Suture Self (24 page)

A gasp went up from the crowd in the hallway. Hardened journalists they might be, but Blanche's statement wasn't what they'd expected. Judith gasped right along with them, then turned to Sister Jacqueline.

“Did you know this was coming?” she asked of the nun.

“Yes.” Sister Jacqueline kept staring straight ahead, in Blanche's direction.

“This,” Blanche continued, “is a very difficult time for those of us who have been associated with Good Cheer. We are all very grateful to the sisters who founded this hospital almost a century ago. Their dedication to physical, emotional, and spiritual health has been unparalleled in this region. Fortunately, the order still has hospitals in other cities, and will continue to administer Good Cheer's retirement and nursing homes.”

Blanche drew in a deep breath. “This is a sad day for us, but we are not without hope. The state of medicine in this country is pitiful, and universal health care has been only a dream for the past fifty-odd years. It's time to stop talking about it, and act. Therefore, I intend to run for Congress in the upcoming election. Health care will be the issue—my
only
issue. Thank you very much.”

Blanche stepped down amid more gasps from her audience. She moved quickly through the crowd to her husband's side. A few yards away, Dr. Garnett glared at the couple. Sister Jacqueline had bowed her head and appeared to be praying.

“Well.” Renie was fingering her chin and observing the reporters who were pressing in on the Van Boecks. Dr. Garnett had turned away and was coming down the hall toward the cousins. He stopped when he spotted Sister Jacqueline.

“Courage,” he said, touching the nun's arm. “You know that you and the other sisters share no blame in this disaster.” He nodded in the direction of the Van Boecks, who were trying to escape the media. “If there are villains other than governmental ineptitude, there they are.”

Sister Jacqueline gave Dr. Garnett a bleak look. “What's the use of blame? It's over.”

Dr. Garnett said nothing. He merely patted Sister Jacqueline's hand, offered her a small, tight smile, and walked away.

“Courage?” the nun echoed bitterly. “What good is courage? You can't fight the Devil when you can't see him.”

As Sister Jacqueline started to turn away, Judith called her name. “My condolences,” she said. “There are many of us in the community who will be sorry to see the Order of Good Cheer relinquish the hospital.”

“Thank you,” Sister Jacqueline replied, her voice devoid of life.

“A question,” Judith went on. “A very minor question. Do you know who brought Bob Randall the balloons and cutout of him in his playing days?”

“No,” the nun replied without interest. “Sister Julia at the front desk would know. She was on duty Monday night. Why do you ask?”

An embarrassed expression flitted across Judith's face. “Oh—ah, my cousin thought she recognized him as one of her children's old high school chums. How do I get in touch with Sister Julia?”

“You don't,” Sister Jacqueline replied. “She started making a private retreat in the convent Tuesday morning. Sister can't be reached until Sunday afternoon. It's a shame, since I wish I could tell her that not all of her prayers were answered.” Shoulders slumped, the nun left the cousins and headed for the stairwell.

As the Van Boecks disappeared around the corner at the far end of the hall, Renie reversed Judith's wheelchair and pushed her cousin back into their room. “Did Sister Julia volunteer for the retreat or did somebody give her an order—excuse the pun.”

“I think your imagination may be running away with
you,” Judith said. “I'm sure the retreat was Sister Julia's idea, but her isolation is inconvenient. And what did Sister Jacqueline mean by fighting the Devil?”

“Restoration Heartware?” Renie suggested as Corinne Appleby came into the room. “Or a certain individual?”

“Time for your shower,” Corinne announced with forced cheer. “Good, you're ready to go,” she added, indicating the wheelchair. “Shall we?”

Judith had no choice. Renie volunteered to go along and take her own shower. As they reentered the hall, the journalists were dispersing. Snatches of conversation could be heard as they passed down the hall toward the elevators.

“…Funny stuff going on around here…” “…Hey, I intend to keep my job…” “Congress, huh? Why not, she's no bigger windbag than they already…”

At the rear of the group, Judith spotted Mavis Lean-Brodie. She was standing outside Addison Kirby's room. “Kirby!” Judith heard Mavis exclaim as the KINE-TV anchorwoman saw the newspaper reporter's name posted by the door. Mavis galloped across the threshold and disappeared.

