Sleight of Hand (6 page)

Cassie stared up at the older man.  She fought to keep her voice down and lost the battle.  She wasn't about to be patronized or have her skills criticized by anyone, not even the Chief of Pediatrics.  "What are you trying to say?  That I made a mistake starting the IO?  He'd been seizing for over an hour, his veins were collapsed–"

He held up a hand.  His voice remained civil, gentlemanly, as he continued.   "All I'm saying is that if you'd followed protocol and called me, I might have been able to save a very sick little boy who's been through more pain and suffering than either of us can imagine from another painful procedure."

"He needed the IO.  I don't know what she," Cassie jerked her head toward the alcove's opening, indicating Virginia Ulrich, "told you, but if she hadn't waited so long–"

"Virginia explained that already," Sterling interrupted her, his voice now revealing a trace of steel.  "You have no idea what Virginia and her family have been through.  I've been doing this for over thirty years and it still amazes me how well she's been able to cope with her sons' illnesses.  A lesser woman would have been devastated."  

He paused, laid a hand on Cassie's arm.  She shook it off.  "I know about you, Dr. Hart.  What you've been through."  

"Dr. Sterling." Cassie's fingers curled into tight fists as she tried to keep her composure. There was no door on the alcove.  Everyone at the nurses' station could hear them.  "This isn't the place–"

"I'm concerned about you, Dr. Hart.  Have you considered that perhaps you returned to work too soon?"

Cassie snapped, her patience at an end.  "That's none of your business."

Sterling grew rigid, his expression now remote.  He took a step back, as if Cassie somehow threatened him.  "All I'm asking is that if you're ever faced with a patient of mine again, you'll do me the courtesy of calling me first before you perform any painful or dangerous procedures."

Before Cassie could reply, Sterling backed out of the alcove and was gone.  She took a step after him, determined to defend herself further, but pulled up short when she saw the faces of parents, nurses and residents staring at her.  Including Adeena, whose expression was one of incredulity.  

This wasn't the time or the place, Cassie told herself as she struggled to master her anger.  She glanced once more at Charlie Ulrich, now huddled against his mother's shoulder.  She had done the right thing for him, she was certain.

But that was cold comfort as she walked through the sliding doors of the PICU,  disapproving stares following her.

Adeena joined Cassie out in the hallway.  "Sterling was only trying to help.  And you–practically accusing Virginia of child abuse.  If you had any idea what that woman's been through–"

"I thought I was doing what was best for her son," Cassie protested.  Adeena's indignation hurt more than Sterling's accusations of incompetence.  She turned away and walked toward the stairwell, her ankle yammering at her, punctuating Adeena's words.

"I know you, Cassie.  Once you get into your crusader mode it's impossible to stop you.  But, trust me, you're wrong this time.  I was with Virginia after Georgie, her first son, died.  I'm surprised she survived it.  Then Charlie was born, and Sterling watched him like a hawk, hoping he wouldn't follow in his brother's footsteps."

Cassie leaned against the concrete wall of the stairwell, her head bowed as she listened.  To watch your child die–how terrible would that be?  She thought of her own mother and her choice to sacrifice herself rather than risk any harm to her unborn child.  Was that the kind of mother Virginia Ulrich was?

"Then Charlie got sick.  For Virginia it was like losing Georgie all over again.  But she got through it.  Somehow all this has made her stronger, given her the energy to care for Charlie and reach out to help other families in need.  To tell the truth," Adeena continued, her tone softer as she lay a hand on Cassie's arm, "Virginia has always reminded me of you in some ways."

"Me?" Cassie asked with a frown.  She'd never had the responsibility of caring for an ill child day after day.  Even the thought of raising a healthy child filled her with apprehension.

"You."  Adeena smiled.  "You're both strong willed, relentless, stubborn.  And you would sacrifice anything to help the people you love."  

"Trust me," Adeena continued, "I've known Virginia for years.  There's no way she could ever harm her son.  And even though Sterling can be a pompous ass, he really is the best.  I guess he's a lot like you, too–gets over-protective of his patients."

Cassie was happy to be wrong, that meant that Charlie was in no danger.  But something still didn't feel right.

Adeena shook her head, her braids jangling in impatience.  "Isn't it about time that you concentrated your energy on what's really important?"

