Page 34 of Pierre
“Oh, oh. What now?”
“A man who came in with the others claimed he was in extreme pain. Jane and I both deduced that it was nothing, but he insisted. At first, I thought it might be internal injuries. He kept asking for pain meds.”
“That’s not unusual,” said Marjorie. “Drug use is rampant here.”
“Yes, we know,” said Jane. “The man was looking for the lady with the drugs. He was talking about Judy. We didn’t want you to worry about it with everything going on, so we did the inventory for you.”
“Oh, shit,” whispered Marjorie, swallowing. “What did you find?”
“It will be no surprise,” said Doc. “You’ve got missing vials of morphine, codeine, and other pain relievers. It doesn’t match what was entered in the computer for patients. We think she was selling vials to them.”
“Damn,” muttered Marjorie, shaking her head. Her hands were shaking, her face pale. “Damn, damn, damn!”
“Marjorie, we’ve spoken to the chief medical officer. He has to report it, but he knows it’s not your fault,” said Jane.
“The Navy won’t see it that way. I’m in charge of the nurses. What they do is my responsibility. I didn’t see it. I didn’t stop it,” she said in a shaky voice. “I knew she was trouble, but when she was working, she was a good nurse. I needed the help, but at what cost?”
“Marjorie, it’s not your fault,” said Ambry, holding her hand.
“She’s right,” said Commander Patterson. “It’s not your fault, but it did happen on your watch. I’ll file a report, Marjorie, but all of these people have vowed to come to your defense. Including me.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Come on. Let’s get some dinner, honey,” said Ambry. “There’s nothing we can do about this right now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The walk through the mountains wasn’t the worst the men had ever been on, but it was definitely difficult and unique. Scattered amongst wildflowers, trails, and scenic vistas were mounds of trash. Old washing machines, dryers, tires, and other debris littered the sides of the mountain trail.
“Jesus, this is terrible,” said Butch.
“People who claimed they would haul trash to dumps ended up hauling it up here on mules. They intended to toss it into the volcano and then noticed that wasn’t a smart idea,” said Henri. “In their infinite wisdom, they left it here. It’s a disgrace.”
“It sucks,” nodded Butch. “But you’re not alone. There are places in America that look very much like this. It’s horrible, and people just don’t appreciate what they have, the beauty of it all.”
“There,” said Henri, pointing up ahead. “That’s St. Mary’s.”
Pierre stopped, staring at the church up on the hill ahead. Frank, Butch, Ham, Tucker, and Winslow stared at the building, then back at one another. The contrast was not lost on them.
The massive church was spread out over the landscape, a small house to the left. The pristine white exterior seemed out of place against the landscape, its golden statue of Mary sitting above the door, above it, a golden cross.
“One of these things is not like the other,” frowned Frank.
Two men exited the church, both holding rifles in the air in a non-threatening pose, but the intent was not lost on the men.
“We mean you no harm,” said Henri. “We’re looking for Sister Josephina.”
“She’s away,” said one of the men.
“May we wait?” asked Pierre. “It’s important that we speak with her.”
The two men conferred with one another, then nodded, pointing to the side of the church where they could make their camp. Ham stepped forward.
“If you don’t mind, we’d like to pray, thank God for our safe arrival,” he said. Again, the men appeared skeptical but nodded.
The team followed Ham inside and saw what they expected. Soldiers. Or at least their version of soldiers seated along the walls, rifles in their laps. The team knelt at the pews, giving thanks as they had said, but also taking in every detail of the church.
There were golden statues lining the alcoves of the walls, just below the detailed stained-glass windows. At the altar, the table was carved of fine wood, covered in an ivory and gold cloth.
