Killer Career (11 page)

Julie was almost in front of the Thompson Building, when her cell
phone rang.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you know where Dade is,” Pam,
the receptionist asked.

“He didn’t say anything to me. What’s the problem?”

“Mr. Burns says Dade was supposed to meet him an hour ago at the
Commission about an offer, but he hasn’t shown up. I can’t reach
him on his cell.”

“The client may have gotten the date wrong. Dade’s good at
remembering appointments. Just in case, I’ll look around for him
inside. If I see him, I’ll let you know. Don’t worry, he’ll
show up.”

As she replaced the phone in her purse, she smilingly admired the
play of sunlight across the glass panes of the octagonal architecture
of the James R. Thompson Center, which housed the Illinois Workers’
Compensation Commission. On such a gorgeous July day, nothing could
go wrong. Sure, she had tons of work and it might take a while to
follow her dream, but she’d survive.

Another good thing was her dizzy spells had vanished. They’d
probably been caused by overwork. That situation wouldn’t last
forever. Her goal was within reach.

She just knew she’d win all of her cases today.

Stop woolgathering
, she told herself, using a favorite phrase
of her mother’s.

Upstairs on the eighth floor, she glanced around for Dade but didn’t
see him. Just in case he turned up, she left a message with the
receptionist for him to call the office. She called Pam back and told
her what she’d done. After that, she gathered her client, Danny
Devers, out of the waiting room. “Let’s go get ‘em,” she
said.

He flashed her a timid smile.

“Don’t be nervous. Just tell the truth.”

The man had a good case. They’d get through in no time.

Her prediction proved correct. It wasn’t long before Julie
smilingly sent her client on his way. She sailed through the next
case as well, then strolled across the concourse to look for Dade.
She didn’t see him in the hallway, meeting rooms or the downstairs
eating area where the attorneys often met to hash over cases. He must
have already gone back to the office.

She may as well head back too. When she saw him, she’d learn soon
enough how the mix-up had occurred.

As soon as Julie stepped into the office, Pam’s frantic voice
greeted her. “You didn’t see Dade at all at the Commission?”

“No. You mean he still hasn’t called?”

Pam shook her head. “He never did. I don’t know where he is. The
phones are going crazy. What do I tell the clients?”

“Just say he’s at an emergency trial and will get back to them.”

Julie frowned. A strange uneasiness gripped her, making her terrific
mood evaporate. Dade was meticulous about advising the office of his
whereabouts. Something was wrong.

Her steps quickened. Even before she reached her desk, she grabbed
her cell phone from her purse and punched the quick dial. “Be
there,” she said.

It didn’t even ring. Strange. If the telephone were out of range,
at least his voice mail should kick in. Maybe his phone was broken.

Or maybe his mom was sick and he had to rush her to the hospital and
didn’t have time to call. No, it couldn’t be that. Marcia and
Avery had gone to Wisconsin. They wouldn’t be back for a week.

Now what to do? Julie glanced at her watch. It was past one. Maybe
she was being an alarmist, but she couldn’t help it. What if Dade
had fallen and banged his head in the shower this morning. His life’s
blood could be flowing out of him while he hung on, hoping to be
rescued. God forbid, it might already be too late.

She called the operator and asked for his condominium’s office.
Once she was connected, she requested a well being check. Ten minutes
of pacing passed. Julie was about to dial back when Dee’s voice
rang over the intercom, “There’s a Linda, from Dade’s building
on line nine.”

Julie snatched up the receiver. “Is he all right?”

“I’m sorry,” the woman said. “No one’s there. We searched
the entire condo.”

“Thanks so much for your trouble.” Not knowing if she should be
relieved or upset, she slowly hung up.

Where was he? Had he been in an auto accident? Though his condo was
only three miles away, Loop traffic was a nightmare. All it could
take was one careless driver.

To reassure herself, she glanced out the window at the cloudless
aquamarine sky. It was a stunning summer day. The streets were dry.
Dade was an excellent driver.

No matter how she tried to reassure herself, a knot kept growing in
her stomach, making her feel nauseous. Something was wrong.

