Chapter Two
Lexi guided her four-legged ambassador through the automatic doors to the hospital amid tail wagging, smiles, and visitors asking to pet the dog. Several nurses recognized Hoover’s service vest and stopped for an introduction.
After last night, there was no way in hell she’d go anywhere without her dog. Friendly with nearly everyone she met, her canine companion would protect her if the need arose.
“Lexi, hold up.” Frannie’s voice, coming from the ER wing, was strong and soothing but held a familiar edge. So much more than an overseer of health services, she cared for all within and functioned as a patient advocate.
“Hi, Ms. Carmody,” Lexi answered her mentor’s frown with a grin. The distance between them buffered and protected the administrator in the event Lexi’s electronic endeavors ever came under fire.
“You know…” The older woman’s voice faltered, and she tilted her head to the side as if unsure how to proceed.
“Yes, I do,” Lexi murmured, keeping her voice low to avoid eavesdroppers. “But considering all you’ve done for me, I don’t want our association public—just in case.” Those affiliated with Lexi in any way would be questioned if her undertakings went south.
“Still keeping your nose clean?” The gaze under those arched brows could delve deeper than a surgical probe.
Lexi’s widened smile delivered her answer. “You know me. I believe in right and wrong, black and white, and avoiding the grays in between.”
“Oh, Lexi. The world is full of grays, yes. However, be careful, for many either don’t recognize or can’t interpret them as the slippery slope into a shadowy world. You have to tread the line very carefully.”
The reference alluded to Lexi’s hacking tendencies. Though never used for illicit, monetary gain, her unique skills kept her up to date and provided their own reward. Life had taught her the frivolousness of greed, the wisdom to save money, and the patience to intervene when the timing was right.
“I thought Hoover and I would make our rounds today, visit the children’s ward, oncology, et cetera.” She saw no reason to refer to Charlie, her last stop for the morning. Always well informed, her mentor would anticipate the visit.
Frannie had helped Lexi find a job and at the same time widened the distance from a life of prostitution, a world that existed as a foreign entity to her now. Months of the older woman’s unwavering determination had earned trust while life’s lessons belabored the point that certain individuals weren’t meant to survive street life. It wasn’t always the assailant’s hand that delivered a death sentence. Ravages materialized in psychological as well as physical form, devastating and withering the spirit in preparation of harsh reality slaughtering the corporeal remains.
“Sure, okay.” Frannie’s smile faltered if only a bit. Perceptive knowledge scoured from an unfathomable well of experience kept the older woman in the loop, if not with specifics, at least general directions. “I’ll call the wings and let them know you two are coming.” Bending over to pet Hoover, she added, “Your friend made it through surgery and is recovering in room 345. I’m glad you’re wearing a hat and have your hair up. I smell trouble coming. Call me if I can help.”
With all her advanced computer skills, Lexi couldn’t hold a candle to this woman’s uncanny ability to just know when trouble embroiled one of her old friends. “I’ll be careful. Always am.”
Occasional visits to the wards provided a way for Lexi to pay it forward after meeting Frannie and the subsequent rescue from street life. Giving false ID to obtain therapy dog certification meant little when witnessing Hoover’s ability to bring joy to the young and old alike, but anonymity was a glove she never wanted to lose. “I’ll call you later.”
With the beginning of visiting hours, early arrivals sauntered by in muted tones of hope and optimism, several stopping to greet the four-footed symbol of compassion. One such little girl couldn’t contain her excitement and threw her arms around the dog’s neck before her father could pull her back.
“We’re going to see my new baby sister.” The young girl’s proud declaration as she hugged Hoover validated hope for the future.
“Congratulations.” Lexi smiled at the middle-aged man beaming from ear to ear. “Now comes the easy part—loving them.”
“Thank you, and I definitely will. My girl is as healthy as she is beautiful. We’re bringing her home today.” Pride and something more indefinable radiated in warm waves of confidence and assurance from the father. The connection formed in that split second carried the weight of understanding, a kinship to appreciate and enjoy life as experienced in the innocence of a gentle smile, the squeal of a newborn baby, or the acceptance of a stranger’s encouragement. No doubt this man would cherish his family, love them, and be loved in return.
