Song of the Blackbird (Albatross Prison #1) (11 page)

Cavendish dropped his eyes and fidgeted with his hands. “Okay. Don’t tell anyone I said this but it’s the cigarette smoke. They moved my bed last week closer to the bathroom and my asthma got a lot worse.” He looked up and grimaced. “They’re going to kill me if they find out. Please don’t say anything.”

“They smoke more in the bathroom?” Madison prodded.

“Yes. A lot. Especially at night.” Cavendish coughed into his hands. “That’s when my asthma acts up.”

“Isn’t smoking not allowed in here?” Emma asked. “Let’s tell Custody so they can put a stop to it.”

“No.” Little dots of perspiration popped up on Cavendish’s upper lip. “Don’t tell them. My bunkies are gonna know I snitched. And they’re gonna get back at me.”

“Custody is not going to let that happen.” Emma gave him a reassuring smile. “You should trust them. They can probably even move you to a different dorm. You’ll feel a lot better.”

“Not likely.” A mutinous expression settled over Cavendish’s face. “Can I go now? I feel better already.”

“Not yet.” Emma handed him a peak flow meter. “You need another round. And some prednisone, too. Let’s check your peak flow. You know it tells me how well your lungs are doing.”

Cavendish blew into the meter. The little balloon flew up to three fifty.

“What’s your average? Six fifty?” Emma said. “I thought so. You’re way off track. Madison, could you give him two more nebs? And sixty milligrams of prednisone by mouth, please.”

Emma racked her brain, trying to find a way to help Cavendish without risking his safety.

“Madison.” She flagged the nurse over. “So what do you think? Do they really smoke in their dorms?”

“Of course.” Madison rolled her eyes. “You didn’t know? Oh, I forgot, you’re new to the prison, right? Well, let me give you the lowdown. There’s a black market in here. Whatever you want—cigarettes, drugs, pills, downers, uppers—you can get it all for the right price.”

“But that’s horrible.” Emma reared back in shock. “Custody’s not doing anything?”

Madison scanned the room. Cavendish was a good distance away. She leaned close and whispered, “There’re some rumors going around.”

“What?”

The nurse made a locking gesture over her lips. “Family and visitors bring in most of the drugs. But I heard some staff members may be sneaking them in, too. Nobody’s ever been caught. But you didn’t hear any of this from me.” Madison gave a warning shake of her head before heading over to refill their patient’s nebulizer.

Cavendish better not have heard what they were saying. Emma shivered
. Could some staff members be the suppliers? Or was it only a rumor? How could Maxim let that happen if it were true?
The man seemed to be a stickler for the rules.

“Hey, Doc. I’m done. Can I go now?” Cavendish took off the nebulizer tube. Emma handed him the peak flow meter, her mind still racing over what she’d heard. “Six fifty, Doc. I feel much better.”

“Let me take a quick listen.” Emma applied her stethoscope. “Good, loud and clear. Here’s a new inhaler. And you’ll need to take four more days of prednisone, fifty milligrams every day. I’ll talk to Custody and get you moved.”

“But not tell them about the cigarettes, right?”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell them.”

She waved good-bye to Cavendish.
Aha.
Mr. Peterson was across the hallway. She may have a plan. “Hi, Sergeant,” she called the older man over. “Could you help me with something?”

“Sure, my dear.” The officer smiled and entered the room. “What is it?”

“Could you move Mr. Cavendish to another dorm for me?”

“But why?”

“Because it’s damp where he is right now. It makes his asthma worse.” Emma thought it was a perfect excuse. “He needs to be farther away from the bathroom. The steam from there flares up his asthma.”

“You’re a softie, Doc. Write that on the chrono and I’ll have him moved, stat.” He pulled at his mustache. “I wish we had more doctors like you. You really care about your patients, don’t you?”

“I try,” she said, forcing out a smile. “Thanks, Sergeant. I’ll give you the chrono in a second.”

Whew.
Emma breathed a sigh of relief. Madison gave her a thumbs-up sign. She wrote the chrono and handed a copy to the sergeant. Now, she had to figure out a way to tell Maxim about the cigarettes. It wasn’t going to be easy. He’d look down his long nose at her and demand proof. All she had were Cavendish’s words. And didn’t Maxim believe that all inmates lied?
Great.
Emma sighed, already dreading their encounter.

First things first, though, she had to take care of the rest of the patients in the waiting room. A cold, a first-degree burn, a sprained shoulder, a broken finger, a gallstone attack, and someone with recurrent back pain. The morning flew by in a flash.

In the afternoon, Emma rounded on the OHU patients to make sure they were doing okay. The possible flu had no fever for the last twenty-four hours so she discharged him with strict instructions to come back if he felt worse. The four diarrhea men hadn’t had diarrhea for the past twenty-four hours. Plus they were eating well and stool cultures were negative for norovirus, so she discharged them also.

