Song of the Blackbird (Albatross Prison #1) (20 page)

Pictures. Dozens of them. Of the sky last night. Most were of Holmes but some were of her favorite constellations she’d told Maxim about on that car ride back to her studio from the emergency room. Cassiopeia. Canis Major and Minor. Andromeda. And best of all, Perseus. All laid out before her in their splendid glory.

“Oh, Maxim, they’re perfect,” Emma whispered.

“You like them?” he asked in a hesitant voice.

“Yes. I love them.” She hugged them to her chest. “How did you develop them so quickly?”

“I put a rush on it.” Maxim cleared his throat. “I knew you wanted them fast.”

Aw
. Actions spoke so much louder than words
. Did this mean what she thought it meant?
He’d even remembered her favorite constellations. “How did you know which constellation was which?”

He tugged at his tie. “I just knew.”

“You’re a closet astronomer?”

“No. I looked them up, all right?” He brushed a hand through his hair. “Listen, it’s late. You should go. Give the pictures to your brother next time you see him.”

“Alright. Thank you.” A warm and fuzzy feeling blossomed in her chest. Maxim surely hadn’t had enough time to look up the constellations in that brief dash upstairs to get the camera. Which meant he must have researched them sometime after their car ride from the ER the other day. Which meant…Emma’s heart somersaulted. She turned to him, hardly daring to breathe.

He stood all silent and grim, waiting for her to enter the car.
So he wasn’t going to make it easy for her. That was okay, for now. She had the pictures for proof, didn’t she?
She got inside the car and rolled down the window.

“Thanks again, Maxim. I love the pictures.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“I know. It was very thoughtful of you.”

“Come on, Emma. They’re just pictures,” he said. “You look like you’ve won the Lotto or something.”

Maybe I have
. Emma smiled and drove off.

Chapter 22

“That’s the fourth jaundiced patient we’ve had this week.”

“I know. Same story each time.” Emma finished the OHU admitting orders and handed them to Madison. “It’s either a dirty tattoo needle or they’re shooting up.” It was three o’clock, toward the end of their shift. Sam had already left for the day.

“But none of them admitted to it.” Madison began noting the orders.

“It’s obvious from their labs. All hepatitis C, same genotype 1a.” Emma tapped her pen on the table. “All from dorm 207. You told Sergeant Peterson, right?”

“Yes. He searched the dorms but came up with nothing.”

“That’s because he didn’t have our friends with him,” a familiar voice said from the doorway.

Emma’s breath hitched. “Hello, Maxim.”

There he was, dressed in a pristine gray suit, looking as distinctive and formidable as ever. He’d left for a conference in Sacramento right after his father’s funeral last week, and Emma hadn’t seen him since. But she’d thought about him, every single day or even more often than that, if she were to be honest with herself. He blinked at her smile as he approached.

“Hi.” His silver eyes were locked on her face.

“How was your trip?”

“Good.”

“Friends?” Madison threw Emma a funny look. “What friends are you talking about?”

“What?” Maxim frowned, finally breaking his gaze.

“Searching the dorms…you said some friends may help us?” Madison prompted.

“Oh. The K-9 unit. I was able to get them back from Bakersfield. They’re right here.” He pointed to the door.

Dear God, they looked so vicious
. Emma jumped up from her chair and clutched Maxim’s arm. Two huge dogs with their tongues hanging out of their mouths prowled into the room. Her hands started shaking.

“What’s the matter?” Maxim’s eyes were lit with concern.

“The dogs…” Emma pressed against his side.
They weren’t going to bite, were they?

“They’re expertly trained.” He put an arm around her shoulder. “It’s okay. Jesus, your face is all white. Breathe, Emma.”

“Are you okay?” Madison’s anxious voice came from nearby.

“Banding!” Maxim hollered. “Get those dogs out of here. They’re scaring the doctor to death.”

A stern-looking blond sergeant rushed into the room and fastened a much-needed leash onto each dog. “Sorry about that.”

Thank God
. Emma exhaled. “What are they?” The creatures were secured now but still looked as if they might lunge at her at any second.

“One’s a Dutch Shepherd and the other a Belgian Malinois,” Maxim said. “Don’t worry. They won’t hurt you.”

“Sorry, Doc.” The sergeant tugged on their straps. “Drake and Prince look scary but they’re pretty docile.”

The larger of the beasts strained against its leash. Emma’s heart almost jumped out of her chest. Before she knew it, Maxim had shoved her behind him, shielding her from the dog’s line of attack.

