Death of an Intern (25 page)

K
at was in surgery when Jerry and Marsha arrived. Jerry seemed calm, or maybe he was just numb. He wouldn't leave me to go check on Kat, even when I insisted I was all right. Marsha went to the surgery waiting room. Sometime later—it seemed like hours—I was released. Jerry and I joined Marsha.

A nurse came out of the operating room a little after midnight and told us Kat's surgery was a success to the extent that she was out of danger. She would remain in recovery for at least an hour or more.

Jerry suggested we get something from the cafeteria.

I wanted to stay close to Kat. Max, at my request, had gotten permission for me to be listed as family so that I could be allowed in Kat's eventual room of destination. I wanted to be a friendly face when she revived.

Jerry agreed. “At least you'll be getting some rest.”

He and Marsha left for the cafeteria and I to the elevator. Walking slowly to Kat's room, I hurt more than I would have admitted. Shortly later, Max arrived.

He filled me in on the accident scene. “Because I fired my gun, I am on administrative leave. A normal procedure and not my first time. The chief wants to see me in the morning, which is now only a few short hours away.”

“Does this mean trouble for you?” I asked, genuinely worried.

“No. I just won't carry my gun or go out on calls. I'm a little hungry. Want me to bring you something?”

“Jerry and Marsha are in the cafeteria. Hopefully, the hospital has my kind of food.”

Max grinned. “One can only hope.” He left.

The easy chair in Kat's room folded out into a bed.

It seemed like only minutes had passed when Kat was wheeled in. The reality was that I had dozed off and been in her room close to an hour and a half. The nurse asked me to wait outside while they got Kat properly hooked up and situated. Kat was conscious, and we exchanged smiles.

Jerry, Marsha, and Max were sitting in folding chairs just outside Kat's room. Jerry came to me and took me to his chair. “We didn't want to wake you.”

Max was paged and went to the nurses' station.

In a few minutes, a nurse let us into Kat's room. She was awake, but groggy. Her left leg was in a cast from hip to ankle and was elevated, her toes above her head. On the same side, a second cast ran from Kat's shoulder to her fingertips. It, too, was supported from above. Her black and blue face was partly obscured by a head bandage.

“The pain was awful,” Kat said in a faint and raspy voice. “They wouldn't give me anything until…”

She was fading.

I assured her that all reports for her recovery were excellent.

She was asleep.

The nurse returned and checked the flow from the IV. Most everything else was observed from readouts in the room and at the nurse's station. It was nice to see that there was some personal care as well. Max rejoined us.

“She's a lucky girl,” the nurse said.

Jerry nudged me. “I really think we need to get you home.”

“What, no Siberia?”

“Come to think of it…”

“It was probably some drunk,” I insisted.

“Doubtful. The car has been ID'd. It belonged to Milo Bannini, formerly of Atlanta, Georgia, and employed by—”

“George Manchester?” I blurted.

The nurse gave me a dirty look.

Max made an eye movement at the nurse, and then whispered. “He'd been living in Arlington the past two years. He was Manchester's driver.”

“I assume he didn't survive,” I asked.

“You assume correctly,” Jerry said. “Come on, let's—”

“Is somebody going to call on Mr. Manchester?”

Max glanced at the nurse, who seemed not to be listening, and whispered to me, “Our friends are handling it.”

“They're joining the party?”

“Mr. Brown thought they could help,” Max said.

“You all think it was a deliberate attack on me, don't you?”

Jerry nodded.

“That means I'm to blame for Kat.” My voice cracked.

“We're leaving,” my husband said in a hushed but firm voice as he took my arm.

“Don't blame yourself,” Marsha joined in.

“He worked for the man who does favors,” I said disgustedly.

“You all need to leave the room,” the nurse said impatiently.

Marsha said, “I'll stay.”

“No…” I began to protest.

“Yes!” Jerry interrupted, tugging my arm. “We are leaving.”

I got his message and was too tired to argue. “Marsha, call if there's any change for the worse. Who is calling Kat's parents?”

Max answered. “The doctor called Mr. and Mrs. Turner right after surgery. Her parents' names and number were in her wallet. Her mother is flying in tomorrow morning on the earliest flight possible. Now go home.”

“Marsha, the chair opens into a single bed,” I instructed.

“We'll take care of that,” the nurse imposed curtly.

Jerry took my arm. “Good. That wraps this up. We are out of here.”

“I'd sure like to be a fly on the wall in the White—well, you know,” I quipped lamely.

Max and Jerry ushered me out of Kat's room. The nurse closed the door.

“The White House may know already,” Max whispered. “Secret Service Agent Donna Talbot came upon the accident scene and administered to Kat. She has probably reported her caretaking role. Do you remember her being there?”

I shook my head.

“Enough!” Jerry said intensely, beginning to move me.

I resisted. That was the wrong move.

His eyes bored into mine. I saw his anger. “We are leaving!”

“All right,” I said feebly.

We three walked toward the elevator.

Max filled us in. “Talbot, Carr, and another woman, who may very well have been the FBI mole, were interviewed by MPD at the scene.”

“How soon will our friends get with Mr. M?”

Max looked at his watch. “I imagine they've been with him the last couple of hours.”

“The accident has probably been covered for tomorrow's paper, but…”

“Your name won't be in it. Your name and Ms. Turner's have been withheld pending notification of family,” Max assured me.

“I'll need details on Bannini for Lassiter.”