“What's going on?” Judith heard Mavis demand as Corinne pushed the wheelchair down the hall. “Are you a prisoner in this place or what?”

Judith hit the brake, catching Corinne off balance. The nurse almost fell over the top of the wheelchair. “Sorry,” Judith apologized, looking shamefaced. “Could we back up a bit?”

“What for?” Corinne asked, catching her breath.

“I just saw an old friend,” Judith said with a lame little smile. “I wanted to say hello.”

“If your friend has come to visit, whoever it is will
wait,” Corinne declared. “I have to keep to a schedule. I don't want to lose my job when this Cleveland bunch takes over. I have a mother to support, remember?”

Judith felt the wheelchair move forward at what seemed to be headlong speed. Unfortunately, Renie was up ahead. If she had seen Mavis, she hadn't bothered to stop. But Renie and Mavis didn't always get along. Maybe, Judith thought, her cousin had chosen to ignore the TV anchorwoman.

Once they reached the shower area, Corinne struck a more amiable attitude. “I'm sorry if I was rude,” she said as she helped Judith take off her hospital gown, “but this has been a very difficult day, what with this takeover and all. Plus, we've had some problems with the showers the last couple of days. Curly, our maintenance man, thinks one or two of the pipes may have frozen. In fact, the shower area has been off-limits until just a little while ago.”

“That's fine,” Judith murmured. “It's just that I'm so worried about my husband, and when I saw Mavis…my old friend…I thought she might be able to help me find out what's going on.”

“There's nothing to fret about,” Corinne said glibly as she turned on the taps and helped Judith into the shower. “I'll stand right outside. If you need help, just call.”

Judith regarded the steady stream of water with trepidation. “Are you sure this waterproof cover on the dressing will keep my wound dry?”

Corinne nodded. “That's why it's there. Just don't do anything to dislodge it.”

“Where's my cousin?” Judith asked, looking around at the other stalls as if she were searching for a lifeline.

A stream of curses exploded out of a shower stall across the aisle, answering Judith's question.

“My cousin hates showers,” Judith explained to a startled Corinne. “She never can manage the taps.”

“She manages quite well with her mouth,” Corinne noted with disapproval.

“Uh…yes,” Judith replied, maneuvering her way under the showerhead. Though she was unsteady, the rush of warm water felt wonderful. For a brief time, she submitted her body to a sense of total cleansing, as if her anxieties were flowing right down the drain. Confidence as well as strength seemed to grow within her. She vaguely heard Corinne say something about having to step outside for a moment. Then Judith found the shampoo and began to wash her hair.

“I'm done,” Renie announced grimly. “Are you okay?”

Judith peeked around the curtain. “Yes, I'm almost finished.”

Renie finished putting on her gown and robe. “I'll get Corinne to help you come out.”

Judith rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, then fumbled with the taps. She wasn't quite sure which way to turn them, but eventually figured it out before scalding herself. She shook herself as vigorously as possible, then reached for the towel that Corinne had left on a peg just outside the stall. Judith was awkwardly drying off when she heard a noise nearby.

“Coz?” she called, wielding the towel. “Coz?”

Renie didn't answer. Nor was there any response from Corinne. Puzzled, Judith rubbed at her wet hair, then wiped away the moisture that had gotten into her eyes. When she finished, she blinked several times to bring her vision into focus.

Then she screamed.

A man's hand appeared from the other side of the shower curtain and was reaching out to grab her.

As strong masculine fingers wrapped around her wrist, Judith screamed again.

“M
OM
! W
HAT
'
S WRONG
?”

Judith's mouth hung open as she gaped at her son. “Mike?” she gasped, squeaking out his name as if she were more mouse than mother.

“Didn't you hear me call to you from outside?” Mike asked, gallantly trying to avoid peering into the shower stall.

