Tucson, Arizona
With the Reyes family no longer in attendance, Sister Anselm noticed that the ICU waiting room outside Jane Doe’s door was relatively quiet. According to Mona, the charge nurse, Jose’s condition had improved enough that he’d been moved into a regular room. Mona also said that Teresa and her new baby were doing fine.
That was a relief. Sister Anselm was weary and feeling the effects of her long vigil. Jane Doe’s situation had worsened again during the afternoon. Sister Anselm had yet to go to All Saints. She was looking forward to it. She wanted to take a shower; to lie down; to sleep for a few hours. She knew that her phone would alert her if there was yet another crisis for her patient, someone the hospital officially listed as Jane Doe, although Sister Anselm knew otherwise.
During the afternoon, Sister Anselm had gone down to the administration offices and printed out copies of the photos Ali had forwarded to her. They were easier to see in a larger format, even if the features themselves were a little blurry. That was the real reason Sister Anselm was sticking around the ICU. She was worried that Rose Ventana’s assailant would return to try to do her harm. If that happened, Sister Anselm would most likely be Rose’s only line of defense.
While the machines murmured in the background, Sister Anselm slipped into a doze only to be startled awake by someone knocking on the door frame. The nun’s eyes popped open in time to see a man’s face appear in the doorway.
“Excuse me,” he said. “I’m looking for the woman who was found out by Three Points on Friday. Are you a nurse?”
There he was, the very man Sister Anselm had been worrying about all afternoon. He was dressed as he’d been in the earlier security photos-jeans and a red-and-blue U of A sweatshirt. He was carrying the Mariners baseball cap instead of wearing it.
At first Sister Anselm thought she was asleep and this was a bad dream. But no, she wasn’t. He was right there in the waiting room, outside Jane Doe’s door.
Sister Anselm hustled to her feet and planted herself defensively between the doorway and her sleeping patient. Slipping her hand into her pocket, she searched for her Taser. As her fingers closed around the weapon, she pushed back the sliding cover, exposing the trigger button. That way, when she brought it out of her pocket, the Taser would already be activated; the red laser sighting light would be glowing.
“This is an ICU,” she said firmly. “Are you a relative? If not, you’ll need to leave immediately. Only authorized relatives are allowed to visit patients in this unit.”
“Mr. Gutierrez?”
Sister Anselm heard what sounded like Ali’s voice speaking urgently from the waiting room but outside the nun’s line of vision. The man spun around to face the person who had spoken to him. As soon as he did so, Sister Anselm extracted her Taser and stepped toward the door, closing the distance between them. When she stopped moving forward, she was less than three feet from the intruder. At that distance, even a bad shot would hit the target.
He took several steps backward and moved away from the door. He glanced warily first to the left, then back at Sister Anselm, and finally down toward his chest, where two bright red laser dots had appeared.
“What the hell?” he demanded. “You’ve both got Tasers? Are you women nuts?”
While he continued to back away from them, Sister Anselm moved farther into the waiting room, pulling the door to Jane Doe’s room shut behind her.
“What are you doing here, Mr. Gutierrez?” Ali demanded. She was out of breath and gasping between words. “What do you want?”
Sister Anselm had no idea how Ali knew the man’s name, but clearly, she did. At least he acted as though she did.
“I’m trying to find out if she’s alive,” Gutierrez answered. “That’s all I want to know-if she’s alive or not.”
The man didn’t appear to be armed, and he didn’t seem violent. Sister Anselm slid the lid back over the Taser’s trigger, dousing the red targeting light, but she didn’t return the weapon to her pocket. “Why do you need to know that?” She asked.
Gutierrez shook his head. “Never mind,” he said. “This was a bad idea.”
“You don’t mean her any harm?”
“Are you kidding? You’re both crazy. I’ll just go.”
“No, wait,” Sister Anselm said. “You brought flowers to the hospital earlier today. Why did you do that?”
“Because before I went to talk to her parents, I wanted to know for sure that Rose Ventana was alive. I’m the guy who found her.”
There was a moment of stark silence.
“You know my patient’s real name?” Sister Anselm said incredulously. “You know my patient’s parents?”
“Not both of them. I only spoke to her stepfather.”
Ali’s laser dot switched off as well.
“You spoke to James Fox?” Sister Anselm asked. “In Buckeye?”
Gutierrez nodded. “Yes.”
“How did you know it was her?”
“I didn’t, not for sure,” Gutierrez admitted. “But I remembered seeing the rose tattoo when I found her out in the desert on Friday. Everybody thought she was an illegal. I tried to tell them that I didn’t agree, because she spoke English not Spanish, but no one paid any attention.”
“You reported that?” Sister Anselm asked.
“Yes, but it didn’t do any good, so I did some looking on my own. Then this morning I ran across a website dealing with missing persons. That’s where I found out about Rose Ventana, who went missing in Buckeye, Arizona, three years ago. I couldn’t tell from the photos if she was the one, but it seemed like a good fit. So I drove up to Phoenix to give her parents what I thought was good news. Instead, Mr. Fox sent me packing. He claims he’ll talk to the Buckeye Police Department, but until he has some kind of official verification from them, he won’t even tell her mother. I was on my way back from Buckeye, and I decided to come by the hospital. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t already dead.”
“She’s not dead,” Sister Anselm said. “She’s getting better.” Those two sentences constituted a serious breach of patient confidentiality, but at this point, she was prepared to give Mr. Gutierrez a break. She held out her hand. “I’m Sister Anselm,” she said. “This is my friend Ali Reynolds. And you are?”
“Al,” he said. “Al Gutierrez. I’m with the Border Patrol. I found her on Friday and had her airlifted to the hospital here.”
“Glad to meet you, Mr. Gutierrez. I’ve been assigned to serve as Jane Doe’s patient advocate,” Sister Anselm explained. “I’ve done my own research on the topic, and I happen to agree with you. The woman in that room most likely is Rose Ventana, but at this juncture, I must ask you to make no further effort to contact her or her family.”
“Why not? If she’s getting better, if she’s not going to die, why not tell them?”
“Because earlier this afternoon, when I asked her if she wanted me to be in touch with her family, she answered with an emphatic no.”
“She spoke to you?”
“Not in so many words. With her jaw wired shut, all she could do was shake her head, but that’s enough of an answer for me. As her patient advocate, I’m honor-bound to abide by her wishes. Like you, I tracked down the family’s current address in Buckeye. Unlike you, I’ve made no effort to contact them, and I won’t until I have her full permission to do so. I’m asking you to do the same. To let it go.”
Al had stumbled backward into the waiting room far enough to collide with a chair and collapse into it.
“But why wouldn’t she want to see them?” Al Gutierrez demanded. “Her parents, I mean. And whether she’s dead or alive, why wouldn’t they rush right down here to see her? If she were my kid, I’d want to know the minute somebody found her.”
“Not all families are alike,” Sister Anselm said. “And until she tells me otherwise, I want to abide by her wishes. Are you with me on that, Mr. Gutierrez?”
“I suppose so,” he agreed reluctantly. “But you and your friend here drew Tasers on me. You both drew
