through the endless hours of waiting.
As Jean marched purposefully down the hall toward the ICU, the throngs of people blocking the hallway parted like the Red Sea before her as she resolutely walked through.
“Damn him” she raged under her breath. For at least the tenth time this month, she asked herself why she continued to put up with Manny’s inability to comprehend even the rudimentary basics of what it took to have a relationship. As near as she could tell, this guy had reached his full maturity in high school as far as his dealings with women and was never going to change. He obviously didn’t have a clue and the sooner she accepted that, the better. Distracted by her frustration with Rivera, she stepped just past Room 17, realized her mistake, spun on her heel and forcefully shoved the heavy wooden door open.
She startled both herself and the doctor who was leaning over the patient adjusting his pillow. “Oh. I’m sorry to barge in….” The words caught in her throat as she suddenly took in the sight of a doctor she had never seen before. He was wearing a lab coat from the hospital that barely contained his muscular bulk. The unshaven face, the crude black tattoos on his forearm barely visible under the sleeves of the coat all screamed that something was very wrong.
Completely frozen in shock, she was like a rabbit suddenly confronting a rattlesnake. She stumbled backed against the white plaster wall as he stepped closer and exposed a toothy grin containing some of the worst dental work she had ever seen. No time to dwell on that as he almost gently grabbed the front of her scrub uniform, mumbled something with his rancid breath like “Es gonna be OK.,” and slammed her head with such force into the wall that the IV bottles fell off the bed side stand and shattered on the linoleum floor. Jean knew none of this as her world faded to black and she crumpled unconscious to the floor. Without a second glance, her assailant picked up the pillow and turned his full attention back to the unconscious man lying on the bed.
CHAPTER 5
The harsh jangling and vibration of his cell phone jolted Rivera out of his reverie. He realized he had been dozing in the humid warmth of the ER waiting room. An old wrinkled prune of a woman graced him with a silent look of reproach and nodded solemnly at the No Cell Phone sign hanging askew on the wall. Rivera nodded politely at her, decided he would probably go to hell for what he was thinking about a woman who was certainly old enough to be his Grandmother, and thumbed the TALK button on the phone.
“What?”
“Damn, you’re in a great mood this morning,” said Zapata, a senior detective who worked with Rivera in the Criminal Investigation Unit.
“Screw you, and what the hell do you want? I’ve been sitting here for three hours in this shit hole and I’ve got work to do. You ever get out from behind that desk you’re so fond of and you might actually learn something about that.”
“Chill the attitude and listen up. This is important. It’s about your John Doe,” said Zapata with an ominous tone in his voice that Rivera had rarely heard in their many years together.
“OK, so who is he?” asked Rivera.
“No idea on that yet-still a mystery, but we just got a call from a patrol unit responding to another 911 call in same alley a couple of hours ago. Some cook for a Chinese buffet was taking out the morning trash-found a dead chick dropped off in the dumpster out back. Of course, he totally freaked out and started screaming for help in Chinese. Judging from the way her neck was flopping at an angle God never intended, it looks like some big bastard snapped her neck. Other than that, we don’t know much. Too much blood to tell what else happened to her.”
“Got to go,” yelled Rivera as he slammed the phone closed and sprinted to the rear doors of the ICU. It was only a couple of long hallways to the Intensive Care Unit and Rivera mentally cursed himself
As Jean marched purposefully down the hall toward the ICU, the throngs of people blocking the hallway parted like the Red Sea before her as she resolutely walked through.
“Damn him” she raged under her breath. For at least the tenth time this month, she asked herself why she continued to put up with Manny’s inability to comprehend even the rudimentary basics of what it took to have a relationship. As near as she could tell, this guy had reached his full maturity in high school as far as his dealings with women and was never going to change. He obviously didn’t have a clue and the sooner she accepted that, the better. Distracted by her frustration with Rivera, she stepped just past Room 17, realized her mistake, spun on her heel and forcefully shoved the heavy wooden door open.
She startled both herself and the doctor who was leaning over the patient adjusting his pillow. “Oh. I’m sorry to barge in….” The words caught in her throat as she suddenly took in the sight of a doctor she had never seen before. He was wearing a lab coat from the hospital that barely contained his muscular bulk. The unshaven face, the crude black tattoos on his forearm barely visible under the sleeves of the coat all screamed that something was very wrong.
Completely frozen in shock, she was like a rabbit suddenly confronting a rattlesnake. She stumbled backed against the white plaster wall as he stepped closer and exposed a toothy grin containing some of the worst dental work she had ever seen. No time to dwell on that as he almost gently grabbed the front of her scrub uniform, mumbled something with his rancid breath like “Es gonna be OK.,” and slammed her head with such force into the wall that the IV bottles fell off the bed side stand and shattered on the linoleum floor. Jean knew none of this as her world faded to black and she crumpled unconscious to the floor. Without a second glance, her assailant picked up the pillow and turned his full attention back to the unconscious man lying on the bed.
CHAPTER 5
The harsh jangling and vibration of his cell phone jolted Rivera out of his reverie. He realized he had been dozing in the humid warmth of the ER waiting room. An old wrinkled prune of a woman graced him with a silent look of reproach and nodded solemnly at the No Cell Phone sign hanging askew on the wall. Rivera nodded politely at her, decided he would probably go to hell for what he was thinking about a woman who was certainly old enough to be his Grandmother, and thumbed the TALK button on the phone.
“What?”
“Damn, you’re in a great mood this morning,” said Zapata, a senior detective who worked with Rivera in the Criminal Investigation Unit.
“Screw you, and what the hell do you want? I’ve been sitting here for three hours in this shit hole and I’ve got work to do. You ever get out from behind that desk you’re so fond of and you might actually learn something about that.”
“Chill the attitude and listen up. This is important. It’s about your John Doe,” said Zapata with an ominous tone in his voice that Rivera had rarely heard in their many years together.
“OK, so who is he?” asked Rivera.
“No idea on that yet-still a mystery, but we just got a call from a patrol unit responding to another 911 call in same alley a couple of hours ago. Some cook for a Chinese buffet was taking out the morning trash-found a dead chick dropped off in the dumpster out back. Of course, he totally freaked out and started screaming for help in Chinese. Judging from the way her neck was flopping at an angle God never intended, it looks like some big bastard snapped her neck. Other than that, we don’t know much. Too much blood to tell what else happened to her.”
“Got to go,” yelled Rivera as he slammed the phone closed and sprinted to the rear doors of the ICU. It was only a couple of long hallways to the Intensive Care Unit and Rivera mentally cursed himself
Similar Books
Giving Up the Ghost
Phoebe Rivers
Wanderlust
Heather C. Hudak
Accidental Father
Nancy Robards Thompson
Guess Who I Pulled Last Night?
Nikki Ashton
Billy Hooten
Tom Sniegoski
Children of Enchantment
Anne Kelleher Bush
Liaison
Natasha Knight
The Finishing School
Michele Martinez
Brother Thief (Song of the Aura, Book One)
Gregory J. Downs
The Unbinding
Walter Kirn