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Page 15


  On her way to gossip with the triage nurse, Claire was close to successfully sneaking through the heavy white door when she heard her name.

  “Nurse O’Malley?” Murray’s tone was all business. “Have you got a moment, please?”

  It briefly crossed Claire’s mind to disappear through the door anyway, pretend not to have heard in the hope that Murray would pick on someone else, but reluctantly, she released the door and slowly turned.

  The two officers, one young and handsome, the other older and tired looking, towered over Murray, even when standing metres behind her.

  “Follow me, please.”

  Claire followed, as did the officers, and they found themselves occupying a multipurpose office. With a glint in her eye and a cheeky grin, Claire leaned in close, but spoke loud enough for the officers to hear. “Really, Dr. Murray, I’ve told you before, I don’t like doing this in front of an audience.”

  Murray’s glare left Claire with little doubt that she should shut her mouth and keep it that way.

  “Nurse Claire O’Malley, this is Officer Harvey and Officer Sayers.”

  Claire simply nodded, fearing a verbal greeting might antagonise Murray.

  “These two officers are here to assist a patient from Hemworth who is scheduled to arrive in a few minutes.”

  Hemworth?

  Hemworth was a high security correctional facility about forty kilometres east of the hospital. Claire was certain they housed their own infirmary.

  “You and I will be the medical team making the initial assessment of the prisoner…I mean patient’s injuries.” She stared at Claire. “You and I alone, Nurse. Am I making myself clear?”

  Claire nodded.

  Officer Sayers stepped forward. “The prisoner is from the female division, fifty-three years of age, and not in the best shape. Officer Harvey and I will be on hand for the duration of her stay in the ED. Prisoners have no rights of privacy in a public hospital situation. You won’t be alone with her at any time. She won’t be alone at any time.”

  Murray spoke again. “Preliminary reports from the ambos suggest a severe head trauma.”

  Officer Sayers continued. “She has a homemade spear impaled in the left-hand side of her head, just behind the ear.” The officer shrugged. “She must have pissed someone off real bad.”

  Claire guessed the patient probably needed surgery, a job too big for a prison hospital.

  Murray eyed Claire. “You stick to the assessment and you watch yourself. Nothing fancy, Claire. Understood?”

  “Got it.” She knew Murray trusted her. She also knew that to have two officers attend in advance, people in high places must have thought she was dangerous. Murray would have already taken Claire offline, and the nurse unit manager would have redistributed her current workload.

  On the way to meet the patient, Claire fell into step with the young Officer Harvey. “So, what’s she inside for?”

  “Murder.” He didn’t bat an eyelid. “She slit the throat of her lesbian lover.”

  Fuck. “You serious?”

  “Of course, she claims to be innocent.”

  “Don’t they all?” Claire wanted to murder Murray.

  Sayers’s phone beeped. She glanced at it briefly and eyed Murray. “Show time, Doctor.”

  Accompanied by two officers in uniform, perhaps prison guards, but certainly not police, Maree Black’s trolley was whisked into emergency and directly into the largest and most private examination room. The two prison guards were relieved of their duty as Sayers took over.

  “All right, Paddy?” Murray asked, waiting for the okay to enter and examine the patient.

  “Yep. You?” Claire was imagining Charlize Theron as the serial killer in Monster. She was ready.

  “We’ll be fine. Follow my lead and remember we have an audience in there.” She affectionately squeezed Claire’s shoulder.

  Sayers poked her head out the door. “We’re ready for you now.”

  Claire drew a deep breath and stepped over the threshold. Prepared for the worst, she stepped around Murray, but the sight left her bewildered. The woman before them was barely larger than a child. Maree Black was slight with sharp but drawn features looking much older than her fifty-three years. She sat motionless on the bed, a white cotton blanket placed neatly over her legs. Claire thought she looked a little like Helen Mirren. Expressionless, she showed no signs of pain while the object jutting from her skull appeared menacing. Claire would have been screaming, especially given the few drugs she knew the woman had been administered. Her cuffed, blood-stained hands sat atop the blanket. It was beyond Claire how such a petite, normal looking woman required such a heavy police escort. Talk about overkill.

