Bleeding Green (7 page)

Chapter 12

L
aur
el opened her eyes. She felt her hand clasped. The patrician features of Brodie’s lovely profile came into view. Gentleness and peace radiated from her soul. Why did she look so sad and weary? Laurel pressed the hand holding hers.

Brodie turned her head and a smile lit up the whole room. “Laurel?”

“Where am I?” Her body felt as if she had been stretched on a pulley. Without moving her head, her eyes swung around the room, trying to see something familiar
.

Brodie scooted the cushioned, aluminum chair closer to the bed and answered. “You are in the hospital in Bytoona.” Her voice was soft and low.

A frown caused Laurel’s eyes to squint. She winced as she raised her left hand to touch her cheek, as if to assure herself that this was real. Her hand moved to the bandaged area under her chin.

“He got me good, didn’t he?” Her eyes sought Brodie’s warm, compassionate gaze. “What’s wrong with my back?”

As Brodie began to answer, a no-nonsense nurse bustled into the room. Chirping like a fat robin, she wound the blood pressure cuff around Laurel’s right arm. “How are we this afternoon?”

Belligerent feelings welled in Laurel. Not being in the best frame of mind or not even sure of her mind, let alone what had happened to her body, Laurel leveled a cranky stare at the busy woman, “We, indeed!”

“My, my, hurting a bit, are we? You took quite a bashing, young lady! My name is Leila and I will be your evening nurse, sweetie.” She gave Laurel’s hip a pat. “You’re holding your own though.” The nurse administered the scheduled dose of narcotics into the IV in Laurel’s arm, then nodded at the machine displaying her vital signs. Seeming satisfied, she smacked her lips together and departed, whistling under her breath.

Laurel rotated her head a fraction toward her human lifeline. “Where are we?”

Leaning slightly on the bed, Brodie supported Laurel’s arm with her left as she gently caressed her partner’s arm with soothing strokes using her right hand. “You are in Intensive Care, sweetheart. The best the doctors can figure is that a large, sharp knife was thrown with considerable force and speared your upper back. Laurel, thank God, it hit you so high! A few inches lower and it would have penetrated your lung. Last night, the surgeons repaired the wound and gave you several units of blood. You also have five stitches under your chin.” Her voice lowered to a murmur. “God, what a bastard! He came very close to killing you, my dear.” Tears swam in her coffee-colored eyes. “I telephoned your children. Amelia and Graham will come at a moment’s notice. They are waiting for an update on your condition.”

Closing her eyes, Laurel clasped her partner’s arm in a gentle hold. Her throat was so dry that her words scraped out with a raspy sound. “There’s no need. They will have to take off work and I would much rather see them at Christmas. Okay?” She opened her eyes. Pain owned her gaze. “I have you. Tell them I love them and I’ll call soon.”

Her eyes closed, as a moan whispered from her dry lips.

Brodie felt Laurel’s grasp relax and watched as the features of her face loosened, evidence that hurting aches were letting go as the medications kicked in.

All at once, Laurel’s eyes flew open. “Jackson?” she asked in alarm.

Patting her arm, Brodie answered, “Not to worry, love. This is one of those times I really admire the Florida Park Service. You all are a true team! When the going gets tough, you all pull together like a well-honed, finely tuned machine. Your dashing Lawrence Deville is caring for Jackson. Bill Olson is the ranger that found you. He was so distraught, Laurel, that he touched the core of my heart with his concern.”

A sweet smile lifted Laurel’s lips as she fought to keep her eyes from shutting.

Noticing this, Brodie made one last remark, “Boyd Warner has his hand bandaged. According to Bill, he was so angry he punched the water heater in the chase a few times!” She couldn’t resist a smirk. “Problem is, it wasn’t Ernie Buckle, so the water heater was very unforgiving to Boyd’s hand. Might even be broken.”