“Max can fax them to you,” Jerry suggested. “Right now, we are going home. Say goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Max,” said I.

J
erry was not a happy camper. He wouldn't talk to me on our way home. I had put him through a lot these past two weeks. At a time when we should be happy about our child-to-be, I was embroiled in a major story with some dangerous people. I kept silent.

Once we were in the apartment, Jerry opened up. “I want you to quit this assignment, investigation, whatever you want to call it. Remember, you have said Manchester does favors. Bannini was his employee.”

“I've created it. I can't quit.”

“I'm not alone. Max is worried, and I'm sure Lassiter—”

“This is my biggest story—”

“And I don't want it to be your last!”

My adrenaline was pumping. “That's ridiculous!”

“Oh? Two accidents that could have been attempts on your life? On our baby's life. I understand your lack of objectivity, but I don't like the attitude you have about your safety.”

I felt flushed and began to shake. “You can't take this away from me,” I half weakly said. “I've worked too hard…a story like this may never come my way again. Ever! This may be my only chance.”

“I understand all that. But you've got to understand that there are people out there who are scared and may want to eliminate you.”

“This means I'm on the right track. Can't you see that?”

“Oh, I do, all too well. That's what upsets me. But you are not doing anything to protect yourself. You're going on like—”

“I want this baby. God knows I've tried hard enough to have one. I'm not jeopardizing myself on purpose. I don't think anyone is out to kill me. After all, Kat was hurt more than I was, maybe she was—” I stopped short. “Oh my God. He could have been after Kat because she was with me.”

“Or both of you.”

“Maybe they're watching Kat. I called her. Maybe they know about me and Marsha, and that Marsha's the go-between. Oh, how dumb of me.”

“Finally! That's what I have been talking about! Maybe Manchester is behind everything. That stolen car's sole use could have been to run you off the road. It's totally untraceable.”

“Then this cannot be a serial killer. All of that takes organization.” My mind was going a mile a minute. I needed to separate the serial killings from the sexual abuse.

Jerry softened his look. “It doesn't matter who is trying to kill you.”

I was dog-tired. “All right, what kind of protection do you have in mind?”

He came over and sat beside me. “I love you. You are very precious to me. You don't know the nightmares I was having driving to the hospital. Marsha was crying. Max had reassured me you were all right, but it was the idea that you could have been lost to me forever…”

He had tears in his eyes. I hadn't honestly considered how this all really affected him. Only that he wouldn't like it, might be upset. I'd never thought about how deeply his emotions went. I put a hand on his arm.

“Oh, Jerry, I'm sorry, I—”

He started to reply.

“No, I mean I'm really sorry for the way I have acted. The verity of what you said…I haven't been thinking clearly. I've never had anyone as close as you. I love you deeply. We've never had to deal with a major gnashing of the teeth before. I think I'm always open with you, but the truth is I don't know how,” I said contritely, sniffling.

He slid his arm in behind me and pulled me close. He was soft and gentle and caring. I gave way, releasing my tension, and the tears flowed.

“Breathe deeply and slowly,” he said softly, his lips next to my ear. “There is nothing I would ever do to hurt you, and I don't want you hurting yourself. Please, I want to take care of you. I know how independent and recalcitrant you can be. I assure you, giving over to my care will not take away from who you are.”

“To collapse on this story,” I sniffled, “would mean Lassiter and the brass would never trust me on another big story.” I held him harder. I needed him.

“I don't want that to happen. I don't want you losing your editor's confidence, but I do want you safe, out of harm's way.”

He made sense. I could be my own worst enemy. I am sometimes devoid of rational thinking when it comes to my safety. That whole thing with Kat shouldn't have happened. The tears came again. I clutched Jerry.

Maybe I didn't really understand love beyond loving. Mom popped into my head. She hadn't been a rat when she told Dad what I had told her in confidence. She deeply loved her husband. Maybe she was trying to reason with him. I felt shame over that for the first time ever.

Jerry slid off the sofa and elevated my legs. “Rest.” He went out and came back with a box of tissues that he set on the coffee table. “Can I get you something else?”

“Some water.”

He came back with two bottles and kneeled alongside me, elevating my head. I downed successive gulps, took a couple of deep breaths, and finished off the first bottle. He opened the second one. I took another drink and then laid my head on his arm.

We had been married for three years, made love hundreds of times, but this feeling coming from him, what I was feeling in me, it was all new. It was spiritual. Ethereal. I sensed for the first time, the meaning of two being one.

“I am so lucky to have you. I bring you nothing but trouble…”

He stopped me, putting a finger to my lips. “You bring me love. You are someone I can and do love. We are going to have something very special, I hope.”

He was quipping with me, but I was too tired to laugh. “I have to stay on this Jerry. It'll make up for all those
almost
times, the near misses.”

“Somebody is really scared of you. I won't and can't take anything away from you. This is your work. I didn't mean to give you ultimatums. I love you too much for that, but I am asking you to accept precautions. Listen to Max. Talk with Lassiter. You need objectivity from both. But mostly right now, you have to get some sleep.”

I nodded faintly. He picked me up and carried me into the bedroom, laid me on the bed, and covered me. He kissed me lightly.

Oh, how good that felt.

“Get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up, whenever that is. I'm turning off the alarm, the house phones, and hiding your cell phone.”

“I need to finish this story.”

“I need my wife and child to be around for a long, long time.”