Smith trailed her from room to room as she did her rounds, not saying much but keeping a wary eye on her.

“You know where I can find the warden?” Emma asked the officer at the end of the day. “I need to talk to him about something.”

“Here’s his office number.” Smith pulled a business card out of his wallet and handed it to her. “And his cell is on the back. He told me to give it to you if you ever need it.”

“His cell, too?” Emma raised her eyebrows. “Your boss is pretty available to his staff.”

“Not to everyone. Only to you it seems.” The guard winked at her and grinned. Before she could respond, he added, “So you’re done seeing patients, right? My mother’s birthday party is tonight, so I don’t want to be late.”

After sending Smith off, Emma dialed Maxim’s office and arranged with his secretary to meet him the following Monday. Apparently he’d driven away to a conference in Fresno. She didn’t know why he’d given her his cell. A warm feeling blossomed in her chest.
Could the man be interested in her?
He’d been pretty considerate in the ER. And there was something about him that drew her. Maybe it was his all-encompassing warmth. She’d always had a thing for electric blankets.
God, she was pathetic.
She needed to focus on Sam, not be mooning over his jailer.

Hmm. The office was empty. A perfect time to check up on Sam.
There was the patient’s privacy act to consider but
this was her brother, for heaven’s sake. She closed the door to the clinic before punching in Sam’s name and date of birth. Out came his CDC number. Then she clicked open the medication tab and punched in his number. Out popped his list of medications.

ZOLOFT 100 mg po qd

ABILIFY 5 mg po qhs

Emma glanced over to the right of the medication reconciliation form. Dr. Stewart was the prescribing doctor.
Hmm. How was she going to find the doctor and discuss Sam, all without raising any suspicion?
She could pretend Sam was her patient, which technically he was because she was the float. Emma covered for any doctor who was off, right? That made her the doctor for all these patients. She shook her head, knowing it was a weak argument but hey, at least it was something. She couldn’t very well announce to the shrink she was the crazy sister wanting the scoop on her equally crazy brother. No, she didn’t think that would go over very well.

Chapter 13

“Again. Do it again, Dr. Emmy,” the little boy shrieked in her ear, all the while bouncing up and down and grabbing her hand with his chubby fingers.

“Okay, Robby. Here goes.” Emma lifted him onto her back.

“Hey. My turn.” Robby’s little brother Stevie tugged at her leg. “My turn to play horsie.”

“No. Mine.” Another brother pulled at the other leg. “Dr. Emmy, me up. Me up.”

“Hold on, boys.” Emma laughed. “I can only do one at a time. Horsie is tired. Horsie has a very small back.” The other two boys flopped on their bellies and plucked at her ankles. “Hey? Did I just get shackles on my legs? Oh no, I’m a horsie prisoner.”

Delighted giggles burst around her. Emma galloped several steps in the inflatable castle on her hands and knees, trying to keep Robby on her back. Julien’s little boy was turning eight, but he weighed a ton. Her back was starting to hurt but the boys were having too good a time to quit. Robby leaned a little too much to the right and off she rolled onto her back on the bouncer, surrounded by little bodies everywhere.

It’d been a good idea to wear shorts and a T-shirt today. Otherwise she’d be baking in the castle. Someone pulled at her hair tie and out came her ponytail. A sticky hand squeezed her right foot. Someone else tickled her nose with a lock of her hair. Robbie tried to lift her shirt but thank goodness she was too quick for him. “Sorry, little boy.” She laughed and flipped on her belly. “Can’t oblige you there.”

“Too bad for us,” a lazy voice said from somewhere to her right.

Emma pushed the hair out of her face and blinked. A tall, well-built, blond Adonis stood in front of her. She shielded her eyes against the sun. No, she wasn’t imagining him. He was perfect, from the tip of his shiny blond head to the tilt of his beautiful aquiline nose to the easy grin on his firm, masculine lips. Eyes of the deepest sea-blue sparkled down at her.

“Hi, there.” She stepped out of the castle, bemused and a bit dazed. The man was drop-dead gorgeous.

“Hi, yourself.” Mr. Adonis laughed, his beautiful eyes alight with mischief. “Have I died and gone to heaven? What’s your name, Angel?”

“Behave, Stewart.” Maxim suddenly loomed next to the man and clapped him on the back. “That’s Dr. Edwards, our new doctor.”

Emma blinked a couple of times. Yes, that was Maxim next to Mr. Adonis.
What the heck was he doing at Julien’s son’s birthday party? Wasn’t he supposed to be in Fresno for a meeting?
He was dressed in a gray business suit, his silk tie perfectly aligned, his shoes polished and shining, just like every day at work.
Didn’t he realize he was at a kid’s birthday party?
He was looking at her with the oddest of expressions. Emma glanced down.
Yikes!
Half of her abdomen was exposed. She yanked her T-shirt down and forced out a smile.