"Like what?"  Her work had always been the center of her life.

"Like Drake.  You finally found a man who truly cares for you.  Are you going to let all that just slip away?"

"It was so much easier when Richard and I met," Cassie muttered, remembering the dazzling way Richard had romanced her.  Their first date he'd hired a boat to take them on a moonlight cruise along the Monongahela.  They'd danced all night.  She'd almost forgotten that.  Sometimes it was so easy to forget that there ever had been any good times with Richard.

Adeena scoffed.  "That was lust, not love.  You have to work hard for the real thing."

That coaxed a reluctant smile from Cassie.  "Now you sound like Rosa."

"Your grandmother was a very wise woman, so I'll take that as a compliment."

"Anyway, I'm not in love with Drake.  I just don't want things to end like this..."  She trailed off, her conflicting emotions confusing her.  How would she know love, anyway?  Maybe Drake was right to want to go slow.   

"Were you worried about Virginia's treatment of Charlie when you first met her in the ER?" Adeena asked.  Cassie looked up in surprise.  "You weren't, were you?  I know you.  Things start to go badly with Drake, so what do you do?  Find the first lost child that needs help, a cause you can throw your energies into, anything easier than dealing with Drake."

She stared at the linoleum, reluctant to admit that Adeena might be right.  

"Go home.  Get some rest.  You look like you need it.  I'll keep an eye on Charlie, let Sterling know you only had his best interests at heart."  Adeena pushed open the door leading back to the ICU corridor.

Cassie continued down the steps and paused at the door leading to the ER.  Usually she'd give her boss, Ed Castro, a heads up when she upset someone like Sterling.  But Ed was in Washington, trying to raise funding for a community clinic that he was setting up in Drake's building in East Liberty.  

The building was the former home of the
Liberty Times
newspaper back when the Pittsburgh neighborhood had rivaled Harlem during the jazz age.  Drake was slowly rehabbing the sorely neglected building and had given Ed the space for free, but Ed still needed a large chunk of change before he could start. 

She stopped, her hand frozen against the doorway.  Ed was meeting with a bunch of politicians during his trip to DC.  One of them was the senator from western Pennsylvania, George Ulrich.

Had to be a coincidence.  It couldn't be the same family, could it?  Ulrich wasn't that uncommon of a name.  There was also a lawyer in Richard's brother's firm named Ulrich.  Cassie went through the door, oblivious to the chaos swirling through the ER as she made her way to the woman's locker room.  Had her impetuousness endangered the clinic, a life-long dream of Ed Castro's?

The sunshine ambushed her when she emerged outside.  April had just arrived, and Pittsburgh was celebrating with a glorious succession of mild, sun-filled days.   Cassie turned her face to the sun, squinting at her guardian angel beside the entrance.  She'd hoped she'd be having a celebration dinner with Drake.  Peace and quiet, a little wine, a little conversation–about something more important than the weather or baseball.  

That wasn't happening anytime soon.  She blew her breath out in exasperation.  If she hadn't over-reacted, misinterpreted his words earlier, she could be with him right now, his arms wrapped around her, sharing their strength...

Standing around never solved anything
, she thought, mimicking Gram Rosa, and started down Penn Avenue.  

A few blocks away, between Three Rivers Medical Center and the precinct house Drake worked out of, was the Blarney Stone, a bar owned by Drake's first partner.  Andy Greally was tending bar himself when she entered.

"Why, it's the good Dr. Hart."  He guided her to a bar stool with a jovial smile.  "It's nice to see you again.  You doing all right?"

"Fine, thanks," she replied, gratified by his warm greeting.  She hadn't been here since the shooting and wasn't certain how Drake's comrades would accept her presence.  Her gaze darted around the brightly lit space with its dark oak and brass trimmings.

"DJ's not here," Andy told her.  Drake had joined the force while his father was still working and so was known throughout the police bureau as Drake Junior or DJ.  "But Tony Spanos is in the back room playing pool."  He leaned across the bar toward her.  "Don't go leaving on his account.  I'd throw that bum out before I'd let a pretty girl like yourself leave."  He patted her hand.  "Now, what can I get you?"

