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Read books online » Mystery & Crime » HEART AND SOUL by JUDY COLELLA (miss read books txt) 📖

Book online «HEART AND SOUL by JUDY COLELLA (miss read books txt) 📖». Author JUDY COLELLA



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the chart again, flipped through a few pages, and stood. “Let’s go through your symptoms, shall we? You weren’t exactly able to tell me anything soon after you got here.”

Xavion slid back so his feet were no longer dangling off the end of the bed – he was surprised that a hospital wouldn’t have the foresight to stock beds and stretchers for taller-than-average patients – and gave a description of how the injection had affected him. Of course, he never mentioned the injection itself. When he was done, he shrugged, gave the doctor a look of earnest expectation, and waited.

Pacing was the reaction. Not a reply expressing concern or puzzlement. Pacing. As if he was irritated. But then he sat once more and made a few notes on the final page behind the chart. “I’ll have to see if I can find some precedence for this. Until then, I won’t know how to treat it.”

“Am I all right?”

“It would appear so.”

“Then why can’t I go home?”

“Not an option, I’m afraid. I need to know what took you out like that. It’s almost as if you’d been poisoned.” He raised a brow.

Oh, shit. No…Using all the self-control he had, Xavion gave what he hoped was a casual shrug. “I don’t see how that could have happened. I mean, why would you even think something like that?”

“Because your symptoms shouldn’t have disappeared the way they did, leaving no evidence of cardiac distress. I find this very strange, indeed.”

“Can’t say I don’t agree.” Xavion gave a short, friendly-sounding laugh. It made reasonable sense that if this man was the murderer, he’d recognize poisons and substances that could debilitate someone. And there was another possibility, but he dismissed it as too bizarre. Regardless, he had to be sure the doctor only saw him as a victim of something, not someone hunting a predator. “At least I don’t need surgery, right?”

“Right. Maybe. If I discover something that indicates deeper exploration, and which can’t be detected on a scan of any kind, then yes, I’ll want to operate.”

With a nod and a crooked smile, Xavion leaned his head back against the pillows. “If you absolutely have to, but I won’t lie – the thought of heart surgery terrifies me,” he lied. “The idea of being sliced open – ” He gave a forced shudder. “Not a fan of knives, you know?”

Dr. Coel leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Nowadays, though, the more intricate surgeries are done with a laser, if that’s any comfort.”

“A laser? How does that work?”

“Well, the whole procedure is too complicated to explain in layman’s terms, but we have a special – and very, very expensive – piece of machinery that allows precision at the molecular level. And when it comes to the heart, that’s the kind of precision you want.”

“What about scarring?”

“Not as severe as the kind left by standard surgical procedures. And there’s always cosmetic surgery to fix it.” He looked like he was holding in a smirk.

“I wasn’t talking about the outside – I really don’t care about that. I mean scars on the heart tissue. I watched a program on heart transplants and blockages, and scarring was one of the concerns they mentioned.” Good one, Xav! Sounded pretty legit.

“Hmm. Yes, well, with laser surgery, as I said, it is’t as severe.” He got up once more, his smile inching toward genuine. “We’ll find out what hit you, Mr. G’Argyle, get it fixed, and send you on your way. And with luck and a good diet, we should never have to see you again, okay?”

“Okay! Thanks so much, Dr. Coel.” He purposely mispronounced it, turning the vowel into a dipthong – he knew damn well it was pronounced, “Cole.”

“My pleasure. Rest now, and be sure to let the nurse know if any of the symptoms return, even if they’re slight.”

Xavion nodded, smiling, then let the smile fade into a scowl once the doctor was gone. His biggest concern was that the police would find out he was in the hospital. If this doctor was the killer, he didn’t need to see his patient being visited by the Police Captain from the same precinct as the murders. The door, so to speak, had been left open for surgery; how easy it would be for him to die in the course of one. A slip of that laser and – oops! So sorry, but these things happen…right.

He took the hospital phone from the rolling table next to the bed, called the main number at the station, and was connected with Faragon’s office immediately.

“You solved it already?” The Captain’s eagerness was unreasonable.

“I’m in the hospital.”

“What? Are you sick?”

“No, doing research. If you hear about it, don’t come visit. I may know who is doing this, but need another day.”

“All right. We had another one last night, you know.”

“I didn’t. Who was it?”

“Remember Georgie?”

Xavion clenched his jaw. He knew Georgie. Not well, but he figured the guy had more of a chance than most in his position to get out and off the streets one day. “Yes.”

“Pity. He was lots younger than the others.”

“Hmm. I’ll call you when I’m done here.” He hung up, angry, not wanting to hear more. Freakin’ Georgie. Damn.

