355 500 произведений, 25 200 авторов.

Электронная библиотека книг » Lori Turner » Lovers and Reprisals » Текст книги (страница 5)
Lovers and Reprisals
  • Текст добавлен: 7 октября 2016, 11:57

Текст книги "Lovers and Reprisals"


Автор книги: Lori Turner



сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

His musing was interrupted when a voice rose above his inner thoughts.

“I got a line in her and I’m running normal saline wide open.  Her pulse is thready and the fluid doesn’t seem to be affecting her volume.  Something has to give because at the rate she’s bleeding–it’s like covering several holes with one bandaid and at this rate–she’s bound to bleed out.  She needs a transfusion–and I mean fast.”

The other tech said...

“Do what you can–but it doesn’t get any better on my end.  I don’t like the look of this scan.  She’s got multiple fractures–and based on her dipping blood pressure–I’ll bet you a million bucks, she’s got internal bleeding.”

Above their voices, Lucien heard someone say...

“Some morning–huh”

Lucien’s concentration had been broken by an officer.  He wondered at what point had he joined the mayhem–and why was he bothering him.

“You’re one of the Delors–right?”

“Yes–Lucien.  Lucien Delors.”  He said.

“Yeah–I thought so.  I recognized the logo on the chopper–and the van.  Was that your pilot who made the call?”

“Yes–it didn’t appear that anyone was helping this young woman–so I instructed him to land.  I hope that wasn’t a problem.”

“Oh no–no problem at all.  Actually, I wanted to thank you.  We–that is–we being the police force–we appreciate good citizens doing their part.  But it’s funny.”

Lucien furrowed his brow.  He didn’t see anything worth laughing at.

The officer said...

“She’s a Samaritan–a young woman, and you hardly ever see them out on their own.  Where are the other members of her Sect?  I’m just asking–but I don’t suspect it’ll matter because the detective said that the Samaritan’s hardly ever sue–and I’ve never witnessed them complaining about anything.”

“Perhaps now isn’t the time to think about lawsuits or who might be blamed.  As you said–she’s here alone–and that’s highly unusual.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Lucien stood back to get a better look.  In the distance he could see that one of his families solicitors had arrived, and the driver wasn’t talking.  From where he stood, to him it appeared like the driver had finally calmed down.

Lucien said...

“I’ve instructed the driver of the van to cooperate.”

“Sure, sure.”  The police officer said, then he continued...and Lucien wondered if the man had heard him because his comment picked up on an earlier thought.

“You know–today is a holiday.  I wonder if her family knows that she’s hurt.”

His chest tightened when he said...

“I doubt it.”  Lucien continued....”Maybe you should contact the Samaritan Conclave.  That might be a good place to start.  Maybe if you send them a picture–I’m sure they’ll be able to identify her, and contact her family.”

Lucien watched as the officer nodded, but he didn’t move to make the call.  To make matters worse, his ears pricked when he heard the medical technicians arguing.

“She’s a Samaritan–and that means that we have to follow certain protocols.”

“But we’re close to Midtown General–we could have her there in less than ten minutes.”

“She’s a Samaritan Quin.  Look–I know that you’re agnostic and you may not give a damn about her Sect or her Creed–but some of us do.  I’m may not be a Samaritan but I am a Christian and I do respect the beliefs of others.  Samaritan’s follow a strict set of rules and–this group of people are devout in their beliefs.  I’m telling you–they cannot step foot in a hospital, unless it’s a Samaritan hospital.  And that limits her choices because the only Samaritan Hospital in this area is located on the Samaritan barge in the harbor.  It’s their rule man–and I’m not going to break it.”

The other tech protested saying,

“That place is more than thirty minutes away–plus, they aren’t equipped to deal with traumatic injuries.”

Lucien couldn’t believe what he was hearing–they were quibbling over religion, Sect Creeds, distances and beliefs.  Whatever happened to discussions that involve the obvious.  Topics like–life and commonsense.  Clearly, this woman was in urgent need of professional medical care–and from where he stood, there was no debating this fact.  He stared at the wires and tubes attached to her body, then he asked himself; would this be enough–or would all their work be in vain?  Lucien looked at the police officer.  He felt compelled to say....

“Look–this was a street accident, and as such, doesn’t that make you the authority in this situation?  If this lady’s injuries require that she be transported to the facility best suited to meet her needs–can’t you override them?  I mean–according to the law–it is her legal right to have the best and safest care.  And...when she wakes up, you’ll need to talk to her–and you can’t do that if she’s dead.”

