In A Heartbeat (37 page)

“What’s going on here?” Nurse Carson filled the doorway.

Raymond drove into the nurse, forcing her against the corridor wall. Angie followed, her hands armed with another planter. Raymond quickly regained his footing and dashed down the corridor. Angie threw her planter after him, but it fell short, spewing dirt and greenery all over the immaculate floor. Out of breath, she stumbled to Nurse Carson, ignoring the calls for security from the nearby nursing station.

“Are you all right?” She tried to help Nurse Carson to her feet but discovered that she was the one in need of assistance. Her legs crumbled beneath her.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Nurse Carson said, slipping her shoulder under Angie’s arm. “Dear me, there hasn’t been this kind of excitement here for a long time.”

With a second nurse’s assistance, they managed to get Angie back in bed. Nurse Carson bustled about, re-hooking monitor lines and checking vitals. “Who was that man? Why was he here?”

“I think…I think he wanted to kill me,” Angie replied, not sure she completely understood what had just happened.

“Well, he almost did,” Nurse Carson said with a frown. “But you showed him, didn’t you, sugar?” She flushed out the intravenous line and reattached it. “Yessiree, you sure showed him.”

“Miranda,” Angie tested the name on her tongue. “He called me Miranda.” More out of habit than thought, she pressed her hand on her chest, feeling the rapid pulse beneath.

“Who the hell is Miranda?”

Chapter Thirty-One

“YOU’RE VERY LUCKY, young lady.” Her cardiologist straightened after examining her chest. “There’s some surface bruising where that man pressed on your chest, but didn’t damage the heart itself. It’s a good thing the mattress had some give to it.”

“The pressure didn’t hurt,” Angie said with confidence. “Wouldn’t it have hurt if he damaged my heart?”

“Not necessarily,” the doctor explained. “When we do the transplant, we connect the arteries and veins, but we can’t connect the nerve endings. They never grow back. Consequently, you won’t feel pain around the transplanted organ.”

“How’s everything else, Doctor?” Angela’s mother asked.

“Her lungs sound good. It’ll take some time to work out all the phlegm, but obviously the infection has been eliminated.” He flipped papers on his clipboard and recited blood count levels. “All in all, I want to keep Angela a bit longer, just to keep everything under observation, and then I’ll release her into your care.” He smiled his approval.

“Thank you, Doctor,” her mother answered.

Angela buttoned up her fancy bed jacket, a popular gift from her invalid period. Cardiac patients accumulate fancy bed jackets the way others collect shoes.

“Cheer up.” The doctor patted Angie’s leg. “You’ve got a new lease on life.” As soon as he left, her mother excused herself and followed. Angie expected as much. Out-of-earshot hallway conferences with the doctor were another commodity in a cardiac patient’s life.

Stephen burst into the room, clutching a tiny black and white plush puppy. The sight of her big hulking brother with a tiny cuddly toy brought a smile to her face.

“Angie, I’m so sorry about Raymond,” he said, apology evident in every facet of his being. “I never knew. Believe me, I never would have hired him if—”

“Ssh. I know you had nothing to do with this. How could you have known Raymond would try to hurt me?”

She clasped his hand, knowing he had no idea of Raymond’s intentions. While she never felt comfortable with the man, she hadn’t pegged him as a murderer. What she didn’t understand is why he felt the need to kill her?

“I brought you this.” Stephen offered her the stuffed animal. “Oreo says hi. She misses you.”

“At least one of us is out of the hospital.” She patted the toy and set it next to her. “How’s she doing?”

“Pretty good. She’s knocking things right and left with that tail of hers.”

She smiled, remembering how she did that at home. She longed to see her pet again. It had been too long.

“They shaved her where she took the bullet,” Stephen said. “She looks pretty pitiful.”

“I know the feeling,” Angie said, fingering the bandages on her arm. “The doctor says they might release me soon in Mom’s care.”

“That’s good news.” He shifted his weight and glanced toward the open door. “Listen Angie, I really feel bad about all that happened. I mean, I’m the one who said you didn’t know how to take care of yourself, and then I send this psycho guy to watch over you and—”

Angie reached over and tugged on his hand. “I know you thought you were doing what was right for me. After all, I’m still your kid sister.”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “After last night, you’ve proven you’re big enough to take care of yourself without interference from me.”

