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FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING |
Aftershocks (Chapter 6) |
"What was the name again?" the attendant asked, looking at a clipboard.
"Prescott. Bradford Prescott," Lucy replied. "He was brought in DOA."
"Oh, right. He just came down a little while ago. Follow me." The attendant walked on ahead and Lucy trailed behind him. "Are you here to identify the body?"
"No, I'm not his family. I just need...wanted to see him."
She watched as the attendant checked his list and located the correct drawer. He opened the small door and pulled out the sliding table. Slowly, she stepped forward and gazed at the body.
"I'll leave you alone, then," the attendant murmured, keeping a respectful distance. "Just let me know when you're finished."
"Thank you."
Lucy continued to stare down at him. This didn't look like Brad at all. Oh, it was definitely him; no doubt about that. But her mind wasn't accepting that the Brad she had known, and this lifeless body, were the same person.
Over the past couple of years, she had seen many people die; some old, some young. Having a child die always seemed the most tragic; like Sarah Browning. Even when someone was old and frail, and died of natural causes, it was never easy to watch.
And now, here lay her boyfriend. A man that she had come to care for. A man that while flawed, and lacking in good judgment, certainly had not deserved to die as he had.
She felt sadness and remorse, but her eyes were dry. That surprised her. Couldn't she even shed a tear for him? What was wrong with her? The one feeling that was beginning to overwhelm her as she stood here, was guilt. *I should have called a taxi for him. I should have taken his keys away. I should have done something to keep him from driving. Why didn't I think of that then? How could I have been so selfish and stupid?*
"I'm sorry, Brad," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
That vague nauseous feeling in her stomach was getting worse. She was going to be sick.
Lucy turned on her heel and ran through the morgue, past the startled attendant, who started to say, "Are you all right, miss?" She didn't answer, but kept her hand clapped to her mouth, and reached the hallway. There was a washroom conveniently located just outside of the morgue. She barely made it to the stall inside before she started retching.
After her stomach had been emptied, she sat on the floor for a while. Minutes passed; exactly how long, she didn't know. She tried to keep her mind blank. She concentrated on her breathing and the beating of her heart. Both were erratic for a short time, then gradually slowed to a steady rhythm.
She wasn't sure how long she sat there, but her silent world was interrupted by someone coming into the washroom.
"Hey, you all right down there?" a woman asked, seeing a pair of legs sprawled on the floor.
Lucy quickly rose to her feet, trying to ignore the wave of dizziness that passed through her. She came out of the stall and mumbled, "I wasn't feeling well."
"Let me guess, your first visit to the morgue?"
Lucy wished the woman would shut up. She was entirely too cheerful. Washing her hands and then rinsing out her mouth, Lucy remained quiet as the woman entered one of the stalls, continuing her chatter.
Lucy slipped out of the washroom as quickly as possible, then slowed her steps and headed toward the elevator. Keeping her mind deliberately blank had helped her for a little while, but the rational side of her knew she couldn't do that for much longer. She was heading back up to the ER now; back up to the real world. It was time to face reality again.
***************
"She still isn't back yet?" Kerry asked.
Jerry shook his head. Half an hour had passed since Lucy had ran off. They were both starting to get worried. Kerry had called Mr. Prescott, and he was on his way to the hospital. The police were sitting in chairs, waiting to speak with Lucy.
The ER had quieted down now. The last patient had just been discharged. Most of the staff members were talking softly in little groups, speculating over why the police were here and how Lucy was involved. Everyone knew that she had been paged here, but they wondered why. And now it seemed she had disappeared.
"Here she is!" someone called out.
Lucy walked slowly down the hall, painfully aware that she was the center of attention. Everyone was staring at her, and she tried to avoid their gazes. Did they all know? Did everyone know she had killed Brad? She started to feel queasy again, and desperately tried to ignore it.
"Lucy, there you are."
The voice cut into her thoughts and she found herself facing Dr. Weaver.
"We were worried about you," Kerry continued, her voice gentle. "Where did you go?"
"I...nowhere. I just needed to get some air."
Kerry tried to place a hand on her arm, but Lucy shied away. For some reason, she simply didn't want to be touched. They continued to walk down the hall. "Do you feel up to talking with the police? They just want to ask you a few questions."
"Yeah, sure," Lucy replied faintly. She just wished everyone would stop staring at her! She could feel her cheeks growing hot.
Kerry was starting to get annoyed with the staff, and her crutch fell with a loud thunk with every step she took. "If you don't have anything to do, I suggest you all make use of the lounge," she called out, her tone of voice not leaving room for argument.