The officer scratched his head, then he said...

“Well–yes, I guess you’re right–but she is a Samaritan.”

It was clear that this was the sticky point, and the officer and one of the medical technicians weren’t willing to bend.  But as far as Lucien was concerned, in this situation, her religious belief wasn’t a consideration.  Since it had been his families van that took part in this accident–he felt a duty to right things–it would be the just thing to do.

The two techs were busy strapping their injured patient to the stretcher.  They stood at either end, then lifted her for transport.  One of the techs spoke on a headset, reporting on his patients status, while the other positioned the stretcher to the receiving in of the air-transport.  If Lucien was going to intervene, he would have to do or say something now.

Lucien said...

“Officer–may I make a suggestion.  Clearly–this woman needs immediate care–which includes being taken to the closest medical facility.  And I don’t mean Midtown General, like the technician had suggested.  She needs to be taken to Lincoln Medical Facility”

“Lincoln Medical Facility?!”  the officer nearly choked when he repeated the hospital’s name.  “But–that place is a private hospital–and I mean private, private.  I work for the city–and I’m not even allowed to enter the lobby.  Hell, at that place–I couldn’t afford a bandaid for a cut, even if my life depended on it.”

“It is a private hospital–but it’s also the best place for this young woman to be.”

Lucien didn’t want to debate prejudices and how some viewed his wealth as a form of class separation.  Lincoln Medical was a private hospital that catered to the super rich.  Most families owned suites, departments, and some owned entire wings.

The officer stared at him, perplexed, then he said...

“Look, I’m no doctor–but if you think Lincoln will accept her–I’ll agree with whatever is best.”

“Good” Lucien said. “...and I appreciate your help.”

The officer nodded–mainly because he couldn’t think of anything worthwhile to say.

When Lucien approached the medical chopper, he chose to talk to the wiser of the two men.  The tech who’d seemed to grasp the seriousness of this situation.

“Where are you taking her?”  Lucien asked

“To the Samaritan dock.  From there–the Samaritan ferry will meet us, and then they’ll transport her to the hospital located on their barge.”

“But–that could take more than half an hour.  I thought you said that she needs blood.”

“Yep–you heard me right.”

The tech pushed a button and the stretcher began a slow glide into the rear of the transport.  Lucien touched his shoulder, causing the man’s brow to raise.

“Change of plans.”  Lucien said...

“Excuse me?”

“I said change of plans...”

“You might be wearing white–and since it’s the dead of winter, that can only mean that you’re on your way to the White Ball.”  he glared when he added... “I get it–you’re rich–but you don’t get to decide what happens here.”

Lucien calmly said...

“I didn’t insult you–and you needn’t insult me.”

The tech smirked saying...

“Look man...unlike you–I work for a living–real work–not pushing buttons or shuffling papers.  Just because you’re rich, I don’t have to take bullshit from you.  So get on the curb with the rest of the gawkers.”

Lucien felt a presence behind him and he didn’t have to turn to confirm his suspicions.  He could see by the technicians expression, that more than likely Caesar and the police officer were standing at his rear.  He quirked a smile, then he said...

“Look–my family owns a wing at Lincoln Medical Facility.  You’re going to get on the phone, call Lincoln Medical and tell them to prepare a bed for a guest of Lucien Delors.  You tell them to do whatever it takes to save this woman’s life.  Is that clear?”

Lucien eyed the other tech, because he’d joined them halfway through his monologue–and they each looked like they need to clear their ears.  Lincoln Medical Facility was the place to go if you wanted to receive the best of care.  They only used the latest and most advanced equipment.  Their diagnostic facility blew every other hospital out of the water and every patient was cared for by a private staff, whose job it was to cater to their patients every whim, desire and need.  The amenities were many and no stone was left uncovered when it came to being the best.  Lucien supposed that this, explained the deafening silence.  After a few agonizing heartbeats, the officer finally said...

“Which one of you is making this call–you or you?”

He pointed at both men, then Caesar said...

“Come on guys–stop stalling”

The technician touched his ear piece, while bobbing his head...

“Dispatch–put me through to Lincoln Medical Facility.  Yeah–you heard me right–Lincoln Medical Facility.  And before they get on the line–tell them to roll out the red carpet–courtesy of Lucien Delors” he nodded at something he’d heard from dispatch, then replied saying...

