Radclyffe - Passion's Bright Fury Read online

  From in front of the camera to behind it , Sax thought. "So, if I promise to keep your secret, will you play me?"

  Jude laughed, suddenly feeling much more carefree than she could remember being in a long time. "Is everything a game to you?"

  "Not everything," Sax said, smiling as she said it, although her eyes held something serious in their depths. "But almost. Are you going to answer my question?"

  "All right, Dr. Sinclair. Let's play."

  ****

  Chapter fourteen

  "What do you think they're doing?" Aaron asked quietly.

  "I don't know," Melissa admitted, easing her feet down off the counter and trying to get a clearer view of the board angled between Jude and Sinclair. "I thought they were playing at first," she remarked to Aaron, who sat beside her finishing some paperwork, "but it takes longer than ten minutes to play a game, doesn't it?"

  The blond nodded. "Usually, unless you're not very good, and Sinclair is."

  "Well, they've set the board up six times in the last hour, and they both look very…grim," Melissa observed. "Do you think this could lead to bloodshed?"

  Observing the intent expression on the surgeon's face, Aaron shrugged. "Very possibly. Sinclair takes no prisoners."

  While Melissa tried to decide if she should interrupt them, possibly saving her good friend from psychological trauma, Jude whispered for the sixth time--too softly for anyone else to hear, "Checkmate."

  Sax stared at the board, playing the next half dozen moves in her mind to the inevitable outcome, seeing now where she had left herself open. Finally she murmured, "Well, that's an improvement. I actually made seven moves this time before I blew it."

  "We can stop," Jude offered. It didn't matter that she hadn't touched a board in years; there was no way she could not play the way she played. That was one reason she never played for entertainment.

  "Why?" Sax asked, raising her eyes to Jude's, a hint of challenge in her voice. "Afraid I might take you next time?"

  For a moment, Jude wasn't sure how to respond. Deciding that diplomacy was probably best, she began, "Doctor Sinclair…"

  "Sax," Sax interrupted.

  "Sax," Jude said with a smile, "I just thought you might want a break…"

  "No, you didn't. You figured I must be tired of getting thrashed and you don't think I have a chance in hell of beating you. Right?"

  "Uh…"

  "But it could happen, right?" Sax persisted. "Maybe not the next game, or the tenth game, or the hundredth game-but it could happen."

  Laughing, Jude nodded. "Possibly. Why not? But are you planning on making this your life's work?"

  "Maybe," Sax replied, liking the way she laughed--thinking she hadn't seen her look so relaxed before, and liking that, too. "I know I'm a long way from giving up."

  "Are you always so persistent?" Jude asked.

  "Only when it matters."

  There was something in her tone and the way that her gaze played over Jude's face that made Jude's heart race. She flushed, then cursed herself for being so damn susceptible to the surgeon's intense good looks and inescapable charm. She's probably like this with everyone. And why does everything she says go right to my…damn…I'm the one who needs a break.

  "Do you want to stop?" Sax asked quietly, very aware of their thighs touching lightly as they pressed close over the game board.

  "Oh no," Jude said just as quietly. "Not if you don't."

  "Good," Sax responded as she began to set her pieces on the board.

  *****

  Personal Project Log - Castle

  July 7 - 2:27a.m.

  DRM 4507-7010

  This is the first break we've had since a little after 6 p.m. Stein's in the OR now, and we're not taping because I don't think Mel can hold the camera anymore. It's been nonstop downstairs in the trauma admitting area for eight hours. It started with a rush-hour pile up on the bridge involving three cars, a tractor-trailer, and a row of yellow hazard cones. I don't know the total number of injured, even now, but I know some came here and some went to Bellevue and some to a couple of the other level one trauma centers. Sax had to call in the backup team when three people needed immediate surgery for internal injuries and she needed to be available for more incoming. Several got transferred directly from here to the burn unit at NYU. Deb had to stabilize those people before they could be moved, and there's some incredible footage on that... I never realized before how lucid burn victims are right after their injury, and how very little pain they may actually have. Deb explained that with major burns the nerve endings are destroyed so there isn't much acute discomfort. I have to say it made it a lot easier knowing that. [Note: check DRM 5500... there's a segment here of Deb explaining to one of the patients what happened to him and what his injuries were. He asked her if he was going to die. He was very calm. I couldn't see her eyes, because they never moved from his. She didn't hesitate when she answered him, and there was something in the tone of her voice... an absolute certainty... that made you trust her when she told him he was going to be all right. I've heard that tone before, and I know the strength that was in her eyes. She's got it, whatever that thing is that makes some people able to connect with you so powerfully... so quickly... that you believe]

