missed it under those circumstances.”
“Yeah, but I’d’ve at least checked her breathing. Couldn’t you tell by Quinn’s expression that he hadn’t?” She lowered her voice at last to a hoarse whisper. “I’m going to talk to Sandra later. That girl’s scared of her own shadow, but maybe I can bully her into telling the truth. Quinn’s incompetent. It’s probably because he works too many hours, but that doesn’t excuse his disregard for human life. They need to get rid of him.”
“And who would they find to replace him?” Lukas asked dryly.
She grimaced. “Good question. The hospital doesn’t want to pay anything. That’s why we’ve got a bunch of losers here already.”
“And where does that put you and me?”
She didn’t even blink. “You’re here to keep busy until the E.R. is rebuilt in Knolls.”
“And why are you here?” Lukas asked. “You’re no loser. I’ve seen you work. You know your stuff. I couldn’t help picking up on Quinn’s reference. Are you a resident?” He studied her more closely and saw the sudden tightening of her lips, the hooding of her eyes.
She looked away. “I’m a paramedic right now, Dr. Bower. I’m here because this is home…or it was.” She sighed. “The guy you’re replacing? Dr. Moss? He thought he was coming here for a break from family practice. Ha! Now he’s on suspension here and his license is in question, and it’s not even his fault. You’d better look over you shoulder around here. No telling who’ll try to stab you in the back.” She glared in Quinn’s direction and walked off to use the phone at the nurses’ desk.
Carmen swiveled in her chair to face Lukas. “Dr. Bower, a friend of mine from the police department just called. They didn’t find any baby, but they called the landlord of the building where the woman was living. He’d gotten complaints from the neighbors for the past two or three days about a baby crying.”
“Did he say how many people lived in that apartment with her?”
“Just the woman. Last time he saw her she was pregnant, and that was last week, when he dropped by to try to get rent payment from her, which he didn’t get. Looks like she was broke, and the room was a mess, like she’d been sick for a while. The baby was obviously a newborn.”
“Did they give you a name?”
“Said the woman was Marla Moore. She stayed inside a lot. I guess the landlord’ll have to come down and make identification or something. The police haven’t found any relatives yet.”
“But the baby,” Lukas said, “what about the baby?”
Carmen shrugged. “If it’s a newborn, it couldn’t’ve crawled off. Somebody’s got to be taking care of that baby.” The telephone buzzed again, and she turned back to the desk.
“Hey, Dr. Bower?” came a quiet male voice from behind him.
Lukas turned to find Quinn standing there, head bowed, arms folded across his chest. “I shouldn’t have given you such a hard time in there. I guess I was pretty nervous.”
“You don’t walk out on a code, Quinn. We needed you. Where did you go?”
“I…I’m sorry. I nearly lost my cool for a little bit. I mean, we were fighting for a young mother’s life, and Tex made it sound like I’d really blown it.” He shot a quick glance toward Carmen and Tex, who were both on the telephone at their desks. “What are you going to put on your report?”
“What do you mean?”
Quinn shrugged. “I need this job bad, and I can’t afford to lose it. What are you going to say about me?”
Lukas felt the fresh weight of grief sharpen his tongue. “The truth usually works.” He turned away and left Quinn standing there.
He went into the call room for a moment. He had reports to fill out, work to do, but he knew from experience that if there were no other patients who needed him, it was best to spend some quiet time after a painful event like this one. If there was any time he needed prayer more…
And then he realized something. During that whole code, in all the confusion and angry words and difficult decisions, he’d forgotten the most important thing. A habit that he’d developed in his first E.R. rotations years ago was to pray on the run while treating victims of severe illness or trauma. Praying had become second nature for him; he did it without thinking. But this time…this time he’d been caught off guard. He’d allowed his anger at Quinn to divert him from the most important treatment.
“Forgive me, Lord.” He covered his face with his hands. He knew God didn’t need his permission to save a life or to guide the hands and minds of the staff when they were working with patients. Still, he had no doubt that prayer was an energizing touch, a powerful connection between God and the caregivers. Yes, prayer operated on a spiritual level, but weren’t human beings as much spirit as body?
And what if Marla Moore did have a baby? Was there a husband? She was so young….
Just three months ago Lukas had lost a drowning victim, a young woman like this one. Some fishermen had found her at the shore of the lake and had contacted him by car phone as they raced with her from the lake to the hospital. They’d been devastated when they couldn’t save her. So had Lukas. The loss always hurt the worst with the young ones, as if fresh new canvas had been ripped from the center of a painting in progress. With Marla it looked as if an even newer life was involved.
“Lord, please take care of Marla’s baby. When they find her family, touch them with Your healing power and give that baby an earthly mother. And help me not to push You to the side next time.”
He paused and took a new breath. He had to return to work, but he might not have a chance to get back here soon, and he needed to eat something to keep his strength up and his mind sharp—he hadn’t eaten for eight hours, and he’d barely slept.
Quickly he pulled open the top side drawer of the desk and reached in for the peanut butter sandwich he’d packed yesterday before coming to work. He unwrapped the aluminum foil and pulled it back, then recoiled with disgust. Someone had taken several bites out of his sandwich—he could see the teeth marks clearly. In place of those bites was a dead fly.
He smashed the foil back together over the sandwich and threw the whole thing into the trash can.
He was beginning to hate this place.
A soft call reached Mercy through the darkness, indecipherable through the haze of the drug she had used so she would be sure to get some rest before returning to the hospital. But in spite of the drug, her eyes flew open. She listened. Had her mysterious visitor at the clinic followed her home?
“Mom?” Her bedroom door slid open, and a glow came through from the hallway night-light to reveal the dark outline of Tedi’s sleep-mussed hair. “Can I sleep with you?”
Automatically Mercy scooted over and pulled the covers back. Tedi came forward quickly and climbed into the nest of warmth Mercy’s body had generated. She placed her icy feet on Mercy’s legs, then giggled when her mom gasped.
“Nightmares?” Mercy asked, grimacing at her daughter’s late-night-snack breath. She should have let Tedi say at Mom’s for the rest of