“Tell them, we’re in bound, and reroute the data transmission from the Samaritan Hospital, since she won’t be going there.  Instead–send the information to Lincoln Medical Facility.  And tell them–we’ll keep them updated throughout the flight.”

Lucien turned to Caesar, then he said,,,

“Change of plans.”

“I sorta figured that out.”  Caesar said...  “You gonna call your family–or should I break the news?”

“Neither...”  Lucien said.  They stood back as the medical transport hovered overhead, then glided over three city blocks.  While they walked over to the chopper, Lucien said...

“It’s the holiday, and I don’t see the wisdom in worrying my family.  I’m sure they’ll tell me to let the solicitor handle this...but I don’t agree.  I think this situation requires hands on involvement from a Delors’.  And since I’m here–and I’m sort of a witness–I see no need to bother anyone else with this problem.”

“I get your point boss...but do you think that your family will feel any better if you decide to blowoff the rest of the day?  I’m just saying...being a no show is a guaranteed way to seed worry and concern”

“Yes–you’re right.”

Lucien knew that his pilot was right. Before he left the Ball, he’d promised Chantel that he would return.

“Damn”

He cursed.  He didn’t want to worry his family–but he also knew that he would not abandon that woman.  He had a responsibility and he accepted, if he called home, no amount of reasoning would suffice.

They were flying overhead when clarity hit him and this answer was his only recourse.  He lifted his phone, then pressed her number.  After several rings, the phone was answered.

“Eliza Pendleton...”  In the background, a chorus of sounds filled the receiver, making hearing her difficult.

Lucien spoke loud enough to be heard over the noise.

“Eliza...this is Lucien...did I catch you at a bad time?”

Eliza and Lucien had been friends for years, and before taking the job at the Governors office, she’d been on retainer for a subsidiary controlled by one of the Delors holding companies.  He could barely hear her when she responded.

“You know me Lucien.  Since the crack of dawn, I’ve been making the rounds with the governor, and a few of his cabinet members.”

There was a strange tone in her voice.  A sadness that he heard, the longer she talked.

“Actually, the governor is leaving now, and I’m heading for the door–then, after a quick stop at my hotel, I’ll change into my white gown, then, I plan to spend the remainder of my day at your family’s White Ball.”

This was exactly what he’d expected.  He could hear the lessening of sounds and he assumed, that maybe she’d found a quiet room to talk and continue their conversation.

“If you’re calling me...I take it that you’re not at your family’s house.  What’s wrong?”

“There’s a problem Eliza–and I need your help.  But..., first...I have to ask; are you all right?  You sound like there’s something wrong on your end.”

There was silence and he didn’t venture to make sense of it.  Lucien could hear muffled party noises but as for Eliza; he couldn’t even hear the rise and fall of her breaths.  A few seconds passed, when he broke the silence.

“Eliza...talk to me.  What’s wrong?”

“Lucien...didn’t you just say that you needed my help.”

“Yes...but...”

“No buts.  You know me.  I know how to separate my life from my job.”

“But, Eliza...you don’t work for me anymore.  This favor is from one friend to the other–and what I’m hearing in your voice leads me to believe that you need a friend right now.”

Eliza sighed heavily when she offloaded her troubles.

“I just found out that a friend of mines took his own life.”

“Oh no, Eliza.  I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Yes... so was I.  But...well, what’s done is done and I can’t change what happened.”

Lucien strained to hear because  he thought he heard a sniffle.  Eliza said...

“So...what’s that favor.”

“Eliza...after what you’ve just shared...I couldn’t possibly impose upon you.”

“Please Lucien....I want to help.  I need to keep busy.”

Eliza was a workaholic and when she’d worked for him, one of her responsibilities had been crisis management.  As far as he knew; she worked for the governor in the same capacity.  But...he couldn’t pretend that she had not been affected by the death of her friend.  Then Lucien wondered if this person had been a mutual friend.

Trying to be tactful, he asked...

“Was this person a close friend?”

Eliza paused before answering and truthfully, she was heartbroken.

“Yes...we were close but when I last saw him...we parted ways–and feelings were hurt.  I never had the chance to say that I was sorry–and now...well, I guess he’ll never know that I’d forgiven him.”

“I’m so sorry Eliza...look...no worries.  I’ll handle this.”

“Lucien...you know me.  Work is my brand of medicine.  Hell...I’ve got a long day ahead of me...and the governor is expecting me to escort him to your family’s White Ball.”

“Did you tell him about your friend’s death.”

“No...and when you see him this evening...you won’t mention it either.  Do you understand?”

