Fatal Trauma Read online

  “I talked with Goodrich. He wants me off duty until all the dust settles.” He told her about the malpractice suits, then hit her with the clincher—the possibility that he might be arrested for Anna King’s murder.

  “That’s ridiculous. I hope you told him—”

  “I’ve decided to take a week’s vacation. After that . . . it depends on what happens, I guess.”

  “Do you need the name of a lawyer?”

  “Actually, I know one, someone from my hometown who practices in Drayton now.”

  “I hope you’ll call him in the morning.”

  Mark was quiet for a beat. “Probably. I’m still trying to decide.”

  “If you’re going to be off work . . .”

  “I can still take you to the hospital and pick you up tomorrow,” he said.

  “No, no. You’ll have other things to do. I’ll arrange a ride.” Kelly wondered why she was avoiding telling Mark about Carl—probably because she knew he would worry, and he had enough on his plate without adding that to it.

  “How’s Dr. King?”

  “She’s out of surgery and in the ICU. She probably won’t wake up for a day or two . . . if she wakes up.”

  Kelly started to say, “I’ll pray for her.” But she knew she was going to do that, and Mark might think she was getting pushy.

  After ending the call, Kelly sat with the phone in her hand. She had mixed feelings about riding to the hospital tomorrow with Carl. Despite Tracy’s expressed opinion that the surgery tech would be a good person to protect her, she still had a bad feeling about the man. She didn’t want to be racist about it, but he was Hispanic, and the members of a Hispanic drug cartel were apparently out to kill her and Mark.

  Maybe she should bite the bullet—bad choice of words—maybe she should drive her own car. After all, going to the hospital in the afternoon should be safe enough. When she left, she’d ask a security guard to walk her to her car. Then she could lock the vehicle’s doors, go straight home, and not get out until the garage door was safely closed behind her.

  She had her hand on the phone to call Carl and tell him not to come by when it dawned on her—she didn’t have his phone number. I’ll call Tracy and get it from her. Kelly was about to push the speed dial number for her friend when her cell phone showed an incoming call. The number was unfamiliar, and at first she was tempted to let it go to voicemail, but she decided she’d better answer. “Hello?”

  “Is this Kelly?” The voice, like the number, wasn’t one she recognized.

  Fearing an obscene call, Kelly started to hang up, but decided to ask, “Who’s calling?”

  “This is Carlos Ortiz. Remember, Tracy introduced us at the hospital.”

  “Oh,” Kelly said. “Yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize the number or the voice.”

  “I wanted to confirm that you’re riding with me tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at about two. Okay?”

  Tell him you’ve changed your mind. This is your chance. “I . . . I’m—”

  “Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts. Tracy told me about your situation. Believe me, I’m the right person to protect you.” His voice grew softer, and a bit of an accent crept in. “All you have to do is get in my car, sit back, and relax. After that, I’ll take care of everything.”

  ***

  “Thanks for staying around to talk,” Mark said.

  “No problem.” Eric looked around to make sure there was no one near their table in the almost empty food court. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I guess it started with my brush with death last Saturday night when the gunman held us hostage. After that there was the constant sense that the Zetas might kill me anytime. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I was worried sick. Apparently Kelly was, too, at least at first. But later she told me she had peace with the situation. I want . . . no, I need that peace.”

  “And you think that because I’m, as you called it, ‘a man of faith,’ I can help you?”

  Mark nodded. “I hope you can.”

  “What do you think Kelly has that you’re missing?” Eric asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Mark said. “I thought her being a Christian had something to do with it, but I became a Christian when I was a teenager. I’ll admit that I let my focus slip away during college and medical school.” He ducked his head. “I’m not making excuses—a lot of my classmates did.”

  “So you got busy with other things and, the more time they took, the less you even thought about God. And eventually, you forgot about Him altogether.”

  Mark swallowed hard. That was hard to take, mainly because it was true. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “And now you’re trying to find your way back. Is that right?”

  “Yes, but I’m not making much progress,” Mark said.

  “What have you tried?”

  “I guess . . . I guess mainly I’ve tried to . . . to be a better person,” Mark said. “But I can’t see any change. I don’t feel anything—certainly not the peace Kelly talked about.” He spread his hands in a gesture of frustration. “What have I missed? What’s missing from my life?”

  “God.” Eric looked Mark in the eye. “Every action, every decision in your adult life has been made with one person in mind—you. That’s human . . . but it’s not right.”

  Mark opened his mouth to reply, but once he thought about it, he realized Eric was right. “Go on.”

  “Once you put God in control of your life, once you make up your mind to surrender to His will, some of those decisions will be different. Your life will change.”

  “And I’ll see a difference?”

  “No,” Eric said. “You’ll feel a difference. That’s when you’ll begin to experience the peace you’re so desperately seeking.”

  ***

  Mark slept fitfully that night. Maybe it was because of his conversation with Eric, a conversation that had left him vaguely uneasy. Then again, perhaps it was because of something he had to do this morning. He needed to call a lawyer.

