Critical Diagnosis (Love Inspired Suspense) Page 7

  “I misread the papers. I’m so stupid,” her sister berated herself. “I was going to tell you, but then this...”

  “Forget about that for now. You need to get her to the emergency room. I’ll pay for it.”

  “Emily freaked out when I mentioned going to the hospital.” Her words broke over a sob, then she whispered, “I think she remembers last time.” Her niece had had an extended stay in the hospital when she’d first been diagnosed. Lily’s heart sank. Her mind raced with her options.

  Pushing past James, she stuffed her feet into her tennis shoes. “I’ll meet you in the emergency room. You have to take her.” Lily heard a muffling across the line, then a loud wailing. She must have told Emily about the plans for the E.R. Her poor, sweet niece. Bending slightly, she rested her elbows on the dryer in the mudroom and covered her eyes. She held her hand under her nose. “Oh, sweetie.”

  “I can’t do this anymore,” Bethany said, the anguish in her voice palpable.

  A firm hand settled on Lily’s back. She glanced over her shoulder. James’s eyes locked on hers. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice husky with concern.

  Lily stood straight, covered the phone and explained the situation. He held out his hand and took the phone. “Bethany, it’s James O’Reilly.” Lily fought back tears as she watched James’s handsome face as he listened intently to her desperate sister. Lily’s chest expanded with gratitude. “Hang tight. Lily and I will be at your apartment in fifteen minutes.”

  Leaning against the door, Lily stared at James in disbelief as she pulled up the backs of her tennis shoes. “You don’t need to go. I can go on my own.”

  Gently touching her arm, James guided her out the door. “I want to go with you. You shouldn’t go alone.” When she didn’t answer, he added, “I have my medical bag in the trunk.”

  All the fight drained out of her, making her legs feel wobbly as they strode to the car. She didn’t question why James carried a medical bag when so few doctors did anymore. She supposed it had to do with his work at the clinic. He closed her car door and jogged around to get in his side.

  Lily focused intently on buckling her seat belt with a shaky hand, fearing her niece was having a relapse. Lily swiped away a tear, grateful for the cloak of darkness.

  * * *

  Lily found it strange these old, run-down apartments looked so different at night—cozy, even. Perhaps the glow of lights and the flicker of a television set in every window gave them a homey feel. Or maybe darkness made her forget the window frames needed paint and the roof was missing tiles.

  James found a parking spot in the back lot, near a Dumpster. He shut the engine off and turned to face her, breaking the thick, heavy, tension-filled silence. “How long ago was your niece diagnosed?”

  Lily sniffed. “Two years ago, when Emily was six years old. She had a serious setback a year ago, but mainly she’s been symptom free since then.” She pulled the door handle and the dome light popped on. The compassion in James’s brown eyes made her breath hitch.

  They walked around to the front of the apartment building without saying anything more. Voices floated out through the screens of the open apartment windows on the humid summer-evening air. The soft breeze ruffled the hair around her face. She had been in a flop sweat since receiving her sister’s frantic phone call and she counted the seconds until she laid eyes on her niece, praying it would calm her down, reassure her. She wasn’t ready to admit it, but she was grateful to have James with her. She didn’t know how objective she could be when it came to her niece.

  When they reached Bethany’s door, she was waiting for them. “Thank goodness you’re here. Emily finally fell asleep, but I’m so worried about her. A fever has never taken this long to break.” Her sister paused a minute and her eyes opened wide in surprise. “James O’Reilly all grown up.” She seemed to regard him for a minute. “I don’t think I would have recognized you.”

  James took her hand. “It’s been a long time.” Bethany had come by the O’Reilly home only a few times, resenting that their mother had to clean other people’s houses for a living.

  “I hear you have my sister working at the clinic.”

  “Yeah, I really appreciate her help.”

