40 Souls to Keep - 4. Chapter 4

Only six other cars were in the lot, two of them minivans. Lucas couldn’t make out the colors in the dark, but he hoped one belonged to Melissa. He parked and collected Macy from the backseat. She curled into his arms, sleepy and lethargic, and he tucked the blanket around her as he made for the glass doors. They swished open and he stepped up to the admitting desk.

Matching the nurse’s 200-watt smile with one of his own wasn’t easy, but he managed. More flies with honey and all that.

“Oh,” the nurse said, spying Macy. She stood to peek through over the counter, giving Lucas a good look down her blouse. He’d never seen this nurse before, but somehow the HR department at NSUC got away with hiring only the young and attractive. Talk about a lawsuit waiting to happen.

“What happened to her?” the nurse asked, cooing at Lucas in the same tone of voice, nearly shoving her breasts out of her bra when she reached to stroke Macy’s hair. Lucas stepped back before she made contact.

“I’m not authorized to talk about it. Who’s the attending tonight?”

Nurse Barbie looked put off by his lack of interest in her breasts. She blinked at him, a spoonful of defensiveness entering her voice. “Dr. Ford.”

Lucas resisted pumping his fist in the air. “May I please see her?”

“And you are?” she asked, tone much frostier now.

“Lucas Jacobson. With CPS,” he added. Why the hell not? It sounded official, like FBI. She asked him to wait and disappeared behind giant swinging doors.Left with little choice, Lucas hoisted Macy higher over his shoulder—she mumbled something in her sleep but didn’t wake—and took a seat in one of the posh chairs lining the waiting room. On the far wall, a 52-inch flat screen flickered silently, showing the latest news on the stock market. Below it sat a gourmet coffee bar, single serving packets lining the wall. Swiss mocha. Hazelnut. Crème de menthe. And, oh God, French roast.

Lucas began to salivate.

Whistling softly, he meandered over, pretending to scan the offerings while he eyed the French roast packs. He was grabbing a handful when a voice asked, “Lucas?”

Caught red-handed. That woman had the devil’s timing. Lucas stuffed the coffee in his pocket and turned to face Melissa. She stared at him, then at the bulge in his jeans.

“Don’t make a crack about being happy to see you,” Lucas pleaded. “I’ve had my fill of bad innuendo tonight.”

“I would never,” Melissa said. “You’re not my type. And I have it on good authority that I’m not yours.”

“You didn’t read it on a bathroom wall, did you? Cause you should never believe that stuff. A few years ago, I saw one that said, ‘Call this number. Retire early. Invest in real estate.’ And we both know how that turned out.”

Melissa arched one delicate brow. “Did you call the number?”

“What?” Lucas examined the fingernails on his free hand. “You know what I make. I don’t have that kind of capital.”

Melissa snorted. She jerked her head toward the double doors, and Lucas followed her through. Barely five feet tall, she still managed to pull ahead of him with a quick, efficient stride. At some point during the evening, she’d stuck a pencil through the bun at the back of her head, and she reached for it now as they approached a curtained alcove.

“What have you got for me tonight, Lucas?” Melissa looked over her shoulder as they entered, caught a glance at something behind him, and her eyes narrowed.

The clop of police-issue boots sounded on the linoleum behind him. Reinforcements, compliments of Boss Hogg. Lucas jerked a finger behind him, not even bothering to look. “Some guy with a dolphin shirt said Macy needed police protection.”

Melissa, adept at Lucas-speak, greeted the police officer with a nod. “For how long?”

“Until we feel she isn’t in any danger,” Martinez’s voice said. Now that was enough to get Lucas to turn around. He wasn’t about to sabotage a budding friendship with Martinez, but seriously? Was Swift on drugs? The woman was about four feet tall and, while the uniform made her look bulky, one look at her slim neck and wrists gave the truth away. She’d be lucky to weigh in at a hundred pounds. Not exactly intimidating.

But, apparently, a mind reader. “I’m more than qualified,” she told Lucas, voice even. “No one will get near her.”

“Okay,” Lucas said. She had the gun, after all.

“Would you mind waiting in the hall?” Melissa asked as she donned a pair of gloves, and Martinez slipped out, taking up a position outside the partition. “You too, Lucas,” she added.

He was expecting the request, but he didn’t like it. Neither did Macy, who had awoken during the conversation. When he tried to place her on the table and sidle away, her eyes bulged, and as her body hit the white sheet, she launched herself up and back into Lucas’s arms. “No!”