She led Lucy to chairs, while most of the staff made their way to the lounge. Some of them stayed around the admit desk, either having legitimate work to do, or pretending to be busy. Jerry sat by the computer and began surfing the 'net. He'd been asked a lot of questions about Lucy, but had claimed to be clueless. No one knew about Brad yet.
The two men in the waiting area stood up as Kerry and Lucy approached them.
"Are you Miss Knight?" one of them asked.
"Yes," Lucy replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Actually, it's Dr. Knight," Kerry said crisply.
"All right, Dr. Knight. I'm Officer Murdock, and this is Officer Olsten." He indicated his partner, who nodded, not having spoken yet. He then looked back to Kerry. "If you don't mind, we should speak to Dr. Knight alone."
Kerry did mind, but she wasn't sure if it was her place to protest. She had grown fond of Lucy over the past few years, and was feeling rather like the mother hen right now.
As if reading her mind, Lucy said, "It's all right, Dr. Weaver. I'll be fine."
"I'll be by the admit desk, then." She wanted to add, 'if you need me', but she held her tongue, and left the three of them alone.
"So Bradford Prescott was your boyfriend. Is that correct?" Officer Murdock asked.
"That's right."
"How long did you know each other?"
"About three months."
"When was the last time you saw him?"
*Just a little while ago, in the morgue* she thought sadly. She told them about their date; going out to a movie, and then to dinner. Officer Murdock asked what time Brad had left her apartment. She had to think about it for a moment, and replied that it had been about 10 pm.
The officer told her the accident had occurred just after 10 o'clock.
"Did he have anything to drink?" Officer Olsten asked, speaking up for the first time.
Lucy felt the sharp twinge of guilt again. She nodded and let them know how much he'd drank at the restaurant. Was she imagining things, or were both of the men looking at her with an unspoken accusation in their eyes?
Kerry wondered how Lucy was holding up. Although she kept insisting she was fine, Kerry didn't believe her. Not for a second. She got the feeling that Lucy was just hanging on by a thread, and she was afraid it was going to start unraveling at any moment.
"Where is he? Where's my son!" a frantic voice boomed.
Kerry looked up as a man rushed up to the window of the admit desk, out of breath and his brow creased with worry. She stepped forward immediately. "Mr. Prescott?" she asked.
He looked down at her, still taking in gulps of air. "Yes."
"I'm Dr. Weaver. We spoke on the phone."
"Where's Brad?" Even as he asked the question, he started moving down the hall, his head turning to the left and right.
"Just a moment, Mr. Prescott!" Kerry hurried after him.
He quickly came upon the waiting area, and spotted his son's girlfriend talking with two police officers. "Lucy, what's happened to Brad?" he demanded.
Lucy's heart jumped at the sound of his voice, and she turned to find him striding towards her. "Mr. Prescott!" She knew, of course, that he would be called into the ER. But she didn't realize how difficult it would be to look into his eyes. She wanted to run and hide; anything to avoid facing him. But her legs felt like blocks of cement, and all she could do was stand there.
"Are you Bradford Prescott's father?" Officer Murdock asked.
"Yes, I'm Thomas Prescott. What's going on? Is he all right?"
Kerry came up behind the distraught man, and she shared a look with the officer. Who's job was it to give the news? Because this wasn't really a criminal case, she decided the task belonged to her. She moved herself into Mr. Prescott's line of vision and switched to professional mode. "I'm afraid I have bad news. Perhaps you should sit down."
"I'll stand, thank you," he said stiffly, eyeing Kerry warily. He almost seemed to be bracing himself for what was to come.
"I told you over the phone that your son was brought into the ER, but I didn't tell you everything. He was involved in a car accident and was killed instantly. He was brought here by the paramedics, DOA. There was nothing we could do for him." The regret was obvious in Kerry's voice. "I'm very sorry."
There were several beats of silence, and all eyes were focused on Mr. Prescott. "DOA..." he murmured, almost to himself. "Dead on arrival. A car accident, you say." He looked at the officers, both of whom were regarding him solemnly. "What exactly happened?"
Officer Olsten began to explain the situation, according to what the two eyewitnesses had reported. In a nutshell, Brad had been speeding and lost control of his car, smashing into a tree. Mr. Prescott's expression didn't change as he listened to the story. His face remained impassive.
Officer Olsten finished up by saying, "Dr. Knight has informed us that alcohol was most likely a factor."
Mr. Prescott glanced at Lucy. "How so?"
She had to swallow hard, before replying. "Brad had a lot to drink at dinner."
