Page 12 of Double Take

Three

Lainie shut the door on the patient with the broken nose, two black eyes, three cracked ribs, a broken wrist, and a fractured shin. The woman had refused to speak against the man who’d beaten her, but she’d listened to Lainie recount her own experience without moving.

For one brief moment, Lainie thought the victim might say something, but she’d simply taken a deep breath—as deep as one could take with broken ribs—and closed her eyes. Effectively shutting Lainie out.

Allison hurried toward her. “Tough one?”

“One of the toughest.” Lainie let her gaze roam the hall behind Allison, looking for the person she’d seen earlier.

“I’m sorry, Lainie.”

Lainie shrugged, not nearly as nonchalant as the gesture indicated. “I can only do what I can do.”He’s dead. Stopthinking about him.Her phone went off and she straightened. “Gunshot victim coming in.” Good, a distraction. Not good someone was shot, of course, but she desperately needed to keep busy, keep moving, and stop thinking.

Allison waved her phone. “Got it too. Let’s go.”

The surge of adrenaline energized her like nothing else could, and she shot toward the elevator with Allison on her heels. Her phone buzzed once more and she glanced at it while she jogged. “It’s a cop.”

“Oh boy,” Allison said. “But he’s alive?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s keep him that way.”

When they reached the ER entrance, the paramedics already had the man wheeled into a designated room with other officers trailing behind him.

“I’m fine.” His deep voice reached through the open door. “It got my vest and just knocked the breath out of me.”

Lainie gasped and pushed into the room. “James Cross?”

His dark brown eyes met hers and widened. “Lainie Jackson?” He blinked away his shock and shook off a nurse. “I’m fine. And don’t you dare call Stephanie or my parents.”

He didn’t want his sister or parents to know he was here? She narrowed her eyes at him, silently conveying her disagreement, but dipped her head acknowledging that she’d honor his wishes.

“Thanks.”

Allison stepped forward. “Hey, James, let us take a look, all right?”

Lainie held back. He didn’t look in danger of dying at the moment—and he probably didn’t want her treating him. “You got this?” she murmured to Allison. “I’m going to—”

“Dr. Lambe! Need you on a code! Room 6!”

So much for escaping. Lainie hurried to James’ side while Allison bolted from the room. She smiled at the sweaty, tight-jawed man on the gurney. His rugged good looks struck her as they always did when she was in his presence—which hadn’t been in years. He was in his early thirties and frowning ferociously at her while one hand raked through his spiked dark hair. His five o’clock shadow stood out in 3D against his pale face.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said.

The frown eased slightly. “I am, thanks. So no need for all this fuss.”

“I’m guessing your supervisor ordered you to come?” She hooked the stethoscope into her ears and lifted it in a silent ask for permission.

He sighed and jerked his head in a short nod.

She took it as an affirmative to both questions. “Then let’s get this out of the way so you can get out of here, okay?”

“Right. Yeah. Fine.”

“Thanks.” She noted his vitals and that his heart rate was slightly elevated, along with his blood pressure. All normal in his current situation, but they’d monitor it. “Can you lie on your stomach, please?”

He hesitated, then closed his eyes. “My back’s not pretty.”

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