“Ah…No.” Judith swallowed hard, then did her best to wind the towel around her body. “The water was running.”

“Hang on to me,” Mike said, looking sheepish. “I'll help you out. Gee, I didn't mean to scare you.”

Judith gingerly stepped out of the stall. Her knees wobbled and she had to lean against her son. “Give me a minute to collect myself. This is the first time I've been able to take a—” She stopped, her heart suddenly in her mouth as she realized what Mike's arrival could portend. “Joe…” she said with difficulty. “Is he…?”

“He's doing okay,” Mike said. “I talked to him a few minutes ago.”

“Oh!” Relief swept over Judith. “You're sure? He really seemed to be on the mend?”

Before Mike could answer, Renie reappeared. “I
see you got your mother out in one piece,” Renie said. “It's a good thing—Corinne was called off to help some post-op patient.”

Judith stared at her cousin. “You knew Mike was here?”

Renie nodded. “I met him when I went to get Corinne. Aren't you tickled to see him?”

Judith started to laugh, a gust of relieved tension that verged on hysteria. Renie put an arm around her cousin. “Take it easy, I'll help you get dressed. Then we can talk.”

Ten minutes later, Judith was back in their room, where she gratefully let Mike help her get settled. “Now,” she said, finding the least painful position in the bed, “tell me about Joe and how you got here.”

“I saw the story on the news,” Mike explained after pulling Renie's visitor's chair over by Judith's bed so that both he and his aunt could sit down. “The snow had stopped up at the summit around midnight, and the highway crew started clearing the pass not long afterward. I'd called the hospital to ask about Joe, but they wouldn't tell me anything, even when I tried to get tough with them. What really bugged me was that they wouldn't put me through to you. They said it was too late. I guess it was, maybe twelve-thirty.”

“I can understand why they don't want to disturb patients that late,” Judith said, “but I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you.”

Mike shrugged his broad shoulders. “Not talking to you made up my mind—as soon as the roads were clear, I headed for the city. I've got four-wheel drive, chains, everything except skis on my forest service vehicle. When I arrived at the hospital, they wouldn't let me come up to the third floor. No visitors, they said at
the front desk, because of some dumb press conference. So,” Mike continued, lifting his hands, “I went to the fourth floor, to see how the other Flynn was doing.”

Judith smiled fondly at her son. “I'm so glad. I haven't seen Joe since they brought him in here. It's been terrible. How did he look?”

Mike laughed ruefully. “Like hell. And bitching like crazy. I guess he was in a pretty bad way, but the surgeon who worked on him was some kind of wizard.”

“Dr. Garnett?” Judith put in.

Mike shrugged. “Whoever. Anyway, they moved him out of intensive care last night.”

“We know,” Renie said dryly. “We thought he'd been kidnapped. Or worse.”

“What else did he say?” Judith asked eagerly. “Does he know who stabbed him?”

Mike shook his head. “I didn't want to wear him out, so we didn't talk much.” He paused, his gaze wandering around the room. Maybe, Judith thought, Mike was aware that since her marriage, he and Joe didn't ever talk much.

‘So,” Mike went on, “I left and came down to this floor. Whatever they were doing here was over by then, and I was able to see you. But you weren't in your room, and somebody told me they thought you'd gone to the shower.” He shrugged again. “That's where I went, and found Aunt Renie. I feel bad that I scared you.”

“It's been a scary kind of hospital stay,” Renie said. “You don't know the half of it.”

Mike looked unsettled. “Do I want to?”

“Probably not,” Judith said with an ironic smile. “It's a long story, and really doesn't have anything to do with us. I don't think.”

Mike eyed both Judith and Renie curiously. “What does
that
mean?” Mike asked.

Judith winced. “Nothing. Have you had lunch? It's almost noon. How are Kristin and little Mac? Will you take me to see Joe?”

Mike grinned at the onslaught of queries. “Kristin and Mac are great. I'll get some lunch in the cafeteria. I didn't have much breakfast this morning because I wanted to get an early start.” He hesitated and grew serious. “I don't know if I can take you to see Joe. I had to sort of sneak in to see him myself.”

