By the time Eve and Daniel made it to the hospital, Pauline had been taken to a room in the Intensive Care Unit. There had been no need for surgery, just blood transfusions, X-rays, IV fluids, fifty stitches on the top of her head, and close observation. No bones were broken; her skull had not been fractured, but there had been a large gash, bruising, and a substantial concussion. She was heavily sedated, and they were told by the attending doctor that she was not to be roused for conversation. She needed this time to rest and to make sure there had not been any brain damage. She was in and out of consciousness anyway and hardly able to answer questions, but the doctor made it clear she was not to be disturbed. Once he found out Eve was a nun and a friend, however, he allowed her to stay at Pauline’s bedside.
Since he knew the man had been picked up by the police, Daniel planned to go to the jail and interview Steve, find out what he could as to whether or not he was in fact the perpetrator. He told Eve he would use his best interview skills and was confident that he would be able to tell if Steve had been the one who had done this to Pauline and even find out why. He also planned to find out if he had any knowledge about the guy they had seen earlier on the motorcycle.
He agreed that later he would return to the apartments and have a lengthier conversation with the manager, Stanley Whitehorse, just to see if he had any more information about when and why Dorisanne and Robbie had left. They both thought that he seemed to know something about their departure, and Daniel thought it might be beneficial to try to talk to him a little longer and without the presence of the Las Vegas police.
As Eve sat praying next to Pauline’s bed, her thoughts turned to the time she had spent in the hospital with the Captain after his amputation surgery and during his recovery, which had led to her decision to take a leave from the convent and care for him. She thought about those days at St. Vincent’s, the ongoing conversations with nurses and therapists, the conferences with the medical staff about her father’s prognosis. She recalled Dorisanne’s phone calls and her decision to stay away, how her sister confessed she hated hospitals, hated the sounds and the smells, had all she could take of that during their mother’s illness and would not return to New Mexico while her father remained a hospital patient.
She sat, listening to the quiet hum of the IV machines, the low talk from people in the hallway, and remembered all the family members she’d met in the waiting rooms, the friendship that was forged between herself and Megan Flint, the Captain’s client and a Hollywood star. Eve thought about all the extra time she had while caring for her father in the hospital, time to think, to reflect, to consider her vocation and her decision to live in community as a Benedictine nun. It had been a very important and introspective time in her life, and she wondered if she would have taken all of that time for reflection had she not had so many hours in the hospital to wait and think. She had not enjoyed the required care-giving for the Captain; he had been a difficult patient, but it had certainly given her the space to reflect upon her life and her call.
“And here I am again,” she said softly, “sitting at a bedside in a hospital room, still not any further along in my process than I was then.” She reached out and took Pauline’s limp hand in her own. “Only this time I’m with a cocktail waitress from Vegas instead of Captain Jackson.”
She squeezed Pauline’s hand. “And still, just like before, Dorisanne is nowhere to be found.”
Eve tucked the patient’s hand under the sheet, patted it, and sat back in her chair. When she did, she felt the small book she had found earlier at her sister’s apartment, the one she had stuck into her pants pocket. She reached around and pulled it out and began flipping through the pages. She pulled out the photos, flipped through them as well, stopped at one and ran her finger across Dorisanne’s face, smiling at her goofy grin. She placed it back between the pages in the book.
She looked at the cover of the book and then opened it up again. It was a small address book, apparently an old one, as she could see that there were dark lines drawn through most of the names and numbers. She figured Dorisanne was transcribing them to another book or to her cell phone, and she wondered how far along she had gotten. She found her parents’ home address and various phone numbers from over the years, all with a line crossed through them, along with Daniel’s number and contact information for a few friends Dorisanne and Eve shared in Madrid. There were casinos and managers’ names sprinkled throughout the book and names that Eve didn’t recognize. Some were not crossed out.
She found Pauline’s and Steve’s names, both listed under P, and there were two numbers written there. Eve assumed they were cell numbers, and she wondered if one of them was Steve’s or if they were both Pauline’s, and she wondered what her sister knew about the domestic violence that apparently went on next door to her. She had not asked Pauline how long they had been neighbors and how much of their lives they actually shared.
She looked at the young woman in the bed, her face swollen and bruised, and wondered if Dorisanne had given up her hospital phobia to sit with Pauline on any previous occasions, if she had been a friend to Pauline during times like this one. She glanced down at the book, at the written name, a star next to the number, a thin line drawn through it, and immediately understood that she had. She knew that loyalty was one of her sister’s best qualities, and if a friend was in need, no matter how uncomfortable it made her, she was always there. Dorisanne had been that way from the time she was very young. The other girls in Madrid used to say if you were friends with Dorisanne, you were friends for life. And with all the names in the address book, names and numbers from years and years of her life, it certainly seemed like that was still so.
She closed the book, thinking that maybe later she would study it more closely, maybe even call some of the listed numbers to ask if they knew of Dorisanne’s whereabouts, but as she started to put it back in her pocket, a small piece of paper fell out of the book. Eve bent down and picked it up. It was a receipt of some kind, with a four-digit number written off to the side. Eve didn’t know for sure, but it appeared to be a credit card receipt, and she could tell it was from the Rio. She thought about her conversation with Daniel, about Dorisanne’s possible involvement with the identity theft ring, and she folded up the piece of paper and stuck it back in the little book.
“Dorisanne,” Pauline was speaking. She turned to face Eve, who was startled by the name and the sudden movement.
“Dorisanne,” she called out again, reaching for her hand.
“It’s Eve,” she said, leaning forward and sitting closer to Pauline. “It’s her sister,” she explained. “I’m Dorisanne’s sister.”
Pauline looked closer at Eve, clamping on more tightly to her hand. Suddenly an alarm began to beep from the machine next to the bed, the numbers showing that Pauline’s heart rate was increasing and her blood pressure was rising.
“What is it?” Eve asked. “What’s wrong, Pauline?”
The patient closed her eyes, began to breathe harder, and said something that Eve couldn’t make out.
“What?” Eve asked, leaning in closer.
Pauline became restless, began yanking at her IV lines, squirmed and fidgeted in the bed.
“Pauline, calm down!” Eve called out. And before she could get Pauline to explain what she was saying, what she meant, a nurse had rushed into the room and was pushing her out the door.
Eve stood in the hallway outside the room and watched as several members of the medical staff ran in to join the nurse at Pauline’s bedside. They quickly lowered her bed and appeared to be adding medications to her IV line. She heard one of them call for the doctor. Eve felt completely helpless; it appeared that Pauline’s condition was quickly deteriorating. She wanted to call Daniel but was too afraid to take out her cell phone and dial the number. She waited and prayed, watching through the window to the room.
After a few minutes a nurse, the first one who ran in, came out.
“Is she okay?” Eve asked.
The nurse nodded. “Her pressure shot up and she’s still very agitated.” She seemed to be looking for someone. She pulled out her phone to read the screen. “And she’s calling for Dorisanne.” She looked at Eve. “Is that you?”
Eve shook her head. “That’s my sister. She thought I was my sister.”
The nurse appeared to study her. “Is your sister okay?”
“I don’t know,” Eve confessed. “Why? Did Pauline say something? Did she say something about Dorisanne?”
The nurse looked up and Eve followed her glance and noticed the doctor coming in their direction. She turned her focus back to the nurse standing in front of her.
“What?” Eve asked as the doctor dashed past them into the room.
“Nurse, get in here!” the doctor shouted, and the nurse quickly turned to head back to Pauline’s side. “She said he knows it’s you,” she called out. “He knows.” And she hurried into the room, shutting the door behind her.