Song of the Blackbird (Albatross Prison #1) (4 page)

Chapter 4

“Brown, go check on Dr. Edwards.” Maxim glanced at the clock one more time. It’d been nineteen minutes since she ran out of the room. Just ran out.
Didn’t the woman have any manners?
She’d pushed her chair back to stay as far away from him as possible. Even then, her slight rosewater scent had drifted over to him. Light yet sweet. Delicious.
Damn it. What was wrong with him? Since when did he fantasize over a woman’s perfume?

He hadn’t been thinking straight since she stormed into his life that morning. She was aggravating, rude, naïve, and too cursed young.
What the hell was she doing in his prison?
Maxim shook his head and stretched his tight collar.

“Relax, Maxim.” Kaye laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sure she didn’t get in any trouble.”

Maxim lifted his arm out of the way and bit back a sigh. One date all those months ago and Kaye was on him like white on rice. “I am relaxed. Let’s move on. Is the flu clinic all set up?”

“Yes. Everything’s ready.” The CMO smiled, fluttering her long eyelashes.

Such flawless beauty
. Too bad it was only skin deep. Only two female doctors on his team and he was cursed with the both of them. One couldn’t get enough of him and the other thought he was a rude beast.

“We need more inmates to take the shot,” Maxim said, trying to clear his mind of female doctors. “Last year was a disaster.”

“Only because they didn’t want to wait in line to sign the consent forms,” Brown spoke up from the doorway as he reentered the room.

“Where’s Dr. Edwards?” Maxim tried to contain his ire. Clearly Brown hadn’t understood his instructions.

“I don’t know. Maybe she went to the bathroom.” The tip of Brown’s ears turned pink. “I couldn’t go in there to check.”

“Of all the stupid excuses.” Maxim bolted out of his chair. “Your doctor has been missing for almost half an hour now and all you can say is maybe she’s in the bathroom? Where’s your head, Brown? We’re in a damned prison. She doesn’t even have her whistle on.”

The silly woman might have been mauled by an inmate by now. Maxim’s hands clenched into fists. Just as he was about to activate the alarm, the doctor walked through the door, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.

Instead of cowering or making excuses, her face lit up in a smile. And it was directed at him. Maxim’s heart lurched. A queasy feeling stirred in his stomach. Like the initial time he rode on a roller coaster. First, the emerald eyes and now that smile. Maxim tugged at his tie and tried to regain his equilibrium.

“I’m so sorry.” She smiled again. “I had to go to the bathroom. I didn’t mean to take so long.”

She was good. Maxim had to give her that. He would’ve been fooled except for those eyes. They had wandered away at the last minute. “You were in the bathroom all that time?”

“It’s a little embarrassing.” Her skin flushed a light pink color. The woman had freckles, the biggest one near the corner of her upper left lip. “I’m sure you don’t want me to go into details.”

“No. Of course not.”
How the hell did they end up talking about what a woman did in the bathroom? And why did she have to have freckles?
They were damned distracting. Maxim silently cursed and sat back in his chair. “Next time, you have to tell us where you’re going, Dr. Edwards. It’s part of the safety protocol.” He fished in his pocket. “Here’s a whistle. Don’t go anywhere without it.”

“But that’s yours,” she protested. “I can’t take it.”

Noble and naïve. She was going to be the death of him.
Maxim forced his eyes to look above her left shoulder. “I’ll get another one. Besides, you need it more than I do.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Her hand accidentally brushed his as she took the whistle. An electric jolt ran up Maxim’s arm and he jerked back, feeling as if he’d been scorched.
Damn it. What was happening to him?
She was naïve and rude. Barely out of training. And a liar to boot. Nothing to be worked up about, except as a duty to protect. She was in his prison and he needed to make sure she was safe, that was all. Still, when was the last time he gave an employee his whistle? Maxim shook his head in disgust and sat through the rest of the meeting, trying hard not to think about freckles.

After the meeting disbanded, Maxim spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on emails and correspondence before leaving work. Evening was his favorite time of the day. There was nothing he looked more forward to than getting in his Porsche and cruising back home after a hard day at work. Sure, Palos Verdes was over an hour away but the long drive never bothered him. But today was Monday. Visiting day.

He switched on the car’s ignition and leaned back against the leather seat. Out of nowhere, the doctor’s smile suddenly flashed before his eyes. He hastily turned on the audio system and pressed a couple of buttons. Soon the calming lyrics of Walt Whitman’s poem reverberated in the car.

The words never failed to soothe him and they worked their magic again that night. By the time he exited the freeway, Maxim’s mind was more at peace. Another day without a death. He should be thankful for that at least. So what if a disturbing doctor had invaded his space? It was nothing he couldn’t handle.

“How’s it going tonight, Mrs. Olsen?” Maxim greeted the charge nurse on the second floor of the nursing home a few minutes later.