  “And I really appreciate your both coming over.” Bethany stepped back to let them pass. Her attention shifted to his medical bag. “Two physicians making a house call. God must be looking out for me for once.” Bethany smiled at him, a bright smile that beamed with her gratitude. The same smile that had gotten her out of Orchard Gardens at age eighteen, leaving Lily alone at age twelve with their single mother.

  Bethany led them through the small apartment to a back bedroom, walls painted pink. The furnishings and possessions were sparse, but everything was in its place. Emily’s legs were tangled in the sheets and her dark hair was plastered to her face.

  Something tugged at Lily’s heart. She had spent countless hours working in the lab, looking for a cure for this precious girl, but she hadn’t carved out a lot of time to actually spend with her. She reached out and ran the back of her hand across the child’s moist cheek.

  Was Lily shielding her heart from another loss?

  Only recently had she made time to do clinic work. Her life was out of balance. Guilt pinged her insides even as she mentally fashioned her excuse: her top priority was to make sure Emily’s future was bright. Make sure she lived a healthy, long life.

  Lily leaned over and kissed her niece’s forehead. A whiff of baby shampoo tickled her nose. Her niece’s dark lashes rested against her pale skin in the purple glow of a three-foot-tall tulip night-light. “She’s grown so much.”

  Bethany stared at her daughter. Her sister’s eyes glistened in the dim light. “She’s going into third grade. Can you believe it?”

  Lily shook her head. It seemed like only yesterday when her sister moved back to Orchard Gardens with a toddler while her sweet-talking husband moved on to the next pretty girl.

  “Do you think she’s...?” Bethany didn’t say what was on all of their minds.

  “She’ll have to go in for blood work.” Lily touched her sister’s crossed arms. “It’s going to be okay.”

  A renewed sense of urgency weighed heavily on Lily’s chest, making it difficult to draw in a deep breath. The first tingling of a full-blown panic attack bit at her fingertips as the pink walls with the princess border closed in on her. She hadn’t a moment to spare. She had to push forward with her research. James set his medical bag on the dresser next to Emily’s bed. And he wants me to take a vacation for my own safety.

  James slipped in next to Lily and sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on Emily’s forehead. The little girl moaned and muttered something in her sleep. He reached over and pulled an ear thermometer from the medical bag. “What’s her temperature?”

  Bethany’s thin shoulders shot to her ears. “I never took it. My thermometer broke. I mean, it wasn’t that long ago. I meant to replace it, but Emily has been fine for so long. It just slipped my mind. Or maybe...” Her voice grew so soft Lily had to strain to make out the words “...maybe I had deluded myself into thinking she was never going to have a relapse.” Bethany sniffed and ran the back of her hand across her nose. “When I touched her forehead she was burning up.”

  “That’s okay,” James said, compassion evident in his voice. “Do you mind if I give her an exam?”

  “Please.”

  Bethany and Lily stood quietly by as James pulled back the covers and gave little Emily a once-over. Emily moaned a few more times before settling in. This man had found his calling. He loved children. Her heart quickened as she watched James tuck a small bear next to Emily on her pillow. He smoothed her sweaty hair with his strong hand before standing.

  “The fever seems to have broken. I think she’ll rest comfortably now.” He reached into his bag and
gave Bethany a card. “Call the clinic. I want you to take her in for some blood work. There won’t be any charge.”

  A line creased Bethany’s forehead. “Is it absolutely necessary?”

  Lily wrapped her arm around her sister’s narrow shoulders and squeezed. “Everything will be okay. We have to have faith.”

  Bethany’s eyes drifted to her sleeping child. “I just couldn’t bear to find out she’s sick again.” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “I’ll take her to the clinic tomorrow.”

  James took the card from Bethany and scribbled something on the back. “Here’s my cell-phone number if you need anything or if you have any concerns. Anything.”

  Her sister smiled, her wet cheeks glistening in the dull light. “You’re not so bad for some rich kid.”

  James put the thermometer away and closed his medical bag. “So I hear.”

