Million Dollar Baby. Lisa JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
sensation as she recognized the distinctive whine of Nurse Lindquist’s voice. No doubt she’d called security and was going to have Chandra thrown off the hospital grounds. Footsteps clattered down the hall. Chandra glanced back to O’Rourke, whom she suddenly viewed as her savior, but he’d already disappeared around the corner at the far end of the corridor. As she looked in the other direction, she found the huge nurse, flanked by two deputies from the Sheriff’s Department, moving with surprising speed toward her. Chandra’s hand froze on the elevator’s Door Open button, although her every instinct told her to flee.
One of the deputies, the shorter one with a flat face and salt-and-pepper hair, was staring straight at her. He didn’t bother with a smile. “Chandra Hill?”
“Yes?”
He stiff-armed the elevator, holding the doors open, as if to ensure that she wouldn’t escape. “I’m Deputy Bodine, and this is Deputy White.” He motioned with his head toward the other man in uniform. “If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you a few questions about the child you found on your property.”
“SO I FOLLOWED the ambulance here,” Chandra said, finishing her story as the two officers listened, alternately exchanging glances and sipping their coffee as she explained how she discovered the abandoned child.
Deputy Stan Bodine, the man who was asking the questions, slid his cafeteria chair closer to the table. “And you have no idea who the mother might be?”
“Not a clue,” Chandra replied, tired of repeatedly answering the same questions. “I know it’s strange, but that’s what happened. Someone just left the baby in my barn.” What was it about everyone in the hospital? Why were they so damned disbelieving? Aware of the curious glances cast her way by a few members of the staff who had come down to the cafeteria for their breaks, Chandra leaned across the table and met the deputy’s direct gaze. “Why would I lie?”
“We didn’t say—”
“I know, but I can tell you don’t believe me.”
Deputy White, the younger of the two, stopped writing in his notepad. With thin blond hair, narrow features and a slight build, he wasn’t the least bit intimidating. In fact, he seemed almost friendly. Here, at least, was one man who seemed to trust that she was telling the truth.
Deputy Bodine was another story. As bulky as the younger man was slim, Bodine carried with him a cynical attitude honed by years with the Sheriff’s Department. His expression was cautiously neutral, but suspicion radiated from him in invisible waves. As he swilled the bitter coffee and chewed on a day-old Danish he’d purchased at the counter, Chandra squirmed in her chair.
“No one said we didn’t believe you,” Bodine answered patiently. “But it’s kind of an outrageous story, don’t you think?”
“It’s the truth.”
“And we’ve seen lots of cases where someone has… changed the facts a little to protect someone.”
“I’m not protecting anyone!” Chandra’s patience hung by a fragile thread. She’d brought the baby to the hospital to get the poor child medical attention, and this cynic from the Sheriff’s Department, as well as the good Dr. O’Rourke, were acting as if she were some kind of criminal. Only Deputy White seemed to trust her. “Look, if you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to check out all my acquaintances and relatives. I just found the baby. That’s all. Someone apparently left him in the barn. I don’t know why. There was no trace of the mother—or anyone else for that matter.” To keep her hands busy, she rolled her cup in her fingers, and a thought struck her. “The only clue as to who the child might be could come from his swaddling. He was wrapped in a blanket—not the one I brought him here in—and an old army jacket.”
Bodine perked up a bit. “Where’s the jacket?”
“Back at my cabin.”
“We’ll pick it up in the morning. And don’t disturb anything in that stall where you found the kid…or the rest of the barn for that matter.” He took another bite of his Danish and washed it down with a swallow of coffee. Several crumbs fell onto the white table. He crumpled his cup. Without getting up from his chair, he tossed the wadded cup high into the air and watched as it bounced off the rim of a trash container.
The younger man clucked his tongue and tucked his notepad into his pocket. “I don’t think the Nuggets will be drafting you this season,” he joked. He shoved out his chair and picked up the discarded cup to arc it perfectly into the trash can.
“Lucky shot,” Bodine grumbled.
Chandra was just grateful they were leaving. As Bodine scraped his chair back, Dr. O’Rourke strode into the room. He was as rumpled as before, though obviously his shift was over. His lab coat was missing, and he was wearing worn jeans, an off-white flannel shirt and a sheepskin jacket.
“Just the man we wanted to see,” Bodine said, settling back in his chair. Chandra’s hopes died. She wanted this interrogation over with.
“So I heard.” O’Rourke paid for a cup of coffee and joined the group. “Nurse Pratt said you needed some information on Baby Doe. I’ve left a copy of the admittance forms at the E.R. desk, and I’ll send you a complete physical description of the child, as well as that of his condition, as soon as it’s transcribed, probably by the afternoon. I can mail it or—”
“We’ll pick it up,” Bodine cut in, kicking back his chair a little so that he could view both Chandra and O’Rourke in one glance. “Save us all some time. Anything specific we should know right now?”
“Just that the baby is jaundiced, with a swelling on the right side of his head, probably from a difficult birth. Other than that, he looks pretty healthy. We’re keeping him isolated, and we’re still running tests, but he’s eating and giving all the nurses a bad time.”
Chandra swallowed a smile. So O’Rourke did have a sense of humor after all.
The doctor continued. “A pediatrician will examine him as soon as he gets here, and we’ll give you a full report.”
“Anything else?” White asked, scribbling quickly in his notepad again. He was standing now, but writing as quickly as before.
“Just one thing,” O’Rourke replied, his gaze sliding to Chandra before returning to the two deputies. “The umbilical cord wasn’t severed neatly or clamped properly.”
Bodine dusted his hands. “Meaning?”
“Meaning that the baby probably wasn’t born in a hospital. I’d guess that the child was delivered without any medical expertise at all. The mother probably just went into labor about three days ago, experienced some difficulty, and when the baby finally arrived, used a pair of scissors or a dull knife to cut the cord.”
Chandra sucked in her breath and O’Rourke’s gaze swung to her. She cringed at the thought of the baby being born in anything less than sterile surroundings, though, of course, she knew it happened often enough.
“What do you think?” O’Rourke asked, blue eyes drilling into hers.
“I don’t know. I didn’t really look at the cord, only to see that it wasn’t bleeding.” Why would he ask her opinion?
“You examined the infant, didn’t you?”
Chandra’s response died on her tongue. Dr. O’Rourke didn’t know anything about her, she assumed, especially her past, and she intended to keep it that way. She’d come to this part of the country for the express purpose of burying her past, and she wasn’t about to unearth it now. She fiddled with her coffee cup. “Yes, I examined him.”
“And you were right on with your diagnosis.”
No