Radclyffe - Passion's Bright Fury Read online

  "What's up?"

  "I think the gallbladder's necrotic."

  "Excuse me," Sax said, turning briskly to the OR table. "Suzanne, get some gloves for me. I'm scrubbing in."

  *****

  An hour later, Deb joined Jude in the OR lounge. She pushed change into the soda machine and after retrieving her Coke, dropped onto the couch and propped her feet on the coffee table.

  "Did the boss leave?" Deb asked.

  "Yes," Jude replied. "She said she had a chief's meeting." They'd bumped into each other, almost literally, in the locker room. To Jude's surprise, even without the benefit of masks to cover any awkwardness, their exchange had been comfortable. She hadn't been embarrassed, nor did Sinclair seem to be. Why should we be? It was hardly anything to be ashamed of. We're both adults and it might be assumed that we both have sex. But it wasn't the fact of what she had witnessed, or even where she had seen it, but the fact that she couldn't forget how she'd felt watching it that was driving her crazy. She'd been as aroused as she'd ever felt with someone touching her for real.

  "Great case, huh?" Deb continued, oblivious to Jude's distraction.

  Grateful for the diversion, Jude indicated her dictaphone. "Can I tape?"

  "Sure," Deb said, taking a deep swallow of her soda. "God, I get so dehydrated when I operate."

  "What do you do during long cases?"

  "Ignore it," Deb said with a shrug.

  "So why was this a great case?"

  The attractive strawberry blonde grinned her trademark grin. "Because I got to do an open gallbladder, which we don't get to do very much anymore since most of the time it's done through a laparoscope. You know--a small periscope that gets introduced into the abdomen through a tiny incision. Plus, besides getting to actually cut the gallbladder out, Sinclair assisted me ."

  "Is that unusual?" Jude asked. She had managed to get close enough to the table to observe Sinclair and Deb work, and she had been impressed that Sinclair didn't seem to be doing much except verbally leading Deb through the operation.

  "It is for the first week of a trauma fellowship when she hasn't worked with me very often before. She pretty much let me do the whole thing."

  "I was surprised," Jude acknowledged. "Why wasn't she there for the entire surgery?"

  "This was a pretty straightforward case. She has to be around somewhere in the vicinity, in case there's a problem, but it's up to her how much I do on my own. So she was probably in the OR lounge most of the time."

  "Is that..." Jude hesitated, searching for the word. "Legal?"

  Deb glanced at the clock, drained her soda, and tossed it in a nearby waste paper basket. "I don't think there's any legality involved. This is a training program. How much I do is up to her. I am a licensed physician, and in theory, I could walk out the door and start my own practice right now. I'm only here for more experience."

  Jude chose her words carefully. "What if you weren't... competent? I mean, what if you weren't ready to be by yourself?"

  "It's up to Sinclair to decide that." Deb grinned again. Then, with an expression that reminded Jude very much of Saxon Sinclair's, she said, "but you don't need to worry. Everyone's always said I've got good hands."

  Jude laughed as she clicked off her recorder. Surgeons. Then again, I suppose if you're going to have someone cutting into you, you want them to be confident about it.

  *****

  Personal Project Log - Castle

  July 5 10:01 a.m.

  Digital Reference Marks 3025-4150

  This is the kind of thing that will make or break us -- this uncensored view of on the job training. Is the average viewer really ready to see how physicians are made? I read this book when I was a kid, The Making of a Surgeon, and I remember being absolutely fascinated by how easily mistakes could happen even when everyone was trying their very best. I don't suppose that book could get written today, because in today's world, what doctor is going to admit that things go wrong on a daily basis? Not necessarily big things, or fatal errors, but definitely things that could turn out to be disastrous. [Note: ask Deb or Sinclair how the threat of litigation affects their decision-making process]. Maybe that's why Sinclair didn't want us filming in real time -- she didn't want us to expose the potential dangers in the system ... laugh... yeah right, Castle. She's definitely the type to be scared by publicity. Exposure does not seem to be a problem for her.

  Jude clicked off the recorder and took a deep breath. That was a line of thought she did not want to pursue.