He nodded while saying...

“Of course.  I’d never do anything that might compromise you or your job.”

“Thanks Lucien.”

“For what...?”

“For being you.  For being a good friend.”

Eliza’s voice switched to a commanding voice.  She sounded like she was rounding up her troops and preparing to head out into battle.

“So...what’s the favor?  Today has been one party after the next–the governor is behaving, and his aids are being perfect angel’s.  I’m a problem solver and these people aren’t giving me anything to work with.”

“All right...but are you sure.”

“Yes...I’m sure.”  She said without a seconds hesitation.

Lucien confided in his friend, explaining about the accident–and the woman being admitted to his family’s private hospital wing.  Passing his responsibility off on Eliza was a cowards move–but, he knew this news would be best received coming from anyone, other than himself.  He thought about this as he walked through the hospital’s entrance.  He rode the elevator to the fourteenth floor, and when he stepped off, he was greeted by Dr. Hazzar.

“Hello Mr. Delors–you were right to send that young lady here.”

“Where is she?”

“Being prepped for surgery.”

“Will she make it–I mean–will she live?”

“To soon to say.  After I reviewed the records, it became clear to me that precious minutes had been lost.  Had she arrived even five minutes earlier–those few extra minutes could have made the difference in her outcome.”

Dr. Hazzar sighed, then he said...

“But she’s here now–and we’ll do our best.”

“Thank You Dr. Hazzar.”

The doctor strolled down a hall completely devoid of patients and in that instant Lucien had to wonder–what was the good of having money when he couldn’t save this woman?  He owned an entire hospital wing, for goodness-sake; but in the big scheme of things owning this possession didn’t really matter–and it wouldn’t change that young woman’s outcome.  Time–that’s what Dr. Hazzar had said she’d needed–time and he’d stood by watching while the tech’s wasted precious seconds debating what amounted to her fate.  He’d been a part of the problem; the Delors van had hit her–and the moment he arrived on the scene, he should have told Caesar to call Lincoln’s medical evac-team. If he’d called, she would have had the best doctors and nurses money could buy; not the medical techs employed by the city.  Lucien would blame himself if she died.

“You’ve got to live.”  He mouthed the words, causing a passing nurse to question him.

“I’m sorry Mr. Delors–were you talking to me?”

He shook his head, then he said...

“No...I was talking to myself–but I didn’t answer.”

She smiled, then said...

“Can I get you a cup of tea?  I understand that we might receive a patient on your family’s wing–a guest, I’ve been told.”

Lucien nodded but he couldn’t get that one word out of his head–might.  She’d said that they might receive a patient.  He waved his hand, then said...

“No tea–but thank you for offering.  If anyone is looking for me–I’ll be in the waiting room.”

Lucien turned, wanting more than anything to be alone.  He didn’t deal well with crisis–and this was his first time waiting to learn if a person had lived or died.  Oh God, he prayed.  Please–don’t let her die.

“I don’t even know her name.”  He said.

Lucien reached in his pant pocket.  When he pulled out the band, a wash of shame overtook him.  This was evidence and possibly a means of identifying the young woman.  While he’d been talking to the street cop, he should have given the band to him–but he didn’t; largely because he couldn’t.  This fabric was a tangible connection to her–the beautiful broken dove.  The Samaritan woman who’d compelled him in ways no other woman ever had.  Lucien closed his eyes, and his thoughts went to Marisela.  His sister had been right.  For years, he’d noticed her friends attention and the way she flirted and always complimented him, over other men.  Marisela was lovely, poised, attractive, and any man would be lucky to have her.  Lucien opened his hand, and he examined the black band, twisting it using his thumb.  He was sure this band belonged to a man–and the idea pained his stomach.  Samaritan's never married outside of their Sect–and he knew this.  But–Lucien couldn’t help himself.  Some part of him wanted this woman to be single–and it didn’t matter that the idea went counter to every idea that governed his and her life.

He flipped his wrist, checking the time and he wondered if her surgery had begun.

“Be all right.  Please–be all right.”  He said...because for now–more than anything, it didn’t matter if she was single or married to the owner of the black band.  For now, Lucien would give anything if it meant that his broken dove would survive.

**********

Chapter 6

6:58 PM

Samaritan Commune

Zachary and Aldeara Zelle’s home

“How many times does he have to repeat himself mom?  He went back to the Conclave and Ona wasn’t there.  She wasn’t there and she wasn’t anywhere in the area.”