Mentioning Ernie’s name was taking a chance, but Brodie wanted to see how Laurel reacted. So far it was just a guess on the part of everyone connected to the horrible case.

“Ernie Buckle. He found me. He is whacked out, scary, unhinged.” Her words slurred together. “Have they caught him?”

“Not yet. But they will. The next time you wake up, you will probably have a roomful of law enforcement in here. You’ve been out of it for over twenty-four hours, sweetheart. They need to hear your story. In the meantime, Lt. Meer telephoned about three hours ago to see how you are doing. She wants me to call her as soon as you are coherent.” She watched Laurel slip into sleep. She doubted that the aching woman had even heard the end of their conversation.

She leaned back in her chair. Weariness was catching up with her. She had been up since Janice had phoned. Rushing out of her evening class at the college, she tore up the road to the Bytoona Hospital. She glanced at her 1946 antique Bulova watch. Her thumb caressed the face. How she loved this watch! It had been her father’s. Mentally shaking herself, she realized that she had been at the hospital for almost twenty-two hours. A hot shower would be heaven! Not to mention clean clothes. Each of her teeth felt as if they were wearing sweaters. Maybe, Nurse Leila would give her a toothbrush? Nah. Not a good idea. Probably charge it to Laurel’s hospital stay for twenty-five dollars.

Elbows on the arms of the chair, she massaged her temples. She needed to telephone Boyd and Carolyn Meer. Let them know Laurel was sound and rational.

Pushing off an arm of the inhospitable chair, Brodie felt as if every joint needed a good oiling. When did she get so old?

Migrating down the wide hallway, she looked for a quiet spot to make several phone calls. Spotting a nook with numerous padded chairs, artificial plants, and a landscape scene that appeared to have been painted on warped cardboard, she plunked down. She punched in Boyd’s number first.

“This is Boyd.”

“Hello, Boyd. Reporting in on our patient or maybe I should say, victim.” An almost spiteful tone colored her words, she realized.
Get a grip, Brodie. Watch your tongue.
Although she respected Laurel’s boss, it had been a long time coming. In her mind, his ego tended to take from his employees. Sometimes curbing her words had been a challenge. She didn’t want to influence Laurel’s already difficult position.

Concern loaded his words. “How is she?”

“She’ll live. In a lot of pain, although they have her heavily medicated.”

“Good to hear, good to hear. I have been holding off the troops, but now that she is conscious, they are all going to need to talk to her.”

“If you could give her until about six o’clock this evening, I think she might be able to offer the needed information.”

“I hate to bother her so soon, but it’s necessary.”

“Believe me, I understand. Nobody wants that rabid psychopath caught more than I do!” She spat this out with more vehemence than intended.

“Are you taking care of yourself? Have you had any rest?”

“I got a bit of sleep last night. They brought in some sort of sleeper chair for me, but they came in to check on Laurel about every two minutes.” She produced a wry chuckle. “The Lake County sheriff’s department has been here off and on since I came in last night. Just so happens that a deputy is not here at the moment. Laurel just spoke for the first time about a half hour ago.”

“Did she mention Ernie Buckle?”

“She did. It was him.”

“The Georgia highway patrol caught him on I-75 near Valdosta. The damn bastard had run out of fuel! He was sitting in our truck. Laurel’s truck. Might as well have sent out a national broadcast! Not easy to miss a white state truck with our emblem on the side and Florida tags. He fell off his rocker big time.”

Brodie gave a half-snort and decided she was too weary to make any more chitchat.

“You need some rest. I’ll be over around six.”

After that exchange, Brodie found that she was stumbling over words while talking to their friend, Carolyn Meer. Lt. Meer caught on right away and ordered Brodie to go to Laurel’s house and nap.

Double-checking the dark brown leather satchel, another fond inheritance from her father who had been a professor, she saw the envelope was still in the bag. She and Laurel both kept a copy of a Designation Health Care Surrogate and a Living Will in a very convenient spot to grab in case of a medical emergency. The State of Florida does not recognize same-sex partnerships. Brodie never wanted to go through the horrible, wrenching pain that she observed in the movie,
If These Walls Could Talk.

