“ Can you close, or do you want me to do it?”
“ I’ll do it with a running 3–0 Prolene suture.”
“ Good, then reinforce the entry wound with a 3–0 pleggeted Prolene suture. Can you do that?”
“ Piece of cake,” Wells said.
“ Aaron,” Izzy said. “I’m feeling a little faint. Can you close up after she’s finished with the heart.” She turned to face him, met his eyes and though they were both wearing surgical masks, she could see the astonishment painted all over his face.
“ Ha, ha, how?”
“ Don’t stutter. I’ve told you about that.” She smiled.
“ You were-”
“ Not now. You have a patient.”
“ But-”
“ It’s a miracle.” She started for the door. “We’ll talk when you finish.”
Outside the OR, she pulled off her gloves, then made for the stairs. It would take them an hour or so to finish and she had to be long gone by then.
Chapter Four
Detective Bob Mouledoux, called Mississippi by friend and foe alike, drove the unmarked Crown Vic into the parking lot at St. Catherine’s. This was his first case in Robbery/Homicide and he wanted to impress his new partner, Joe Friday, who everyone who’d earned the right called Peeps, because early in his career he’d busted prostitutes by peeping in the windows of a motel they were known to use. These days prostitution was legal and they mostly looked the other way when girls plied the trade illegally.
Although only a day in Robbery/Homicide and only a cop for a couple years, Mouledoux had earned the right. Three months ago Mouledoux and his partner, an out of shape windbag named Reymundo Galvez, rolled into a gunfight. Three bad asses hopped up on meth had robbed a convenience store on Virginia, shooting and killing the girl behind the counter. They’d also shot a cop attempting their getaway, a young woman with a couple kids. And they’d had her partner pinned down.
Mouledoux floored the cruiser, smashed into the pickup they were hiding behind, jumped out of the ride, screaming like a banshee. One of the three was on the ground, knocked down by the collision. The other two were stunned. Mouledoux shot and killed them all.
Galvez demanded a new partner, believing the suits were going to crucify Mississippi Bob Mouledoux, but the gangbangers had killed a nineteen-year-old girl and shot down one of their own, which didn’t sit well with those in charge because they were cops too. Galvez got his new partner. Bob Mouledoux got Robbery/Homicide and the right to call Joe Friday by his nickname.
Mouledoux glanced over at Friday, who had his head back against the headrest. If his eyes had been open, he’d be staring at the headliner, but they weren’t. He was asleep.
“ Hey, Peeps, we’re here.”
“ Yeah, alright.” Peeps was a good cop, who’d taken endless ribbing because of his names, his real one and his nickname. “Park over there.” He pointed to the handicapped parking by the emergency entrance.
“ Yeah, sure.” On his own, Mouledoux would’ve found an empty spot in patient’s parking and walked, but Peeps was known for using any perk he could get.
They entered through the emergency room, walked straight through, Peeps showing the way. He’d been here before, probably several times. This was Mouledoux’s first. At the reception, Peeps told everybody’s great aunt, a woman named Elizabeth Chandler, according to her badge, that he wanted to see Dr. Romero about the Eisenhower homicide.
A few minutes later they were ushered into the office of the President and CEO of St. Catherine’s, an athletic looking man with a full head of ash grey hair and skin so white it looked like he hadn’t seen the sun in forever, named Aaron Shaffer. He was a doctor and his office was large and afforded him a prime view of Reno’s downtown casinos. Must be gorgeous at night, Mouledoux thought, as Dr. Romero introduced them to the hospital’s CEO, then to Simon Drake, the hospital’s attorney, and lastly to Dr. Elizabeth Jordan, the attending who’d treated Isadora Eisenhower in the emergency room.
“ As you know, we had a busy day here yesterday,” Shaffer said after they were seated.
“ Yeah, the accident,” Peeps said. “I can imagine.” There’d been a random, gang related shooting, which caused a multi-car accident at the Spaghetti Bowl, where Interstate 80 and Highway 395 crossed. Several injured; fortunately no fatalities.
“ Yes, so you can imagine the confusion here.” He looked first toward Peeps, then toward Mouledoux. Both cops met his eyes straight on.
“ Yeah, we get the idea,” Peeps said.
“ I had Dr. Romero ask for you for a reason, Detective Friday.”
“ He told me it’s sensitive and I’m known for keeping my yap shut. We get it.”
“ And Detective Mouledoux?”
“ I can keep my yap shut, too. We’re cops, we don’t go broadcasting our investigations.”
“ Yet I read about so many of them in the press.”
“ You called me because you trust me,” Peeps said. “You can trust Detective Mouledoux as well.”
“ Okay, but if any of this gets out the press will go crazy. The public too. There will be a feeding frenzy like none before.” He sighed, the way only a troubled man can. “At the present only the four of us know what I’m about to tell you. Well, the four of us and Isadora Eisenhower, of course.”
“ Wait a minute,” Peeps said. “She’s dead.”
“ Is she?” Shaffer said.
“ Well, isn’t she?” Peeps said.
“ We don’t know for sure and that’s the problem.”
“ Where’s the body?” Peeps said.
“ It’s gone.”
“ Someone stole it?” Peeps said.
“ Not exactly,” Shaffer said.
“ Well, it didn’t get up and walk away.”
“ As I said, that’s the problem. We think it did.”
“ We’re outta here!” Peeps said.
“ Wait a minute, Joe,” Mouledoux said. “He’s serious.”
“ You’re kidding?” Then to Shaffer. “So what’s the deal, you pronounced her and she wasn’t dead? You thought she’d been shot through the heart, but you made a mistake? It was only a flesh wound, so the patient got up and went home?”
“ Not exactly,” Shaffer said. “I’d like to show you part of a video we took of one of our surgeries this morning.” He put a disk into his computer, then rotated the screen so the detectives could see it.
On the screen, a woman was on the table and a team of surgeons and nurses were around her. A young female doctor was about to cut into the woman’s chest. She paused, turned away from the patient, lowered her mask, took in a deep breath, then wiped sweat from her brow with her scrub sleeve and, for an instant, the camera caught a frontal view of her face. Shaffer stopped the tape.
“ I know that woman.” Mouledoux hadn’t known Amy was a doctor. He’d thought she was a full time student. She must be taking classes as a hobby of some sort. Must be nice to have that kind of spare time. “She used to live in my complex.”
“ I know her, too,” Peeps said. “She just broke up with someone I know. Her name’s Amy Eisenhower.” He paused for a second. “Wait a minute, she related to the missing body?”
“ This might be easier than I’d hoped.” Shaffer tapped his keyboard and the screen went dark. “Detective Mouledoux, what color are Amy Eisenhower’s eyes?”
“ Blue.”