Caleb was the Zelle’s adopted son, and he’d lived with them since he was twelve.  Before joining their family, he’d lived a life of wealth and privilege.  After his parents had been killed in an unexplained accident, through the generosity of the Zelle’s; Caleb had been taken in, then adopted into their family.  That had been eighteen years ago, and still he found it difficult adjusting to Samaritan customs, rules and practices.  For him, being a Samaritan, living alongside a modern world; the idea was maddening, as well as an extreme contradiction in terms.

Zachary Zelle held up his hand, appealing for silence.  In a compromising voice he said...

“We’re only asking to be sure.  In this situation, there are any number of reasons that would explain Ona’s tardiness–and we wouldn’t want to ignore either of them.”

Caleb was exhausted.  The second Noah arrived at their parents home alone, he’d had misgivings and he wanted to know what had happened to Ona.  When his protective instincts kicked in, every emotion surface unchecked.  He hadn’t meant to raise his voice but he’d never been known for his even temperament.  Besides, he was convinced that something else was at play, and his intuition told him that his sister was in trouble.  So, he stirred the hornet’s nest, trying to shake some sense into this situation.

Noah scanned the room.  His eyes rested on his adopted brother, pleading for serenity.  He didn’t speak until he was sure that Caleb would still his tongue and when his brother stumped across the room, taking a seat at the dinner table, Noah cleared his voice, then he calmly addressed his mother.

“The last time I saw Ona, she was happy and heading into the Conclave chambers.  We’d agreed to meet at the dock.  Geff and I waited, until the last ferry arrived.  We didn’t want to leave, not knowing where she was, so I called the Conclave to find out what was delaying her departure.”

Noah’s expression became strained.  When Ona had not arrived, he’d pleaded with the boat-master to wait while he returned to the Conclave to gather his sister.  It was decided that Geff would search the areas surrounding the dock, while Noah searched the route most Samaritan’s took in route to Conclave Square.  Their combined searching held up the ferry, but not one passenger complained.  Since Samaritan’s live on communes, most outsiders believed that they all knew each other; but that wasn’t true.  However, most of the people on the ferry knew Zachary and Aldeara Zelle.  His parents and their projects were legendary because the Conclave had never turned down their philanthropic proposals.  So–the ferry waited, but when Noah and Geff both returned without Ona, the boat master suggested, that however unlikely, they couldn’t rule out the fact that Ona may have traveled home on an earlier ferry.  He suggested they return to the Samaritan barge, and continue the search there.

That had been two hours ago, and still–no Ona.  Aldeara’s eyes held back her tears, because she was fighting her overwhelming need to cry.  Her voice quivered when she said...

“Zachary...if Caleb is right, and something has happened to our daughter–what are we to do?”

Zachary crossed the room, wrapping his arms around his wife to console her.  He didn’t know what to say because he’d never encountered a situation quite like this one.  Samaritan’s lived uneventful lives, devoted to helping others.  He cleared his throat, then he said...

“Well–first off, I think we need to call Geff’s family, and explain why we won’t be joining them for dinner tonight.”

Zachary looked at his son and Noah nodded.

“Sure–I can take care of that.”

Noah walked pass his parents, entering the small room adjacent to the kitchen.  Before he’d moved out, the space had once been his bedroom.  Now, the room doubled as a guest room and an office.  Noah sat at the desk, then he dialed his friend Geff.  While he busied himself doing this, Zachary knew that he had to give his other son a task that would keep him occupied.  Over the years, he’d watched and witnessed the inner struggled that tormented Caleb.  He’d grown up, being raised by wealthy parents, and to have all that taken away; then to live in a manner completely opposite to what he’d been taught was normal behavior–to say that this had been a struggle, would be greatly underscoring his son’s plight.

Caleb tapped his foot.  He lifted his head when his father said...

“Caleb–check the hospital.”

His eyebrows furrowed when he said...

“Dad...going to the hospital is a waste of time.  The boat master said that he would know if there had been a medical transport–and there hadn’t been any today.”

Zachary had a strong aversion to intense emotions, and it would always take his leveled headed manner to cool Caleb’s wheels.

“Yes–you’re right Caleb–and thank you for reminding us about that conversation.  But son–my daughter is not in my home–and the hospital is the only place we haven’t checked.  I know that you believe we’re wasting time retracing our tracks–or looking in illogical places...”

Zachary’s voice trailed off–and it was then that Caleb saw the weight of this situation on his parents.  As the head of their family, it was their responsibility to keep order and calm–and he wasn’t helping them.