His need to solve the case had just turned urgent.

Five

 

“Hey! Mr. G! What happened? You crash your bike again?”

Xavion opened his eyes, his expression lighting with a smile at his visitor – Jake Carter, one of the orderlies who knew him from his many trips to the ER. “Jake. Good to see you, and no, the bike is fine.”

“But you aren’t. I was kidding about the bike – you wouldn’t be in this Unit for that, and I wouldn’t be here to cart you off for a Cardiac Scan.”

Nodding, the P.I. closed his eyes again.

“Huh. Guess they gave you something…”

“They” hadn’t, but Xavion didn’t feel like answering the cascade of questions he was sure Jake was about to ask. So he kept his eyes shut as the orderly put up the sides of the bed, lowered the head a little, took the brakes off, and tugged the bed out of the room. The only I.V. still attached was a hydrating solution, the only machinery a portable heart monitor.

The sound of the elevator door opening with a ding was followed by a brief set of bumps as the wheels went over the gap and into the paneled space. Xavion registered these events automatically, but the greater part of his mind was busy with an imaginary map he’d called up. Radiology was on the same floor as the larger ORs and if he wasn’t mistaken, they’d have to pass a number of them on the way.

He opened his eyes as the elevator dinged again, this time on the Maternity floor where three nurses got on, shuffling sideways to fit alongside his bed. His question would have to wait. Two of the nurses got off at the next floor, a doctor got on who Xavion didn’t recognize, and all of them exited at the first floor.

“Jake.”

“You’re awake again, eh?”

“Nope. Talking in my sleep.”

Jake grinned, but Xavion missed it, the orderly behind the bed now, pushing it on smooth, silent wheels down the hall.

“I may have to have surgery, and the doctor said something about a laser. You know anything about that?”

“What – laser surgery? Sure. Why?”

“I was, well, it’s kinda scary, at least to me, and I might feel better about it if I could see what the thing looked like.”

They turned a corner. “What are you asking me – to show you the laser they use? That’s a tall order, my friend.”

“I’m a tall guy.” And I don’t believe I just said that…

“Funny, Mr. G. Funny.” He chuckled. “Anyway, the room is locked where they keep the thing. Apparently, it cost more than the entire new Leukemia Center they added last year.”

“Is there a window in the door?”

Jake slowed. “You’re really freaked out at the idea, aren’t you!”

“You could say that.” But not for the reason you think.

“All right, look. Can you sit up, or stand? I’ll take the long way so we go right past the room. And yes, there’s a window.”

“I can get up. Thanks, Jake. I appreciate this more than I can say.” Knowing what the machine looked like wasn’t what mattered – he needed to see the details of room access, security, personnel presence, things like that. A daily schedule of the machine’s use, as well as information on who had clearance to even go in there, would be nice to have as well. Not holding out much hope for that list, he nonetheless prepared himself to process as much as he could with his eyes.

They took a series of hallways, each one quieter than the last, it seemed, until they went through a double door that opened only when Jake swiped his i.d. card in a slotted security pad on the wall nearby. This part of the hospital looked deserted, but behind one of the doors, Xavion detected the electronic blips of monitors and a low murmur of one or two voices. They were passing one of the larger operating rooms; three doors beyond this, Jake slowed, bringing the bed to a halt a few feet from a wide, windowed door.

“This it?”

“Yup. Can you get up – oh, guess so. Hey, watch your I.V., dude!”

“Right.” Xavion had slid off the side of the bed after shifting around past the railing, and then stared into the room. The window was set high in the door, but because of his height, this posed no problem. Slipping a hand behind the cloth of his hospital gown, he tried turning the knob, moving a bit to hide what he was doing from Jake.

Locked. As expected.

From this limited vantage, he could see a bank of machines on the wall facing him, at the end of which was a device that looked like it had been imported from another planet. Similar to an MRI in general contour, it had an opening that was larger and had what appeared to be a complex system of lights inside. Turning his gaze left, he took in the corner of a counter with cabinets hung above – a place to keep and set out medications or small surgical equipment, perhaps. Okay. On the right side of the room, or as far to the right as he could see, was a window, the rows of seats on its other side barely visible beyond the reflection on the glass from the room’s bluish lighting. Observation room?

Cameras – he saw one in each corner within his view, and assumed there were two more in the other corners. He also noted that on the surface of the laser machine was a small slot that looked like it would fit a key of some kind. Which meant the machine couldn’t simply be switched on. Whoever was using it had to have clearance and keys to both the door and the machine.

Backing away, he glanced up and saw – no surprise – cameras trained at the door and as he got back onto the bed, more cameras down the hall, all of which were facing him at the moment. Whatever. He had a legitimate excuse for being there, one

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