Chapter 13

L
in
ed up outside the Intensive Care Unit was a veritable battery of officials. Their impatience was almost tangible. Nurse Leila was not happy. This was her arena. She followed the doctor’s orders to the letter. Laurel was her patient and not to be disturbed. Only Professor Black, aka Dr. Brodie Black, had permission to be near Laurel at this time
.

Leila clicked her tongue. Hands on ample hips she glared at the computer screen in the nurses’ station. Not seeing what was on the screen, her mind ruminated on the relationship of the two women. Hers was not to question why but to do or die. Or so she believed. Getting to the First Baptist Church of Bytoona on Sunday didn’t happen often, as she chose to work most weekends but she was always there in heart. How she missed the choir! She knew the first soprano section was not the same without her mellifluous rejoicing. Praise the Lord! A high warble escaped from her mouth as the hymn
Onward Christian Soldiers
came soaring from her throat. Remembering where she was she clamped her mouth after the words, “marching as to war” flew out.
Leila get a grip,
she scolded under her breath!

She would do her duty and none would be the wiser about her personal convictions. After all, the good Lord would sort it all out on Judgment Day.

Marching to the ICU doors, she threw them open with the gentleness of a bull. Faced with four men, three of which had on uniforms, she trumpeted in a low voice, which is difficult to do.

“Gentlemen, you may not see Ms. Grey until she is fully awake. Please, wait in the lobby until I call you.” Spying a woman in a gray cop’s uniform, she cleared her throat in embarrassment. “’Scuse me ma’am, that includes you too.”

Lieutenant Meer smiled at the formidable woman. “Yes, ma’am.” Did the creature rule the hospital or what! Carolyn knew she would never want to be on the woman’s bad side. She entertained a disturbing image of the nurse leading an army into battle.

The doors closed with a whoosh. Perplexed, the group of four glanced at each other.

The deputy from Lake County shuffled his feet encased in shiny black shoes, “Female version of Attila, the Hun!”

Bureau Chief Staley, gestured toward the waiting area. “Shall we sit down?”

“Appears best to error on the side of caution.” Boyd Warner smiled as he stroked his Van Dyke beard.

Just as they settled into the various chairs, Brodie came striding past the waiting room. Navy pea coat, gray flannel trousers, white turtle neck cotton shirt with a navy and gray scarf floating on the breeze created by her hurried gait. Brown roper boots clicked on the linoleum tiles.

Carolyn called out to her, “Brodie!”

The uniformed assemblage was a trifle unnerving to Brodie at first as she gazed at the authoritative group. She gathered her wits and treated the group to a brilliant smile. “Hello!” She nodded at three people she knew—Caroline, Boyd and John.

All three men jumped to their feet.

Brodie extended an arm toward the Lake County deputy. “I’m Brodie Black.”

He shook her hand with a firm grip. “Deputy Clark.”

“Have you all been here very long?”

Boyd answered for the group. “No. The general of the ICU just ordered us to sit!”

“She can be a bit of a tyrant. But it helps me believe that Laurel’s in good hands. That nurse takes her job very seriously, which is good in my opinion!”

Lt. Meer stepped toward Brodie wrapping her in a warm hug. “Are you okay?”

Brodie was aware of the “no touching” policy for people in uniform. Laurel had impressed this on her. So, she was doubly touched by Caroline’s demonstration of affection in front of the other uniformed men. Squeezing her back, she said, “I had a hot shower and a bite to eat. I’m a new person!”

John Staley leaned forward to press her arm as she stepped back from Caroline. “Laurel is okay, all things considered?” He said the last part of his sentence with a shrug as they all recognized how serious her condition was.

“Yes, John. We talked a bit a couple of hours ago, and I understood that you all were allowed to see her around 6:00, if she’s awake.”