"And you let him drive?" Mr. Prescott's voice rose sharply.
"I...I drove us back to my apartment after dinner. But then...we, uh, had a fight, and he left." She felt herself withering under Mr. Prescott's stare. That urge to run was starting to overwhelm her again, but she felt almost trapped under his intense gaze.
"Why didn't you stop him?"
"I don't know. I...I wasn't thinking."
"Damn right you weren't thinking!" Mr. Prescott roared, his control finally snapping. He stepped forward, pointing an accusing finger in Lucy's white face. "You should have stopped him! Obviously, you were concerned about your own safety when you drove home from the restaurant. You made sure he didn't drive when your own life was at stake. And yet you didn't have any qualms about letting him drive off after your little argument. Did you want him to die?"
"Of course not," Lucy uttered miserably, his words cutting through her like sharp little knives.
Kerry had just about had enough. "Mr. Prescott, I really think you..."
"Stay out of this!" he barked, his eyes never straying from Lucy's face. He stepped closer still, and she took an involuntary step backwards from his hateful glare. He lowered his voice slightly so he was no longer shouting, but his tone was icy. "This is your fault. He would still be alive if you..." His voice started shaking but he continued on. "You killed him. You killed my son."
Lucy was already pale, but she now turned whiter than a sheet. Her eyes looked enormous in her face. *He's right. I killed him. Oh God* She couldn't breathe, and the walls seemed to be closing in on her. She had to escape.
"Mr. Prescott!" Kerry snapped angrily. "That's enough!" She turned to Lucy, but before she could say anything, Lucy bolted from the room. Kerry called out her name and hobbled after her as fast as she could.
Lucy didn't even hear her. All she could hear was the drumming of her own heart, and it seemed to beat in time to the words 'my fault, my fault, my fault...' She pushed through the ambulance bay doors and ran out into the night.
Kerry followed behind her, still shouting her name. Shivering in the cold, she watched with dismay as Lucy disappeared around the corner. "Damnit! Jerry!" she yelled, turning back. She looked up to find that he had already stepped outside. "Run after her. Drag her back here if you have to."
Jerry took off down the back street. She stood there for a while, enduring the frigid air, then reluctantly returned to the warmth behind the double doors. She practically kept her nose to the glass until she saw him running back towards her. Without Lucy.
Her heart sank and she waited impatiently until he came through the doors. The worried look in her eyes was mirrored in his own, and he spoke between gasps of air. "I can't find her. I thought I saw someone in a white coat turning down one alley, but it wasn't her. I'm sorry, Dr. Weaver."
"Ok. It's ok, Jerry." She patted him on the arm, and walked back to the admit desk, noticing that Mr. Prescott was now deep in conversation with the two officers. That was fine by her. She didn't want to talk to any of them right now.
Part of her understood that Mr. Prescott had been lashing out blindly in his grief, perhaps feeling the need to place the blame on someone for the senseless death of his son. But what he had said to Lucy had been so cruel, she almost winced now just from the memory of it. Lucy hadn't deserved that.
And the officers. They had just stood there in stony silence while Mr. Prescott had ripped Lucy to shreds. Would it have been asking too much for them to have shown the young woman a small measure of compassion? From the moment they had come into the ER, they had simply performed their duties with an air of coolness. She tried to reason that they were only doing their jobs, but she wished they could display a little more empathy for what Lucy was going through. Couldn't everyone see that she was suffering enough?
"Where could she have gone?" She didn't realize she had spoken out loud until Jerry answered her.
"Maybe she caught the El back home," he suggested.
"Maybe," she mused. She was most worried about Lucy not having her winter coat on. Her sweater and lab coat would not provide her with enough protection from the cold for long. Thankfully, it was a bit milder tonight than it had been in a while.
She hoped that Lucy was indeed on her way home. And that gave her an idea.
***************
After the fourth ring, the machine picked up.
Carter half awakened, and then rolled over on his side, his eyes fluttering closed again.
"Carter, are you there? It's Kerry. This is an emergency. Lucy's missing. Carter?" the anxious voice came through the answering machine.
"What?" he croaked, turning back to his other side. He fumbled for the phone, almost dropping the receiver. "What did you say, Kerry?" he asked, finally getting the phone to his ear.
Kerry started at the beginning, telling him about Brad's death. She included some of the ugly scene between Lucy and Mr. Prescott, and ended by telling him that Lucy had ran out of the ER.
"She doesn't even have her winter coat on," Kerry said. "I'm hoping she got on the El and is headed home. Could you keep an eye out for her? And let me know if she shows up?"