“Why?” Judith demanded. “Is his condition still critical?”

“No,” Mike responded, “it's not that. It was more like a question of security or something. In fact, there was a cop outside the room. Officer Boxx, I think his name was.”

“Woody!” Judith grinned. “That must have been his doing, thank goodness. But Officer Boxx let you in when you identified yourself?”

“Not at first,” Mike replied. “I had to prove we were related, and having different last names didn't help, so I—”

Torchy Magee appeared in the doorway. “Mrs. Jones? I got a crazy question for you.” He glanced at Judith and Mike. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“What kind of crazy question?” Renie asked.

Torchy laughed. “I know Jones is a real common name, but all the same…This sounds stupid, but…”

“But what?” Renie was impatient.

“We've been clearing off the cars in the parking lot this morning,” Torchy explained. “We can't get into most of them, so we don't know who they all belong to. But this one car, a beige Toyota Camry, had a work
order from the dealership on the front seat that had the name Jones, William on it. Any relation?”

Renie was speechless.

 

After Renie got her keys out of her suitcase, she insisted that Torchy Magee take her to the parking lot. The security man wasn't happy with the idea.

“I want to make sure it's our car,” Renie insisted.

“Too risky,” Torchy argued. “The lot's real slippery. You might fall and hurt yourself. Let me take the keys. I can check the registration.”

“But is Cammy okay?” Renie demanded.

Torchy looked puzzled. “Cammy?”

“That's what we call our car, dammit,” Renie barked. “Has Cammy suffered any damage?”

“Not that I can see,” Torchy replied, bemused. “Come on, let me go check and save you a nasty accident.”

Renie relented. As soon as Torchy had left, she went to the phone and called Bill. Judith and Mike kept quiet while Renie spoke with one of her children.

“What do you mean, Anne? Your father went
where?
”

There was a long silence, then Renie shook her head. “I don't believe it. He'll freeze. He'll wear himself out. It must be four or five miles from our house to the hospital.” She paused, apparently for Anne to reply. “Okay, I'll try not to have a nervous breakdown. Thanks, and let me know if you hear from your father.”

Replacing the receiver, Renie stared at Judith and Mike. “Bill took off for the hospital about an hour or more ago. He decided to come in person to try to find out what was going on with Joe.”

“He's walking?” Judith said, incredulous.

Renie nodded. “The buses haven't started running again, and you know how Bill likes to walk. But it's a long, long trek and it's cold and the streets are slippery and…” She fell back against the pillows.

“Maybe,” Mike offered, “I could take my vehicle and try to figure out what route Uncle Bill would follow. Then I could meet him and give him a ride the rest of the way.”

“That's sweet, Mike,” Renie said, “but not very practical. I imagine a lot of the streets are still closed to traffic. Bill can walk anywhere he wants, but you'd never get through to collect him.”

Unusual noises in the hallway distracted the trio. Mike got up to find out what was happening.

“They're moving somebody into the room across the hall,” Mike said. “It looks as if whoever it is has just come from surgery.”

The cousins exchanged puzzled glances. “Mr. Mummy?” they chorused.

Mike moved farther into the hall. “Is that his real name?” he called over his shoulder.

“Yes,” Judith replied. “Don't you see it posted next to the door?”

Mike disappeared briefly. When he came back into the room, he shrugged. “There's nobody named Mummy—what a goofy name—listed outside the room. It's some other person—Randall, James. Does that sound familiar?”

 

Judith and Renie were dumbfounded. “What,” Judith asked, “happened to Jim Randall that he required surgery? I thought we heard somebody tell him he'd gotten good news. And where is Mr. Mummy?”

Renie simply shook her head. “This place keeps getting crazier. How the hell did our car end up in the parking lot at Good Cheer?”

Judith shot Renie a sharp look. “That may not be as crazy as it sounds.”

“What do you mean?” Renie demanded.

“Let me think,” Judith said, frowning. “I wish my brain wasn't still addled from that blasted anesthetic. If I could just put everything in logical order, I might be able to figure this out.”