“Hmm.” Patient as a saint, Melissa pressed the call button, and Nurse Barbie appeared. No, not Barbie, but too close for comfort. Her hair was coiffed in the same neat twist, and she had a white smile and pert breasts. Not that Lucas would normally notice, but he’d have to be blind not to, the way they strained the buttons on her blouse. Melissa smirked at his expression of horror.

“I know,” she said. “They’ve taken to calling us Stepford Hospital.”

“Isn’t that the silliest thing you’ve ever heard?” the nurse asked.

“Absurd,” Lucas agreed, patting Macy’s back as she keened into his shoulder.

“Don’t leave me, Lucas,” she begged.

Lucas waved Melissa off when she took a step forward. “Macy,” he said, sliding behind the curtain, away from the two women. A few feet away, Martinez looked on but kept her distance. “Dr. Ford just wants to examine you, sweetheart, to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself tonight. I know you don’t want to, but it’s my responsibility to keep you safe, and this is one of the ways I do that, okay?” Macy relaxed into his rhythmic rocking. “I’m not going to leave you. Promise.”

“Okay.” She sniffed after a few rebellious seconds.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Melissa was waiting by the bed. Wisely, she didn’t comment when Lucas set Macy down and the girl didn’t complain. Melissa directed her words at Macy, instead of Lucas, giving her some control over the situation. And the truth was, Melissa was wonderful with kids. It was why he was willing to wade through the red tape when he brought them here.

“Macy,” Melissa said. “Any time I do something that hurts you, or scares you, or makes you uncomfortable, you tell me, and I’ll stop.” She held her hand out. “Deal?”

Macy twisted a lock of hair in her fingers. She didn’t take Melissa’s hand, but she nodded.

“Good.” Melissa gave Lucas a brisk nod, preparing him for her next words. He knew they wouldn’t sit well with Macy. “I’m going to ask Lucas to step behind the curtain for a few minutes, sweetheart.”

Macy shook her head frantically, and Lucas reached to take her hand. “I’ll be right here. Just behind the curtain. You’ll be able to see my shoes the whole time. Dr. Ford needs some privacy to examine you, sweetheart. It’s okay, because she’s a doctor. But it’s not okay for me to watch. Do you understand?”

He didn’t want to go any further. Some kids picked up on what he wasn’t saying right away. Those were the ones who really broke his heart.

“I guess,” Macy said, biting her lip.

Lucas sidestepped behind the curtain before she changed her mind. Around the corner to his left, he could just make out the tip of Martinez’s elbow as she stood watch near the hall. The ER was silent, but then it always was. Lucas often wondered how they afforded to keep it open. Probably all the rich snowbirds who gave themselves heatstroke in their hot tubs.

A few feet away, Melissa began a series of questions. “Is anything hurting you right now, Macy?”

“No.”

“Did you fall down tonight? Hit your head?”

“No.”

Lucas chewed his lip as he listened, then gave up and reached into his pocket for a piece of bubble gum.

“Did anybody hit you? Or touch you?”

A long pause. Lucas’s stomach rolled. The gum went sour in his mouth.

“Macy?” Melissa prompted.

Jesus. Lucas chewed frantically.

The first time he’d ever brought a child to Melissa, it had been a sex abuse case. He’d sat in a plastic folding chair outside a curtain very similar to this one while the girl on the other side talked about how Daddy said she was a beautiful princess. She cried at the end, but only because he’d been arrested. Lucas had barely made it to the restroom down the hall before he threw up. When he returned to help fill out the police report, Melissa handed him a grape electrolyte ice pop. “It gets easier,” she said.

“I don’t want it to get any fucking easier,” he rasped.

She’d patted his hand. “Yes, you do.”

Macy’s voice pulled him from the memory. “Mommy brushed my hair.”

Lucas’s breath left him in a relieved rush. He swiped a bead of perspiration off his lip.

“It’s very pretty,” the nurse said, and Lucas silently agreed. Not that you could tell after the kid had gone crawling through the swamp.

“Well, that’s fine,” Melissa soothed. “Does she brush your hair a lot?”

“She used to.”

“But not anymore?”

“She’s been too sad.”

“Really?” An edge of concern entered Melissa’s voice. “Okay, honey. I’m going to take your temperature, and...have you seen one of these things before?”

The sheets rustled—Macy shifting on the bed. “It squeezes your arm.”

“That’s right.”

Lucas listened with half an ear while the nurse checked Macy’s vitals. So far, so good, as far as physical injuries went. And Macy’s catatonia had disappeared, though she remained withdrawn, only speaking to answer Melissa’s questions.

Around the corner, Martinez pushed away from the curtain and stepped into view, staring down the hall at something. Her hand went to her billy club.

