administrators, want with her? She’d rarely had occasion to even speak to the man, but when she did, it was in his office on the sixth floor, not on the intensive-care ward.
“Is it about one of my patients?”
He tugged lightly at the clipboard, and she released it. “He didn’t say. Just asked if I could spare you for a few minutes, but you’re using that time up pretty rapidly.”
Given the number of times she’d rejected Pearson’s invitations to go out together, she wasn’t overly concerned with his brusqueness. He wasn’t a man to accept rejection gracefully, but he was professional enough not to let it affect their working together. He was right about one thing—the only way to get her questions answered was to head to I.C.U.
“What do we have here?” Pearson asked.
A small smile tugged at her lips as she made to leave. A much bigger person wouldn’t take a modicum of enjoyment from handing this particular case over to the man who had made such a pest of himself for several months before he’d finally given up on her.
But sometimes being small and petty could be so satisfying.
“Patient presented with severe pain due to an obstruction,” she said blandly.
Tim’s gaze shot up from the clipboard, took in the male patient positioned on his stomach, his hips propped up by several pillows. Next his eyes took in the utensils Shae had gathered, lingered on the set of forceps. His head swiveled to hers, the expression in his handsome face dismayed. “It probably wouldn’t hurt if you were a little late upstairs. Just tell them you couldn’t get free.”
She was already moving away from the cubicle. “I don’t think so. It doesn’t pay to keep Martin waiting.”
The small sense of pleasure she derived at the thought of Pearson’s distaste for the task ahead of him had dissipated by the time the elevator doors slid open on the I.C.U. floor. It vanished completely when she stepped into room six and observed its four occupants. Reeves was there, his plastic public-relations smile firmly affixed to his plump face. With his solemn presence and unfailingly smooth tones, he’d always reminded her more of an undertaker than an administrator. A uniformed policeman stood next to the room’s bed. But it was the patient in the bed that drew her attention. Jon LeFrenz.
With a thread of apprehension she swung her gaze to the man lounging in the corner. Cade Tremaine. He was again dressed in jeans, wearing a black T-shirt and black running shoes. Today he wore a shoulder holster, along with his shield. He didn’t look any more rested than he had three days ago.
Annoyed that she’d made unconscious note of the fact, she stopped in the doorway, addressed Reeves. “You wanted to see me?”
“Dr. O’Riley, Detective Tremaine has asked for our cooperation while he speaks to Mr. LeFrenz. I assured him the hospital would extend him every courtesy.”
It would have been difficult to miss the warning in the man’s civil tones. Ignoring it, she asked, “Just exactly what courtesy is the detective requesting?”
“Me, Angel Eyes. I’m the one with the request.” LeFrenz reached over to press the button that would raise the head of his bed. His other wrist was handcuffed to the railing. “I got no reason to trust Tremaine, but I said if you was in the room, maybe I’d answer a few questions for him.” He grinned. Without the oxygen mask and pain twisting his features, it was apparent he was several years older than she’d originally thought. And equally apparent that he was taking great delight in drawing her into the drama between him and the NOPD.
She looked at Reeves. “I’m on duty. I don’t have time to baby-sit.”
The administrator’s smile chilled but didn’t disappear. “You can make time.” Looking at Tremaine, he said cordially, “Dr. O’Riley is at your disposal, Detective. Please don’t keep her too long. The E.R. is slow right now, but that has a way of changing suddenly.”
“I appreciate it. If they page her, I’ll send her right down.”
Nodding, the other man strode from the room.
There was nothing quite so annoying as feeling like a pawn in a situation of someone else’s making. Shae made no attempt to keep the irritation from her voice as she asked Tremaine, “Just what is it exactly that I’m here for?”
The detective shoved away from the wall he’d been leaning against, crossed to her side and cupped her elbow. “We can talk outside.”
“Hey, where you taking her? Tremaine? Tremaine!” LeFrenz bellowed as Cade inexorably guided her resisting form to the hallway. “She’s here because I said so. Bring her back. Now, Tremaine!”
Before they’d taken a dozen steps outside the room, Shae yanked her elbow out of the man’s grasp and turned to face him. “Care to tell me what this is all about? I have patients downstairs to tend to.”
The detective just gazed at her, his dark-green gaze inscrutable. “You have a patient up here, too.”
“LeFrenz isn’t my patient anymore. He’s Dr. Lyndstrom’s.” Something about the steady intensity of his regard made her uneasy. Since no man made her nervous, not ever, she decided the reaction had to do with his occupation. Dealing with cops had always raised her stress level.
“I’ve been in to question him every day since he got out of surgery and he hasn’t given me jack. The only thing he has said, more than once, is that he wants to see you.” He gave her a mocking smile. “Apparently you made quite an impression on him, Angel Eyes.”
She gave an impatient shrug. “And this concerns me how?”
“Jonny hasn’t been exactly cooperative up to this point. But he promised that your presence would change that. I thought it was worth a shot to see if he would be any more talkative with you in the room.”
Giving an incredulous laugh, she said, “You mean, I’m a bribe? Drop dead, Tremaine.” Turning, she walked toward the elevator.
He stepped into her path and she stopped, rather than risking running into him. “I wondered if there was a temper to match that red hair.” His mouth quirked. “Now I know.” As quickly as the humor flashed into his face, it was gone again. “Are you telling me you can’t spare fifteen minutes to help the NOPD?”
She raised a brow. “Appealing to my sense of civic duty? Maybe that would have worked if you’d approached me first, instead of running to Reeves.” Even as she said the words, she tasted the lie in them.
Cade shoved his fingertips into the front pockets of his jeans. “Reeves? Oh, you mean the suit. I figured you might need permission to leave the floor for a while. Yeah, okay, so I’m using you. I admit it. But I got a kid dead because of the sh—drugs that LeFrenz sold him. We’re not so different, you and me. We both try to keep people alive.”
Bitterness twisted through her at his words. Professionally, at least, his words were true enough. But personally… Tremaine would be shocked to discover just how far apart they were.
He moved closer to her, his head tilted intimately toward hers, his voice now low and persuasive. “C’mon, Doc. What’s the harm?”
Startled, her gaze jerked to his. He had a smoker’s voice, slightly raspy, with more than a hint of the