“Search 207.” Maxim turned to Madison. “That’s the dorm I heard you talking about, right?”

“Yes.”

“Look for needles, drugs, even tattoo equipment.”

“All right, sir.” The sergeant finally departed with the dogs.

“It’s okay. They’re gone.” Maxim gently touched her arm.

“Sorry.”
She was such a coward.

“Sorry for what?”

“Adults aren’t usually terrified of dogs.” Emma forced out a wan smile.

“Sit.” He pulled up a chair, blunt and abrupt as usual. “You don’t look very good.”

“Bad experience with a dog?” Madison handed Emma a cup of water as she sat down.

“Yeah. A pit bull bit me when I was a kid.” Emma gulped down the water, savoring the way the cool liquid slid down her throat.

“No wonder you’re scared,” Maxim said, his voice soft. “I’ll tell Banding not to bring the dogs near you next time.”

“Thanks.” She put down her cup.
Time to pull it together.
No point dwelling on her phobia when there was so much more at stake. “So you heard about 207 and the hep C outbreak?”

“Yes.” Maxim refilled her cup and handed it back to her. “I’m going to have the K-9 units do more random searches. At least several a week. Sacramento approved five more units during our conference.”

“That’s good, I guess.”
She’d somehow have to get used to those dogs.
“What about encouraging the inmates to talk to ID the source?”

“Doc, they’re scared. They’re not going to say anything,” Madison said.

“If I promise them extra protection, they might talk,” Maxim announced. “I could send them to SNY.”

“That’s a great idea.”
He was being quite understanding. And he’d rushed to defend her against the dog. How awesome was that
? “The inmates up there won’t hurt them for snitching, right?”

“They shouldn’t.” Maxim’s eyes were back on her face.

“I’ll head down to the OHU to talk with Mr. Rodriguez now.” Emma’s face felt like a furnace.
God, those silver eyes were going to kill her.
Why was Maxim studying her so intently? It was as if he was trying to memorize her every feature
.
She cleared her throat and tried to focus on the problem at hand.
“Mr. Rodriguez is the first inmate who turned yellow. He can tell us if he used a needle or did a tattoo.”

“Or he may clam up.” Madison shook her head. “If he admits to anything, time will be added to his sentence, you know.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes. Drugs are illegal and so are tattoos,” Madison said. “They have to get their punishment somehow.”

“How about in exchange for info, I grant them immunity?” Maxim raised his eyebrows. “No prosecution if they spill the truth.”

“You’d do that?” Emma’s jaw almost dropped.

“Yes. It’s worth it to stop more patients from getting hep C.” Maxim frowned at her open astonishment. “What? This is a public health emergency. Got to deal with it somehow.”

Emma turned away, a lightness seeping into her soul. First, the constellation pictures and now, the help with the hep C patients.
How could her heart help but melt a little bit more?
“Great. I’ll tell Mr. Rodriguez right now.”

“I’ll go with you.” Maxim ushered her out, putting his hand near the small of her back, its heat seeping through her white coat. She bit her lip, knowing she was in serious trouble. He wasn’t even touching her and her body was already humming with excitement.

“Code 1 just came in over the radio,” Madison suddenly called from behind them. “Looks serious. The dogs found some cocaine. An inmate swallowed a condom of it.”

Emma rushed back into the clinic. “Is he stable?”

“For now. They’re bringing him in a minute.”

“Damn. I’ll go check what’s happening.” Maxim cast her a worried look. “You’ll be okay here?”

“Of course. Go. I’ll be fine.” Emma waved him off, touched by his concern but a little glad to get some distance between them. It was hard to concentrate with him so close. She turned back to the nurse. “Get the crash cart ready. He could go down fast if the condom bursts.”

Madison hurried to check the cart while Emma gowned up, anticipating the worst. Cocaine was bad news if there was a massive influx to the body. Who knew how many grams were in that condom? Once, at the county ER, she saw a man die of a massive heart attack within minutes of ingesting the drug.

“They’re here.” Madison dashed toward the entranceway.

Ms. Carter and two officers pushed in a gurney with a huge inmate hunkering on top. Sergeant Peterson huffed his way behind them.

“He won’t say a thing.” The sergeant wiped a hand over his damp forehead. “But I saw him swallowing that balloon. Come on, Henderson, fess up.”

“Didn’t do nothin’.” The man was enormous, over six feet tall and at least three hundred pounds. He had oily black hair and the usual tattoos littered all over his arms and face. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead.