The nurse tapped her clipboard and smiled at him from behind thick glasses. “Good so far, Mr. Chambers. Everybody tucked in right and tight. They all just had their dinner.”

“Good.” Maxim tasted the bile in his throat.
Dinner. What a joke.
Still, what else could they have called it? “Can I go see him?”

“Of course. Go ahead. I think he’s watching TV right now.”

“Right.” He walked down the hallway and knocked on room number nine.
Why was he even knocking?
It wasn’t as if he was expecting an answer.

His father was in the usual position, lying on his side and staring out the window. His thin white hair lay damp and neat, combed back from his high forehead. He wore the familiar threadbare brown pajamas, the same pair he possessed for fifteen years now. The nurses said he’d throw a fit if they tried to put anything else on. He stayed still most of the time but when he had his fits, he’d thrash around. One time, he almost fell off the bed when the nurse had forgotten to secure the railing.

“Hi, Pops.” Maxim bent and kissed his father’s sunken cheek. It felt rough and cool and the slight bristles tickled his chin. He inhaled the familiar soft scent of baby shampoo and lifted the shirt a tad to make sure the gastric tube wasn’t leaking. “How are you doing today? Nothing new, huh?”

His father stared straight ahead, not blinking. It was the usual silence. No moans or grunts today either. Maxim sighed.
Did Pops even know he was in the room?
Years ago, the doctor had told him there was irreversible brain damage, so Maxim’s hopes weren’t high. Alas, there wasn’t anything he could do except take it one day at a time.

Maxim walked across the room, picked up a loose blanket from the floor, and straightened the stack of books on the nightstand. “Any requests tonight or should we do the usual?” The TV in the corner was blaring
The Biggest Loser
. Maxim switched it off. His father had never been a fan of TV. He didn’t know why the nurses kept insisting on turning it on every night. Something about routine and not disrupting it. A bunch of BS if he’d ever heard any.

Maxim pulled out the top book from the stack on the nightstand. “You know, I was listening to Walt on the way here, Pops. Do you want the same CD? Mrs. Olsen can play it for you when I’m not here.”

Silence. Utter silence. Maxim pulled a blanket over his dad and leaned close. He heaved a sigh of relief when a breath finally fanned his cheeks. “So do you want your favorite?”

The favorite it was, Maxim decided after getting no answer. He pulled out a chair and sat across from the bed, making sure not to block the window. He began reading and didn’t stop until long after his father’s eyes closed.

Chapter 5

“Why do TV shows always overdramatize the ER?” Riley asked. “You know, most of the time, my job is pretty boring.”

“Hey. It’s whatever sells,” Emma said to her best friend as they finished watching Emma’s favorite TV show,
Grey’s Anatomy
.

“I wish I could save a life every day.” Riley sighed and flicked back her long brown hair. “Instead all I get are back pain patients and snotty kids. Nothing exciting has happened to me in ages.”

“You want to work in the prison? I can check if they need another doctor.” Emma scooped up the last of her tom yum soup and flipped channels to Lifetime, hoping to catch one of their romantic comedy specials. A commercial was running so she muted the TV. They were sitting on the couch in her studio apartment, eating Thai food after her first day at the prison.

“But there’s no ER there, right?” Riley asked as she twirled her Pad Thai noodles with a fork.

“No. But you’re double boarded. You can do internal medicine.”

“No, thanks. I don’t like clinic.” Riley took a bite of the noodles. “And I’m not sure how you can work with criminals. Isn’t it scary?”

“There’re guards everywhere. I feel pretty safe and my loans are being paid off. And besides, I like working with the underserved.” Emma turned off the TV when the commercials ended and a cop show appeared.

“Speaking of the underserved, are you sure you can’t join Doctors Without Borders?” Riley took a sip of her iced tea. “You told me before you wanted to go.”

“Sam needs me more right now.”

Riley scoffed. “He’s twenty-four, Emma. He’s not a baby anymore.”

“I’m all he has. I need to make sure he’s okay.” Emma tugged on her pendant.

“Did you get the chain fixed?” Riley pointed to the necklace.

“Of course. I’d never want to lose it.” Her mom had given it to her before she’d died. It was Emma’s most precious possession, not for the necklace per se but for what lay inside the locket. She rubbed the smooth border of the heart-shaped pendant. “My mom would’ve wanted me to do this.”

“Your mom’s gone, honey.” Riley’s brown eyes shone with sympathy. “You have to think of yourself now. God knows you’ve spent enough time taking care of your family.”

“My mom was sick. I had to take care of her.”

“I know. I’m not talking about when she was sick, Em. I know she needed you then, but even before she was sick, you helped out a lot.” Riley pointed an accusing chopstick in the air. “You were busy all the time. Never free to do anything. Always studying or babysitting your brother. Your parents really dumped a lot of responsibility on you.”

