“I have a man who refuses to follow directions to help keep the disease that just robbed him of his foot stay under control. A girl who took drugs and packed her body with more and is carrying a life that might be over before it begins. Another man whose carotid artery was slit by an exploding vape pen. I can go on, Reverend.
“Let's talk about the woman who flew into town to attend a bridal shower, got run over by a drunk driver and lost both her feet. Or the college kid whose friends thought it would be funny to give him a vodka enema. Each one of these twenty-four patients has a story. I'm sorry, but none of this is God's will." Her tone was bitter.
"Proverbs 15:1 says, ‘A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger.’ Elizabeth, you could use God's love in your life."
She turned her rolling chair, putting her back between them, her hand grabbing the receiver.
"Dr. Reed." Her head picked up. Martin was standing in front of the station. "I thought you might need this." He gave her a raspberry yogurt.
"Thank you, Mr. Bailey. I appreciate this." As she took it from him, his fingers brushed against hers. The simple touch soothed her more than any possible food. "I'll be in to see Austin in a bit."
Elizabeth opened the container, remembering the times they picked raspberries together. She closed her eyes as she swallowed a spoonful of the delicious treat.
Brookfield spun her to face him. "‘Ephesians 5:6, ‘Let no man deceive you with vain words.’"
"Reverend, you are here because some of our patients request your prayers. I am not one of them. So please, let me be." She put her back to him again.
She swallowed a few more mouthfuls before tossing the almost empty container of yogurt into the trash and walking into Austin's room with Doctors Caine and Perry. When Amanda jumped up and hugged her, Elizabeth forced her body to relax into the embrace. The hug was soon joined by Olivia.
"Marty told us. Oh, honey. We are so sorry." She became enveloped in Amanda’s arms. Her residents stayed silent.
"Thank you for saving Austin. We’re here when you're ready." Olivia piled on the hug.
Patrick coughed. "Beth, he's at full ventilation. ECMO is off. We've started warming. At six, he should be at normal temp, and I'll take him to the OR to take out the cannula."
"Thank you, Patrick. Can I ask a favor? I'm about to float. Could you watch the floor?" The Bailey sisters overwhelmed her. She needed to breathe.
"Go, before we need to call housekeeping. Doctors Caine and Perry, tell me about the plan for Sergeant Bailey."
Chapter Eleven
Talbot Reed drove up to the sprawling Dufour home. Hal Dufour, a bald man with a stomach overflowing his belt, stood talking on the phone. His wife, Cecile Moody Dufour, who was fifteen years his junior and the assistant to the director at the Silverton Department of Corrections, welcomed him into their vast living room. Always a well-groomed woman, she wore no makeup, and her blonde hair hung in straggles around her face.
"Cecile, I'm so sorry about Viola." Talbot embraced her. "She was a beautiful light, gone too soon."
"Talbot, would you like something?" Cecile offered. Another woman was sitting on a comfortable couch. The women were identical except Celine Moody McAllister dyed her hair jet black. Talbot, suave with silver hair and a fit body, had affairs with both women for years. He stopped sleeping with the third Moody triplet, Cicely, sometime earlier.
"I’m fine, sugar. You need to tell me what I can do for you?" He kissed Celine's hand. "Sorry to be with you both at such a terrible time." Hal joined them, and Talbot gave his friend a consoling hug. "Hal, I was just telling Cecile to let me know what I can do to help."
"Thank you, Talbot." Hal held his wife's hand. "We are planning Viola's funeral, visitation on Saturday and Sunday, and the service at our church followed by the burial on Monday." Hal cradled his wife.
Cecile dabbed her eyes with a linen handkerchief. "Please excuse me, I need to lie down." Celine went with her sister.
Both men rose as they left the room. "She's taking this hard. I hate her suffering this way," Talbot bemoaned.
"Elizabeth told us Viola was pregnant. For obvious reasons, I can't let anyone, most of all Elizabeth, talk about that."
“Then I need to tell you, if you pursue that lawsuit against the doctors or the hospital, the pregnancy will come out."
Hal Dufour narrowed his gaze. "My notice of intent-to-file was to scare them. But following through? Maybe?"
Tighe wrote on a whiteboard, diagramming the case. "We need to decide if Austin was the intended target. If he was, who had knowledge of Austin's position? If not, what did he stumble upon?"
"The timeline is too tight. Austin was dispatched an hour before he was found. He had to come upon something. The shooter had a short window. Three shots—they were aimed. No one hits those voids by accident. The child was found in the morning, so why did the inspection of the crime scene start so many hours later? Also, his previous caseload was innocuous," Zach outlined his thoughts.
"I ordered transmission timelines and logs from when Shaun found the child to the time Tighe arrived." Mike steepled his fingers. "I agree with you, Zach. This case is starting to stink."
The investigators sorted through all the evidence against Elizabeth next. "A lot of perfect circumstantial evidence. So much so, I don't think the DNA will be a surprise," Noah grimaced.
