Where There's Smoke (20 page)

It was Key Tackett.

Ichapter eight. smelled like a brewery.
 
Lara bent over him and shook him roughly by the shoulder.
 
"Wake up.
 
I need you to fly me to Tyler.
 
Now!"
 
He mumbled something unintelligible, shoved her away, and rolled onto his side.

Inside a rusty, wheezing refrigerator Lara found several cans of beer, some foul-smelling cheese, a shriveled orange, and a plastic container of water, which was what she had hoped for.
 
Gripping the handle, she removed the lid and tossed the entire contents into Key's face.

He came up with a roar, hands balled into fists, eyes murderous.

"What the fuck!"
 
When he saw Lara holding the dripping pitcher, he gaped at her with speechless incredulity.

"I need you to fly a young girl to Mother Frances Hospital.
 
Her right arm is hanging on by a thread and so is her life.
 
There's no time to argue about it or explain further.
 
Can you get us there without g "I can fly anywhere, anytime."
 
He swung his legs to the floor and picked up his boots.

Lara spun around and left the building.
 
The father rushed up to meet her.
 
"Did you find him?"

"He's coming."
 
She didn't elaborate.
 
He was better off not knowing that their pilot had been sleeping off a drinking hinge.
 
The mechanic was standing beside a helicopter, giving them the thumbsup signal.

"What's your name?"
 
she asked the young father as they hurried across the tarmac.

"Jack.
 
Jack and Marion Leonard.
 
Our daughter's Letty."

"Help me get Letty to the helicopter."

Together they lifted her out of the station wagon and rushed her toward the helicopter.
 
Marion trotted along beside them, holding up the bag of glucose.
 
By the time they reached the chopper, Key was in the pilot's seat.

He'd already started the engine; the rotors were turning.
 
The Leonards were too worried about their daughter to notice that his shirt was unbuttoned and that he desperately needed a shave.
 
At least his bloodshot eyes had been concealed with a pair of aviator sunglasses with mirrored lenses.

Once they were aboard, he swiveled his head around and looked in Lara's direction.
 
"All set?"

She nodded grimly.
 
They lifted off.

It was too noisy to carry on a conversation, but there was nothing to say anyway.
 
The Leonards clung to each other while Lara monitored the girl's blood pressure and pulse.
 
She trusted that Key knew how to reach the heliport at Mother Frances Hospital.
 
He had slipped on a headset; she saw his lips moving against the mouthpiece.

He turned and shouted back at her, "I found their frequency and am talking to the trauma team.
 
They want to know her vital signs."

"Blood pressure fifty over thirty and falling.
 
Pulse one forty and thready.
 
Tell them to alert a vascular surgeon and an orthopedic specialist.
 
She'll eventually need both.
 
I've started an IV."

"Did you give her an anticoagulant?"

She'd debated that but had decided against it.
 
"She's too young.

The bleeding is temporarily under control."

Key transmitted the information.
 
Lara continued to check Letty's blood pressure, breathing, and pulse.
 
She strove for objectivity but it was difficult when the patient was this young, this helpless, and this seriously injured.

Occasionally Marion would reach over and touch her unconscious daughter's hair or stroke her cheek.
 
Once she ran her thumb across Letty's plump toes.
 
That distinct maternal gesture wrenched Lara's heart.

As the outskirts of the city slid beneath them, Key spoke again.

"The trauma unit is standing by.
 
They've given us permission for a hot landing."

Letty's shallow breathing stopped suddenly.
 
Lara dug her fingers deep into the child's neck but couldn't feel a pulse.

Jack Leonard cried out in alarm.
 
"What is it?
 
Doctor?
 
Doctor!"

"She's arrested."

"My baby!
 
Oh, God, my baby!"
 
Marion screamed hysterically.

Lara bent over the girl and placed the heels of her hands just beneath her sternum.
 
She pushed hard several times, trying to stimulate the heart with chest compressions.
 
"No, Letty, no.
 
Fight.
 
Please.

How much farther, Key?"

"I can see the hospital."

She sealed her mouth over Letty's nostrils and mouth and blew air into them.
 
"Don't die.
 
Don't die, Letty," she whispered fervently.

"Oh, Christ!"
 
Jack cried hoarsely.
 
"She's gone.

"Letty!"
 
Marion screamed.
 
"Ah, God, please.
 
No!"

Lara didn't even hear their hysterical cries.
 
Her attention was focused on the small body as she pushed rhythmically on the narrow chest and alternately rendered mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

When she felt a blip of a pulse, she gave a shout of relief.
 
The child's chest rose and fell as her breathing resumed.
 
Lara continued to render CPR.
 