She punched Dade’s cell phone number again, only to hear the same
dead tone.

Pam’s voice cut in, “Julie, there’s a Lieutenant Pruchnicky on
line three.”

Julie’s heart skittered. She stared at the telephone as if it were
a rattlesnake.
Please don’t let it be about Dade. God, please
let him be all right.

* * *

“Hello, Ms. McGuire speaking.”

“Lieutenant Pruchnicky here, Chicago Police. One of my men found
your business card on an accident victim, one Dade Donovan.”

Julie’s lungs constricted and she could barely breathe. She wanted
to cover her ears to block the officer’s next words, but she had to
know.

“He’s my partner. How is he?” she choked out.

“In critical condition at Northwestern Memorial. Can you contact
the family?”

“They’re out of town. It’ll take at least six hours for them to
get back. Listen, I’ll be right over.”

She threw the receiver down, not looking to see if it landed on the
cradle. Dade was hurt. He needed her.

Darting past Pam, she called back, “Cancel my appointments, and
Dade’s too. He’s in the hospital.”

The receptionist’s mouth gaped. Julie had no time to fill her in.
She had to get to Dade. She barely noticed she was riding in an
elevator as it sped to the lobby. Her legs shook, but she forced them
to move around the block to the parking garage. The process took
forever.

Her hands trembled as she turned the key in the ignition. Pulling
onto Monroe Street, she grasped the steering wheel as if it were a
lifeline.

Dade couldn’t die. He had to be all right.

The sunshiny July day mocked her concern.

* * *

Julie spied a clerk seated behind the desk at the patient’s
entrance. “Where’s critical care?”

“Fifth floor. You can take those elevators.” The woman pointed
to a bank on the right.

Julie rushed into the elevator as soon as it stopped. An excited
father, grasping his son with one hand and a stuffed giraffe with the
other, joined her.

“When’s Bobby coming home? I want to play with him,” the boy
asked.

“Maybe tonight, but he’s too small to play with yet. You’ll
have to wait until he gets bigger or you might hurt him.”

The boy nodded solemnly then turned his attention to Julie. “Do you
have a baby here, too?”

Wishing she were here for a happy occasion, Julie blinked back sudden
tears. “No, I don’t.”

The elevator stopped. The two exited on the fourth floor. At seven,
it was Julie’s turn.

With heart pounding, she rushed blindly down the still hall, past a
waiting room with a man and a woman seated on a couch.

Behind a concave desk, a nurse entered data into a computer, another
one spoke on the phone, while a third scribbled notes on a writing
pad.

“Is Dade Donovan here? How is he?”

The nurse who was writing the notes looked up. “Are you related?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry. Only relatives,” she said, turning back to her
paper.

“I’m his fiancé. I have to see him.”

The nurse threw her a sharp look. Julie tried to look innocent and
sincere.

Dade would laugh when he heard what she’d said. She’d love to
hear that laugh.

“He’s in Three B,” the nurse said, relenting. “Dr.
Patterson’s with him.”

* * *

The man lying still, with the bandaged head and purple and blue face,
couldn’t be Dade. He was always busy. He’d not be caught dead
lying around like this.

At sight of the oxygen tube, the IV flowing into Dade’s arm and the
splint on the other one, an almost physical pain swelled in Julie’s
throat, threatening to choke her.

The doctor stood over the bed and shone a light into Dade’s eyes. A
machine beeped. A nurse scurried to refill the IV solution.

“Will he be all right,” Julie asked the doctor.

He turned momentarily from his patient.

“That depends. It’s been four hours since he was wheeled in and
he’s still in a coma. The longer he’s under, the heavier the risk
to his brain, heart and lungs. At this point it’s crucial he wake
up. His injuries also include a lung bruise, a broken right hand,
multiple right leg fractures and possible internal injuries. His
blood pressure is elevated.”

Julie’s eyes filled and she blinked rapidly. What if Dade didn’t
make it? She couldn’t imagine a world without him. He couldn’t
be gone forever.

“Can I speak to him? Maybe a familiar voice would help.”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” the doctor said, then turned toward the
door. “I’ll be back later to check on him.”