Oh hell no.

She cut her eyes to Lucas. “I’ll be right back,” she said woodenly, then moved away before he could form a coherent reply. Frozen, on the edge of panic, he watched her stride across the corridor and out of sight.

He might as well have scored the starring role in the latest horror flick. The empty hospital, the traumatized victim and her unsuspecting doctor, the curious security guard...and of course, the brave but stupid hero. “Please don’t let that be me,” he mumbled, then called her back.

“Martinez!” He stepped around the square of hanging curtains in order to watch her retreating figure. She’d covered two-thirds of the distance and was rapidly approaching the double doors at the end. “Where the hell are you going?”

For being tiny, her strides were long and sure. She ate up the rest of the hallway, arriving at the swinging doors before Lucas could cough up a plan B.

“Relax, Jacobson,” she said over her shoulder. “I saw somebody down here. I’m just going to check it out.”

That was what they all said. Then somebody got an axe in their back. Or a knife. Or whatever the psycho had on hand—hypodermic in this case, with a scalpel in the throat for good measure. Lucas scrunched the heavy white curtain in his fist, swallowing down a wave of helplessness. He’d be the first to admit this murder had gotten to him, but a deep sense of foreboding had settled on his shoulders.

“Be careful,” he called as she pushed through the doors. Martinez waved, then she was gone. The doors swished back into place. Lucas crossed his arms and whistled the Jeopardy tune. Thirty seconds. That was all she was getting.

“Everything all right, Lucas?” Melissa called.

“Peachy,” he said, eyes glued to the swinging doors. “How are you doing?”

Melissa pushed the curtain aside, and Lucas caught a glimpse of Macy, curled on her side, eyes closed. “How is she?”

“I need to talk to you about that. I don’t know if it has anything to do with this evening, but she mentioned a man—”

“Yeah?” Lucas patted her arm distractedly. “One sec, okay?” Martinez’s time was up. He took off down the hall at a jog. Where the hell were all the people? The night had taken on a surreal edge, as though he were lost in some post-apocalyptic world where everyone had disappeared. First an entire upscale neighborhood and now the hospital. It couldn’t be just the six of them here. Surely Melissa and the Barbies had security of some sort. He passed room after room, all dark, then another nurse’s station—all lit up with nobody home.

Just beyond the empty station lay the wide double doors. He hit them at a run, ignoring the pain that flared along his shoulder, dreading what he’d find on the other side. He caught a fleeting glimpse of two figures, one in uniform, before he could catch his headlong flight and spin around.

“Yo, Jacobson. Slow down. You’re going to hurt someone.” Martinez stood just on the other side. She ducked one wildly swinging door and caught Lucas’s shirt as he skidded past. “I thought you were supposed to stay with the kid,” she said.

“I thought you were supposed to stay with the kid,” he fired back.

“Sorry,” another voice cut in. “That’s my fault.”

Lucas took in Martinez’s friendly smile before he turned toward the speaker. If she wasn’t feeling threatened, he didn’t have a reason to be either, right? The stranger met Lucas’s glare with a smile. Slouched against the wall, hands slung into his pockets, he didn’t look threatening, but looks could be deceiving.

If possible, this corridor was even more deserted. Overhead lights near the door kept it bright enough, but just a few feet down the hall they petered out. A lone red, glowing exit sign far off in the distance sat above a bank of elevators. Lucas finally gave in to his frustrated curiosity. “Where the hell is everyone?”

Martinez said, “These are the medical offices and labs. There won’t be anybody in here until morning. You’ve left the ER.”

Elvis had left the building. He’d forgotten someone, though. Lucas looked the stranger up and down. “If that’s the case, then what’s he doing here?”

“He” was the scarecrow leaning against the wall, giving the term 'pained smile' a new name. Forced didn’t begin to cover it. Everything about him looked forced. Intense. Lucas couldn’t understand why Martinez was smiling at the guy like a lovesick teenager. This man was dangerous. Despite the syrupy smile and casual posture, he wasn’t feeling casual. One look at his eyes proved that.

The intimidation wasn’t physical. They were approximately the same height and build, although Lucas liked to think of himself as slim while this dude was downright gaunt. His face was sunken beneath his cheekbones, and the jeans and T-shirt hung off his frame. He wore his hair longer than Lucas did, long enough that his ears were hidden and the ends had started to curl up at the edges. Okay, his eyes were gorgeous, a rich, golden brown—Lucas had a thing for eyes. But the package as a whole unnerved him, especially considering the circumstances.

“This is Jase,” Martinez cooed, and she could have said, “This is Jesus,” for all the awe in her voice. “Jase, this is Lucas.”