Carter was fully awake now and sitting up in his bed. His mind was reeling from everything Kerry had told him. "Yeah, of course, but you're not sure she's headed back here?"
"No, I have no idea."
"What are you saying, she could be wandering alone through the streets in the middle of the night?" Just the thought of it made him shudder. God, anything could happen to her out there! How could they just let her run off like that?
He heard some muffled voices, as if Kerry had covered the mouthpiece of the receiver with her hand. Then her voice came through clearly again. "I'm sorry, Carter, I have to go. So let me know if she comes back to the apartment, ok?"
"Yeah, ok," he muttered.
He hung up the phone and turned on the bedside lamp, blinking in the sudden brightness. Running a hand through his already tousled hair, he stared at the wall. So Brad was dead. He didn't know how to feel about that. Truthfully, he really hadn't known the guy; didn't know that much about him. He sure as hell hadn't liked how Brad had treated Lucy. That's about all he was sure of.
And Brad's father blamed Lucy for letting him drive while drunk? Well, she wasn't the only one to blame for that. Carter had been able to smell the alcohol on Brad's breath, so he'd known that Brad had been drinking. But it hadn't been obvious that he was drunk. He hadn't slurred his words or stumbled over his feet. In any case, concern over Brad driving himself home hadn't even crossed Carter's mind. It didn't make sense to blame Lucy. Brad was a big boy, and capable of making his own decisions. His death had been caused by his own recklessness.
Carter was concerned over Lucy's state of mind. She had been having a hard time of it lately. He remembered how agitated she'd been earlier this evening, when she'd rambled on to him about work, and how tired she was. He was worried that Brad's death on top of all this would be enough to drive her over the edge.
*The edge of what?* He didn't want to know the answer.
Carter hopped off the bed and started pacing. What should he do? He didn't want to just wait here, hoping that she might eventually turn up. There had to be more that he could do.
He could just picture her walking through the streets of Chicago in a daze, an easy target for any scumbag that came across her... His mouth suddenly went dry and he felt a band of fear tighten across his chest. "Calm down. You're driving yourself crazy," he said aloud. He couldn't stand it any longer. There was no way he could just sit here and wait around. He had to find her.
Once he'd made the decision, he felt a little better. He dressed as quickly as possible and wound his way through the living room in the dark. Banging into a stack of boxes, he cursed as he stubbed his toe. He hadn't quite managed to unpack everything yet.
Turning on the kitchen light, he reached for the note he'd stuck on the refrigerator. It was the superintendent's phone number.
Carter expected Mr. Stein to be sleeping. It was just past 12:30 am, but he answered after the first ring. Carter explained the situation and Mr. Stein was most sympathetic. He had always liked Lucy; she was an ideal tenant that never gave him any problems. He offered to spend the next hour or so down in the office to keep an eye out for her. He said he was a night owl anyway, and could read his book down there as easily as in bed.
Carter thanked the man profusely, and gave him his pager number. Mr. Stein promised to call him immediately if Lucy came home.
With that taken care of, Carter was free to go. As he drove towards the hospital, his eyes were practically glued to the sidewalks. But there was no sign of her. At one point, he had to slam on the brakes, almost plowing into the car in front of him. He focused a bit more on his driving after that close call.
He parked in his usual spot and made his way to the ER. As he walked towards Admitting, he could sense a buzz in the air. Swinging his head back and forth, he looked for Kerry but couldn't see her anywhere. He spotted Jerry by the desk.
"Jerry, any news on Lucy?"
Jerry looked faintly surprised to see Carter, but he certainly didn't question it. They could use all the help they could get. "No, nothing."
"Where's Kerry?"
"She took Brad's father down to the morgue to identify the body." Jerry gave a shake of his head. "Man, I still can't believe it."
Carter came to stand a little closer to him. "So how did Lucy look the last time you saw her?" he asked in a low voice.
Jerry looked somber. "Not good. Mr. Prescott was really laying into her. I could hear him from here. Heck, everyone in the ER heard him. I felt so bad for her."
"Did you see which way she ran?"
"Not really. I ended up running after some other woman for a minute before I realized it wasn't Lucy," he admitted, a little sheepishly.
"Is security looking for her?"
"A few guys, yeah. And the two cops that were here."
Carter had a sudden thought. He almost dismissed it, but it was still a possibility. "They're searching the streets around the hospital, right?"
"Yeah, far as I know. Why?"
"Nothing. I'm just gonna check something out."
Carter headed towards the elevator and pushed the up button. He found himself making a silent prayer. *Please God, let me find her safe and sound*
"I'm coming, Luce," he whispered.
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