She knew his admission was difficult. Her chest swelled with respect for her brother, and for herself as well. She squeezed his hand.

“At least hospital security caught him,” she said. “We won’t have to worry about Raymond coming back to finish the job.” She shuddered, reliving last night’s attack. Her hand sought out the plush dog to distract her from the vivid memory. “What I don’t understand, though, is why he wanted to kill me in the first place? Why did he call me Miranda?”

“I can answer that,” her mother said from the doorway. She directed a sad smile toward Angie. “Five years ago, Miranda donated her heart for transplant.”

The significance of five years wasn’t lost on Angie. Five years ago, she’d received her new heart.

“Miranda was my donor,” Angie said slowly, making the connection. She half-expected her heart to give an extra thump in recognition of her identity, but the monitors continued their steady rhythm.

Her mother walked over to the window and pushed the curtains aside. A few lazy snowflakes in an otherwise overcast, depressing sky.

Angie watched her carefully. “How do you know?”

Her mother straightened the cards that had fallen on the windowsill before turning to face her. “I’ve been in contact with Miranda’s father for several years now.”

“You?” Shock and a faint sense of betrayal smacked Angie in the chest. “You never said anything.”

“Yes, I know. I never told you. I didn’t want to upset you as you were so adamant about not knowing about the donor.” She held her hand like a stop sign to stop the protest that quickly rose to Angie’s tongue. “Let me finish.”

Her arms braced across her chest as if the very act gave her strength. “In the weeks before your transplant, all those years ago, we didn’t know if a donor would be found in time. You were so sick, so sick.”

She moved toward the Angie’s side, picking up the puppy plush animal before sitting next to her daughter. Angie saw the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes and felt guilty that she was responsible.

“You were so pale and thin back then. Every breath was a struggle. Your lips and skin turned blue from the lack of oxygen.” Her mom took a deep breath and exhaled in a whispery rush. “I thought you were going to die.”

“We all did,” Stephen added.

“But I didn’t die. I’m still here.” Angie settled her arm around her mother’s huddled shoulders. Tears silently slipped down the older woman’s cheeks.

“I know that, dear, I know that.” She patted her daughter’s hand. “Back then I grieved for you as if you were already in a casket. Then God gave us a miracle.”

Angie retreated from comforting her mother. A cold ribbon of sorrow rippled at the reminder that someone had to die so that she could live. Her mother had always regarded this event as a wonderful miracle. But Angie knew it to be something else.

“I know you don’t like to think about the person who died.” Her mother swiped at her cheeks.

“It’s not that.” Angie shook her head. “I think about the person who died with every heartbeat. I’m grateful, but sad as well.”

“Miranda,” her mother said. “Her name was Miranda. I thought I knew what her parents must be going through, having been so very close to losing my own daughter.” She turned to look Angie straight in the eye. “When you didn’t write to them, I did. I had to tell them so they would know the joy they had brought our family. One letter led to another.”

“You wrote them?” Angie exclaimed, the betrayal tore at her defenses. Her mother knew she didn’t want to know about the donor. It made the sorrow too real, too personal.

Her mother nodded. “They’ve wanted to meet you for years. Perhaps now…”

“No.” Angie hugged the plush toy close. “I’m not their daughter.”

“They know that. But you do have her heart.” Her mother smiled warmly. Angie glanced at the beeping heart monitor, then focused her gaze on Stephen.

“Did you know about this?”

He nodded. “I knew Mom had contacted the donors, but I didn’t know the girl’s name until now.”

Angie studied their faces, realizing anew that her transplant affected more than just her, and more than just her family.

“I’ll think about meeting them,” she conceded. “But let me write to them first.”

Her mother’s smile spread across her face. Angie had to admit to sudden lightness of spirit herself. Why had she avoided this subject for so long? Still, another concern nagged at her. “I still don’t understand what Raymond has to do with Miranda?”

“Miranda was murdered,” her mother said. “She was stabbed and left for dead in a pile of snow by the edge of a road. A stranger found her, but it was too late to save her life. Fortunately, the cold temperatures slowed her body functions long enough to allow some of her organs to be harvested. You aren’t the only one to benefit from her family’s generosity.”

