Page 18 of Doctor Wolf's Human Nurse

He ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes briefly. “Dammit. I hate the idea that there is someone here I can’t trust. Thanks for letting me know.”

Abby nodded.

She and Jennifer had lunch together, and the two of them started talking about old injuries.

“I fell on an old floor furnace when I was a year old.” Abby held up her left hand. “I still have scars from it, on my hand, forehead, stomach, and other areas. It would have been a lot worse if our dog hadn’t pulled me off of it. Mom had just gone into the bathroom for a minute.”

“I didn’t know there were houses with those furnaces.”

“Actually, there are quite a few. There are a lot of very old houses in New Mexico.”

Jennifer nodded. “That makes sense. I guess my worst injury was when I broke my leg. I went roller skating with my best friend. She fell and I tripped over her. I tried to stand up and suffered a compound fracture in my tibia and fibula.”

Abby winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. There was a woman watching me. I told her to call 9-1-1 because I broke my leg. She just stood there and laughed at me. I sat on the floor for at least five minutes until the rink manager bothered to come see what was going on.”

“That sounds exceedingly painful.”

Jennifer rubbed her leg. “It was. I took a lot of oxycodone. I still have to take it once in a while when the weather shifts and the pressure changes. My leg hurts so much I can’t stand it.”

“I imagine so.”

Was she taking the drugs from the clinic to pay for her extra pain pills?

Abby hated to think that because she was fond of the woman. On the other hand, she really liked everyone who worked at the office.

After lunch, she caught Sawyer and pulled him into the supply closet.

“I feel like a snitch or a gossip, but I thought you should know that Jennifer told me that she still takes oxycodone because of residual pain from a compound tib-fib fracture.”

Sawyer patted her on the arm. “You’re only a gossip if you are repeating information maliciously.”

She tried to ignore the bolt of electricity that flowed through her at his touch. “What about being a snitch?”

He laughed. “You might qualify for that title, but if you want, we can call you a confidential informant.”

“I’m not so sure I like either title. Snitches end up dead in ditches. Confidential informants usually end up the same way.”

“At least this isn’t mob or gang-related, so you should be fine.”

Abby’s heart lurched. “We don’t know that.”

“Don’t worry. No one will know that you are telling me anything. I promise.”

“I hope not. I feel terrible about it.”

Sawyer looked at her sympathetically. “You’re not obligated to tell me anything if you aren’t comfortable.”

“But then, I would feel bad if I didn’t. Someone is stealing drugs from here and that would not only reflect badly on you, but also on me.”

Sawyer’s lips twitched. “The struggle is real.”

She growled at him, grabbed a couple packages of gauze, and left the room. He followed a minute later. Abby felt like they were a couple of lovers sneaking around, not wanting people to know they were involved. If only that was the case.

Later that afternoon, a mother came in with her nine-year-old son, Kyle.

“He’s had a lot of unexplainable bruises. I expect some, but not as many as he’s been getting. They pop up in weird places, too, such as right across his chest. He’s had several bloody noses. Kyle has also complained of headaches and he’s super pale. He’s been lethargic and says that he feels like his legs are giving out on him.” The woman gasped as though she was trying to hold back a sob. “He’s had some fevers a few times that went up to a hundred and four, accompanied by nausea and body aches.”

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