How could he abandon Dade? Anything could happen. Of course, other
patients needed the doctor, but still, she wanted him here every
minute just in case.

She’d stay. Dade would not be left alone, no matter how long it
took. He had to get better. She’d see to it.

Julie leaned over the bed. The cold railing dug into her abdomen, but
she ignored it. Careful not to disturb the IV hose carrying the
precious fluids to Dade’s ravaged body, she lightly pressed his
right hand.

“Dade, it’s Julie. Can you hear me?”

He lay unmoving.

Julie bit her lip. She’d almost expected him to speak, as if
nothing had happened. It was unnerving to see him so unresponsive

She wouldn’t give up.

“Dade, please, I’m worried. Can you hear me? If it’s too hard
to talk, can you move your finger or a toe?”

Nothing. Julie fought back hot tears. Could he hear her? Could he
tell what she was saying? She had to reach him somehow.

Somewhere, deep inside of his brain, did he even register what she
was saying? She had to bring him back. A past memory might help.

Her mind went blank. All she could think of was Dade lying still
forever, never waking up. What could she say to make a difference?

A bittersweet smile escaped her. If he were functioning at all, he’d
remember this.

“Dade, remember the day my parents died in the plane crash? Avery
tried to make me feel better, but it was you who really helped. You
took out your handkerchief, wiped my tears and said, ‘Julie, you’re
a Donovan now. We’ll be there for you, no matter what.’”

She choked back a sob. “Dade, don’t break your promise. You’ve
got to come back. You’re a part of me.”

It tore at her to see him like this. And the worst wasn’t over.
Taking a shaky breath, she reached for the phone by the bed. Avery’s
cheerful voice answered.

God, she hated to destroy her friend’s happiness.

“Avery, I had to call. Something terrible has happened. Dade was in
an accident. He’s in a coma at Northwestern Memorial. You and
Marcia need to get here. Promise you’ll drive carefully.”

“We’re on our way,” Avery answered, the life drained from her
voice.

Chapter Thirteen

With chest crushed and head pounding, Dade swam through the murky
waters. He had to reach Julie. She needed him.

Her fresh floral scent filled his nostrils. Her stifled sobs
penetrated his ears. Someone was hurting her. He had to protect her.
It was his job.

With his last ounce of willpower, Dade commanded his eyelids to open.
They refused to obey, but he would not give up. He’d keep trying
until they did.

When he finally did manage to pry his lids open, he was greeted by a
blurry white world.

A band of searing pain flashed across his forehead, stealing his
breath and making his stomach turn. Every part of his body clamored
for attention, but he had only one focus: Julie. Where was she?

He skimmed the area until he caught sight of her standing to the
left. Her eyes were puffy and red. Who was hurting her? He’d
promised to take care of her and he would. Dade forced his lips to
move. “Don’tttt crrry, JJJJulie.”

“Oh my God, Dade. You’ve done it. You’re awake.”

Of course. What was the big deal?

He watched in amazement as she reached over the side of the bed and
pressed the call button.

“You have no idea how scared I was,” she said.

Before he could begin to form a response, a nurse and a doctor rushed
in. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Julie leave the room.

Who’d guess that a tiny bright light could hurt like a cleaver
slicing his brain?

The doctor poked and prodded, then asked, “What’s your name?”

Dade had to think about that one, but it came to him. The doctor shot
off more questions, asking for his address and age. It took a while
to figure out what to say, but he managed. When he spoke, his voice
sounded weak and hoarse. Still, the doctor smiled, apparently
pleased.

“Do you remember what happened today,” the doctor asked.

Dade tried to think, but pain sliced his forehead. A fog filled his
mind. Try as he might, he couldn’t penetrate it. How and why had he
gotten here? A vague uneasy feeling filtered in. He was forgetting
something important.

“That’s all right. We’ll take it slow. Maybe it’ll come to
you later. In the meantime, why don’t I send your friend back in?”

Julie reentered. Dade flashed a wan smile.

As if Dade were not there, the doctor turned to Julie. “Let’s
work on the memory a bit. See what you can do to help him remember.”