  Mel's already crashed. Deb's with Sax finishing a case in the OR. I'm going to stay up and talk to them as soon as they finish. Oh…Note: Episode Title: In the Trenches…

  *****

  July 7 - 3:40 a.m.

  Jude was awakened by a knock on the door. Sitting up in confusion, it took her a few seconds to get oriented. Hospital. On-call room. Damn, I fell asleep. Mel was snoring lightly on the other bed, fully clothed, one arm dangling over the side. Rising hastily, she crossed to the door and opened it. She blinked as the light from the hall struck her, even though the overhead fluorescents had been turned off, as they usually were at night, and only the running lights along the wall provided faint illumination.

  "Hey," Sax said quietly, realizing from Jude's perplexed expression that she'd been asleep. "Sorry to wake you, but we have another one coming. I didn't know if you wanted to be called..."

  "No," Jude said quickly. "I do, thanks. What is it, do you know?"

  "Reports are it's a taxi versus bicycle collision. The cyclist lost."

  "At three o'clock in the morning?"

  Sax smiled. "It's the city that never sleeps."

  "Apparently," Jude grumbled as she watched Sax walk off down the hall. Turning to her bunkmate, she called, "Wake up, sunshine. We've got work."

  *****

  Jude was jolted into a state of hyper alertness by the arrival of the EMTs, all thought of her previous exhaustion gone. The glaringly harsh lights in the trauma bay, the clatter of wheels over uneven tiles, the hubbub of voices--the general sense of excitement mixed with anxiety--produced a bizarre kind of high that was oddly exhilarating.

  The now-familiar routine began again. A male EMT called, "Vehicle versus pedestrian, unresponsive in the field…multiple facial fractures, probable pneumothorax, open left femur fracture… BP 100 over 60."

  Mel, with Jude practically glued to her back, maneuvered closer with her camera as Deb and Sax, along with Aaron and several other nurses, moved the young man onto the treatment table.

  "Anybody got a name?" Sax asked as Deb began the initial assessment.

  "There's a wallet in his pants," Aaron replied as he slit the garment up the sides with large utility scissors. "Uh…Mark Houseman."

  "Mark," Sax said forcefully as she leaned close to his face, gently lifting one swollen lid. "You've been in an accident. You're at…"

  Bellevue…Can you tell me your name…

  Jude blinked, forcing herself to focus on the man on the table. The voice is the same, the words are the same, but it is not you. Not this time. Her vision cleared and the first surge of nausea disappeared. The relief that followed was like a stone lifted from her soul.

  "Left pupil's fixed and dilated," Sax proclaimed. "Aaron,
call neurosurg and get them in here. He needs to be decompressed."

  "Chest tube's in," Deb announced as she connected the thick plastic tube to a negative pressure collection chamber that would reinflate his lung and evacuate blood and fluid from his chest. Continuing her exam, she noted, "His mid-face is unstable…feels like there's an open fracture of the mandible, too."

  "How's his airway?" Sax asked, although she had already checked.

  "He'll need to be trached," Deb replied. "There's a lot of swelling in the posterior pharynx, and with all the facial fractures…"

  "Let's do it now, then," Sax interjected, pleased that Deb had made a quick, accurate assessment. "Aaron, get the trach tray open."

  "Roger."

  "Have we heard from neurosurg?" Sax asked the room in general as she stepped back from the table.

  "Pam Arnold's on her way in. She said half an hour," another nurse answered.

