Unable to hold himself back, Jack crowded in at the head of Laurie's bed that had been backed up against the nurses' station countertop. He looked down and saw what he thought was a miracle. Laurie's eyes were open, and they were moving from one face poised over her to another and reflected not a little confusion and fear. Unexpectedly, Jack burst into tears such that it was hard for him to see. All he could do was shake his head when he tried to talk.
"Release her wrists," ordered Caitlin, who had pushed in across from Jack. The restraints had been left in place during the ordeal. Caitlin bent over Laurie and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Everything is okay. Just relax. We've got things under control. You're going to be all right."
Laurie tried to speak, but her voice was barely audible. Caitlin had to bend down to put her ear next to Laurie's mouth. "You're in the Manhattan General Hospital," Caitlin said. "Do you know your name and what year it is?" Caitlin listened, and then straightened up. She looked across at Jack, who had calmed enough to control his crying and wipe away the tears. "This is looking very good indeed. She's oriented. I have to say your rapid diagnosis undoubtedly saved the day. With as high as her potassium was when we started, she surely wouldn't have been able to be resuscitated."
Jack nodded. He still couldn't talk. Instead, he bent down and put his forehead on Laurie's. Now that her hands were free, Laurie reached up and patted the side of his head and whispered in a scratchy voice: "Why are you so upset? What's going on?"
Laurie's questions unleashed another wave of tears. All he could do for the moment was squeeze Laurie's hand.
A nurse at the nurses' station desk stood up behind the counter. She'd just answered the phone. "Dr. Burroughs," she called. "The stat potassium on Montgomery is four milli-equivalents."
"My word," Caitlin exclaimed. "That's darn near perfect." She turned to her three resident underlings. "Okay, here's what we are going to do! While I call the attending physician and give her an update, you three get the patient down to the cardiac care unit and get her set up on the monitor. I'll want another potassium level as soon as you get there, and I'll be there as soon as I finish here so we can decide on her fluids."
As the preparations were quickly made to move Laurie, Jack found his voice. "I'm not upset," he whispered in Laurie's ear. "I'm happy you're okay. You gave us a scare."
"I did?" Laurie questioned. Her voice was returning as well, but it hurt her to talk.
"You were unconscious for a while," Jack said. "What was the last thing you remember?"
"I remember leaving the PACU, but nothing after that. What happened?"
"I'll explain everything I know at the first opportunity," Jack promised as the bed started to move.
"Are you coming?" Laurie asked, holding on to Jack's arm.
"You'd better believe it," Jack said as he walked alongside. A nurse ran up and handed Jack his damp coat and jacket.
They used a patient elevator to take Laurie down to the third floor, where the CCU was located. At the door to the CCU, there was a holdup. The charge nurse would not let Jack come in, although he would be able to visit once she was situated. At first Jack had balked at the idea. He wanted to stay by Laurie's side, considering what had transpired when he hadn't. Eventually, Jack relented, convinced that Laurie would be in good hands. The resuscitation residents assured him that one of them would be at the bedside continually.
"I'll be right here," Jack assured Laurie, pointing out a small waiting room just opposite the CCU door.
Laurie nodded, preoccupied with her physical symptoms, which had become progressively more bothersome as her mind had cleared. What she wanted at the moment was some ice chips for her dry mouth and sore throat, as well as something for the pain she felt at her incision site and in her chest. As far as her memory was concerned, it was still a blank after leaving the PACU.
Jack went into the waiting room, which was empty of visitors. A clock on the wall indicated it was six-fifteen in the morning. There were several couches and a number of chairs. A mixture of old magazines littered a coffee table. Complimentary coffee was available in a corner. Jack tossed his coat and jacket on the arm of one of the sofas and sat down, letting out a heavy groan in the process. He leaned back, put his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes. He felt shell-shocked. He'd never had such stress combined with such physical exertion and wide swings of emotion. Making matters worse were the residual effects of the caffeine, which were enough to make him sick.
The process of closing his eyes made it possible for Jack to think about the sheer criminality of what Laurie had luckily endured. With the immediacy of taking care of her, he hadn't thought about it until that moment. In his mind's eye, he could see the tanned nurse in Laurie's room when he'd barged in. In the dim light, she'd appeared almost gaunt, with dark, short hair, deeply set eyes, and startling white teeth. What he remembered the most was the pillow in one hand and the large syringe in the other. He knew there could be many explanations for why she had been holding such things, just as there could be an explanation for her apparent paralysis in the face of what was obviously a life-and-death emergency. Jack had seen others freeze like that when he was a resident. In fact, he had done essentially the same thing on his first cardiac arrest after graduating from medical school. Yet under the circumstances, Jack couldn't help but think of her actions as being suspicious. He'd seen her again during the nerve-wracking resuscitation, but only for brief glimpses when she'd appeared at the nurses' station to go into the drug room to use the computerized dispenser.
She'd not participated in the resuscitation. Jack had asked one of the nurses who had helped what the tanned nurse's name was. When she told him, Jack was even more suspicious. It was another name on Roger's lists.
Jack's eyes popped open. He fumbled in this coat pocket for his cell phone. Knowing Lou Soldano's private home number in SoHo, and despite the hour, he quickly put in a call to him. After what he had witnessed, Lou had to get involved. There could be no more excuses. The phone rang six times before Lou picked up. His voice was gravelly, and Jack had to wait through a coughing jag on the detective's part.
"Are you going to live?" Jack questioned when Lou finally fell silent.
"Cut the humor," Lou growled. "This better be important."
"It's more than important," Jack said. "Laurie had to have emergency surgery last night at the Manhattan General. Then a couple of hours ago, someone put her on the edge of the abyss and gave her a good shove. She came as close to dying and not dying as you can get. In fact, for a few seconds or maybe even minutes, she was dead."
"My God!" Lou blurted, which initiated another fit of coughing.
"Do you cough like this every morning?" Jack asked when Lou came back on the line.
"Where is she now?" Lou asked, ignoring Jack's question.
"She's in the cardiac care unit on the third floor," Jack said. "I'm sitting in a visitor's room just opposite the door."
"Is she in any danger?"
"Medically or otherwise?"
"Both."
"Medically, I think they have things pretty much in hand. She lucked out with a particularly sharp cardiology resident who looks like she belongs in middle school. She's the second person tonight that has made me feel over the hill. As far as the person who tried to kill Laurie getting another crack at it, I don't think that's a problem. Not in the cardiac care unit-there are too many people around, and I'm sitting outside the only door."
"Do you have any idea who did it?"
"There's one person, a nurse actually, who I'd be willing to put some money on, but it's circumstantial. I'll tell you the details when you get here. We've also got Roger's lists, so your work is cut out for you. But the idea of Laurie's series being hypothetical is no longer tenable. She almost became a statistic herself."