“She’ll know. Just give her the message.”
He’d better not find out Eden had been bribing his techs for information again.
“Detective Delaney?” A lanky middle-aged man in scrubs and a white coat headed toward him, the dark circles under his eyes made more pronounced by the thin wire-rim glasses. “I’m Dr. Collins. The nurse at the desk said I should talk to you about Ms. St. Claire before I examine her?”
Cole pocketed his phone and shook the doctor’s hand. “I need to be in there when you examine her.”
“Are you a family—”
“I have her medical power of attorney.” Cole recited his argument from memory. “You don’t have her file here, but suffice it to say she has a severe phobia when it comes to hospitals, and, no offense, to doctors.” The fact Eden held no control over her fear had been a topic of late-night conversation on more than one occasion. “I’m not talking issues, mind you. I’m talking full-blown panic attacks. You want me there if you want her coherent and amenable to your exam.”
“O—kay.” Dr. Collins’s grimace did little to reassure Cole that the physician understood the situation. “Has she considered therapy—”
“Preaching to the choir, Doc.” Cole gave a slow shake of his head. “Been there, tried everything. As long as there’s someone she trusts in the room, she pushes through. All the same, the sooner you get this over with, the better.” He made a beeline for Eden, much to the frustration of the nurses in her room. “Eden?” He took hold of her hand. “E? You need to wake up, okay? Just for a little while.”
He saw her tense, as if she were grinding her teeth, and her eyes opened so slowly he wondered if they’d been lined with lead.
“Sleepy.”
“It’s no wonder,” Dr. Collins said as he stood opposite Cole and accessed her test results on the nearby computer. “Your blood count is alarmingly low. Have you by any chance been diagnosed with anemia?”
“No.” Eden frowned as if it was difficult to concentrate. She stared down at her now bandaged wrists.
“I’ve done a preliminary exam and haven’t found any internal issues, Doctor,” the remaining nurse in the room said. “No swelling, no broken bones or fractures, and she’s not complaining of any pain.”
“We’ll double-check all that. In the meantime, the saline should get those numbers up. Ms. St. Claire? Eden?” Dr. Collins, clearly taking a cue from Cole, kept his voice low and calm as he asked, “I’d like to examine you, if that’s okay? Detective Delaney can stay here with you. We want you to be calm. We’ll get through this, I promise.”
Eden squeezed Cole’s hand so tightly he almost lost circulation. “All right.”
Cole blanked his mind as Dr. Collins kept his word, examining Eden with a thorough efficiency that made Cole wonder if the AMA should consider cloning him.
“Eden, the nurse said you told her you had not been sexually assaulted.”
“That’s right.” Eden’s voice was tight and her fingers went white around Cole’s hand.
“But you were unconscious for a period of time.” He hesitated. “I’d like your permission to conduct a sexual-assault exam.”
Eden squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, but a solitary tear slipped down her cheek. Cole swallowed and pretended not to notice. “Do I know how to show you a good time or what?” she joked in such a strained voice Cole’s heart constricted. “Do it,” she said.
Cole’s admiration for Eden—and all women—amplified exponentially as Dr. Collins proceeded.
A few moments went by and Dr. Collins murmured to the nurse, “No indication of sexual assault.” He gave Cole a quick nod of reassurance. “Now. Let’s see what we have here.” He skimmed his hands up her left arm, tangled with the IV line and needle poking into her skin, before checking Eden’s other arm. “Nurse? Did you or one of your assistants attempt to put a line in on her right side?”
“No, Doctor.” The nurse leaned over the bed and followed the doctor’s gaze to the bruises forming in the crook of Eden’s arm. “I did make note of a similar puncture wound in the side of her neck. Excuse me, Detective.” The nurse circled around and gently held Eden’s head to the side. “It’s small, but there’s a bruise forming.”
“We’ll get you pictures, Detective.” Dr. Collins tapped away on the bedside computer. “Her first blood results are in and there are trace amounts of Propofol in your system. I want to run more tests, but we won’t get the results until later this morning. Eden?” Dr. Collins rested his hands on the railing and bent down so she had no choice but to look at him. “Eden, I want to admit you overnight. We need to get your blood count stabilized.”
Her eyes went wide before they drooped.
“I know you don’t want to be here, but I don’t like those marks you have. Give me twelve hours, Eden. That’s all I’m asking for. And I can sedate you for most of them if you want.”
“Wh-what do you think you’ll find?” She sounded little-girl scared, a sure sign she wasn’t herself yet.
“I can’t be certain, but I need you to trust me. Just for a little while. Can you do that?”
“Cole?” Eden shifted and looked him in the eye. “Will you be here when I wake up?”
“Where else would I be?” He squeezed her hand as his heart started thudding an uneasy rhythm.
“’Kay. Put me out.”
“When you feel up to it—” Cole bent close and whispered to her as the nurse and Dr. Collins discussed the amount of sedative “—you and I are going to have a very long talk about what happened tonight. You hear me, Eden?”
He ignored every warning blaring in his head telling him to keep an emotional distance, but this was Eden. There wasn’t any distance to be had. “You’re done doing things this way. Understand?”
“Mmm.” She nodded as her face relaxed into a goofy smile. “I hear you. Don’t agree, though. He’s out there. Hunting.” She groggily patted his hand as the nurse injected the sedative into her IV. “Gotta get him. Gotta get all of them. For Chloe...”
And then she was out.
“Doctor?” Cole placed her hand gently on the bed.
“Outside, please.” Dr. Collins led him into the hallway and drew Eden’s door almost shut. “I can’t be certain, but given her platelet and red cell count, I’d say her blood’s been drained. Enough that I’m seeing more signs of that than the hypothermia. I’ll know more once those tests come back. If you’ll excuse me.”
Cole nodded, then caught the nurse as she came out of Eden’s room. “How much of the sedative did you give her?”
“She’ll be out for six, maybe seven hours.”
“I’ll be back in five.”
It was an hour before Cole pulled into the parking lot of the deserted warehouse off Parkway Boulevard in West Sac. At a little before 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday, traffic was nonexistent. Patrol cars from both his and the West Sac department sat scattered about, their lights casting eerie blinding beams into the still-dark morning. Yellow crime-scene tape cordoned off the area. Behind him, the gold silhouette of the landmark Tower Bridge loomed over the city. Two coroner vans, along with two dark sedans, told him more than one department superior was on scene.
As were several news crews. Irritation singed his nerves. Then he realized it was better to deal with them here than have them staking out Eden’s bedside. The longer her situation remained under wraps, the better.