Karen Kirst - Intensive Care Crisis

He eased the tissue from his cheek and tossed it in the bin. The cut wasn’t deep. Still, it irked him. Weeks of desk duty had made him soft. If this had happened before January, he’d have subdued that guy and not suffered a single bruise. He wouldn’t have let himself be distracted by a pretty woman, either.

Julian inwardly cringed at his stupidity. The guys would have a hearty laugh over this one—

No, they wouldn’t. Because they were dead. Paulson, Akins, Rossello, Cook. Upstanding, honorable men. The best of the best.

Suppressing a tide of grief, he refocused on Audrey. Instantly, he knew she needed a break from the repetitive—and at this stage, pointless—questions.

Pushing off the wall, he stalked to where she perched on the edge of a hard, plastic seat. Her head was bowed.

“We’re done here,” Julian stated.

Both Audrey and the security member gaped at him.

“We need more information—”

“No, you don’t. There’s nothing more to tell.” Worried about her enlarged pupils and ashen complexion, he held out his hand. “Come with me, Audrey.”

Placing her trembling hand in his, she allowed him to lead her out of the office. He ushered her to the nearest exit, which emptied into a courtyard with massive plant pots and a koi pond in one corner. The early morning air had a crisp bite to it. Good, because she needed to cool off physically and emotionally.

She sat on the bench he indicated and stared at nothing. Julian crouched in front of her.

He touched her knee. “Can I get you a soda? Coffee?”

Clasping her hands tightly in lap, she shook her head. The elastic band holding her hair was about to slip free.

“You, um—” He leaned forward and gingerly removed the blue band, registering the sensation of her silky hair against his skin. Her alluring, summery scent washed over him. Again, he had a strong recollection of something tied to his childhood. “Here you go.”

She closed her hand over the band. Her shiny tresses spilled past her shoulders, tumbling waves of rich sable.

“What about a cherry slushy?” he said. “The cafeteria might have one.”

Her lips parted. “How do you know about that?”

“Don’t freak out. I’ve shared a few elevator rides with you. More often than not, you have a slushy from the gas station, and cherry has a distinctive color.”

When she continued to stare at him with that arrested expression, he moved to sit beside her. “Look, I’m trained to notice details. In some instances, it can lead to capturing a terrorist or preventing an attack. In others, it means I know what my neighbors like to drink after a long shift. That’s not a habit I can turn off when I’m out of uniform.”

Sighing, she swept her hair behind her shoulder. “I have a weakness for cherry-flavored Jolly Ranchers, too.”

He felt a smile forming. “Good to know.”

She studied his cheek before cutting a glance at his arm. “Please tell me you didn’t reinjure your arm.”

“I didn’t reinjure my arm.”

Her eyes darkened. “You saved me.”

“I was in the right place at the right time.”

“I thank God for it.”

“What’s going on, Audrey?”

She bit her lip and shrugged. He was tempted to walk away. He’d suffered no lasting effects from his ordeal, and Audrey Harris was none of his concern. The one thing stopping him from escorting her back to security was the thought of his younger sisters. If any one of them was facing a threat and he wasn’t around to help, he’d want someone to step up to the plate.

Plus, she’d saved his life. So what if he’d done the same for her? He didn’t believe in calling things even. He owed her a debt of gratitude that couldn’t be repaid.

He tried again. “You can’t tell me these attacks aren’t connected.”

Indecision played out across her face. Her knuckles went white.

“I couldn’t help my team,” he said quietly. “But maybe I can help you.”

Her surprise mirrored his own. Why had he said that? He didn’t like thinking about what had happened, much less put it into words.

“There’s a thief in the hospital,” she said in a rush. “Someone’s been taking partially used ampules of narcotics to feed their addiction. They might also be watering down patient doses and taking the rest for themselves. I’m not sure.”

Actions with serious, perhaps even fatal, consequences. “You told your supervisor?”

“And some of my coworkers. Soon after, there were issues with my patients. Nothing life-threatening until you.” Her expression turned bleak. “This person must have a terrible addiction to feed.”

Julian sagged against the bench. The average drug user wouldn’t go to such extreme lengths to quell an investigation. It seemed to him that Audrey had gotten herself into something far more sinister. But what?

“Does your father know?”

She bolted to her feet and stared down at him. “He knows nothing, and that’s the way it stays.”

“I’ve served under him for more than a year. Gunny is a private man, but I have learned several things. Laziness and carelessness are his top pet peeves. He hates surprises. Can’t function on less than four cups of coffee a day, and he believes his only daughter hung the moon.”

“If my dad found out, he’d try to force me to quit. He still sees me as a helpless little girl.” Worry pinched her mouth. “Please don’t tell him.”

“You’re putting me in an untenable position. You know that, right?”

“I can handle this on my own.”

“Really?” He stood up. This close, he could see the contrast between her irises’ navy outer ring and the azure blue interior. Like the varying shades of the Pacific surrounding his island home. “What’s your plan?”

She licked her lips. “First off, I won’t be going into the supply room alone.” When he didn’t comment, she continued. “I’ll be extra vigilant, both here and outside the hospital.”

“You think this will go away on its own.”

“That’s what I’m praying will happen.”

Prayer hadn’t made a single difference when that helo went down. He’d begged God to let his team live. His pleas had been in vain.

She spoke again, temporarily halting his descent into bitterness. “You’re a good listener, Sergeant Tan. I thank you for that. Now I’m asking you to respect my decision not to involve my dad.”

“I won’t volunteer the information.”

At his unspoken warning, she frowned. “And you won’t give him any reason to ask questions, I hope.”

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, Julian spotted a male nurse headed for the courtyard. He burst outside in a cloud of anger. “Veronica said to go home, Audrey.”

“Home? I don’t finish until seven.”

The veins bulged at his temple. Older than Audrey by about a decade, the man looked like he led a rough life. Bloodshot eyes, reddened nose, sallow complexion. His head was shaved to call less attention to his bald spot. He was thin to the point of gauntness.

“I’ll have to work alone this shift,” he spat, dismissing Julian with a sneer. “You need to get your act together. If you don’t, I’m going to Mr. Harper.”

The door slammed behind him. Audrey had grown pale again.

“One of your coworkers?”

“Frank Russo.”

“And Mr. Harper? Who’s he?”

“Hospital president.”

He didn’t know her well enough to assume that she was innocent, but he’d developed keen instincts when it came to a person’s character. His gut said she was the sort of girl who put a high priority on others’ comfort. Otherwise, why choose a career that held zero glamour and demanded she give her all to the well-being of strangers?