  Chapter thirteen

  "May I help you?" the stylishly dressed, auburn-haired woman asked Jude in a pleasant but reserved tone.

  "I'm Jude Castle from Horizon Productions," she said, glancing past the woman to the door at the rear of the alcove that opened into what must be Sinclair's formal office. She heard a murmur of voices coming from within and wished she could get a clear view inside. "Dr. Sinclair told me I could stop by for a copy of her CV."

  "Of course," Sax's secretary responded, turning to a bank of file cabinets and opening one of the drawers. Within seconds, she handed Jude a surprisingly large document. "I'm Naomi Riley, Dr. Sinclair's personal secretary. If you need any assistance with schedules or information about the training program, just call me."

  "Thanks," Jude responded. "Perhaps you could help me arrange a time for a formal interview. I know she's busy..."

  "I'll have to get back to you on that," Naomi replied in a practiced manner that suggested Jude might hear from her in the next millennium.

  Laughing, Jude explained, "I didn't have much luck the last time I tried, but maybe she'll be a little more receptive now that we've met."

  "I'm sure she'll make every effort," the secretary said smoothly, "but her schedule is always full."

  "I understand. I'll check back with you." There was no point in making a fuss about it at this point. A two-front attack might gain better results anyhow. She'd speak to Sinclair later, who would undoubtedly refer her back to her secretary. At least then she could tell Naomi Riley that she and Sinclair had discussed it and that might get her one step closer. Despite the fact that she saw the surgeon frequently during the day, it was hard to pin her down long enough for questions and answers. She needed to have the formality of a scheduled appointment to talk to Sinclair both about Deb's training as well as her own background. Jude still knew almost nothing about her, and, considering what she had observed, the irony of that fact did not escape her.

  "Okay. Thanks again," she said absently as she walked away, already skimming the first pages of the extensive curriculum vitae. On the surface, it was pretty much what she had expected. Sinclair had been educated at a liberal arts college in the Northeast and had gone on to an Ivy League medical school. Her general surgical training had been at yet another top-ranked hospital and she had completed her trauma fellowship right here in Manhattan at Bellevue, where apparently she then joined the staff.

  Jude stopped suddenly, causing the person behind her to nearly collide with her. "Sorry," she mumbled distractedly as she moved over to the wall out of the stream of foot traffic. She reread the words - Trauma Attending, Bellevue hospital -- and the dates. Abruptly, she stuffed the document into her briefcase and resumed walking.

  *****

  Jude took a chance that nothing would happen for the next few hours. She stopped at a street vendor's cart and bought a cold soda and a bag of hot nuts, and walked until she found a patch of shade in a postage stamp-sized park. She didn't think about much of anything at all for a while, but occupied her mind with the always entertaining street parade of passersby that was New York City. When she'd finished her nuts and settled her mind, she got up and walked back to the hospital, determined that the past would not rule her present, or her future.

  She found Aaron Townsend alone in the trauma admitting area, doing what he usually did when no patients were there -- moving outdated drugs and instrument packs onto carts to be disposed of or recycled and taking inventory of what he needed t
o order or replenish. He glanced over at her with a welcoming smile when she walked in.

  "Hi. Have you seen Melissa?" Jude asked, smiling back.

  "About an hour ago. She said something about taking a nap -- actually, I think she referred to it as stockpiling zees. She's probably in your on-call room," he offered.

  "How about Deb?" she asked, thinking that she might use this time to get some more background.

  "I think she's up on the roof with Sinclair."

  Damn. I never should've left. Anxiously, she asked, "At the helipad? Is there a trauma alert?"

  "If there is, nobody told me. They're just up there passing the time until we get some action. I'm sure they won't mind if you join them."

