But, Dad, I’m not righteous, she said sadly. Look what I’ve done.
“Your righteousness has been purchased. It’s time to come home.”
But my baby…
“Dr. Bower, I’ve lost the pulse,” came a brisk voice from nearby.
The wall of pain slipped down and pulled away. Marla felt as if a blanket of comfort were being wrapped around her. She could see again. Her father was holding out his hand.
“No blood pressure,” came another voice, this one receding, growing fainter. “Doctor, we’ve got asystole…flat line!”
But the alarm in the fading voices did not disturb her. Dad spoke again. “I have some people for you to meet.” And he took her in his arms and led her home.
Lukas called the code long after they lost the pulse and the rhythm flattened, battling his own sense of horror and pain as he’d battled to keep death from taking this young mother. He called time of death for the record, then took a deep breath and willed himself to be composed.
Sandra sniffed with silent tears as she gathered the trash that had collected on the floor. Tex muttered under her breath as she disconnected the monitor from the leads. She paused and glanced at Quinn, her green cat’s eyes narrowed with angry disgust. She shook her head and resumed her work.
“What’s your problem, Texas, can’t take the pressure?” Quinn reached over to remove the equipment from the body of the deceased. “No wonder you couldn’t handle your resident training.”
“No!” Lukas reached out to stop Quinn’s movements. “Don’t touch anything on her.”
Quinn raised his hands in an exaggerated show of obedience. “Hey, Doc, lighten up. I’m just trying to help out. After all, she was alive until we brought her to you. ”
Sandra gasped and looked over at her partner.
Tex shoved some trash into a biohazard container and straightened to tower over the man. “Breathing into her belly all the way here was what killed her. We might have saved her if you’d given her a chance in the first place, but no, you didn’t even bother to check.”
“Tex.” Lukas was too tired and grief-stricken to break up any more fights on this shift. “Quinn, everything has to stay in place in case the coroner wants to have an autopsy performed. Tex, will you go call him?” Maybe that would get her away from Quinn long enough to get her temper under control. To see that she did so, he walked out with her.
“That man shouldn’t be allowed to touch patients,” she muttered to him as they left the curtained room.
Lukas shushed her. Her voice carried past the thin barrier of curtain like the growl of an angry crocodile. Even though he agreed with her, he had to look at both sides. “You know an intubation like that can be difficult. Even the most skilled practitioner could have missed it under those circumstances.”
“Yeah, but I’d’ve at least checked her breathing. Couldn’t you tell by Quinn’s expression that he hadn’t?” She lowered her voice at last to a hoarse whisper. “I’m going to talk to Sandra later. That girl’s scared of her own shadow, but maybe I can bully her into telling the truth. Quinn’s incompetent. It’s probably because he works too many hours, but that doesn’t excuse his disregard for human life. They need to get rid of him.”
“And who would they find to replace him?” Lukas asked dryly.
She grimaced. “Good question. The hospital doesn’t want to pay anything. That’s why we’ve got a bunch of losers here already.”
“And where does that put you and me?”
She didn’t even blink. “You’re here to keep busy until the E.R. is rebuilt in Knolls.”
“And why are you here?” Lukas asked. “You’re no loser. I’ve seen you work. You know your stuff. I couldn’t help picking up on Quinn’s reference. Are you a resident?” He studied her more closely and saw the sudden tightening of her lips, the hooding of her eyes.
She looked away. “I’m a paramedic right now, Dr. Bower. I’m here because this is home…or it was.” She sighed. “The guy you’re replacing? Dr. Moss? He thought he was coming here for a break from family practice. Ha! Now he’s on suspension here and his license is in question, and it’s not even his fault. You’d better look over you shoulder around here. No telling who’ll try to stab you in the back.” She glared in Quinn’s direction and walked off to use the phone at the nurses’ desk.
Carmen swiveled in her chair to face Lukas. “Dr. Bower, a friend of mine from the police department just called. They didn’t find any baby, but they called the landlord of the building where the woman was living. He’d gotten complaints from the neighbors for the past two or three days about a baby crying.”
“Did he say how many people lived in that apartment with her?”
“Just the woman. Last time he saw her she was pregnant, and that was last week, when he dropped by to try to get rent payment from her, which he didn’t get. Looks like she was broke, and the room was a mess, like she’d been sick for a while. The baby was obviously a newborn.”
“Did they give you a name?”
“Said the woman was Marla Moore. She stayed inside a lot. I guess the landlord’ll have to come down and make identification or something. The police haven’t found any relatives yet.”
“But the baby,” Lukas said, “what about the baby?”
Carmen shrugged. “If it’s a newborn, it couldn’t’ve crawled off. Somebody’s got to be taking care of that baby.” The telephone buzzed again, and she turned back to the desk.
“Hey, Dr. Bower?” came a quiet male voice from behind him.
Lukas turned to find Quinn standing there, head bowed, arms folded across his chest. “I shouldn’t have given you such a hard time in there. I guess I was pretty nervous.”
“You don’t walk out on a code, Quinn. We needed you. Where did you go?”
“I…I’m sorry. I nearly lost my cool for a little bit. I mean, we were fighting for a young mother’s life, and Tex made it sound like I’d really blown it.” He shot a quick glance toward Carmen and Tex, who were both on the telephone at their desks. “What are you going to put on your report?”
“What do you mean?”
Quinn shrugged. “I need this job bad, and I can’t afford to lose it. What are you going to say about me?”
Lukas felt the fresh weight of grief sharpen his tongue. “The truth usually works.” He turned away and left Quinn standing there.
He went into the call room for a moment. He had reports to fill out, work to do, but he knew from experience that if there were no other patients who needed him, it was best to spend some quiet time after a painful event like this one. If there was any time he needed prayer more…
And then he realized something. During that whole code, in all the confusion and angry words and difficult decisions, he’d forgotten the most important thing. A habit that he’d developed in his first E.R. rotations years ago was to pray on the run while treating victims of severe illness or trauma. Praying had become second nature for him; he did it without thinking. But this time…this time he’d been caught off guard. He’d allowed his anger at Quinn to divert him from the most important treatment.
“Forgive me, Lord.” He covered his face with his hands. He knew God didn’t need his permission to save a life or to guide the hands and minds of the staff when they were working with patients. Still, he had no doubt that prayer was an energizing touch, a powerful connection between God and the caregivers. Yes, prayer operated on a spiritual level, but weren’t human beings as much spirit as body?
And what if Marla Moore