As if on cue, half of the double door to the ICU was opened. Nurse Leila appeared with great dignity. “We can allow two of you at a time for ten minutes.” She nodded toward Brodie, giving an approving smile. “Of course, that doesn’t mean you, Dr. Black. You can go right on back.”

Brodie smiled back. She likes me? I don’t believe it. She felt positive the woman disapproved of their relationship. “Thank you. I’m on my way.” She slipped by the round woman.

Nurse Leila held up a commanding hand. “The patient has just woken and knows you are all here. Please, be gentle with her.”

Deputy Clark winked at the formidable apparition. “You bet, ma’am. We’ll be quick. Just a few questions.”

The nurse couldn’t help herself. Curiosity got the best of her. “Do you know who did this to her?” Bytoona was a small town. This kind of thing just didn’t happen in the small community.

“We do, ma’am. At least we are pretty darn sure. Hearing it from Laurel Grey will make all the difference.”

Leila visibly softened. This policeman could melt any woman’s heart. She almost simpered for a second, as a cupid smile graced her face. She held the door open as Deputy Clark and Lt. Carolyn Meer walked through.

Brodie gave Laurel a quick kiss on the forehead before she pulled a chair into a corner of the tiny area. Observing Laurel’s pale face, she asked, “Are you ready for the troops?”

Laurel attempted a smile but winced. The area under her chin was too tender. “Bring them on!” These words came out like a strangled croak from a dying frog. She added, “That sweet nurse just told me I would be moved to a room on the second floor tomorrow morning.”

“That’s good news! Means you’re doing well.” Brodie sat in her chair as the two law enforcement officers were ushered into the room. Although representing two different agencies, Department of Environmental Protection Law Enforcement and the county L.E., they were accustomed to working together. Many were the times the park’s L.E. wasn’t available to come when needed, as their department was spread very thin over the state of Florida. As little as 87 uniformed personnel in the Bureau of Park Police enforced the law on close to 800,000 acres.

Laurel held out a hand to Carolyn as she entered the room, “Thank you for being there.”

The lieutenant wiped a tear from her eye, as she took her friend’s hand. “You silly goose! As soon as the call went out on the radio with the words female ranger attacked, I knew it was you. I made the trip from the northern part of Timucuan Springs to the main use area in record time.”

Carolyn looked at Deputy Clark and explained. “Laurel and I have worked together for over three years. She is one of my dearest friends.”

The deputy smiled at Laurel, “I understand. Laurel, we will make this very short, at least on my part.” He gestured toward the curtain at the foot of her bed and lowered his voice to a whisper, “That nurse scares me. She told me to be quick and I intend to be quick.” He gave his signature wink again.

The effect wasn’t the same on Laurel. She didn’t melt into a pile of warm butter.

After affirming to the two L.E. officers that her attacker was Ranger Ernie Buckle, there wasn’t much more to be said other than a brief discussion of Laurel’s wounds. A last hug from Carolyn and the two left.

Boyd entered the little room accompanied by John.

Laurel got the jump on her supervisor. “How’s your arm? I hear the water heater took a little beating?” She tried to repress a painful grin, but her eyes sparkled with laughter.

“Afraid so.” With a sheepish look, Boyd rolled up his long sleeve shirt exposing a bandaged forearm and wrist. “Too bad it wasn’t Buckle. Wouldn’t have hurt so bad.”

Always polished and gracious as befitted a bureau chief, John said, “Laurel, we want you to know that the department expresses heartfelt condolences. If there is anything we can do to help you in your recovery period, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

To have the bureau chief and the park manager at her bedside in the hospital was extraordinary enough to keep the sparkle in her eyes. “A raise perhaps?”

As expected, this request produced wry laughter from both men. Money was something the state didn’t have, especially when managing natural resources and environmental concerns. The new governor of the state was for development—not environmental protection.