Cassie debated leaving anyway.  Spanos was a uniformed cop who'd made a pass at her, and she'd let her temper get the best of her.  Unfortunately, she'd also humiliated Spanos in front of other police officers and made an enemy of the man.

"That's all right, I'm good," she told Andy.

"Well then, if you're not drinking, you have to try my new recipe."   He moved his bulk into the kitchen before she could demur. A minute later, he returned with a plate of heavenly smelling meat garnished with fresh asparagus.

She sniffed in appreciation.  In the excitement of her first day back at work, she'd forgotten to eat lunch.  The rumbling in her stomach decided for her as he placed the plate in front of her with a flourish.  

"Spring lamb with fennel and rosemary.  My cousin's wife in Killarney mailed me the recipe last week."

She took a first succulent bite.  Andy nodded with a smile as she rolled her eyes in appreciation.  

"Now, you want to tell me why I've the pleasure of your company this fine evening?" he asked when she came up for air.  "Not that I'm complaining, mind you.  Everything all right with DJ?"

Trust Andy to get right to the point.  She shrugged.  "The psychiatrist said he could return to desk duty."  She hoped she wasn't revealing any confidences.

He nodded.  "Jimmy Dolan told me when he was in earlier."  Jimmy was Drake's partner on the Major Crimes Squad.  "Said Miller would have DJ cleaning out the fridge–guess she's still pissed."

Commander Sarah Miller led the Major Crimes Squad and had not been pleased two months ago when she learned about Drake's involvement with Cassie, a witness in a homicide case.  

"Clean out the fridge?" Cassie asked.

"Cold case files.  You know, ones that have stumped everyone, but no one has the heart to bury them.  They're stored in a closet at the House, and every once in a while someone gets assigned the thankless job of going through them, looking for any new leads."

"But if they're older cases, isn't it more likely that you have less information as witnesses forget or move on?" 

"Sometimes with new technology like DNA testing, you catch a break.  And," he brightened, "once the shrink clears DJ to return to active duty he can get back on the streets where he belongs."

"He's good, isn't he?" 

"Of course.  I trained him, didn't I?  He's the best I've seen," he went on, "when his head's in the game.  Got a mind like a freaking camera–remembers everything.  The way he reads a crime scene, it's like he sees something different than the rest of us."

She nodded.  Drake's painting was like that.  He seemed to see beyond the superficial to what lay beneath.  "He'd be on the streets now if it weren't for him getting shot–because of me."

"You're good for him," Andy assured her.  

"I just don't know how to–what to–" she stammered, unable to finish.  She couldn't believe she was discussing her private life here in a public bar.  "What does he want?  I feel like I've done something wrong and I don't know what."

Andy cleared her dishes and swiped at the bar with a wet rag as he thought.  "DJ's never been easy.  Sometimes you just have to give him time to come to his senses."  Cassie nodded, that was the same advice Adeena had given her.  Then Andy looked up and grinned.  "But don't give him too long to sulk," he went on.  "Sometimes what the kid needs most is a swift kick in the butt."

"Thanks, Andy."  She placed a ten-dollar bill on the bar.  Andy pushed it back at her.

"You know your money's no good here." 

She slid off the stool, refusing to argue with him.  He took the bill and dropped it in a large jar with the words Children's Coalition emblazoned on it.  Cassie froze, looking at the photo below the words.  Virginia Ulrich, smiling as she cradled Charlie in her arms.

"Do you know Virginia Ulrich?"   She gestured to the jar brimming with contributions.

"Sure.  Her husband, Paul, grew up near here.  I remember when his father ran his first campaign for City Councilman.  George's gone a long way, a Senator now.  It's sad about his grandkids being so sick.  Just breaks my heart every time Virginia comes around."

Cassie nodded absently as he spoke, her focus on the photo.  Virginia smiled for the camera, her hair perfectly coiffed, makeup in place, the image of the loving mother.  But Charlie stared out at the camera, lunging, as if desperate to escape his mother's arms.

"Your money's going for a good cause," Andy assured her.  She looked at the photo again.  Surely Charlie was only squirming like a normal toddler?

What if he wasn't?  Cassie felt like she was sinking, mired in quicksand that was closing fast over her head.  What if everyone was wrong about Virginia Ulrich?