“Figure what out, Mom?” Mike asked, looking bewildered. “Say, wasn't that football player who died named Randall, too?”

“Oh, Mike.” Judith's expression was pitying. “There's so much you don't know, that you don't need to know…Except,” she went on, suddenly looking panicked, “if Joe's in real danger. Can you go upstairs and stay with him?”

Mike was clearly perplexed. “Isn't that Officer Boxx's job?”

“Officer Boxx may have to go to the bathroom, get some lunch, whatever,” Judith said, still speaking rapidly. “I want you to go up to the fourth floor now and make sure Joe is okay. Will you do that?”

“Sure.” Mike stood up and gave his mother an off-center smile. “Why wouldn't I? After all, he's—”

Corinne Appleby entered the room, looking harried. “Sorry about the shower,” she said to Judith, then noticed Mike. “Oh—I didn't realize you had company.”

“I'm just leaving,” Mike said with a wave for Judith. “Relax, Mom. I've got it under control.”

Corinne's gaze followed Mike out of the room. “Is that your son?”

“Yes,” Judith said. “He's a forest ranger.”

“He's a nice-looking young man,” the nurse remarked. “I admire the color of his hair.” Corinne twirled one of her own red locks. “He must get it from his father.”

“Yes,” Judith said in a weak voice.
“Yes.”
She spoke emphatically the second time. “He gets his red hair from his father, Joe.” Judith shot a quick, exultant glance at Renie. “There,” she murmured as Corinne left the room, “I said it.”

“So you did,” Renie nodded with a smile. “But how does Corinne know about Joe's hair?”

Judith sucked in a startled breath. “You're right—when did she see Joe? More to the point,
why
did she see Joe? There may be a logical explanation, but my logic seems to have stalled since the surgery.”

“Which means you can't figure out why Jim Randall is across the hall,” Renie noted as she got out of bed. “I'm going to take a peek.”

It was a temptation for Judith to join her cousin, but she decided it would take too long to get into the wheelchair by herself. Almost five minutes passed before Renie returned.

“I was getting worried about you,” Judith said. “What's up with Jim Randall?”

“That's what I was finding out,” Renie replied, looking a bit rattled. “That helicopter—it was for Jim, bringing him new corneas for a transplant.”

“Oh!” Judith was astounded. “But…that's wonderful!”

“For him,” Renie replied, sitting down in the wheelchair. “I guess you don't have to be stone blind to receive a transplant.”

“What happened to Mr. Mummy?” Judith asked. “Did they move him to another room?”

“No,” Renie answered slowly. “Mr. Mummy was officially discharged late last night.”

 

Judith didn't say anything for at least a full minute. “I wish I could figure out what Mr. Mummy was doing here. I'm convinced he wasn't a real patient. And why did Sister Jacqueline have that late-night closed-door meeting with him?”

“He certainly was snoopy,” Renie remarked.

“Yes.” Judith's voice held a curious note. “He seemed driven to find out every little thing that went on in this hospital. Remember how he interrogated us—politely—about Blanche stopping by our room and some of the other seemingly small incidents. He tried to do the same thing with Addison Kirby. Mr. Mummy didn't want to miss a trick. To what end, I wonder?”

“A spy?” Renie suggested.

Judith frowned. “Maybe. Industrial espionage.”

Renie uttered an ironic laugh. “They call it keeping abreast. And it wouldn't be industrial espionage in this situation. That is, nobody wants to steal trade secrets from Good Cheer. Hospitals aren't creative institutions, like chemical or munitions companies.”

“Maybe,” Judith said, “Mr. Mummy was spying for Restoration Heartware.”

“He might have been spying for Good Cheer,” Renie offered. “He had to have the approval of the hospital administration. How else could he get himself in here with a fake injury?”

Judith was pondering the question when the phone rang. It was Arlene, and she was highly agitated. “I hope there's room for me in that hospital when I have a nervous breakdown in the next ten minutes,” she an
nounced in a voice that shook. “Do you have any idea how worried I've been about Joe?”