“Lucas,” Jase said, in that same quiet, intense voice. “Nice to meet you.”

Lucas blinked, then shook off a wave of sleepiness. “Whatever.” He turned to Martinez. “I hate to interrupt your reunion, but—”

“What reunion?” She blinked innocently.

The longer he was away from Macy, the more antsy Lucas became. Witnessing Martinez’s transformation from tough-girl cop to doe-eyed teenager wasn’t helping. “Your reunion with your friend,” he explained, “but I need you back down the hall with Macy.”

The man came to life, like an animal catching a scent. “I’d like to see Macy,” he said. It wasn’t a question, either. Lucas felt the hair on the back of his neck rise, and he almost jumped out of his skin when Martinez smiled and spoke.

“Okay,” she said. “She’s right down the hall.”

What? Lucas grabbed her arm. “What the hell are you doing?”

The radio on her shoulder crackled, the overhead fluorescents hummed, and Martinez blinked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “I’m taking Jase to Macy. He wants to see her.”

Alarm shot up Lucas’s spine and adrenaline coursed through his blood, as though his body knew a fight was coming. “I don’t care,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “what the fuck Jase wants.”

Martinez’s mouth formed an O. It took all Lucas’s restraint not to slap her.

“Please,” Jase said. He’d slouched against the wall again. “Don’t be upset. I’m not going to hurt her.”

“You’ve got that fucking right,” Lucas snapped, releasing Martinez.

The bastard had the nerve to look bemused. He blinked several times, eyes playing over Lucas. “Calm down, Lucas. I’m no threat, I promise. But you need to take me to see Macy now.”

Just how far down the rabbit hole was this guy?

Lucas stabbed a finger at Jase’s chest. “I should call the cops and throw your creepy ass in jail, buddy. The only reason I’m not is because you’re Martinez’s friend.”

“Oh no,” Martinez piped up. “We just met.”

Lucas’s rant derailed. He’d known Martinez for two hours, but that had been enough time to gauge how seriously she took her job. He hadn’t been pleased about her lack of judgment before, but now he was just plain scared. She’d been ready to let a stranger get close to Macy. He felt at an uncharacteristic loss for words.

Jase filled the silence, his previous unassuming tone holding a fair amount of curiosity. “Don’t be angry with her.”

“Shut up,” Lucas spat.

“She really can’t help herself.”

Lucas didn’t know who to be offended for, himself or Martinez.

Jase peeled away from the wall, stepping forward, damn gorgeous eyes glittering. “I’ve never met anybody like you before, Lucas.”

“I get that all the time.” Beside him, Martinez shifted, started to speak. Lucas cut her off with an angry gesture. “Get back to Macy. Now,” he growled.

He couldn’t order her, not really, but he could make her life difficult if he filed a complaint. She shot him a wounded look, and he rolled his eyes. What the hell was with the pout of betrayal? She was the one out of line, not him.

“Go on, Carla,” Jase murmured, jerking his head toward the doors and, like a puppet on a string, she obeyed, pushing through to the other side without a backward glance.

Lucas’s mouth went dry. “Who the hell are you?”

“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” The wack job pasted his fake smile back in place. “I only want to help Macy.”

And Lucas wanted to marry Nurse Barbie. Tell me another one, you creepy fuck. “Good for you. Now get the hell out of this hospital before I call the cops.” Jase raised an eyebrow, and Lucas clenched his teeth. “More cops.”

At some point, he’d come up on the balls of his feet and his hands were clenched into fists. He hadn’t taken three years of Krav Maga for nothing. He could kill someone with a People magazine if he had to.

He hoped it didn’t come to that.

It didn’t. Still sporting that “Well, aren’t you amusing?” aura, Jase backed away down the corridor. “I’m leaving,” he said, melodious voice more soothing than it had any right to be. Just as he passed out of the halo of light, he smiled...and by God, if it didn’t look like a real one, softening his features and reaching his eyes for the first time.

Lucas refused to acknowledge his primal reaction to it. He watched until Jase passed under the exit sign and pushed through the door into the humid Florida night.

Lucas made the same trek himself, wary, half expecting Jase to pop back in at any second saying, “Just kidding! Now take me to see Macy,” but he reached the end of the corridor without incident. A sign beside the exit read “Door Locks Automatically.”

Funny how much safer that made him feel. He hovered for another minute, straining to hear anything from the other side. Nothing. He might as well have been standing in a tomb. Now there was a cheery thought. Grimacing, and unable to shake the feeling that trouble was still right around the corner, Lucas left to deal with Martinez.