  Claire spoke first, creating a sense of hierarchy and respect for Murray. “Good afternoon, Ms. Black. I’m Claire, your nurse, and this is Dr. Yvonne Murray. We’ll be examining you today.”

  The woman barely acknowledged their presence.

  Claire knew exactly what to do next, but waited for Murray’s instruction. It was best to establish Murray’s superiority and control immediately.

  “Ms. Black.” Murray’s attention turned to the woman. She hadn’t spoken a word and probably wouldn’t unless addressed directly. Her level of cooperation was not yet clear. “Can you please tell us what happened?”

  The handcuffed woman raised her eyebrows. “I would have thought that was obvious, Dr. Murray. I have a homemade—sorry, correction—prison made murder weapon lodged in my head.”

  “Indeed you have. We’ll get to that in a minute.” Murray eyed Claire. “Insert an IV line and check her BP, thank you, Nurse.” She stepped back, hands linked casually at her front to let Claire work in the overcrowded room.

  Taking the pair of cuffed hands in hers, Claire could have sworn a sigh, or even the slightest moan of approval, left the patient’s lips. She ignored it and turned to Officer Sayers. “I’ll need these off to insert the line.”

  Sayers glanced at Murray who gave a brief nod. She stepped forward to remove the cuffs. “Keep your hands to yourself, where I can see them, Black.”

  Black smiled and nodded.

  Claire slipped the blood pressure sleeve up Black’s arm.

  “You have very soft hands, Nurse.” Black smiled, but her eyes were cold and unnervingly dark.

  Claire ignored her.

  “You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” said Black.

  “That’s enough,” Sayers said firmly. Murray shifted nervously.

  Black’s blood pressure reading was spot on, one twenty-two over eighty, and Claire wrote it on her chart and handed it to Murray.

  Claire prepared to insert the cannula into the back of Black’s right hand.

  “So, Nurse. Ever thought of having a lover in prison?”

  Sayers stepped forward, clearly agitated. “I said that’s enough. Keep your mouth shut.”

  The grin on Black’s face turned to ice as she eyed Sayers. “I’m just making polite conversation, Officer.” She frowned at Claire. “Do you think they’d give me this soft, supple little nurse to play with at Hemworth?”

  Claire realised how deceiving looks could be. She’s a fucking nutter.

  “Quiet!” Sayers’s commanding voice caused everyone besides Black to jump. She remained impassive. “Once more, Black. Just push this once more and this examination ends. I don’t give a shit how long you have to sit around with your head split open. Do you understand me?”

  Black smiled.

  “Do you understand me?” Sayers gritted her teeth.

  “Oh, I understand all right, Officer.” Black glared. Satisfied, Sayers stepped back.

  Claire waited for things to settle before continuing. Having inserted the needle, she reached behind Black to retrieve an adhesive strip to hold the cannula in place. Once this was complete, the handcuffs would be replaced and Murray could examine the wound.

  Claire’s small frame stretched above Black, the adhesives only inches out of reach, Claire on
tippy toes.

  Lightning fast, agile, and accurate, Black grabbed the hem of Claire’s scrubs with one hand and firmly thrust her other under Claire’s top, latching on to her breast. It all happened so quickly and Black’s hand gripped Claire’s breast like a vice, squeezing and twisting with an iron-like grip. Fingernails dug in, tearing and scratching her flesh, and Claire screamed, horrified at the strength of the hand that wouldn’t release her.

  In the time that it took Sayers, Harvey, and Murray to get to Claire, Black asked, “Wouldn’t you like me to fuck you until you bleed, little whore?”

  Murray pulled Claire away by the neck of her scrubs, while Harvey held Black down long enough to enable Sayers to securely replace the handcuffs. Blood oozed from the wound where the cannula had dislodged.

  Murray was livid. “Officer, outside now, please?” She still had Claire by the neck, and as they entered the hall, pushed her against the wall.