“Hi, I’m Emma Edwards,” she said, reaching out to shake Mr. Adonis’s hand.

“Charles Stewart.” The blond god raised her hand to his lips. Emma took a quick step back.
Was the guy actually going to kiss it?
It seemed gallant in the movies but in real life was kind of creepy, even if it came from an Adonis. Up close, he looked older than she’d first thought. There were fine wrinkles around his eyes, which appeared a bit dissipated and bloodshot on closer inspection.

“How do you do, Mr. Stewart?”

“Why so formal?” The man put an arm around her shoulders while his other hand cradled a wine glass. “Call me Charles. And I have to call you Emma. Such an enchanting name. It matches you perfectly.”

“Thanks.” The man’s breath reeked of alcohol. “Do you work at Albatross?”

“Yes. He’s one of the psychiatrists,” Maxim said with a faint sneer.

“Psychiatrist?” Emma’s breath hitched. “Doctor Stewart?”

“Yes, darling.” He grinned and pulled her closer. “But I thought I already told you. Call me Charles.”

“Charles.” Emma held her breath.
Damn. Why did the man have to be a lush?
But no matter. It seemed the perfect opportunity to find out more about her brother. “I was hoping to meet you.”

“Really, darling?” Charles laughed and tugged her flat against his body. His eyes grinned down at her. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“I see you’ve met my ex-husband,” a familiar voice said.

No. It couldn’t be. But it was.
Of all the luck.
Kaye stood there glowering at her.
Yikes.
Emma jumped back from Charles by a mile. “Your ex?”

“Ex. Thank God. Come on, Maxim. Let’s go. There’s so much screaming, I’m getting a headache.” She looped her arm around Maxim and dragged him away.

“Well, that went well, didn’t it?” Charles twirled his wine glass, watching the red liquid spin, his face shadowed by a trace of sadness. “She’s been in love with him for years. Maybe she’ll finally get him now.”

“Who? Maxim?”

“The one and only.” Charles sighed. “The guy is filthy rich. That’s all she’s after. His money.” He tried to grab for another wine cooler, but Emma handed him a bottle of water instead.

“Sorry.” Charles grimaced, looking a little lost and confused. “I hate seeing the two of them together. And I can never hold my liquor on an empty stomach.”

“Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.” Emma filled two plates with pizza and salad, and they made their way to a table where Madison, the nurse from the Urgent Care, was sitting.

“Mind if we join you?” Emma asked.

“Not at all.” Madison’s sunny smile wilted as soon as she spotted Charles. “Actually, I forgot I promised to help Mary with something in the kitchen.” She abruptly stood and waved them a hasty good-bye.

“What was that?” Emma gave the psychiatrist a curious look as they sat.

“Beats me.” Charles shrugged. “Maddy’s kind of unpredictable.”

“Maddy? You know her from before?”

“Yes. I’ve known her for years. Her brother is a good friend of mine.” Charles twisted off the cap of his water bottle. “Anyway, let’s dig in, okay? I’m starving.”

“Sure.” Emma bit down on the pizza, wondering what the nurse had against Charles. He didn’t seem that bad. Come to think of it, most of the people she’d met today had been friendly.

Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Julien was blowing balloons for a pack of kids in one corner of the backyard while his wife Mary chased their youngest son, a toddler in the midst of a major tantrum. Dr. Churchill or Bryce as he told her to call him today was teaching Julien’s five-year-old how to ride a bicycle. Little boys and girls ran around the backyard, blowing soap bubbles and waving pretend swords. The Star Wars theme was a clear hit.

Maybe someday she could have a fraction of her surroundings
. Maybe a kid or two and a husband as devoted as Julien to share her life with. And of course, Sam would be there, roughhousing with one of her kids, drawing pictures of birds for them. He’d be free again and hopefully happy, too. She turned toward the psychiatrist.

“Dr. Stewart. I mean Charles,” she began. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Sure, Angel.” She noticed how the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “As long as it’s not about my ex.”

“Promise. It won’t be about her.” Emma swallowed. “Do you know a patient named Morris? Sam Morris?” Goose bumps spread on her arms. She took a sip of water.

“Maybe.” He bit down on a slice of pizza. “I see so many patients, they kind of blend in to one another. Why do you ask?”

The psychiatrist didn’t appear as drunk as before. She wondered how much of it had been an act for his ex. She had to jog his memory somehow. “He’s our porter in the Urgent Care. You know, about twenty-something with dark skin, five feet ten or so. He has a little limp when he walks. Really tall and lanky.”

