Double Jeopardy (2 page)

How could it happen and she not know? The room whirled around her and she worried that she was going to be sick or would pass out. “Gemma was hit in the face, a piece of lumber a forklift was moving. Her face is...she’s badly hurt.” Her voice seemed to come from a long distance away, and she barely heard the shocked gasps and exclamations of alarm that greeted her words.

“I’ll drive. Which hospital?” Maisie grabbed her own purse and raincoat, then Sera’s.

“St. Joe’s, but I have my car. I can, I’m--”

“Not in this lifetime. You’re in no shape to drive, you’re in shock. And parking’s a nightmare down there. I’ll drop you. Don’t argue.”

Moments later, they were in Maisie’s battered old Volvo, and as her friend skillfully negotiated the busy streets, Sera knew that Maisie was right. She wouldn’t have been capable of driving. Her entire body was trembling uncontrollably, as over and over again her brain replayed the nightmarish image of her sister’s face being smashed with a heavy piece of lumber.

“Now, don’t get crazy until you know what the score is,” Maisie admonished. “Things aren’t usually as bad as we imagine. If she needs plastic surgery there’ll be someone excellent to do it. Plastic surgery these days is a cinch. You remember I told you my sister’s boy in Idaho was born with a cleft palate. They did such a good job you can’t even tell....”

Sera barely heard Maisie’s reassuring patter, but the sound of her voice was at least a distraction. When they reached the street in front of St. Joe’s, Maisie nonchalantly stopped, blocking a lane of traffic. Horns blared and hands gave her the finger. Maisie ignored everything except Sera.

“I’ll send good thoughts. You let me know if you need a ride home or anything at all. I’ll leave my cell on. You do the same, okay?” Maisie leaned across and enveloped her in a bear hug, oblivious to the noise from the trapped cars behind them. “Good luck. I’m out of practice, but I’ll pray.”

“Thanks, Maise.” Sera was out of the car and running for the entrance to the ER before Maisie pulled away.

Ben rotated his arms and tipped his head back to ease the knot between his shoulder blades. For two hours and forty minutes, his mind had been entirely consumed with the delicate surgery necessary to stabilize his patient, and now that it was done he was suddenly stiff and weary. Yet knowing that everything had gone as well as it possibly could have was exhilarating.

Without stopping to remove his operating room garb, Ben headed out to the waiting room, where a nurse had told him Gemma’s relatives had gathered. The small room smelled of stale coffee, sweat and fear and was crammed full of people, standing, sitting, crouched in corners. If these were all Cardano relatives, Gemma had a big family. The ear- splitting clamor of voices subsided immediately when Ben entered.

Gemma’s father hurried over, his arm around a plump, pretty middle-aged woman with a mass of graying curls. The strained expression on their faces told Ben how frightened they both were. He gave them a reassuring smile and reached out to shake their hands.

“I’m Dr. Ben Halsey.”

“Aldo Cardano, and this is my wife, Maria. How is she? How’s our Gemma?”

“She’s doing well. She’s in Recovery. You can see her in a few minutes. I’ve stabilized her fractured jaw and inserted a tracheal tube. I should warn you she looks pretty battered. It’ll be ten days to two weeks before we can fully repair the facial structure. I’m confident we can expect a good result at that time. There shouldn’t be any loss of vision. The fractures didn’t involve what we call the floor of the orbit, the bones that support the eyeballs. However, she might lose her sense of smell. We’ll just have to wait and hope that doesn’t happen. We’ll be keeping a close eye on her, watching for any signs of infection or excess swelling. But your daughter’s young and strong. Chances are she’ll do just fine.”

A buzz of relief and renewed concern circled the room, and it seemed as if everyone drew in a deep breath and exhaled it.

Aldo Cardano’s soulful eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, Dr. Halsey. Thank you very much.”

“This tra— This tube.” Maria Cardano frowned at Ben. “Does that mean she can’t breathe properly on her own?”

“
No. The tube’s a precaution because she’s un-conscious and because she’s had extensive damage to her jaw. With the jaw wired, we don’t want her to choke.” Ben smiled at the woman reassuringly, thinking how attractive she was with her strong features and smooth, nearly unlined olive skin

“Why do you have to wait so long before you operate on her face? Why not do it right away?” Maria wanted details.

“It’ll be a long operation, and we want Gemma to recover from the trauma of the accident before we proceed. Also, I need to do some preliminary work first.” Ben explained how he planned to rely on CT scans and computer technology to prepare for the surgery. Aldo appeared confused, but Maria nodded.

“Basically, I’ll do a three-dimensional reconstruction of her uninjured face and then use it as a template.”

“Like a pattern for how she looked before?” Maria shook her head. “But, doctor, you don’t need a computer for that.” Maria motioned with a hand. “Seraphina, come over here, carissima.”

Mystified, Ben watched as a young, slender woman who’d been standing nearby and listening intently to their conversation moved over to Maria. She was obviously Maria and Aldo’s daughter; she had her mother’s bone structure and her father’s long, straight nose and huge, deep-set brown eyes. Her golden-brown hair was long and loose. Untidy strands curled around her face; reflexively, she raised a hand and shoved them back.

She wasn’t tall. Ben was five eleven, and he guessed her about five six, but her perfect posture gave the illusion of height.

“This is Gemma’s sister, Sera.” Maria spoke as if that solved the matter.

“Hello, Sera.” Ben studied her. She had arresting good looks. “Your sister and you resemble each other?”

“Yes, we do,” she said in a quiet, resonant voice. “Gemma and I are identical twins.”

CHAPTER TWO

Identical twins?

Having a living model for the extensive reconstructive procedure he’d be performing on Gemma Cardano was a stroke of amazing luck, Ben reflected. It would make the computer imaging much simpler.