The pulse was feeble but her heart was beating again.

"We've got her back!"

Key set the chopper down.

The trauma team approached, ducking the rotor blades.
 
Lara relinquished her patient and helped hold Marion back as they hustled the child onto a gurney and into the emergency room.
 
They followed, but a nurse intercepted them and directed them into a waiting area.

"I want to be with my baby."
 
Marion strained toward the disappearing gurney.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, you have to wait out here.
 
She's getting the best medical attention possible."

Lara nodded understanding to the nurse.
 
"I'll see to her.
 
Thank you.

Together, she and Jack got Marion into the waiting area.
 
He spoke to her soothingly.
 
"I've got to go call our folks, "Go ahead.
 
I'll stay with her."

"No," Marion said, firmly shaking her head.
 
"I want to be with Jack."

She couldn't be dissuaded.
 
Supporting each other, the couple shuffled off to locate the public telephones.

"Is the kid going to make it?"

At the sound of Key's voice close behind her, Lara turned.
 
He was watching the Leonards as they moved down the corridor.

"It'll be touch and go.

"You almost lost her, didn't you?"
 
His gaze shifted to her.
 
"And you fought like hell to get her back."

"That's my job."

After a moment he asked, "What about her arm?"

"I don't know.
 
She may lose it."

"Shit."
 
He slipped his sunglasses into the breast pocket of his shirt, which he'd taken time to button before following them into the hospital.
 
"I need some coffee.
 
Want some?"

"No, thank you."

"Whenever you're ready to go back to Eden Pass-" Lara was shaking her head.
 
"I'll wait here with them.
 
At least until she's out of surgery.

Feel free to leave whenever you like.
 
I'll find a way back."

He gave her a hard look, then said curtly, "I'm going for coffee."

Lara watched him as he moved down the sterile corridor, his gait straight and steady except for a slight limp that favored his right ankle.
 
In spite of his dishevelment, one would never guess she had roused him from a drunken stupor a short while ago.

He'd set the chopper down between a multilevel parking garage and the hospital building.
 
It was tricky piloting.
 
His boast of being able to fly anywhere at any time wasn't an empty one.

The Leonards returned from making their telephone calls and began their long vigil.
 
When Key returned, he brought with him several cups of coffee and vending machine snacks.
 
Lara introduced him to the anxious couple.

"We can never thank you enough," Marion told him tearfully.

"No matter how it turns out, if you hadn't gotten us here, Letty she .

.

He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, rather than diminish the gravity of the situation with empty platitudes.
 
"I'll be back in a while."

With no further explanation, he left.

Reports from the operating room were agonizingly slow in coming.

Each time the OR nurse approached the waiting area, the three of them tensed.
 
But her message on these brief and periodic visits was that the surgeons were doing all they could to stabilize Letty and save her arm from amputation.

It was busy in the ER that morning.
 
Several people had sustained serious injuries in the wreck on the interstate.
 
It had involved three vehicles, including a van filled with senior citizens on a field trip.

The staff was harried, but from what Lara could see they were competent.

Key returned about an hour later, bringing with him a large shopping bag from Walmart.
 
He extended it to Lara and Marion.

"I thought y'all'd be more comfortable if you got out of those clothes."

Inside the sack they found slacks and T-shirts.
 
Their clothes had grown stiff with Letty's blood.
 
They used the nearest restroom to wash up and change.
 
When Jack tried to reimburse Key, he wouldn't hear of it.

"You're Barney Leonard's son, aren't you?
 
You run the laundry and dry cleaners for your daddy now, don't you?"

"That's right, Mr.
 
Tackett.
 
I didn't figure you knew me."

"You're doing a hell of a job on my shirts.
 
Just the right amount of starch," Key told him.
 
"That's repayment enough."

Jack solemnly shook his hand.

Their kinfolk arrived about an hour later, along with the Leonards' pastor.
 
The subdued group huddled together and prayed for Letty's life.
 
During her medical career Lara had witnessed many such scenes and no longer felt uncomfortable in the face of personal tragedy.

But Key obviously felt out of place.
 
He paced the hallway and frequently disappeared.
 
Each time he left, Lara figured he had flown the borrowed helicopter back to Eden Pass, but he always returned and asked if there had been any news on Letty's condition.
 
During one of these unspecified absences, he had shaved and tucked in his shirttail.

The improvements made him look marginally respectable.

Almost seven hours after Letty was wheeled into surgery, a paunchy, middle-aged man in blue scrubs entered the waiting room and called their name.
 
The Leonards stood and grasped each other's hands, bracing themselves for what they were about to hear.

"I'm Dr.
 
Rupert."
 
He introduced himself as the vascular surgeon.