  Lily kissed her sister’s cheek. “We’ll let you get some rest.”

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Bethany said to James and Lily. “I really can’t.”

  James stepped into the narrow hallway. “How are you going to get to the clinic?”

  Bethany turned the business card over in her hand. “This is on a bus route, right?”

  “Yes, but I’ll pick you up so you don’t have to take Emily on a bus. It will be more comfortable for her.”

  Bethany pressed the back of her hand to her forehead as if trying to think of a reason to decline his offer. “Thank you. I hate relying on other people. But...” She hesitated a minute, obviously swallowing her pride for the benefit of her daughter. “Thank you. I am truly blessed.”

  After they squared away all the details, Lily followed James outside. “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” James turned to face her under the yellow light of the lamppost.

  “Now do you understand why I can’t run away? My research is too important.” Lily paused a minute. “Emily doesn’t have time to spare.”

  James’s eye twitched. “Regen will be on the market soon.”

  Lily shook her head. “A treatment is a wonderful start. But I’m still looking for a cure.”

  SEVEN

  Lily seemed unusually quiet as James drove her home. He didn’t bother to fill the silence. He dreaded the decision ahead of him. Undoubtedly, her emotions overrode her common sense because she refused to leave town. To go someplace safe until this lunatic was caught. It certainly didn’t help that her niece’s illness was a stark reminder of how desperately Lily wanted to find a cure.

  It was more than work for her; it was personal.

  He blinked against the headlights approaching on the darkened road. No matter what, he wouldn’t allow her to be a sitting duck. He’d have to find a way to protect her, even against her will.

  Deep down James wished he knew how to rely on God. To ask for guidance. But he didn’t. Didn’t know if it mattered anyway. His parents had been strong in their faith. They’d lived their faith. Yet they’d been snatched away in their prime in a plane crash. None of it made sense to him. Wasn’t God supposed to protect them? His headlight beams swept across two deer on the side of the road, ready to cross. He tapped the brakes, startled out of his musing.

  Lily gasped. “Deer out here make me nervous. I’m afraid of hitting one.”

  “You have to be careful.” For far more sinister reasons than the wildlife. But he kept the last thought to himself.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re driving.” She laughed quietly. “I can’t thank you enough for checking on Emily. I appreciated having the extra set of eyes. I was too emotional to examine her objectively.” Lily shifted in her seat. “I can’t believe my sister allowed her health insurance to lapse. What was she thinking?”

  James glanced over at Lily. She was staring out the window, her long brown hair flowing down her back. He shifted his attention to the road. “I’m sure she was overwhelmed when she lost her job.” He softened his tone. “I see it all the time with my patients at the clinic.”

  Lily sniffed. “I sent her checks, but I should have taken the time to see her in person.” She sniffed again. “I’ve been focused on only one thing—my research. I’m missing out on the day-to-day things. I’m missing out on Emily growing up.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. Emily knows you love her.”

  “What good is all my research if Emily’s not receiving proper care?” Defeat edged her soft voice. “I’ve been working hard, but maybe I’m going about it all wrong. Maybe I’ve lost perspective.” She slumped in her seat, covering her mouth with her hand. “Did you ever think you’d like to crawl into bed and stay there for twenty-four hours straight?”

  James laughed. “I can hardly remember the last time I got six hours straight.” Just sleeping in his own bed in the apartment above the clinic was a dream come true after years of deployment. He feared the longer he stayed in Orchard Gardens—the more comfortable he became—the less likely he’d be inclined to reenlist.

  “Why do you suppose we do this to ourselves? Other people seem content to have normal nine-to-five jobs and a life outside of work.” She sat up in her seat and tugged on the shoulder harness of her seat belt. “I spend all my time in the lab. You’re splitting your time working both at Medlink and the clinic.”

  “Are you saying you don’t have a life outside of work? You’ve never made time for a social life?” He flicked on his signal and turned into her driveway. He suspected he already knew the answer.

