Chapter Thirty-Three
It was two AM when Tuck and Duncan Mulligan walked out of the procedure room. Wes recognized the inscrutable look doctors had when they were about to deliver bad news. “She’s critical but stable for the moment,” Duncan said.
“Can I see her?” Lance Starr asked.
“Who are you?” Tuck asked, his soft drawl protective.
“Lance Starr. Ellie and I are old friends.”
“She’s still unconscious. Everyone needs to get some rest now. Even if she awakens tonight, she won’t be able to handle visitors. We will let you know if her condition changes,” Duncan said.
The group got up to leave. “Wes, we need to discuss something with you,” Tuck said.
The two medical personnel walked Wes into an empty treatment room, closed the door, turned the glass opaque and hit the noise reduction. “What’s going on?” Wes demanded.
“We know Ellie gave you a blanket healthcare proxy. I wish I knew more about her before I initiated this discussion. Do you have any medical history on her?” Duncan asked.
“She was hospitalized at fourteen after she was nearly whipped to death by her father. I’m working on getting those records. At twenty-five, she was kidnapped. She escaped after more than eight hundred days in captivity. She was found hypothermic and lying in blood. It was reported she had a miscarriage.”
“Reported?” Duncan asked.
“We believe some of her records may have been altered. We are investigating if there may have been a newborn taken,” Wes shared what he knew about Eleanor and her situation.
Tuck nodded. “When Ellie was shot, we performed a CT scan. On the scan we found a small soft tissue mass in her uterus. We discussed the situation, and she refused the work-up, becoming upset when I asked her if she’d ever been pregnant. I warned her that she could hemorrhage, especially when her period hit.”
“That’s what happened tonight?” Wes asked.
“Yes. And that leads us to our two issues. Tonight, we removed the mass and performed a D & C. We stopped the bleeding for now. When she was shot, we ran a type and screen in case she needed blood. Eleanor has what we call a rare blood type. Somewhere along the line, she required multiple transfusions, which created antibodies. That makes finding compatible blood difficult.
“Eleanor lost quite a bit of blood tonight. We have a call out to local blood banks to find compatible blood. In the meantime, we gave her washed red blood cells. The rare blood type and the tissue we removed confirm the likelihood of a previous pregnancy. Whether the child was born alive, we don’t know. Now the second issue, if she begins to bleed again, in all likelihood, the only way to stop it is to perform a hysterectomy. We need your consent.”
* * *
Dressed in an isolation gown and mask, Wes pulled up a seat beside her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead through his mask. “Hey, Curly.” He cringed at how pale she was, checking the monitors and the pulse at the base of her throat to confirm she was alive.
His conversation with the medical people played on repeat in his head.A baby.This had to be what she was protecting at risk to her life.
Deep within the copper foundry building, they found their hostage. His team, all functioning on automatic, emotions stuffed deeply, entered the room. This time, the smell of copper was from the congealed blood on the floor. From a thick wood beam, iron chains attached to thick cuffs suspended Kiara Gordon from the ground. Her chin was tucked to her chest, and her blonde hair formed a matted curtain over her face. Blood dripped onto the floor from numerous stripes where her skin was carved from her body.
“Tiny Tim, cut that chain. Ice, Farmer support her. Smooth, grab a burn sheet from my bag and help me wrap her,” Wes called to them.
Wes stood on a stool and reached for her pulse. “She’s alive. Kiara, open your eyes. You’re safe,” his tone was soft. She remained unresponsive.
“Almost through the coupling.” Rich “Tiny Tim” Parry said. A snapping sound echoed. “She’s free.”
Martin and Zach caught her as Julian wrapped her in a second burn sheet. “I’ve got her.”
The three men passed her to Wes, then guarded him as he carried Kiara, moving through the building into an alley and returning through the back door of their informant’s home. Wes laid her on the pillows and mats.
He checked her airway and listened to her chest. “She’s got a pneumonia and broken ribs.” He started an IV running fluids and antibiotics. In a second IV, he hung a unit of blood.
“Can she make it ‘til the morning?” Ian worried.
“The antibiotics will buy some time. Hornet, can you ask Mrs. Fouad for a basin of warm water? Smooth, will you help me clean her wounds?” Wes ran a medical checklist in his head.
“Sure,mon ami,” the Cajun man said.
Slowly, Wes peeled down the sheet, only exposing a little of her body at a time. Julian and he worked together to clean and apply bandages to each open wound. As they worked down her torso, it was impossible to miss she’d been sexually assaulted.