  Mark’s mother had given him the number almost a year ago when Gwen moved to Drayton, along with some strong hints that Mark should call her. The two had been high school sweethearts. Apparently Mrs. Baker hadn’t given up hope that Mark would get married and give her grandchildren before she was too old to play with them, and she seemed to think that Gwen Woodruff was her best hope.

  Mark scrolled through the list on his cell phone until he found what he was seeking, both an office and home number for Gwen. Was this a bad idea? Well, the detective had warned him that he should engage an attorney, bring them up to speed on the situation, put them on standby because Mark could be arrested at any moment. Right now the possible charge was attempted murder. If Anna died . . . no, he didn’t want to think about that right now. He dialed the number.

  The phone rang twice before it was answered. Mark fully expected a disembodied voice telling him to press 1 or 2 or star or whatever. Instead, a soft alto voice said, “Gwen Woodruff.” It was a voice he recognized instantly, one that brought memories flooding back.

  Get a grip. This is serious, not a scene from a romantic movie. “Is this the law office?”

  “Yes. May I help you?”

  “Gwen, it’s Mark Baker. I didn’t expect you to be answering your own phone.”

  The laugh that followed was full-throated and deep. Gwen’s laugh had always been . . . Well, face it. It had been sexy. “What’s funny?” he asked.

  “My secretary called in sick this morning, and I thought this was the temp agency phoning to tell me the replacement was on her way. Instead I get an old boyfriend with whom I haven’t spoken in years. I was just thinking that life is full of surprises.”

  “Unfortunately, I have another one for you,” Mark said. As succinctly as he could, he told Gwen about his situation. “The detective said I should have a lawyer on standby. My first thought was that I didn’t know any lawyers in Drayton. Then your name popped into my mind.” He swallowed twice before he could
get the words out. “Can you help me? Will you?”

  The silence that followed was broken by a rhythmic noise. He guessed Gwen still had the habit of tapping a pencil on the desk in front of her as she thought. Some things never seem to change.

  At last, Gwen said, “Of course I’ll help in any way I can. I’m in solo practice, and I do a little of everything, but I don’t have a lot of experience in criminal defense. If you like, I could put you in touch—”

  Mark broke in. “Gwen, if you’ll take the case, I want you.”

  “Even if—”

  “Even if you’re not an experienced criminal defense attorney. I know I can trust you.” He took a deep breath. “And that’s important for me right now. Probably because I’m not sure who else I can trust.”

  “We need to talk more about this.” He heard papers rustle, then a deep sigh. “I’m tied up for the rest of the day. Can you come by about five?”

  “Of course.” He wrote down the address. Almost before he ended the call, Mark was questioning his decision to call Gwen. Well, time would tell.

  ***

  That afternoon Kelly paced the front room of her house, wondering again and again why she had been unable to turn down Carl’s offer of a ride. Was it because her friend Tracy had vouched so strongly for the man, had actually arranged for this? Could it be simply that Kelly had been afraid she couldn’t do it without hurting Carl’s feelings? Or did she harbor the hope that Mark would call, offering to drive her to work and protect her from the faceless shooters she was imagining lurked around every corner?

  A light tap on her front door made Kelly stop in her tracks. She hurried to the door and looked out the peephole. She searched her memory to match the bronze-skinned face smiling back at her with the man she’d met briefly at the hospital. Yes, this was Carl. The white Ford Focus at the curb must be his car.

  She took a deep breath and opened the door widely. “I . . . I expected you to honk or something. You didn’t have to get out and come to the door.”

  Carl shook his head. “In my country, as I suspect in yours, that would be discourteous. I recall a television program I saw years ago—I believe you call them ‘sitcoms’—in which the father of a teenage daughter tells a suitor, ‘If you sit in your car in front of my house and honk, you’d better be delivering a pizza.’” He smiled, showing even white teeth. “I would never show such disrespect for a friend of Tracy’s.”

  Kelly nodded her understanding. “Well, it’s nice of you to give me a ride. I suppose Tracy explained to you why I don’t like to be in my car alone at night.”

  “I understand very well,” Carl said. “And your fear isn’t unreasonable. In my home country, the mere name of the Zetas is enough to frighten anyone. But don’t worry. I will be delighted not only to escort you but furnish protection as well.”

  “Thank you.” She gestured to the couch. “Please have a seat while I get my things. Would you like something to drink?”

  “No, thank you.” He looked at his watch. “And don’t hurry. We have plenty of time.”

  Kelly felt a tingling between her shoulder blades when she turned her back on Carl and left the room. Get over it, Kelly. The man’s harmless. Just because he’s Hispanic you’ve imagined he’s a Zeta. Yet she had to force herself to walk slowly until she’d turned the corner in the hall and closed the door of her bedroom behind her.

  In her bedroom, Kelly pulled out her cell phone and called Mark. It rang six times before it rolled over to voicemail. “Mark, this is Kelly. Call me back ASAP. It’s urgent.”

  Mark was never without his cell phone. He kept it at his bedside at night, in his pocket during the day. His failure to answer must mean that he was talking with someone. If she could delay—

  The ring of her own cell phone made her jump. This would be Mark. “Hello?”

  “Hey, girl. Did Carl make it by to pick you up?”

