Red Hot BOX SET: Complete Series 1-4: A Patrick & Steeves Suspense Read Free Page A

It looked like every other emergency department she’d had the misfortune to be in.
    She stepped up to the empty admissions desk and rang the bell. Behind the cement divider, someone shuffled around and rustled plastic. She tapped the bell again. A head of curly black hair and jet black eyes poked out. “I’ll be right there,” the woman snapped.
    Em gazed over the chairs and collected patients again. Everyone awake was watching her. When she glanced over, they looked away - to the floor or to the TV blaring in the far corner. She tapped her foot, adrenalin still pumping. She’d been on high-alert for the last few hours and standing still wasn’t working for her.
    “Senora,” she called. “I just need to know where to find a patient.”
    “Hang on,” came the reply. Thirty seconds later, a rotund woman in a faded peach uniform ambled back to the desk, wiping flakes of Doritos from her lips. She squinted her disapproval at Emily, dropped her large frame into the battered black chair and rolled it to the desk. “Who are you looking for?”
    “Sandal Steeves. He’s an American.”
    “The explosion guy. He’s down the hall. I’ll page the doctor.” Grabbing the phone, she punched in a couple of numbers. Her voice squawked through the loud-speakers overhead.
    “How is he?” Em asked. “I don’t have any information about his condition or even what happened.”
    “Wait over there.” She lifted her chin to indicate the chairs near the hallway and focused on the papers before her on the desk. Emily had been dismissed.
    Ignoring the chairs, she paced the open area near the hallway and craned her neck to see down the hall. Damn, if only Jack had told her something more. She was drowning in a vacuum of information. She hoped the doctor could fill her in.
    She’d had some time to think in the car and figured that once she knew what his condition was, she needed to get in touch with his family. That would be job one. Next, she would get in touch with Jack again.
    “Miss…?” The doctor appeared at her side. So much for being vigilant.
    “Patrick. Emily Patrick.” She extended her arm and shook hands with the doctor. He was probably the same age as her father and Jack, but striking to look at. Intelligent blue eyes lit up his face, and just a touch of gray at the temples lent him an extra air of distinction.
    “I’m Dr. Rodriguez.”
    “I’m here from the Embassy for Mr. Steeves. How is he?”
    “Sit, please.” He indicated a spot and waited for her to sit before lowering himself into the chair beside her. “Mr. Steeves’s injuries aren’t life-threatening,” he said, and as an afterthought added, “Do you know him?”
    “I don’t,” she said. “The Embassy sent me.”
    “Oh.” He leaned back in his chair and gave her a closer look. Emily figured they were thinking the same thing. Normally a family member would show up, not someone from the Embassy. She wondered again about Mr. Steeves. “Well,” he said, leaning forward and holding her gaze, “how much do you know about the accident?”
    “Nothing, Doctor. If you could fill me in, I’d be grateful.”
    He nodded. “I just know what I’ve been told. The person who called 9-1-1 told the operator Mr. Steeves ran into a burning truck. He got the driver out, but then the truck blew up.”
    “Did anyone die?”
    “Both men in the truck died. Mr. Steeves is suffering from typical flash explosion injuries. He has some light burns, his hearing has been affected - we don’t know yet to what extent - and his vision is quite blurry.” He rested the chart he’d consulted in his lap and folded his hands over it. “And his respiratory system has been affected. Somewhat by the smoke we think, but mostly the pressure from the blast.”
    “You mean he’s having trouble breathing?” It was important that she understand everything so she could adequately relay the information to his family. She wondered how much detail she should give them when