  Claire’s chest was burning from the assault.

  “Are you okay?” asked Murray. She let go and straightened Claire’s top.

  Claire nodded.

  Murray glared daggers at Sayers, lowering her voice and stepping threateningly close. “At what stage did you feel it was appropriate not to divulge the information that this prisoner is a sociopath?”

  “She hasn’t behaved like that for some time.” Sayers at least had the decency to look sorry.

  “Right. And would it not have been a good idea to share this information so I could have allocated a male nurse to this case?”

  “I suppose it would have.”

  “You suppose? Instead, I put an attractive female nurse in that situation.”

  Sayers’s eyes slowly headed to a spot on the wall, somewhere behind Murray.

  “This doesn’t end here. That information was critical and you withheld it. Now, go back to babysitting your prisoner until I can assign a male nurse and doctor.” Murray charged off, dragging Claire behind her.

  In the privacy of Murray’s office, Claire ripped off her top and bra. The bruise on her breast was already beginning to show, and the deep scratch marks, even through her bra, were bleeding and beginning to form welts. She replaced her top and dashed down the hall to a small refrigerator, grabbing an ice pack before returning to find Murray printing a wad of documents.

  “Paddy, I’m so sorry.”

  Claire shrugged. “Distressed and disoriented patients grab us all the time. It’s no big deal.”

  Murray slouched in her worn chair. “It shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have let it happen.” She glanced toward Claire’s chest. “Can I take a look, please?”

  “This is a sly way to get me alone with my bra off, you know.”

  “You do what you can.” Murray winked, but her tone betrayed her.

  Claire couldn’t control the shaking as she placed the ice pack on the corner of the desk. Murray noticed.

  Claire looked down. The bruising was spreading, and the scratches were dripping with blood.

  Murray patted the small examination table, and Claire silently obliged, perching on the edge. “What happened today is unacceptable. That prisoner is a murderer and, I suspect, a sociopath. When I phoned Hemworth just now, I was led to believe that a file containing the relevant information was en route with the patient. When they realised it wasn’t, the conversation was shut down.”

  Murray knew the process. When a patient arrives from an institution like Hemworth, the obligation sits with the institution to ensure the safety of all medical staff. Background information in this instance was imperative.

  A knock at the door startled them both.

  “Murray, it’s just me, Ruth. Can I come in?”

  Ruth was the ED Nurse Unit Manager. She had only been in the job four months, but Claire liked her.

  Murray passed Claire her top to cover herself. “Sure, come in.”

  Ruth acknowledged Murray but spoke to Claire. “Are you okay, Claire?”

  Claire sighed. “Yeah, she certainly had a grip on her, that’s for sure.”

  “Can I get anything for you?”

  “No, thanks. Murray’s waited for ages to get me alone with my top off. We should get this over with.”

  Murray smiled at Ruth and said, “She’ll have a cup of tea with sugar, thanks.”

  “Righto.” Ruth rolled her eyes. “First day back and all, Claire. Shit luck, eh?” She disappeared.

  Murray rubbed her hands together, warming them to examine Claire. “Okay, Paddy, let’s take a look.”

  Claire lowered her top, and as Murray prepared to examine her, another knock hammered on the door.

  “Jesus. What now? Who is it?”

  “It’s Callum. Can I have a word, Dr. Murray?”

  Callum was in charge of safety. He was no pencil pusher, and the personal safety of all hospital staff was high on his list of priorities.

  Murray looked to Claire, who shrugged and covered herself again. “The universe appears averse to you and my chest becoming acquainted.”

  She gently touched Claire’s cheek and winked. “Come in, Callum.”

  Callum dwarfed them, but he never slouched, he simply found ways to lower himself. Today his backside occupied the corner of Murray’s desk.

  “I hear you two have been in the wars.”

  “Our arses were in the wind, Callum, that’s for sure,” Murray said.

  Claire liked Callum. He was decent, committed, and professional. Not once did his attention focus on anything lower than her eyes, and it must have been a sight—Claire half naked on the examination table with Murray standing between her legs.