Several children in the oncology wing brought tears to her eyes, surreptitiously swiped away as various IV pumps, monitors, and unknown devices beeped, blipped, and buzzed. Still, machines failed to dampen the spirits of the brave little fighters. Hoover nuzzled and chuffed over each one, front paws on the mattress to rain pup kisses on one little boy unable to move anything but his right hand. A smile filled his face as his small fingers sifted through the soft fur. His parents looked on with tear-brimmed eyes, unable to voice their gratitude.
She had so much for which to be thankful—a safe refuge, companionship, and a job that honed and utilized her programming skills yet allowed her to work at home. Developing software games had been a childhood dream, now fulfilled, as she passed rooms oozing the expected scents of antiseptic, hints of excrement, and other body odors. She no longer had a family but still had many reasons to give thanks.
En route to Charlie’s room, she passed through the maternity ward and couldn’t help but stop in front of the neonatal unit. Through the glass partition, nurses measured, weighed, and examined babies while a young mother sat in a rocker, garbed in scrubs, feeding her newborn. Despite the fact Lexi had sworn to never bear children, lacking the confidence even if she ever did find the right man, she loved observing the bond between mother and child. A bond she well remembered as safe and warm-hearted, but like life, all too fragile and snapped in the blink of a car accident.
“Are you here to see a baby?” The same little girl who’d stopped her in the lobby now pressed her nose to the window and waved to the mother in the rocker. “That’s my baby sister.” Beside her, the father smiled, conveying a timeless love, returned by the young mother.
“No. I don’t have any family. But I love seeing the little ones, so well cared for with so much love.” A wistfulness tore through her heart for something she could never have. How could she bring life into the world only to face the possibility of her fate? “It’s so quiet here.”
As if drawing on their earlier connection, the father’s sad gaze zeroed in on her pain. “You’re still young, which means there are so many possibilities before you. I hope you don’t close yourself off from the best part of life.”
She couldn’t accept the pity he radiated, not when she was alive and well while Charlie lay in a hospital bed, mutilated and surely skeptical of surviving the week. Lethal animosity had emanated from the dirtball in the alley. He wouldn’t stop.
“I have rounds to make. Take care of your family.” Fighting back a tide of emotions intent on sweeping her into a vortex of pain, Lexi struggled to curve her trembling lips, her best imitation of a smile before turning away.
“Come on, Hoover. We have one more stop to cheer up a very special young lady.”
Modern, larger hospitals secluded the obstetrics wing from all others, but here the next ward opened up behind a set of heavy, swinging doors. Room 345 lay two rooms farther on the left, past the linen supply closet and a good distance from the nurses’ station.
An unseen shadow raised pinpricks of trepidation across her shoulders that grew with each step. A glance at Hoover revealed her usual calm, smiling expression edged with a slight tightness around her mouth. The dog alwa
ys sensed and reacted to Lexi’s anxiety.
Her momentum faltered in front of the room while her sixth sense screamed for her to run. As if absorbing her swelling fear, Hoover nudged her knee and whined.
Soundless steps carried them into the room, in case Charlie was asleep. She closed the door behind her to afford them a little more privacy with the forthcoming conversation. The lights remained off with the hanging curtain pulled around the cubicle to create a false sense of privacy, and no one occupied the closest bed. Thank you, Frannie.
Sudden squeaking like wet sneakers on tile floors combined with a muffled, weak cry to accelerate the adrenaline surging through her system. Electronic hospital records indicated Charlie’s return from the recovery room had occurred in the wee hours of the morning, so she shouldn’t be out of bed yet.
Hoover whined.
Bolting forward and sliding the curtain back revealed a new nightmare. “Charlie—shit!” On the other side of the bed and smothering her friend with a pillow, evil incarnate smiled while Charlie’s hands scrabbled for purchase in her bid to gain precious oxygen. Frantic, ineffective movements failed to dislodge the killer’s suffocating clutch.
