Day 7 – Thursday early morning
Hillcrest Cafeteria
“Mind if I join you?”
Jim looked up from his tray to see one of the nurses from the ER smiling at him. He gestured at the three empty seats on the other side of the table. “Help yourself.” He went back to his meal, thinking he had a number of charts left unfinished and, if he wasn’t careful, he would have to stay late to complete them.
“You’re new, I think.”
Jim looked up again, realizing that the blonde was trying to engage him in conversation. He nodded. “Sort of. I started last summer.”
“Lisa Braden.” She stuck out her hand and he shook it. “ICU, mainly, but I float to the ER. I’ve seen you there.”
She was not his type. Too brassy and too aggressive, but he was aware that, in any job, making enemies could be a bad idea. He smiled. “And we’re very grateful.”
This much was true. The dynamics of an acute care facility like Hillcrest required that nurses be able to work in more than one area. The critical care areas routinely covered for one another, but ER nurses notoriously hated both floating to ICU and taking care of ICU patients who landed in the ER. They liked the “treat ’em and street ’em” variety.
The blonde seemed to have forgotten to get herself something to eat. She was toying with a soda, her arms crossed on the table, her just-barely-covered breasts resting on her arms.
“You’re really good,” she said. “I’ve been around a lot of ER docs and you’re the best I’ve seen.” She smiled at him.
Jim smiled back. “Thank you.” It had been a while since he’d had anyone throw themselves at him and he was finding it amusing.
“We heard what happened, about the virus. I’m glad you’re all right.”
Jim sighed inwardly and changed the subject. “I haven’t had much chance to get to know Dallas. What is there to do around here?”
“Oh! Well, there’s Billy Bob’s, of course, and the stockyards, and Southfork, and the State Fair, and gobs of nightclubs and good places to eat. What do you like to do?”
“Billy Bob’s, is that where they have the mechanical bull?”
She grinned. “Yeah, and Country and Western dancing. Can you Two-Step?”
Jim shook his head. “No, sorry.”
“Other kinds of dancing, maybe?” She looked at him coyly.
Jim studied her face for a moment. He did not want to encourage this woman. “Scottish Country Dancing,” he said. That should put her off.
Lisa blinked. “Scottish what?”
“Do you know Ginny Forbes?”
Lisa nodded.
“Has she ever mentioned what she does on Friday nights?”
Lisa’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, she and a hundred other Scots get together every Friday night. The dances are made up of intricate patterns that require the cooperation of everyone in the set and the footwork has its roots in French ballet. It’s quite a sight.”
Lisa looked dubious. “You do that, too?”
“I try.”
Jim saw a vertical line appear between Lisa’s eyebrows.
“Is it hard?”
Jim nodded. “Very.”
“Hmmm. Could I come watch?”
“Sure. It’s open to the public.”
She nodded, then changed the subject, holding out her hands for his inspection. “Which do you like better, the right or the left?”
Jim glanced at her nails, then looked closer, then averted his eyes, reminding himself he was a grown man and a physician.
“Sorry.” He gathered up his tray and stood up. “Got to go back to work. Nice to meet you, miss.”
“Lisa. See you later.” She was smiling at him, pleased with his reaction to the images painted in miniature on her blood red nails.
Jim hurried off, making a mental note to report her nails as a health hazard. They had certainly interfered with his appetite.
* * *
Thursday morning
Police substation
Ginny was sitting in Detective Tran’s office, copies of her notes in front of her, fidgeting. She’d been thinking about transparency and how to use it to catch a killer.
“Here are the bios—all I could remember about each of the people who were in the Unit that night. Here’s the summary of the shift and the timeline. And this is my Means / Motive / Opportunity spreadsheet, which you’ve seen before and which is essentially empty because I can’t think of a single reason why anyone who works at Hillcrest should want Phyllis dead.”
Detective Tran nodded, looking over the work. “These are very clear. Thank you.”
Ginny then handed over the second set of notes, explaining about Luis. “He says the patches were intended for his mother, but I don’t know how reliable his testimony is. Dr. Mackenzie is following up with the DEA agent. Here,” she set down the third group, “is what I’ve been able to get from John Kyle, plus my mind map. And I’m working on a way to gather more personal information about Phyllis’ relationships with her coworkers, but that’s going to take some time.”