  “Someone’s arse needs to get kicked for this,” he continued. “I just wanted to make sure you were on top of the paperwork. I was hoping to have something to correctional services this evening.”

  “I’ll examine Claire first, and we’ll write up the report immediately.”

  Callum eyed Claire. “Silence from you worries me, Paddy.”

  “If Murray doesn’t get to touch me soon, I’m worried about what she’ll do.” Claire winked.

  Callum smiled but directed his serious tone toward Murray. “I’ll leave it up to you to assess if the comedian here needs counselling.” Callum placed a camera on the desk. “Photos would help. It’s up to you, Paddy. Murray’s personal collection is one thing, but there’ll be a whole bunch of old, and not so old, men looking at them, including me, so think about it.” He made for the door. “Oh, and don’t hold back in your report. It could have been far worse.”

  Callum disappeared.

  Murray rubbed her hands, warming them again.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Murray strode to the door, opened it, and returned with a cup of tea. “Now, hopefully, we can get started.”

  Claire slumped forward, head in her hands. Until Callum had mentioned it, it hadn’t occurred to her that it could have been worse. The truth was it could have been dire. The tears came of their own accord. Claire felt like she was back on Jean’s worn leather couch again describing dreams she couldn’t control. Helplessness engulfed her. Although her injuries were mild, the fact that she had little control over someone else’s actions frightened her. As a nurse, dealing with the unpredictable every day, she found this troubling. She wished Kathryn were there.

  “Oh, Paddy.” Murray moved to pull Claire in close.

  Thankfully, Claire controlled the tears. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” She lowered the crumpled top from her chest, and Murray gently examined the mess Maree Black had left.

  “I don’t think you’ll be able to wear a normal bra for a few days.” Murray gently dabbed antiseptic fluid on the scratches, some of them deceivingly deep.

  “I have a sports crop top. That should be fine.”

  “Photos?”

  Claire thought for a moment. “Just take them. I’ll have a look and then decide.”

  “I’ll need a shot with your face in it. Verification that
the photos and the report all match up.”

  The phone rang. Murray said barely five words to the caller before hanging up and addressing Claire.

  “That was Ruth. She scheduled an EAP appointment first thing in the morning.”

  Claire sighed, annoyed at having to see Jean again. Not that it was mandatory, but everyone, including Ruth now, would be on her case if she didn’t go.

  By the time the reams of paperwork were completed, it was half an hour past knock-off time. Claire’s head ached and so did her chest. So much for my seaside seduction this evening.

  Claire thought of Kathryn the moment she walked out the door. She remembered how Kathryn had felt frightened and then dominant in her arms yesterday. Being with Kathryn hadn’t been anything like the last time she had bedded a married woman. That encounter, an error in judgement, had been one-sided, awkward, and had left Claire wanting. Sex with Kathryn hadn’t been anything like Victoria either. No, Kathryn had been something else altogether. Remembering the want in her green eyes sent a shiver down Claire’s spine that ended with moisture between her legs. Although completely unsure of her attraction and abilities, Kathryn hadn’t attempted to be something she wasn’t, she didn’t try to be lesbian; she simply endeavoured to make Claire feel good, feel something after Victoria, and that was the sexiest thing Claire had ever experienced.

  The moment Claire reached her car, she phoned Kathryn. There was no answer, but even the sound of her voice, inviting her to leave a message, was heaven to her ears.

  “Hi, it’s me. I’ve had a really shit day. I hope yours was better. I’ll see you at home soon.” Claire hung up, cursing how ridiculous she sounded, but it didn’t matter. In thirty minutes, she would be home.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kathryn struggled all morning to push thoughts of Claire to the far recesses of her mind. She showered, dressed in her favourite power suit, and ordered a taxi to her interview.

  The whole thing felt tedious. The interview was a success. She was sure a job offer would be forthcoming, but she had other, more important things on her mind. One thing in particular was the result of her revelation that morning. She needed a man.