  Jude edged closer to Sax, waiting for a break in the action. "Can you talk?" she asked quietly when the surgeon seemed to be free.

  "Go ahead," Sax responded, watching Deb prep the man's neck for the tracheostomy.

  "Why isn't the neurosurgeon here in the hospital like you are?"

  "Because state law only requires that subspecialists be available within a reasonable period of time, and if I insisted that the neurosurgeons and orthopedists and plastic surgeons take call like we do, they'd all quit. We have a bigger staff than those divisions, plus they have much heavier day-to-day elective schedules. They can't work all night and then all the next day very often without burning out."

  "Okay," Jude said with a nod, that detail clarified. "One more question-what about consent for the procedures you're doing on this guy. How do you handle that with no family here and him unconscious?"

  "Deb…make sure you keep the incision right in the midline…there's a lot of swelling in his neck so watch your landmarks." Sax looked at Jude directly for the first time. "In an emergency situation we can legally perform any life-saving procedure indicated. Once he's stabilized and upstairs in the TICU, though, we'll need family or a court order to give permission before we do anything else."

  "Tonight then, what you say goes?"

  "Pretty much," Sax agreed. "So, how are you doing?"

  Jude wasn't sure what the surgeon was asking, or why, and for an instant she bristled at the intrusion. The look in Sax's eyes, though, was too unwavering, and too warm, to be objectionable. "I'm fine-not even tired. And I think I'm past the-personal stuff."

  "Immersion therapy?" Sax asked with a wry smile. "Every trauma has a lot of similarities. It's the little details that make the difference."

  "Yes," Jude said, realizing that viewing it over and over was helping her distance herself in a way that actually healed. "But you're good with the details, aren't you?"

  It was Sax's turn to wonder what was behind the statement, but at that moment a stately blond in a silk blazer and slacks walked in, looking like she'd just left the country club. "Excuse me," Sax murmured, watching the woman pull a cover gown over her clothes as she approached.

  "Hello, Saxon," the blond said in a throaty tone that reminded Jude of Lauren Bacall.

  "Pam," Sax replied smoothly.

  "What do you have?"

  "Closed head injury, panfacial fractures, blown pupil," Deb answered as she finished tying in the trach tube.

  "CT scan?"

  "Not done yet," Sax informed the neurosurgeon, who was assessing Mark Houseman's reflexes and general muscle tone.

  "Can we send him down now?" Pam Arnold inquired. "I'd like to get him upstairs and get this done. I've got a lumbar laminectomy scheduled for eight, and that patient's already waited two months. I don't want that case to be bounced."

  "Deb?" Sax asked.

  "He's good to go," Deb affirmed with a nod. "Airway's clear…vital signs are good."

  "Excellent," the neurosurgeon commented, pulling off her cover gown. "You still owe me dinner," she tossed over her shoulder to Sax as she watched her patient being transferred to a stretcher for the trip to radiology.

  Jude couldn't hear Sax's reply, but she didn't need to. The satisfied smile on the blond's model perfect face told the story. You didn't really expect that someone like Sinclair would be unattached, did you? And why should it matter anyway?

  Chapter fifteen

  Personal Project Log - Castle

  July 25 - 9:45 a.m.

  I'm finally going to get my official interview with Sinclair this morning. Even though I've seen her on and off every couple of days for the last three weeks, there hasn't been a good time for us to talk at any length. If she isn't it the middle of a trauma and up to her ears in blood, she's running to a meeting, or unwinding with Deb or Aaron. The term Trauma team is apt-when they're not actually working, they're playing together. It diffuses the tension, I think - the basketball, the chess, hanging around in the OR lounge kibitzing. [Note: Need a segment…or a series of sidebars…on their intense personal relationships-the bonding is very reminiscent of groups under severe stress, like police or firefighters, or soldiers-title it, Officer's Club maybe] I just couldn't cut into that time with more questions for them. Sinclair's been good about answering technical details…I haven't been able to get her to fill in the blanks in her CV for me, though…in fact, looking back over interviews she's given, she manages to sidestep personal questions entirely. There's something off and I can't put my finger on it…

  "Ms. Castle?" Naomi Riley asked, interrupting Jude's quietly murmured dictation. "Dr. Sinclair is ready for you."