  Kelly felt her shoulders slump. Ordinarily, she’d be pleased that Tracy would call to check on her, but right now Kelly wanted the phone line clear. “Yes, he’s here right now. I’m just doing a few last-minute things before we leave.”

  Apparently Tracy was recovering quickly from her illness, because it seemed to take forever for Kelly to wind down the conversation. No sooner had she cleared the line than the phone rang again. Kelly looked at the display and felt a rush of relief. Mark was calling back.

  “Mark, I need your help,” Kelly said without preamble.

  “Sure,” he said. “What’s going on?”

  “I know it’s silly, but Tracy’s sick and couldn’t give me a ride to work. She called Carl to fill in, and he’s already here. I was about ready to send him away and drive myself, but the more I thought about it . . .”

  “No, you’re probably right,” Mark said. “This afternoon I imagine you’d be safe. But leaving the hospital by yourself near midnight you’d make a good target for anyone who wanted to pick you off. I’d feel better if I were with you.”

  “I was hoping that maybe you could come by when my shift ends tonight. That way I could tell Carl my plans had changed. I know you’re not working tonight, but if you could—”

  “I’ll do better than that,” Mark said. “Thank Carl, tell him I just called and insisted on handling this, and send him on his way. I’ll be there in ten minutes to pick you up and take you to the hospital. And I’ll come get you tonight after work. I imagine that by that time I’ll need to bring you up to speed on some things anyway. The ride will give me an opportunity.”

  Kelly blew out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Thanks, Mark.” She smoothed her hair, which had fallen into her eyes during the conversation. “I’m sorry—”

  “No need to be sorry about anything. We’re both in danger, and it’s best that we recognize it, not try to ignore it.”

  In the living room, Carl was still sitting on the sofa, apparently absorbed in his own thoughts. Kelly felt guilty thinking that he represented a threat. Then again, Mark was on his way, so she might as well proceed. “Carl, while I was in my bedroom getting my things, I got a phone call. Another one of my friends is going to pick me up and escort me to and from the hospital. I’m grateful for your willingness to step in, but I guess it won’t be necessary.”

  She thought she saw a faint frown flit across his face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “Are you certain? I’m happy to help.”

  “Thanks, and I’ll feel free to call you if this comes up again. But for now, you can go on to the hospital.” She forced a smile. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

  Carl nodded noncommittally. He eased himself off the couch, and in so doing the leg of his khaki pants momentarily hung on something. He quickly shook the pants leg to settle it, but not before Kelly caught a glimpse of something strapped to Carl’s right lower leg. She was no expert, but she was pretty sure she’d had a fleeting view of an ankle holster—and the small black automatic pistol it held.

  15

  Mark told Kelly he’d be there in ten minutes. Actually, it only took eight before he was knocking on her door. He sensed movement behind the peephole, then the door opened.

  Kelly stood there smiling, her backpack and purse slung over one shoulder. “Thanks for coming by.”

  “No problem.” He looked at his watch. “We’d better hurry, though. I don’t want you to be late.”

  While Kelly fastened her seat belt, Mark hit the button to lock all the doors. “I’ll walk you to the hospital entrance. Tonight, when you get off, wait inside the sliding glass doors of the ER while you call me on your cell phone. I’ll come in and walk you to the car.”

  “Why don’t I ask one of the security guards to escort me?” she said.

  “I’m afraid that if you cry ‘wolf’ often enough, the security people will relax. I won’t make that mistake. Besides, I’m thinking about getting a pistol for protection.”

  “I thought we discussed that and you decided against it.”

  Mark shook his head. “I�
�ve had time to give it some thought, and I decided that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.”

  “Does someone taking a shot at Anna King have anything to do with this?”

  “Yeah, that sort of brought things home to me—especially since I was talking with her on my phone when it happened.”

  Kelly shifted in her seat to turn toward Mark. “Well, I’m not going to argue with you. I saw something this afternoon that made me think the Zetas are a lot closer to us—actually, to me I guess—than I thought.”

  Mark listened to Kelly’s account of seeing Carl with a pistol. “And you’re sure that’s what you saw?” he asked when she’d finished.

  “I’m no expert on pistols, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen an ankle holster before, but . . . yes, I’m pretty sure.”

  “If that’s true, I think I’d better have a talk with whoever’s in charge of personnel for the operating room. Better yet, why don’t I let the police know?”

  “What are you going to tell them? Your friend thought she saw Carl carrying a concealed weapon? What if he has a permit? What if he’s one of the thousands of Texans who say they’re exercising their Second Amendment rights by carrying a gun? Unless he brings it into the hospital, it doesn’t create a problem.” Kelly sighed. “No, I think that for now I just need to be extra careful when Carl’s around.”

  “Are you going to mention this to Tracy? She works with him every day.”

  “I don’t know. Tracy and I have been friends ever since nursing school, but what if she’s a part of this? Maybe the Zetas have their hooks into her, or maybe she’s an unwitting pawn in their scheme to kill me.”

  Mark slowed as he approached the emergency entrance of the hospital. “I’m going to see you safely inside. Don’t forget to call me tonight when you get off work.”

  “You’re off today. What are you going to do this afternoon?”