“I know what you’re saying, Ward. It may not be malpractice at all, but it seems to happen again and again when Hawk’s around. You remember the stories I told you? Moira has a dozen more. And he’s just so creepy he makes people’s skin crawl.”
“And so Moira blames me for this? Why?”
“Well, duh. You work for the same company.”
Now it made sense. “Guilt by association.”
“Exactly. It’s not you. As a matter of fact, I think she likes you.”
Ward rolled her eyes. “Not if she was the last woman on the planet!”
Erin’s smile grew wide. “Oh, so does that mean there’s hope for me? I’m only second to last?”
Ward closed her eyes and shook her head. Erin was relentless. Good thing she didn’t know about the breakup.
“But listen,” Erin said. “Chances are you’re going to run into her again, so you should just make peace. The last thing you want is an enemy on the medic unit.”
“Since I’m only going to be here for another month, I really don’t give a shit.”
The startled look on Erin’s face told Ward she’d said too much.
“What? You’re leaving? Where are you going?”
Ward had never told Erin the whole story about Jess. She’d simply said she was taking a few months off from her relationship. Erin knew Jess was the director at Garden, though, so it was only a matter of time before Erin realized they’d split up. Ward had to tell her the truth.
“I’m going back to Philly,” she said simply.
“What about Jess?”
Ward didn’t look at her and concentrated on the tune her fingers were tapping on the countertop. It was covered in plastic with a red-and-white checked pattern, and her fingers danced from color to color in time with a far-away musical tune. “She’s staying here.”
The world seemed suddenly still, and the chaos around her seemed to grow quiet as Erin touched her gently on the arm. “You’re better off without her.”
Ward didn’t know if that was true, but with so many people saying it, maybe it was. Unfortunately, she’d have a chance to find out.
Central Lines
Edward stood in the darkness, leaning against the door of the physician’s lounge. His breathing was ragged, and he needed the door to support his weak legs. Killing sometimes had that effect on him. When he felt he could walk again, he made his way to the bathroom and washed his face, careful to keep the water from his clothes. He hated dirty clothing. The CPR had been disgusting, and after only a few minutes, he’d been wet with sweat. He was tempted to change into hospital-issued scrubs, but who’d worn them before? His own sweat was far less foul than someone else’s.
Feeling better after the cool water on his face, Edward reflected on his kill. It was a child, a little girl with a femur fracture. She’d been seriously injured, and in the hands of an incompetent or inexperienced emergency physician, she might have died anyway. He had the knowledge and skills to save her, if he’d wished to. But he hadn’t. Even before she arrived in his ER, he’d been excited by the prospect of murdering her. The medic’s report detailed her injuries and unstable vital signs, and he knew she would be his from the moment he’d taken the call.
It was a tremendous pleasure in the end, the murder. She was a whiny little thing, crying for her parents from the moment she reached the hospital. In spite of her low blood pressure, she’d managed to punch him in the face when he unfastened the restraints holding her to the backboard, and she did worse damage to one of the nurses. When she’d stopped breathing, it had been a blessing for all of them.
Of course, the death of a small child was something he had to aggressively fight. He’d gone through the motions with more enthusiasm than was warranted, even under the circumstances. In the end, it was all futile, as he knew it would be. There was no bringing her back, and he had to admit, the thrill of her death was worth the cost of dry-cleaning his suit.
Reaching into his bag, Edward removed his toothbrush from its case and brushed his teeth. He straightened his tie and combed his hair. The reflection in the mirror smiled at him, and he realized he should be happy. His month in Factoryville, PA, had been very productive. God, he loved locum tenens work.
Arrhythmia
They’d told Ward she couldn’t miss it, and they hadn’t been lying.
They
were the entire ER staff. The entire hospital staff, really—at least the ones she’d met during her first three days of work at Endless Mountains Medical Center in the metropolis of Factoryville, Pennsylvania. It seemed they all knew and loved Dr. Judi Rosen, the energetic senior citizen who still practiced medicine-full time and served as the hospital’s chief of staff. The entire hospital work force had been invited to this annual Fourth of July celebration at her home, and from the number of cars parked along the stretch of country road leading to a mailbox marked with a dozen red, white, and blue balloons, all of them were at the party.
Ward had debated coming; she was tired after her third consecutive twelve-hour shift in a busy ER. The tourists had arrived in the mountains in record numbers, or so it seemed, and had discovered a variety of interesting ways to injure themselves. She’d cast arms and ankles, dressed burns, stitched wounds created by knives and bicycle pedals, and after more than forty hours of that nonsense in just three days, Ward was exhausted.
But.
There was always a
but
, she thought. No matter what the situation, she’d learned long ago that the answer to the question never came without a big fat
but
. She always had something or someone else to consider. For the past six years, Jess had caused her to think twice, and after all that had happened in the past six months, she was beginning to wonder if she should rethink her philosophy. Instead of going along and getting along, maybe it was time to just say no.
She’d been a loving, accommodating partner, sacrificing her own wants and needs to make Jess happy, and where had that gotten her? Jess was dating another woman, buying a house, and moving out of the one they’d shared. Ward didn’t know why, what she did or didn’t do, or what she should have done. She didn’t know what she might have said or when she should have kept her mouth shut. Was she too “out” for a small town like Garden, or should she have been more aggressive in demanding acceptance and respect from Zeke and all the others at the hospital who seemed to like her, but in the end weren’t unhappy to see her go?
She’d never flaunted her sexuality, but she didn’t have to. Everyone knew Sheriff Benson’s daughter Jessica’s
friend
Dr. Ward Thrasher. And they all knew the nature of their relationship. They’d seemed friendly to her, and supportive of her as the ER doctor, yet none had called after she left to see how she was doing, to ask if she was coming back, to wish her well.
If she’d walked away with the girl, she wouldn’t have really cared. Under the circumstances, though, she couldn’t help wondering what she’d done wrong. She wished she had the answers to all her questions. She would have liked nothing more than to crawl into the old claw-foot, porcelain bathtub and soak away her frustrations before returning to the hospital for yet another twelve-hour shift the next morning. Twelve that would likely become thirteen, as the others had.