  "Yes, okay," Jude replied, hastily pocketing her recorder. "Thanks."

  When she walked into Sax's office she was surprised to see how spacious it was, with windows on two walls that commanded a breathtaking view, a small oriental carpet in front of a decidedly non-institutional antique mahogany desk, and a matching leather sofa and chair set. Saxon Sinclair, in an elegantly cut dark silk suit, looked perfectly at home in the stylish surroundings. Jude had gotten used to her in scrubs or in the causal jeans she usually arrived in for work. Although she'd always found her attractive, for a moment she was stunned by how striking she appeared now.

  Sax glanced up from her paperwork as Jude entered, pushed a pile of folders aside, and smiled a greeting. "Good morning."

  "Thanks for seeing me," Jude replied, crossing the room and settling into one of the chairs in front of Sax's desk.

  Despite the fact that she saw Sax almost every day, here in these formal surroundings, Jude was even more aware of the other woman's personal magnetism. Though she'd seen her working, had watched her play, and had witnessed her in unguarded intimate moments with patients, she realized how little of Sax she really knew. Almost every impression she had of her was visceral-emotional-images and reactions formed by being near her, observing her, listening to her. Jude had never before formed a relationship in this way. Relationships had always been something that developed from a friendship, or from an intellectual exchange, or from an awareness of shared interests-as it had been with Lori. She had never been touched by anyone so primally, with no reason or rationale except the emotions that stirred within her when the other person was near.

  Suddenly, Jude was aware of the silence in the room, and the fact that she had very probably been staring. What she found strange was that when she focused on Sax's face, she discovered that the surgeon was regarding her intently as well. Clearing her throat, she continued, "I didn't expect to be able to meet with you today. Aren't we on call again tomorrow?"

  "Yes, we are," Sax confirmed, hiding a smile at the "we". Despite her initial misgivings, Melissa and Jude were beginning to feel like part of the team. Jude had been true to her word, taking care to preserve patient confidentiality, respecting the privacy of patients who declined to be filmed, and acknowledging the wishes of families who did not want some footage to be used. And, if she were honest, she liked seeing Jude on a regular basis, even if it were under less than intimate circumstances. She liked h
er drive and her passion and her sense of humor. She liked... her. She caught her mind wandering down avenues she did not want to travel and reminded herself of the purpose of their meeting. Striving for a businesslike tone, she continued, "But I don't particularly like to make appointments when I'm on call for the trauma unit. Half the time I end up in the operating room with a patient and the meeting has to be canceled. It just clogs up my schedule down the line."

  "Why aren't you off today?" Jude asked, still perplexed. "I thought when you were on call in the unit you went home the next day."

  "Actually only Deb's off the next day. New York State limits the number of hours a resident can work during the week or at any one time without a break." She smiled a little wryly. "There aren't any such regulations for staff. If I didn't come in today I'd end up buried in paperwork, and Riley would probably leave me. And then I'd have to quit myself, because she's the only one capable of keeping me organized. Besides, I have to be in Albany this afternoon for a state review of funding allocations for level one trauma centers. I need to present our numbers for the last year and do the appropriate amount of glad-handing to see that we continue to get financial support."

  "I never realized how much non-medical work there was in being the division chief," Jude said. Aware that time was at a premium, she lifted her recorder and continued, "Do you mind if I tape this?"

  For moment, Sax debated. She had agreed to meet formally with Jude simply because Jude had requested it. It wasn't something she would ordinarily have done, and she wasn't entirely comfortable with an uncensored conversation being recorded. "You can tape any part of the conversation that has to deal with Deb's training."

  "All right," Jude agreed, although it hadn't escaped her notice that Sinclair had deftly limited the scope of their interview and effectively placed anything about herself off-limits. On the other hand, Jude's professional interests did not include the trauma chief other than for background highlights, and she should rightly focus on Deborah Stein. You just wanted to talk about her because you want to know more about her.