This was a fascinating situation, one he’d never encountered before, one that intrigued him. He grinned at Sera, delighted. “That’s fantastic, Ms. Cardano.”

“Sera, please.”

“Sera, then. An uninjured model to work from will simplify the process immensely. I’ll need you to come to my office, if that’s possible?”

She nodded.

“The office is right across the street from the hospital. Call my nurse and set up a convenient time. We’ll take some photographs. They’ll be helpful in the OR.” His professional eye was gauging the curve of her cheekbone, the angle of her nose, the line of her jaw, and several moments passed before he realized his scrutiny was making her uncomfortable.

She met his gaze, but her color had heightened, and it dawned on Ben that Sera Cardano was a trifle shy.

“Sorry.” He smiled at her and shifted his attention to the other people in the room. They were all silent, resolutely watching him and Sera, waiting for whatever else he had to tell them, and now it was his turn to be a bit uncomfortable. For a few moments he’d literally forgotten everyone except Sera Cardano.

“Mr. and Mrs. Cardano, the nurse will let you know when you can see your daughter. Swelling and discoloration are common in her type of injury. Also, there’s always a fair amount of bleeding. So be prepared.”

“How—how will she eat with her jaw wired shut?” Maria Cardano looked devastated. Ben surmised that food was important to her.

“We’ve inserted an enteric feed into Gemma’s stomach—a tube that allows for continuous feeding. It’s the easiest on the body for a while. It’ll be there until we take out the trach tube.”

“How long will she have to have her jaw wired?” Aldo’s face was creased with worry, al- though he managed to keep his voice level.

“About six weeks. Once the trach tube comes out she’ll be able to drink her meals.”

Ben was trying his best to give them positive news along with the negative, but of course they were in shock as they faced the full extent of their daughter’s injuries and the side effects.

“If you have any concerns at all, please phone me,” he said when it seemed they had no other questions. “I’ll give you my pager number.” He reached for a pen, forgetting that he was still in scrubs.

Sera handed him a pen and a small pad of paper from the voluminous pockets of her denim overalls, and he scribbled down his number. He noticed that her fingernails were short and unpolished, her hands stained with something blue, and he wondered for an instant if she worked in construction like her sister. Then, amid a chorus of thanks, he left the room.

In the hallway, a tall, wiry man was leaning against the wall, head down, arms folded across his chest, broad shoulders slumped in dejection. He glanced up and straightened as Ben came by.

“Dr. Halsey? Doctor, how’s Gemma?” His deep voice echoed with concern and apprehension. His rugged face was ashen beneath its tan, and his huge workman’s hands were trembling. “My name’s Jack Kilgallin. I—I was driving the forklift that hit her. The nurse over there said that maybe you would tell me how she is. I don’t want to intrude on the family, but I really need to know how she’s doing.”

Ben recognized him as the man Leslie had pointed out earlier by the phones. The poor bastard was obviously suffering the horrors of hell. Ben knew all too well how it felt to watch a friend come close to death because of an accident.

Several years ago Greg Brulotte, Ben’s best buddy, careered off a cliff while the two of them were skiing. Greg had recovered fully, but Ben still had nightmares where he stared helplessly into a deep ravine, knowing he had no way to get to Greg, feeling it would be his fault if Greg died. The memory haunted him, and made him want to reassure this man.

“She’s in Recovery, Mr. Kilgallin. All we can do now is wait. The next twenty-four hours are crucial, but I believe she’ll come through fine. She’s a very strong young woman. The prognosis is good.” Ben reached out a hand and squeezed the other man’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself, Mr. Kilgallin.” His voice was gruff with compassion. “Accidents can happen to anybody.”

Kilgallin’s face contorted and he gulped. He was on the verge of tears. “I can’t believe what took place. It was so fast. I looked away for one single minute, I glanced over at the crane operator. Gemma just appeared out of nowhere. I should’ve seen her sooner. Damn, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Hindsight’s always a hundred percent”

“Will—will you be able to fix her face? She’s— she’s a real good-looking girl.”

“I’ll do my best. I promise you that. Similar procedures have had very positive results. I don’t see any reason that shouldn’t be the case with Gemma.”

Ben’s beeper went off. It was his office number and he remembered that he’d forgotten to call Dana about rescheduling his afternoon appointments. She’d give him the sharp side of her tongue, and he deserved it.

He’d better get a move on; Dana wasn’t the only one who hated keeping patients waiting. "I’ve gotta go. Don’t be too hard on yourself, Mr. Kilgallin.”

Kilgallin shrugged.

Ben hurried off down the corridor, forgetting about Kilgallin and thinking of Gemma and Sera Cardano, instead. He wondered how many times a surgeon had had a living replica of a patient to use as a model in reconstructive surgery. He couldn’t remember reading about a single documented case history. Perhaps he’d write this one up for JAMA, the Journal of the American Medical Association. He changed quickly and then rode the elevator down to street level and raced out the main exit doors. The rain had stopped, and Ben totally forgot the raincoat he’d abandoned hours before in the ER.

The nurse told the Cardanos that each visit should last just ten minutes, with a maximum of two people at a time. Sera’s mother and father went in first. When they came out they both started weeping, their faces ashen.

“She...it’s awful, Sera.” Maria struggled for words. “She doesn’t look like—like herself,” she finally gasped, and Sera steeled herself as she headed into Intensive Care.

During the first few seconds the disturbing sights and sounds from other patients registered, but as she neared the bed where her unconscious sister lay, Sera was aware only of Gemma, and of her own heart pounding. She felt icy-cold and dizzy. Gemma was propped up on pillows, and she was truly unrecognizable.