  She hesitated for a moment, and then thought, Why not ? She grabbed a small DVcam from the equipment locker her crew had left and waved goodbye to Aaron. This was a good opportunity to get the footage she'd wanted of Deb during the downtime, the inevitable periods of inactivity between trauma alerts. After nearly a week she was getting used to the routine. The morning was usually taken up with rounds in the trauma unit followed in the afternoon by the completion of any work that needed to be done for the patients -- changing intravenous lines, replacing or inserting chest tubes, minor bedside surgeries, review of x-rays and other aspects of daily care. Unlike most specialists, however, trauma surgeons were not free to leave once the work was done. State law required that every level one trauma unit have qualified surgeons on site in the hospital twenty-four hours a day, as well as stipulating which specialists needed to be available for immediate backup call. All of which meant that there were sometimes lengthy periods during a twenty-four hour shift when the entire team was just waiting.

  Jude exited the elevator on the top floor of the parking garage and walked up the ramp toward the helipad. Before she even turned the corner onto the flat rectangular landing section, she heard raised voices and an odd, repetitive pounding. She stopped abruptly when she got her first view of Sinclair and Stein. She leaned against the upright support of the elevated parking ramp and raised her videocamera.

  "You're slipping, Stein. You're out of shape," Sax taunted, dropping her right shoulder and driving past the blond. She pulled up twelve feet from the basket and sank the jump shot easily. It was two o'clock in the afternoon, and the sun beat down furiously on the concrete surface of the roof. She was in scrubs and her shirt was plastered to her back with sweat. Rivulets of moisture ran down her face, and she had to continuously wipe her eyes with her bare forearm. Surprisingly, she was four points ahead. "Yeah, looks like I'm gonna whip your butt."

  "You know, I was trying to be nice," Deb remarked conversationally as she caught the ball on its way through the basket. "Considering your age and the fact you're my boss and all."

  "Yeah, sure right," Sax grunted, unsuccessfully attempting to strip the ball from her fellow's hands as Deb dribbled hand to hand, a cocky grin on her face. "What a load of..."

  "But now I'm not feeling so charitable."

  Deb blew by her so quickly and so effortlessly, Sax was left standing with her mouth open. By the time she got her wits together, she managed to get her hands on the ball only to have Deb immediately steal it away. For the next five minutes she was treated to a display of athletic prowess that was infinitely more satisfying than anything she had ever seen in competition, because there was nothing behind it now except joy. Deb wasn't trying to beat anyone, not even her. She was just having fun. Sax made a valiant effort to get back in the game, but it soon became apparent that would only happen if Deb were feeling kindhearted.

  Finally, she called, "That's it, Stein. Gimme my ball. I don't wanna play with you anymore."

  Deb looked over and saw her chief smiling, although she was pretty sure she detected a bit of frustration in her eyes as well. Surgeons were competitive about everything; it was just the nature of the beast. Ignoring caution and diplomacy, Deb didn't even try to hide her triumphant grin. She tossed Sinclair's ball back to her, and replied, "Thanks for the game, Chief."

  "Yeah, sure right," Sax muttered. She turned, ball under her arm, and noticed Jude, fifteen feet away and still taping. "Turn that damn thing off unless you want me to toss it off the roof."

  Jude stopped the videocamera and actually held it protectively behind her back for a second before she saw the smile pulling at the corner of Sinclair's mouth. "What's the matter? Afraid to have a permanent record of you getting your ass kicked?"

  "It's her first week," Sax said, coming to stand by Jude's side. "I was going easy on her."

  "Yes, I noticed," Jude said as she looked from one to the other. Both were flushed and sweating, but neither was breathing hard. The two of them were damned attractive women, but only one of them made her heart skip a beat. Looking away from Sinclair's dazzling smile, she added, "I especially observed how you let her have a few shots there at the end."

  Deb snorted disdainfully. "Tell you what. Next time I'll take on both of you."

  "Oh no," Jude quickly countered. "Not me."

  Deb muttered something that sounded like chicken , then waved goodbye as she headed toward the elevators. Jude found herself alone with Sinclair, and for a moment she wasn't sure what to say. They were standing three feet apart, Sax with the basketball still under her arm, Jude with her camera tucked under hers. They stared at one another while a faint breeze lifted the hair at the backs of their necks but did little to cool the shimmering heat reflected from the stone surface.

  "We should get out of the sun," Jude said softly, aware that Sinclair was watching her intently.