Caleb rose from his seat, then he said...

“Don’t worry mom and dad–I’ll go.  If she’s there, you’ll be the first to know.”

Caleb left the kitchen but his feet stalled, retracing his steps the second he heard Noah’s voice.  He stood in the entrance, filling the doorframe with his presence.

Noah spoke in a rush.

“I just got a call from the hospital’s dispatch.”

His voice wavered but he continued...

“There’d been some sort of mixup.  Something about a canceled inbound transport.  In all the confusion, the operator thought that the medical report had been phoned into the Samaritan hospital by accident–so they dismissed the call.”

Zachary and Aldeara turned to face their son, with hope in their eyes.  Noah said...

“Word got to the hospital that a Samaritan girl was missing–and that sparked the operators attention.  She searched through her recordings, and she learned that the emergency techs had called them because they believed the woman was a Samaritan–but when they rerouted the patient to Lincoln Medical Facility, the operator assumed she’d been called by mistake.”

Aldeara frowned when she said...

“But...I don’t understand.  What does this have to do with Ona?  Is she there–at the Samaritan Hospital?”

Caleb had stepped in the room.  He didn’t give Noah time to respond.  He said...

“No mom.  I think what Noah is saying is that–a Samaritan woman was transported to Lincoln Medical Facility.”

“But that can’t be.”  Aldeara corrected him. “That place isn’t a Samaritan hospital.”

Caleb looked at Noah when he asked...

“Did they say anything else?  Did the emergency technicians give them a name?”

“So much is unclear.  The operator says that she thinks the call was a mistake. But–according to her dispatch log–somebody believed that this injured woman was a Samaritan.”

The room went silent, then Caleb said...

“Don’t you get it guys?”  he paused, “That unidentified girl must be Ona.  It’s the only thing that explains her absence and it’s the only explanation that makes any sense.”

“Slow down son.”  Zachary calmly stated... “You’re forgetting one important fact.  We are Samaritans–and Non-Samaritan’s know that we only seek care at Samaritan hospitals; not doing so is a violation of our Creed.”

Caleb ignored his father.  He marched into the small office, and picked up the phone.  He scrolled through the city directory, then he pressed the button next to Lincoln Medical Facility, Midtown Campus.

He spoke, while he waited for the phone to be answered.

“If I’m wrong–there’s no harm done.  But if I’m right...”

Zachary couldn’t imagine the consequences if his son was right–because nothing like this had ever happened.

A voice chimed on the other end of the phone when she answered.

“Midtown Lincoln Medical Facility would like to wish you a Happy New Year–this is Molly, how can I direct your call?”

There was a delay on Caleb’s end because he hadn’t fully thought this through.

“Hello–this is Molly–how may I help you.”

He stuttered when he said...

“I, I guess I’d like to be transferred to someone responsible for incoming patients.”

“Are you referring to admissions, elective surgeries, consultations, diagnostics, rehabilitation, recovery and improvement or emergencies...”

Caleb had forgotten how the hospitals that catered to the ultra rich, were all-encompassing facilities.  These places weren’t your run-of-the-mill hospitals.  When rich people go to see their doctors, they expect to have an à la carte of whatever they wanted done–and they wanted these procedures to be performed in the lap of luxury.

Caleb pressed forward, trying to forget his past, when he said...

“Emergencies.”

“I’ll transfer your call–and thank you for choosing Lincoln Medical Facility,–please hold.”

While he waited, soothing music piped through the phone, but Caleb didn’t feel soothed.  His sister was missing, and something nagged at him because his gut told him that the unknown woman was Ona.  Along the side of him he noticed a shadow.  It was Noah.  By the look of him, Caleb was certain that his brother had come to the same conclusion.  If she were there, he didn’t know what this would mean–but whatever the conclusion was; Caleb knew, that it wouldn’t be good.

**********

Chapter 7

11:52 PM

New Year’s Day at Lincoln Medical Facility

“So...the surgery went well?”

Lucien repeated the surgeons words, hoping that he’d rightly understood her.  Hours had passed, and he still had not phoned his family.  When he’d learned that the young woman was in recovery, he’d sent Caesar to his home to retrieve a fresh set of clothes.  In truth, Lucien couldn’t bring himself to leave the building.  He wouldn’t risk being out of the room, for fear of missing one of the staff coming to give him the latest report.


    Ваша оценка произведения:

Популярные книги за неделю