“Can we get some vitals?” Emma gulped down her unease.
Please let him stay stable.
Nothing worse than trying to resuscitate a morbidly obese patient. The airway was going to be a killer as the man had no neck.

“We couldn’t in the field. Blood pressure cuff not big enough.” Ms. Carter clucked her tongue and shook her head.

“I have a bigger one here.” Madison wrapped the cuff around the man’s arm while Ms. Carter hooked him up on the monitor.

“Blood pressure one eighty over one hundred, heart rate one twenty.”

“Damn. Call 911.” Emma’s heart rate spiked a notch. “He definitely took something.”

“Didn’t take nothin’,” Henderson grunted. His pupils were huge and sweat started to pour off his face.

Definitely sympathomimetic ingestion.
“Your vital signs are sky high. Was it cocaine? Meth? We need to put in an IV.”

“No IV,” the man bit out. “Get the hell away from me.”

“Heart rate one forty, Doc,” Madison said.

“Get the crash cart ready.” Emma’s gut clenched.
Had the condom burst already?
“Do you have any chest pain? Trouble breathing?”

“No.” Henderson began picking at his skin, his eyes bouncing back and forth.

“Pull up some Ativan,” Emma ordered Madison. Thank goodness the nurse seemed as calm as a cucumber. “Five milligrams. Get ready to push it IM since we don’t have a line. You called 911, right?”

“Yes. They’re on their way,” Sergeant Peterson said.

“Mr. Henderson, we need that IV. It’ll be quick.” Emma gingerly approached the man, who was now yanking at his hair. “We’ll give you medicine to make you feel better.”

“No.” He suddenly bent over and clutched his chest.

“See? Your chest hurts.” Emma swallowed down her rising panic. He was going to crash. She could feel it in her bones. “You need help.”

She fumbled with the gurney’s railing.
Damn. Where was that latch?
Finally it clicked. She swung the railing down and beckoned Madison to bring over the IV equipment. Henderson let out a groan and swiped at his arms and legs. “Get them away from me. They’re crawling all over me!”

“Visual and tactile hallucinations. He probably took crack, right Doc?” Madison asked.

“Sure you want to do this, Doc?” Peterson nervously said from her left. “The paramedics are on their way.”

“They won’t be here soon enough. We need to stabilize him now.”
Before they lost the airway
. “It’s okay, Mr. Henderson. Madison will place the IV and give you the Ativan. You’ll feel a lot better. You won’t see those things anymore.”

“He may have taken PCP, too.” Maxim’s voice. He must have just returned from the dorms.

Emma swung around, her anxiety picking up a notch. “PCP?”

“Yes. His bunkie told us he was mixing the crack with PCP. We found both in his locker.”

“Jesus. PCP can make them really violent.” Emma scanned the room. “We need more officers in here. Now. As many as you can get. Ms. Carter, pull out ten milligrams of Haldol.”

“Get away from me!” The inmate screeched as Madison approached with the IV.

Henderson looked like an enraged bull, his eyes bouncing up and down as well as sideways. Suddenly, he heaved out of the gurney.
All three hundred plus pounds of him.
And he was hurling straight at her. Emma turned and found herself wedged between the gurney and the wall. She screamed.
This was it. Her last moment. Crushed to bits against a wall.
Someone seized her arm and flung her out of the way.

“Maxim!” Emma screeched.

But it was too late.

Maxim’s head made a sickening thud against the sink as Henderson’s enormous body slammed into him. Both men crashed to the ground. A group of officers jumped on top of Henderson and finally managed to pull the man off. But Maxim remained motionless on the floor, his eyes closed.

“Oh, God!” Emma ran to his side.
Please. Please don’t let him be dead
. “Maxim, are you okay? Wake up!”

It took ten officers to restrain an infuriated Henderson back on the gurney before Madison could slip in an IV. At least she thought it was ten. It could have been twenty for all Emma knew. She was too distracted with Maxim to notice. There was a nasty gash on his posterior scalp where his head had smashed against the sink. Emma applied pressure, her hand shaking as she scanned the rest of his body for further injuries.

Thank God the paramedics arrived at that moment to push some Ativan and Haldol into Henderson. The man stopped howling and calmed down enough to be wheeled off to the hospital.

“Is he okay, Doc?” Peterson asked, his eyes wide with concern as he squatted beside Emma on the floor.

Madison was trying to take Maxim’s blood pressure. So far he’d only moaned incoherently, not fully waking.
Dear God, should they call 911 again?
Emma’s stomach felt like it was on fire and her left hand couldn’t stop shaking.
Don’t die on me, Maxim. Don’t die on me, please.