“And the killer?”

He was never found.”

Angie gasped. She could almost picture the scene in her mind: the dirt country road with a ditch alongside. The sky an intense blue-gray. Dried corn stalks poking up through the snow. Raymond’s face leering overhead. She shuddered, bringing her back to the conversation. “Raymond said she was pregnant.”

Her mother jerked as if shocked. “If she was, her parents never told me.” She looked to Stephen. “I wonder if they knew?”

“So Raymond was her killer,” Angie said. Somehow, it was all making sense.

“The police are exploring that possibility right now,” Stephen said. “They found a gun in Raymond’s apartment and they’re testing the bullets against the bullet removed from Pete Burroughs. Meanwhile they’re holding Raymond for attempted murder, criminal trespassing, and assault.” Stephen shook his head. “You know the guy had the nerve to ask me to post bail? I hope they put him away for a long, long time.”

“What happened to Burroughs and Wilson?” Angie asked. She’d forgotten about them in her hospital ordeal.

“Wilson is dead,” Stephen answered. “Shot in the back at the warehouse.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “When I stopped at the police station this morning, they mentioned Raymond might be tied into that murder as well as the attack on you. They’re holding Burroughs for fraud and attempted murder. Apparently, your audit threatened Burrough’s and Wilson’s cozy cash diversion scheme. You failed to heed their warnings.”

“Warnings?”

“Burroughs ratted on Wilson big-time. They’re the ones that shot Oreo, only the bullet was meant to scare you. Hank said—”

Suddenly, she felt faint as if all the blood had rushed from her head. She went still, very still, while she focused her full attention on Stephen. “Hank?” she asked carefully, hiding her inner turmoil. “You saw Hank?”

“Yeah, he was at the police station,” Stephen replied, sounding far too chipper. “He asked about you.”

Angie bit her lip, hoping the action hid her apprehension. Hank was at the police station? He could talk to the police but not to her? A cold lump formed in her ribcage. All hope that he cared about her melted away leaving her in despair.

Stephen frowned. “Actually, I’m surprised he hasn’t come by, you being in his employ and everything. After all, if it hadn’t been for the employees at his company, you wouldn’t—”

“That’s enough, Stephen.” Her mother abruptly stood. “Your sister needs her rest. Why don’t you wait for me in the hallway?”

Her brother, properly chastised, leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you later, sis.”

“Raymond…a murderer?” Angie sniffed. “Who would have thought? I never felt comfortable around him, but I never suspected… He sure fooled me.” Tears burned in her eyes. She’d been fooled by Hank as well. It had been weeks since she heard from him, not a visit, not a phone call, not even a card.

“Raymond fooled a lot of people. He was a master at deception,” Stephen said.

“Yeah, a master, her voice rasped.

The doctor was wrong about not feeling pain around her heart. She could feel it breaking in two. Now that his problem at Hayden was solved, Hank didn’t need her. He had his famous model. Why would he want an invalid?

“You rest now.” Her mother patted her hand. “I’ll be back later this afternoon. I want to go home and get your room ready. You’re coming home!”

Angie looked up through blurred vision. Even her old room would be a welcome relief after this place of late night needles and overly familiar probes. Being surrounded by a family that cared was better than being abandoned by a man who didn’t.

“Don’t worry, dear. It’ll only be temporary,” her mother added. “Give yourself some time to recuperate before you take on the world.”

After placing a quick kiss on her cheek, her mother slipped out the door before Angie comprehended the significance of her words. For the first time, her mother wasn’t insisting that Angela stay at home.

Still, that realization held little comfort now that her world had fallen apart. She curled into a tight little ball, pulled the hospital sheets high on her shoulders, and let the pillowcases soak up her tears.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Hank hesitated in the hospital corridor outside her room, considering his options behind an extravagant bouquet of dark red roses. He should have called first, inquired as to her recovery. The urge to call had entered his mind, at least a thousand times a day since he’d left. Yet each time he reached for his phone he’d stopped. He had too many words, too many emotions to express long-distance over cellular airwaves. Somehow time had gotten away from him. Some things needed be said face-to-face and now that he was about to say them, he hesitated. Maybe it would be best if he just turned tail and ran back the way he’d come.