A sour taste flooded her throat. She was going to be sick.
Struggling against the nausea, she somehow managed to stumble away and sink into a nearby chair. There she sat for a few minutes, oblivious to the chaos whirling around her. Looking down, she noted with instinctive horror the blood on her hands.
There you are, someone said. A nurse had just emerged from the trauma room, carrying a bundle of the patients belongings. She motioned Cathy over to a desk. Well need your name and address in case the doctors have any more questions. And the police will have to be notified. Have you called them?
Cathy shook her head numbly. II guess I should
You can use this phone.
Thank you.
It rang eight times before anyone answered. The voice that greeted her was raspy with sleep. Obviously, Garberville provided little late-night stimulation, even for the local police. The desk officer took down Cathys report and told her hed be in touch with her later, after theyd checked the accident scene.
The nurse had opened Victors wallet and was flipping through the various ID cards for information. Cathy watched her fill in the blanks on a patient admission form: Name: Victor Holland. Age: 41. Occupation: Biochemist. Next of kin: Unknown.
So that was his full name. Victor Holland. Cathy stared down at the stack of ID cards and focused on what appeared to be a security pass for some company called Viratek. A color photograph showed Victors quietly sober face, its green eyes gazing straight into the camera. Even if she had never seen his face, this was exactly how she would have pictured him, his expression unyielding, his gaze unflinchingly direct. She touched her palm, where he had kissed her. She could still recall how his beard had stung her flesh.
Softly, she asked, Is he going to be all right?
The nurse continued writing. Hes lost a lot of blood. But he looks like a pretty tough guy
Cathy nodded, remembering how, even in his agony, Victor had somehow dredged up the strength to keep moving through the rain. Yes, she knew just how tough a man he was.
The nurse handed her a pen and the information sheet. If you could write your name and address at the bottom. In case the doctor has any more questions.
Cathy fished out Sarahs address and phone number from her purse and copied them onto the form. My names Cathy Weaver. You can get hold of me at this number.
Youre staying in Garberville?
For three weeks. Im just visiting.
Oh. Terrific way to start a vacation, huh?
Cathy sighed as she rose to leave. Yeah. Terrific.
She paused outside the trauma room, wondering what was happening inside, knowing that Victor was fighting for his life. She wondered if he was still conscious, if he would remember her. It seemed important that he did remember her.
Cathy turned to the nurse. You will call me, wont you? I mean, youll let me know if he
The nurse nodded. Well keep you informed.
Outside, the rain had finally stopped and a belt of stars twinkled through a parting in the clouds. To Cathys weary eyes, it was an exhilarating sight, that first glimpse of the storms end. As she drove out of the hospital parking lot, she was shaking from fatigue. She never noticed the car parked across the street or the brief glow of the cigarette before it was snuffed out.
CHAPTER TWO
Barely a minute after Cathy left the hospital, a man walked into the emergency room, sweeping the smells of a stormy night in with him through the double doors. The nurse on duty was busy with the new patients admission papers. At the sudden rush of cold air, she looked up to see a man approach her desk. He was about thirty-five, gaunt-faced, silent, his dark hair lightly feathered by gray. Droplets of water sparkled on his tan Burberry raincoat.
Can I help you, sir? she asked, focusing on his eyes, which were as black and polished as pebbles in a pond.
Nodding, he said quietly, Was there a man brought in a short time ago? Victor Holland?
The nurse glanced down at the papers on her desk. That was the name. Victor Holland. Yes, she said. Are you a relative?
Im his brother. How is he?
He just arrived, sir. Theyre working on him now. If youll wait, I can check on how hes doing- She stopped to answer the ringing telephone. It was a technician calling with the new patients laboratory results. As she jotted down the numbers, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that the man had turned and was gazing at the closed door to the trauma room. It suddenly swung open as an orderly emerged carrying a bulging plastic bag streaked with blood. The clamor of voices spilled from the room:
Pressure up to 110 over 70!
OR says theyre ready to go.
Wheres that surgeon?
On his way. He had car trouble.
Ready for X rays! Everyone back!
Slowly the door closed, muffling the voices. The nurse hung up just as the orderly deposited the plastic bag on her desk. Whats this? she asked.
Patients clothes. Theyre a mess. Should I just toss em?
Ill take them home, the man in the raincoat cut in. Is everything here?
The orderly flashed the nurse an uncomfortable glance. Im not sure hed want toI mean, theyre kind ofuh, dirty