Dodds was silent. She felt a sudden wave of nausea knock through her.
“You’re wrong about me. And there’s still a killer out there and somebody was standing in my damned flower beds looking into my house-after Christine was killed!” She knew she was over the top. She didn’t care. “Now, you either arrest me, or let me out at the hospital, because a patient needs me.”
They were pulling into the ER parking lot. “Don’t go far,” he said. “I know how to find you. When you’re done, come down to the basement. You know where.”
***
Cheryl Beth padded along on the new, heavy-duty carpet of the hallway into Four-East. It was already looking ratty. She was surprised to see Denise there, away from her usual floor.
“Angela was sick, so they moved me over at the last minute,” Denise said. “I’m sorry to get you up here, baby girl. I called his doc and he said to call you. It’s a compliment, really.”
“Right.” Cheryl Beth looked around the chart caddy for the paperwork. As often happened, the chart was missing. She squinted at the white board, which gave a basic rundown of the patient and his meds.
“Sorry,” Denise said. “This station is a mess. Blunt chest trauma as a result of an auto accident. Chest tube. It’s been in for a week and he’s really hurting. Why are your hands shaking?”
Cheryl Beth stripped off her coat and sat heavily, studying her hands. They never shook. But a tremble ran through both. She knotted them into fists and it stopped. “The cops don’t think Lennie is the killer,” she said.
“What?”
“That’s what I said. But it gets worse. This one detective, he’s acting like I’m a suspect. Denise, I could get fired and blackballed. Stephanie Ott already hates me. I don’t know what to do.” She folded her arms across her chest, feeling her breasts through the soft fabric of her scrubs. They were softer now. Her body was becoming a stranger in middle age. She looked up at Denise. “It looks bad on the surface. The thing with Gary…”
“I know.” She said it low and sympathetically, but Cheryl Beth angrily waved her hands.
“Everybody in this fucking hospital knows!” She brought her voice down. “Sorry. Sorry.” She held her hands out and they were steady. “Let’s get to work.”
“Baby girl, nobody could think you had anything to do with it. That’s crazy. I was with you that night. I gave you the message to go down there.”
“That would play well before a jury,” Cheryl Beth said, laughing ruefully. “Did you take Christine’s call that night?”