“Larry was a truck driver. He was never home.”
Why the heck was she defending her stepfather?
Still, Riley’s accusations were a bit unfair. “And my mom was working three jobs to support us. We didn’t have money for a babysitter, Ri. It was only me. And I love Sam. I keep thinking it’s my fault, that I could’ve prevented the whole thing somehow.”

“Don’t be silly.” Riley leaned over and squeezed her arm. “Larry is the culprit, no one else.”

“I know. But you know how it is.” Emma forced out a smile, trying to forget the past but that awful day flashed through her mind like it’d happened yesterday.

She’d come home to Anaheim early from medical school that Christmas break. Mom was having a good day. The breast cancer hadn’t metastasized to her spine yet, so she was still able to walk around. And Sam was nineteen and finally out of juvenile hall, getting ready to restart his life. He’d been there for cocaine abuse and swore to them that he’d stopped using. They were sitting around the Christmas tree, sharing stories and opening presents, like the old days before Larry had gone bonkers. Emma could still see Mom’s shocked face when the door crashed open and Larry had charged into the room.

They’d known he was drunk by one look. His clothes hung loosely on his thin frame and his eyes darted wildly around the room before finding their target.

“There you are,” he yelled as he staggered over to Sam. “Get up, you idiot. Face me like a man. This is where you’ve been all this time? Staying here with your worthless mother?”

“Get out of my house,” Mom shrieked. Emma rushed to her side but it was too late. Larry had turned their way and was charging at them full speed. In one hand, he waved the poker he’d grabbed from the fireplace.

“This is my house, woman. You stole it from me!”

“Stop, Dad, or I’ll shoot.” Sam pulled a gun out of his waistband, his eyes wide with fear, his hand shaking.

“Don’t, Sam!” Emma shouted.

Larry rushed at them with the poker. Emma stepped in front of her mom and raised her arm to ward off the blow. Two loud pops rang in the air. Larry fell on top of her, his eyes still open as blood seeped through the hole in his chest. It was disgusting, the alcohol fumes mixed with the scent of fresh blood. She never forgot the smell.

The police believed Emma and her mom about Sam defending them but he had a bag of crack cocaine on him and was carrying a gun without a permit. With his juvie record, he wasn’t allowed to carry any firearms. Sam swore he wasn’t using the cocaine and was only trying to sell it for some money to help with their mom’s medical bills. Emma howled her rage at the injustice of it all. Sure, her brother shouldn’t have possessed the drugs and selling it was wrong, but his intent had been good. The judge didn’t care, however. Sam had been just another black kid with a bad record. He got sentenced to seven years, and their mom had died one year into his term. Her poor mom, who had only ever wanted the best for her children.

Emma wished with all her heart she could relive that time. Maybe she could have calmed Larry down that day. Or if she’d tried to talk to him more when he’d called, demanding to see Sam. Sam had just been released from juvie, and Emma had thought she was protecting him by keeping his father away, but obviously she’d been dead wrong.

Looking back, Larry hadn’t been all that bad in the beginning, when he was sober and taking his medications. Her father had died before she was born, so Emma had been happy to get a stepfather when her mom had remarried. She and her mom were white, so they got a few strange looks from their conservative neighbors when Mom had married a black man. But Mom hadn’t cared. She was more concerned about Larry’s bipolar state, but he’d been stable on meds when they’d married.

Emma had been five when Sam was born, and she too, like her parents, fell in love with the cute little boy who charmed everyone with his smile and mischievous nature. He was happy all the time, always laughing and whistling, as if the world were his oyster.

Larry turned all his attention on his son, but Emma hadn’t minded. Sam was her little brother and her best friend. She’d cheered wildly when he’d taken his first step. She kicked his first soccer ball with him and read tons of books to him when he was a kid. He loved birds from the beginning. She remembered his first drawing was of a mockingbird they’d seen on one of their frequent family camping trips.

The tricolored blackbird, though, became his favorite. He loved its stark colors and its mysterious birdcall. They’d practiced the distinctive birdcall many times together when they were younger. Their mom was a Buddhist and had taught them about reincarnation. Emma thought the whole concept kind of fanciful but Sam loved the idea of coming back to life in a different form. He’d even told her he wanted to be a blackbird in his next life so that he could fly in the open sky. Emma had laughed, thinking he was being silly but Sam’s obsession with birds continued. He drew them incessantly and loved to talk about them to anyone who’d listen.

They’d been a happy family until Larry started drinking and stopped taking his meds. He had an extramarital affair, swearing to her mom it was only a one-time thing, but Emma had her suspicions. He’d gone into wild mood swings as well, lashing out at them for no particular reason. He hit her mom a couple of times but her mom hadn’t wanted to leave, had wanted to support him. Until the day Larry had hit Emma. Had slapped her across the face when she’d been seventeen for talking back to him.