“I’ll be with you next, bitch.” The bastard’s mouth and throat worked to ooze malevolence in whispery syllables of hatred, disdain, and hubris. Flaring nostrils and bared teeth defined his fury. The shark at the top of the food chain adorned himself with a layer of gold around his neck and sparkling jewels on several fingers. From across the bed, his greasy breath fouled the air with its stench.
For a heartbeat, shock held her in its ephemeral grasp before reality intervened with his intended scenario. He’s going to kill me. Lexi was no match for his strength. Her dog had never experienced this scenario but would undoubtedly protect without hesitation. Even together, they were no match for this freak of nature.
Without conscious thought, she yanked the pillow down far enough for Charlie to take a deep breath before pulling back from the pimp’s grasping reach. Hoover lunged at the assailant’s hand, who snapped his arm back with a split second to spare.
With a growled threat, the dirtball again covered Charlie’s face. Paralyzing rage coursed through Lexi’s veins, her breath coming in short gasps as her mind worked out how to best the dirtball who held equal determination but greater strength.
On the wall behind every bed was a little plastic knob, known as the code red button. Its activation would bring a dozen emergency personnel to resuscitate a patient.
Charlie’s hands flailed wildly in her attempt to scratch, hit, or blind her attacker. The ineffective struggle seemed to inflame her aggressor’s delight.
Lexi slammed her hand on the toggle switch that would flood the room with immediate help, each person bearing assorted equipment or pushing the crash cart.
In the next heartbeat, an announcement over the hospital’s PA system startled her. “Code red, room 345. Code red, room 345.” Three more times, the announcement blared its urgent warning in a calm, monotone voice.
Stunned surprise etched his features, the momentary indecision giving way to fury. That second of doubt prompted a weakening of his resolve, culminating in a snarl of rage.
Hoover continued her low growl while baring teeth at the same time Lexi snatched the pillow from Charlie’s face. Follow through saw the pillow arcing behind her to land halfway on the other bed before dropping to the floor. Charlie’s immediate gasping breath signaled good timing and Lexi having trumped deadly intentions.
“Hoover, out. We gotta go.” She prayed it was enough. As the prick circled the foot of the bed, Lexi and Hoover bolted out the door and back toward the maternity wing. Keeping her head down, she shoved on the double doors. Fear-induced adrenaline enhanced her strength but included a backbite in reducing coordination. Her entire body shook.
Still standing in front of the window, the father and daughter she’d met in the lobby looked up, the father’s frown and head tilt indicative of a puzzle solver.
“He’s after me.” As soon as she’d forced the words past the fist-sized lump in her throat, a harsh noise from behind indicated she’d misjudged the killer’s speed.
Lexi froze. If she’d stayed on the other wing, the rush of people would’ve ensured her temporary safety despite forfeiting her anonymity. There was no room to circumvent the maniac, and calling for help might see innocent people hurt.
Rage encompassed his face, the need to murder written in his furrowed brow and curled lip. Two strides closed the distance as the prick reached for her. He stood at least a head taller and carried a good hundred pounds more on his thickly muscled frame. His height and form carried the strength to snap her neck with ease.
Her canine friend retained her own ideas with raised hackles and stiff body posture, the low growls rumbling in her chest obtaining the desired effect.
A split second of hesitation.
“No, Hoover.” A dog bite would bring people, and questions, and police.
The snatch master froze and then smiled. “He’s not gonna bite me in a hospital. You’re coming with me, bitch.”
As the smug lout reached for her, a hand from behind latched on to the hustler’s wrist, twisting enough to throw the predator off balance.
“Leave her alone.” Strength and determination radiated from a face turned granite hard. Though equal in height, the father was a powerhouse of determination. A flick of his gaze and he murmured, “Are you all right, hon?”
“Yes. I didn’t do anything wrong…” Desperation blurted the truth in a way nothing else could. “He was going to kill Charlie.”
“Go. I’ve seen his type before. He won’t follow you, for now.”
Without another word, Lexi darted for the stairway at the end of the hall with Hoover by her side.