“Oh. That Morris.” Charles snapped his two fingers together. “He’s one of my nicest patients. Always polite and respectful.”

“You think so?” Emma’s heart swelled with pride.

“Yes. Are you his medical doctor? ’Cause you know, the whole patient privacy thing.”

“Yeah. I’m his doctor.” Emma bit her lip, hating the lie. “He said he couldn’t sleep sometimes.”

“Yes. Poor guy got the crap kicked out of him.”

“What?” Emma’s hand gripped the edge of her seat.

“Yes. It was over a drug deal.” Charles took another bite of pizza. “He was in the hole for a few months. He’s doing a little better but doesn’t want to talk about it much.”

Her poor brother. No wonder he hadn’t written.
How badly had he been hurt?
Obviously he looked okay now but he must have suffered a lot. And what was this about a drug deal? Sam had told her he’d stopped using. Was that since he was beaten up or had he been sober since juvenile hall like she’d thought?

Drat. Could Sam have lied to her?
She certainly hoped not. She was going to dig it out of him somehow, and if he was back on drugs, she’d have to intervene immediately. Maybe Charles had some idea. She hated snooping on her brother, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She turned to the psychiatrist. “You think he’s back on drugs?” she asked, her heart thumping hard.

“No. I don’t think so.” Charles took a sip of water. “No one has said anything. And you know Custody does random checks on their urine.”

Thank goodness.
“Do you think he needs the meds you’re giving him?”

“Probably. He has mood swings and insomnia, too.” Charles gave her a shrewd look. “You want me to wean one of his meds?”

“What? No. Why do you ask?”

“Just the way you asked. Are you that worried about him?”

“No.” Emma shook her head and then sighed.
Who was she kidding?
She might as well speak her mind. Charles appeared like he cared. Perhaps he could help. “I mean, yes. He seemed a little paranoid when he talked to me yesterday. I want to make sure he’s doing okay.”

“I saw him a few weeks ago. He looked fine but if you’re worried, I’ll call him in and have a little chat. Make sure he’s okay.”

“You’d do that for me?” Emma felt like hugging the man.

“I’ve always been a sucker for a beautiful face.” Charles shot her his Adonis smile.

Emma smiled back.
The man was a born flirt.
“Thank you. I really appreciate it. But can you keep this between us? For patient confidentiality, you know.” She couldn’t believe she managed that without choking on the words.

“Of course. You can count on me.”

“Dr. Emmy.” Robby ran over and grabbed Emma’s hand. “Come on, we’re cutting the cake. I want you to sit right next to me.”

“Aw. How sweet, Robby. Thanks but don’t you want your mom or dad or brothers to do that?” Emma asked. Julien and Mary beckoned her with their hands. Apparently she’d become their son’s favorite after all those horsie rides. She trudged over to the cake table, holding Robby’s sticky hand.

Maxim towered near the cake, looking as formidable as ever. He’d taken off his jacket and had loosened his tie. The sleeves of his shirt had been rolled back, exposing his hairy forearms. Emma swallowed. Her insides tingled. When had she ever thought a man’s forearms were sexy? And this was the warden, for goodness’ sake. She looked up and caught his full frown.
What now?
She hadn’t opened her mouth yet and he already radiated disapproval.

Soon they all started singing the birthday song. Maxim loomed like a mountain, only a yard away. She stole a peek at his forearms and knew she was in trouble. How could she be attracted to the man? He was rude, arrogant, boorish. Opposite of what she desired in a partner. Yet he’d been there for her in the ER the other night. And he’d driven her car back for her.
And that body
.
Must he be built like a Roman conqueror?
Emma shook her head.
What was she doing?
Maxim was Sam’s jailer. The less she thought about him, the better.

“Smith said you wanted to talk with me?” Maxim suddenly asked when the song was over.

“What?” Mary was cutting the cake and divvying up the pieces. It was chocolate, her favorite. Emma snatched a piece before it all disappeared.

“You wanted to talk with me?” His voice rang with impatience.

“Oh, right.” Somehow she’d totally forgotten about the cigarettes. “I tried to call but you’d already left for your meeting.”

“Didn’t Smith give you my cell?” Maxim’s eyebrows drew together. “You can always reach me there.”

“Well, it wasn’t an emergency.” And they were at a party right now. Knowing his temper, it was probably better to wait. “Let’s talk on Monday.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” Emma took a big bite of the cake. “Well, I mean, no, not really but it can wait.”

“Why don’t you tell me now? I don’t like waiting for bad news.”

“How do you know it’s bad?”

“Your face says it all. So spit it out. Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

The corners of his lips curved up a tiny bit. Emma’s breath hitched.
Was that a hint of a smile?
She shook her head and finished off the cake. First the forearms and now that potential smile. She had to pull herself together.