The divorce was quick but nasty. Her parents had shared custody of Sam, who’d just turned twelve. Larry moved to Compton, and Sam was shipped back and forth from Orange County to LA every weekend. Larry bad-mouthed her mom and her to Sam every chance he got. He continued drinking and soon lost his steady job. Sam always denied it but Emma was sure his father must have struck him sometimes. After all, a leopard didn’t change its spots. Child services never found any evidence and Sam only had praises to sing about his old man during his visits. Gradually her brother grew apart from her and started to hang out with the wrong crowd at school.

Gone was the happy little boy of Emma’s childhood. Over time, Sam became surly and withdrawn and didn’t want to be around her anymore. She wasn’t cool enough and was too white. He soon got expelled from high school. Then he got arrested for drug possession one summer while staying with his dad.

At juvenile hall, thank goodness he cleaned up his act and spent his free time drawing again. He mostly focused on birds he’d see from the detention center’s grounds. He got clean and sober and earned his GED. Emma taught him to drive and they soon became close again. She’d planned to help him with his college applications that Christmas. That dreaded Christmas when things had gone so wrong.

“Hey you.” Riley tapped Emma on the arm. “You have to let it go, Em. I can see the memories are killing you.”

“I know.” Emma sighed and bit her lower lip. “I just want my brother back.”

“Hang in there. Two years and he’ll be free.” Riley leaned over and gave her a much-needed hug.

“Thanks,” Emma said, glad her friend was around. She was going to miss Riley when the Doctors Without Borders group left for Vietnam. “And thanks for bringing over the takeout. You know I can’t cook for the life of me.”

“I don’t know how you can eat like that and keep your figure.” Riley’s lips curved down at the corners. “It’s so unfair. I watch everything I eat and look at me. Lucky I get to wear scrubs at work. They don’t show much.”

“At least you have curves.” Her friend had the perfect hourglass figure. “I’m like a scarecrow. All sticks and bones.”

“You look like a model and you know it.” Riley threw a pillow at her.

“Yeah. Right. I don’t even have boobs.”

“You do, too. But you should dress up more.” Riley sipped on her iced tea. “Who knows? Maybe Prince Charming is right around the corner.”

“Right.” Emma shook her head and laughed. “My warden is certainly no Prince Charming.”

“Really? That bad, huh? Old and fat? Or my favorite, balding with nose hairs?”

“No. He’s actually the opposite.” Emma made a face. “He’s very fit and kind of handsome. If you like the tall, dark, silent type.”

“Ooh.” Riley wiggled her eyebrows and shot Emma a suggestive look. “That sounds intriguing.”

“Yeah, maybe.” A shiver chased down Emma’s spine.
Darn, but the man did radiate a certain magnetism.

“So you might be interested in him?”

“His manners are atrocious.” Emma shook her head to chase away her whimsical thoughts. No way could she be attracted to such a brute. She carried the dirty dishes to the sink. “He’s too grim, Ri. I’m glad I didn’t have to face him during the initial interview.”

“Aw. Too bad he’s such an ogre. How did you get that job anyway?” Riley finished her tea. “Didn’t they do a background check or something? They don’t know Sam’s your brother, do they?”

“We have different last names. And he’s really dark-skinned. I’m white. I don’t think anybody’s going to suspect anything,” Emma said as she loaded the dishwasher. “And you know how I got the job. A lot of patience, scanning the government website every day. Finally one of their doctors retired and in I came. Lucky I just finished residency, too. I have a good resume, you know.”

“Good resume, right.” Riley scoffed. “You could have gone to Harvard. Yale. Stanford. All the academic hospitals wanted you.”

“But Sam isn’t there.”

“I know. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Of course I will. Don’t worry.” Emma poured the liquid soap into the dishwasher tray. She turned on the machine and wiped down the counter before checking the fridge.
Yum
.
Just what she was looking for
. “Want some chocolate cake?” she called over her head. “I got one from Marie Callender’s.”

“No, thanks. Those extra calories are going to kill me.” Riley glanced at her watch. “I have to go, Em. My shift starts at seven tomorrow morning. I’m the only ER doctor on. Text me if you want to chat.”

“I can’t from the prison. They told me no cell phones. They’re considered contraband in there.”

“Okay. No worries.” Riley put on her coat and grabbed her purse from the counter. “Next time, my place, okay? I’ll make sure to lock Hunter in the garage.”

“But I feel so bad you have to do that for me. I should be over it by now, don’t you think?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Riley was sympathetic as usual. “Different people have different phobias, Em. Yours happens to be dogs.”

“Not all of them. Only the monster huge ones.”

“I know. So next time, my place. Hunter will be out of sight.” Riley gave her a hug before waving good-bye and heading off.