  “Not really.” The wistful tone of her voice made him pause. “I’m usually in the lab twenty-four-seven. You?”

  “No personal life at the moment. Unless you call making late-night house calls a social outing.” He glanced across the darkened vehicle at her. “Do you ever think you’d want more?”

  He heard her quiet laugh. “No. I made that decision when my mother died. I knew I’d dedicate my life to research.”

  “But what happens when you actually find the cure?”

  She hesitated a minute, as if she had never thought that far down the road. “I’ll find another cause, I guess. What about you?”

  “I feel sort of the same way you do. After my parents were killed, I felt like I had to continue their work, albeit in a slightly different venue. They practiced medicine as private citizens all over the world. I’ve done it through the army.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck and looked up at her darkened house. He wasn’t ready to say good-night. “Can I take you somewhere for coffee?”

  “Do you want me to never fall asleep?” She laughed, this time with a little more humor. He liked the way it sounded.

  “Don’t say I never asked.” He hid his disappointment behind a joke.

  The cottage was set back on the lot, surrounded by trees. A soft light glowed from inside the window, but the porch was dark. Unease twisted his gut. Something felt off. He’d have to try to convince her to leave. If she continued to be stubborn, he’d have to settle for the alarm system and a night outside in his car to keep an eye on the house. Maybe guilt over his lack of comfort would finally make her relent. He put the vehicle into Park and turned the key in the ignition.

  “Thanks again.” She pulled on the door handle and the dome light popped on.

  “Let me walk you to the door.” He cast a quick glance at the dark porch. “Did you turn the front light off? It was on when we left.”

  “No.” He heard the hesitancy in her voice. “Maybe there’s a short and the bulb went out.” She climbed out and poked her head back into the car. “I’ll be fine. I’ll wave to you once I get inside and turn on the alarm.” She slammed the car door.

  Despite her protest, James got out of the car and met her on the walkway leading to the front door. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I didn’t escort you to the door.” Blinking, he adjusted his eyes to the darkness. Apprehension made the h
airs on his arms stand up. Instincts from his years in the army kicked in. He scanned the property, looking for any sign of movement. The wind rustled the leaves on the trees surrounding the property. Nothing seemed out of place.

  Except for the dark porch.

  The moonlight reflected in her eyes with a hint of amusement. “No one ever accused Dr. James O’Reilly of not being a gentleman.”

  “Don’t let them start now.” He turned his attention back to the front of the cottage and the slightly overgrown landscaping. Recent events had him on edge.

  As they walked to her front door, her shoulder bumped into his arm. “Sorry.” He heard the smile in her voice.

  Reaching down, he took her hand and squeezed it briefly before letting go. “I’ll wait here and see that you get in.” James hung back on the path and Lily paused near the porch. She fumbled in her purse for keys.

  “Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, feeling more like a seventeen-year-old on a first date searching for something to say to prolong the evening rather than a thirty-five-year-old physician seeing a friend safely home. A friend. He put his hands in his pockets and rolled on the balls of his feet. A soft breeze rustled the leaves on the trees.

  Keys jangling in hand, she climbed the wooden steps, the old slats creaking under her weight. She froze and a quiet gasp cut through the night air. In two strides, he was next to her. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back. A dark spot, a lump, in the center of the porch came into focus.

  “What is that?” she whispered, a quiet tremble in her voice.

  He squinted into the darkness and the lump took shape. “It looks like a—” he leaned closer “—rat.” James tightened his grip on her waist. “You okay?”

  “Just great.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm. She pulled away from him. Stepping over the rat, she jammed her key into the lock. Pushing open the door, she reached around the corner. The click, click, click of the light switch was met with more darkness. “Porch light is burned out again.” Moving into the foyer, she flipped on the hall light. The interior light spilled outside, illuminating a ghastly scene: a poor rat, its head at an awkward, gruesome angle.