“Uncovering the truth usually does.” Detective Tran looked up from the mind map, then set it aside and leaned back in her chair, her eyes on Ginny. “You have something else to say?”
Ginny nodded, then took a breath. “Since everyone at the hospital already knows I’m working with the police, I was wondering if you could use me to pass along selected bits of information—or misinformation. Baiting the hook, as it were, to see if we could draw someone out.”
Detective Tran studied her for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “You would be willing to let us use you in this way?”
Ginny nodded.
“Have you spoken with anyone about this idea?”
“No.”
Detective Tran thought for a moment longer, then shuffled through her folder and pulled out a file, handing it to Ginny. “This is the forensic science report from the crime scene. It reveals nothing of use and, if the killer learns that, he may let down his guard.”
Ginny nodded and rose from her chair. “I’ll get started on this right away.”
“Miss Forbes.”
“Yes?”
“Discretion is called for. We want to lull our quarry into a false sense of security, not frighten him into precipitate action.”
Ginny nodded. “I understand.” She did, too. Cornered prey tended to attack.
* * *
Thursday morning
Forbes residence
“I’ll get it.” Ginny made her way to the front of the house and opened the door to Jim. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“I heard a rumor you were being sent to Austin. May I come in?”
“Of course.” She showed him into the living room and watched him sink onto the sofa. The morning sun pricked out the shadows under his eyes. “Hard night?”
He started to laugh. “You wouldn’t believe what happened. One of your colleagues has decided she likes me.” He described the scene in the cafeteria.
Ginny started laughing. “Her fingernails?”
“Yes. I’m going to have to keep an eye on her!”
“Should I be worried?”
“No,” he said, still grinning. “Anyway, that’s not why I came. Grandfather called me and said you’d be missing the ceilidh this week.”
“Where does he get his information?” Ginny shook her head.
“In this case, from me.” Her mother appeared in the door. “I told him about you being sent to Austin for the conference. Morning, Jim.” She set a tray down on the table in front of them. “I thought you might like some coffee.” She smiled, then retired, leaving them alone.
“I want to go with you.”
“Why?”
He frowned. “I’m not sure. I just have a bad feeling about this.”
Ginny shook her head at him. “I’ll be in the conference the entire time.”
“We could eat together.”
“Not breakfast and not lunch and not some of the dinners. It’s all included in the package.”
He sighed, then leaned toward her. “The truth is I don’t like the thought of you going off on your own while this business about Luis and the drugs is unresolved.”
“The timing is a little awkward, I agree, but I turned everything over to Detective Tran this morning. Call her if anything comes up.”
He reached out and took her hands in his. “Will you call me?”
Ginny felt a twinge of annoyance. “Jim, this is work. Just like a regular shift. I don’t call you to check in during those.”
He looked at her seriously. “I just want to hear your voice. To reassure me you’re all right.”
“I won’t have time to get into trouble. I drive down, check in, report for classes all day on Friday and Saturday and half of Sunday, then I drive home. If it will make you feel better, I’ll touch base with you once a day. I’ll be doing the same with Mother, so you can check in with her if we miss one another.”
He nodded. “I can live with that. But—” He pulled her out of her chair and onto his lap, then wrapped both arms around her. “Before you go, I want to remind you what you’re leaving behind.” He bent to kiss her.
Ginny felt her eyes close and her blood pressure rise, and lost track of time for a moment, but they were in her living room, with her mother in the kitchen. When she came up for air, she broke out of his embrace and pulled him to his feet.
“Get some sleep. I’ll call you tonight.” She pushed him toward the door.
“All right. I’ll go, but I hold you to your promise.” He turned on the threshold, kissed her again, then strode down the sidewalk, got in his car, and drove off.
Ginny closed the door, turning to find her mother smiling at her.
“Tuna for lunch all right with you?”
“Yes, please.” Ginny could feel the heat rise in her cheeks, but her mother was already headed for the kitchen and didn’t see. She put the subject of Jim’s intentions aside and concentrated on her trip. There were still some things she needed to do. She hurried upstairs to finish packing.
* * *