Melinda walked around the desk and checked the computer database, but she didn’t learn anything more than the other nurse. “With so many people out, housekeeping stuff like putting information into the database isn’t taking priority right now. Let me see if I can find the hardcopy files.”
Her friend disappeared into a big room behind the nurse’s station then came back a few minutes later, two files in her hand and a glum look on her face.
Lexi’s stomach plummeted. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, Lexi, but neither patient made it,” Melinda said gently.
She shook her head. “That can’t be right. They’d only had minor injuries—a broken leg and lacerations. There’s no way they could have died from those.”
Melinda set the files down on the desk and opened each of them. “According to the doctor’s notes, Jessie Strickland died of an aneurysm brought on by overuse of methamphetamine. Debra Wallace had a congenital heart defect thatled to a heart attack.”
Lexi glanced at the files. Sure enough, that’s what they said. “That can’t be right. I hooked Debra up to a cardiac monitor and ran an EKG before the other team of paramedics brought her in, and she had no arrhythmia of any kind. Jessie didn’t show a single symptom associated with an aneurysm or meth use.”
Melinda’s eyes were sad. “Honey, I know what you did to save those two, but they still didn’t make it. Sometimes, that happens.”
Lexi stood there, emotions warring inside her. Sorrow, depression, confusion, and anger all fighting to see which one would come out on top. Finally, anger won out.
“Who was the ER doctor who treated them? I want him—or her—to look me in the face and tell me how Jessie and Debra died.”
Her friend hesitated for a moment then sighed and flipped through the files until she found the name Lexi was looking for. “It was the same doctor in both cases—Dr. Harold Patton.”
Lexi frowned. “Wasn’t he the same doctor on duty the night Wayne Moore died?”
“Yes,” Melinda said. “But that’s not shocking. Patton works more shifts than I do. He’s here practically every night.”
Melinda might not think it was strange, but it seemed damn suspicious to Lexi. “Is he here now? I want to talk to him.”
It was obviously from the look on Melinda’s face she thought that was a bad idea, but her friend finally nodded. “You can probably find him in the doctor’s lounge on the second floor, trying to grab a nap.”
“Thanks.”
Melinda opened her mouth to say something, but Lexi didn’t hang around to listen. Instead, she hurried to the elevator. She was going to find Patton and get some answers as to how two perfect healthy people had died so suddenly.
By the time she got to the doctor’s lounge, however, some of her fire had dissipated as she realized she had no idea exactly what she was going to say to the man. She pushed open the door anyway, hoping something would come to mind.
The room was dark and, for a moment, she thought it was empty. Then she saw the man sitting on the couch staring at the wall on the far side of the room.
“Dr. Patton?”
“What do you want?” he demanded, not looking at her. “I told the nurses I didn’t want to be bothered unless there was an emergency.”
She walked into the room and turned on the light.
Patton held up one hand, shielding his eyes from the sudden brightness. “Shit. What’d you do that for?”
Lexi ignored the question. “Dr. Patton, my name is Lexi Fletcher. I’m a paramedic with DF&R. I brought in two patients Tuesday night, and now they’re both dead. I was hoping you could tell me what happened.”
He leaned his head back on the couch and rested his forearm across his eyes. “Their hearts stopped beating, I assume. That’s the way death usually occurs.”
A shiver went through her at his words. She shook it off and stepped closer. “I looked at Debra Wallace’s EKG myself before I brought her in, and there was noarrhythmia like her record suggests.”
She would have explained that Jessie Strickland showed no signs of drug use, or impending aneurysm, but a low, sarcastic laugh cut her off.
“That’s funny,” Patton sneered. “A paramedic telling me I can’t read a heart trace.”
“I was pre-med in college—”
“Fucking goody for you.” He jumped to his feet so fast, she took a startled step back. “Why don’t you come back and talk to me again after you finish med school and your residency? Then, maybe I’ll give a shit about what you have to say.”