  "You're right," Sax agreed quietly. She was hot and she wanted a drink, but mostly she wanted to touch her fingertips to the fine mist of sweat on Jude Castle's cheek. Not a good idea. The last time you had thoughts like this you ended up with your back against the wall and a stranger's hand in your pants. Time to get a grip here. "Do you play?"

  For a second, Jude couldn't make sense of the question. "Basketball?" she asked, cringing when she realized how inane she must sound.

  What else? Grinning, Sax nodded. "Yes."

  "Not well enough to put myself up against the two of you. I'd like to keep my body parts intact for a while longer."

  "It's all in fun," Sax said as she took a few steps closer to the waist high, concrete wall that edged the rooftop parking lot/helipad.

  Jude came up beside her and looked down to the street twenty stories below. "I could see that. It's a great segment."

  Sax laughed. "Do you look at everything through your camera first?"

  "I wasn't looking through my camera last night," Jude rejoined sharply before she could stop herself.

  "Ah, that's true," Sax responded evenly, momentarily surprised that Jude had brought it up, but quickly realizing that she probably shouldn't be. From their first encounter, Jude had been direct and straightforward in dealing with her. Sax rested the ball by her feet and leaned both hands on top of the wall. Still looking out over the city, she added, "Is there something I should apologize for? I didn't mean for what happened to happen..." I didn't mean for you to see. And I sure didn't mean to go off just from knowing you were watching. Frustrated at not being able to explain it to herself, let alone Jude, she shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry…"

  "No, I'm sorry," Jude acknowledged quickly, belatedly aware that Sinclair had not met anything critical by the camera remark. It wasn't the first time someone had accused her of using her lens to put a barrier between herself and the world, and she had reacted defensively. As with all good defenses, she had attacked. "Absolutely nothing happened last night that you need apologize for. My remark was way out of line."

  "No harm, no foul," Sax said, looking at her now. "Shall we simply chalk it up to unusual circumstances then?"

  "I think that would be wise," Jude said, smiling slightly. Because otherwise, we'll have to blame it on some kind of mutual insanity, and I'm not quite ready for that.

  "Agreed."

  Reluctantly, Jude started t
o turn away. "I should probably find my photographer and review this morning's tape while things are quiet. If we get a first look now, it will save us time in the long run."

  "You might want to catch some rest while you can. You never know what the night will bring."

  "Is that what you're going to do?" Jude asked, and then thought perhaps she was getting too personal.

  "No, I think I'm going to find Aaron and play a little chess. Unless you'd like a game?"

  "No thanks," Jude said hastily.

  "Are you afraid I won't be able to tolerate getting blown out of the water twice in one day?" Her delivery was light but her expression was probing.

  Jude averted her gaze and backed up several steps. "I have no doubt you could hold your own."

  "Not against you I couldn't," Sax said matter-of-factly. "But I don't mind trying. I'm curious, though, as to why you don't want anyone to know."

  "Probably because I spent ten years having people watch me play," Jude said with a tired sigh. "How in hell did you know? I doubt there's another person in this entire city who could even tell you that there's such a thing as a world chess team."

  It was Sax's turn to shrug. "Once upon a time chess was about the only thing I enjoyed. I'm just a good amateur, but whenever I'm interested in something, I read everything I can get my hands on about it. When I first started playing, you were still playing the world circuit. Who could forget a champion chess player named Castle?"

  "Believe me, I got ribbed a lot about that," Jude said, smiling for real this time.

  "Why did you quit?"

  "I was seventeen years old, and I'd been playing since I was five. I was tired of all the attention, and I was tired of traveling, and I was tired of not being a normal kid." Jude shrugged, surprised at how easily she could talk about it. She never talked about it with anyone. Melissa was probably her closest friend at the moment and she didn't even know. She'd never discussed it with Lori. Her family was still too stunned, and on some level, still too angry at her for turning away from what was so clearly an enormous talent, to even talk about it. "Then on one of the tours, I got to know some of the people who were doing a documentary about... unusual kids, and I became enchanted with the idea of filmmaking. I quit the circuit and started studying film."