11
Work in the morning feels exhausting, and it’s because we didn’t get back to the garage until two hours ago. Birdie never returned but I heard her come into the house while I was getting ready and she slammed her bedroom door so they all knew she was home.
The paperwork I’m trying to get through feels endless and every time I pause to catch my breath I hear him in the back of my mind. A loveless marriage. Koa loved me until the day he died, Riggs is full of shit and talking from a place of resentment, not knowledge.
“You hear that Marla is taking a couple of days off because of that idiot in three-nineteen?” One of the morning shift girls came around to the nurses’ station talking to a doctor as she flipped through a chart. “I’ve never heard a guy complain so much while bleeding out.”
“Marla should have let him. He didn’t even leave his real name. Insurance is going to have a field day.” The doctor sighs. “Morning Cress,” He looks up from what he’s doing and excuses himself from the station.
“What happened?” I ask, digging for the information mostly because I’m nosy and it’s a decent distraction from everything else going on.
“Some jackass came in bleeding out from a stab wound, and before we could get him stitched up he all but assaulted Mar, and then took off before we could even finish.” She groans, and stares down the hall at the room like the guy was still inside.
“It was a stab wound?” I’m stuck on that detail.
I stabbed him. People get stabbed all the time in Phoenix.
But… he came here, they had a parking pass.
My heart is in my throat and I feel like I can’t breathe.
He could have told them who did it. If it was him, we have no idea if the incidents are the same.
Don’t panic. My life could have been over in seconds.
It was survival.
At least that’s what I tell myself as she yammers on.
“Yeah, left side.”
I can see his face so clearly in my mind, the agony that I caused and my stomach churns violently.
“The beauty of it is that if he had left it in, it would have been an easy fix. Whoever stabbed him missed anything vital…” She shrugs and grabs a few folders to start assisting with rounds.
“You said three-nineteen?”
She nods, backing away.
The second I’m alone with the computer I bring up the information from the other night.
We live in a violent city, and the chance that this stab victim is the same as mine is low—but not impossible.
Checking will either make me feel much better, or much worse.
I start to click away on the computer, trying to see if they ran any tests on him before he disappeared but can’t find much other than the fake name he gave and a few charts that are mostly indistinguishable from any other stab wound I’ve seen.
“What would Murphy do?” I chew on my lip. “Hacking the hospital system is a little above my pay grade… Alright. What would Koa do?” I look at my surroundings and my eyes land on the camera at the end of the hallway, pointed toward three nineteen.
I can go in there, check it out. But it’s been a few days, it’s clean and… I look at the log, and it has a patient in it for an emergency appendix removal.
“Nickie!” I whisper, the thought hitting me suddenly. I close out and push out of the chair to make my way down to the security room. I stop to grab a donut and coffee for him before knocking on the door.
After a couple seconds he lets me in, “Hey Cress!”
Nickie is a sweet old man with an even sweeter tooth and a love for good conversation. He’s been with the hospital since before I was even a nursing student. Walks to work every morning, knows everyone's names, and keeps everyone safe by sitting at his computers all shift.
“Donuts? You must need something.” He clocks me immediately.
“Just some information for an incident report. Think you can help me out?” I ask with a smile and he invites me inside.
“What date?” he asks, moving back toward his desk with a smile, “and what am I looking for?”
“Two nights ago, we had a guy come in, agitated, bleeding from a stab wound. Marla Waiters was his nurse. He attacked her before fleeing the hospital. I’m just looking for some video maybe? If the camera at the end of the hall caught it? We just need to confirm it was him with her report.”
He takes a bite of his donut and I hand him a napkin as he moves his mouse around to start looking for it. “Here it is.” He points with the final piece of it. “Four forty in the morning,” he says.
It’s him, alright. I’ve seen his ugly face in every nightmare I’ve had. Over and over, the sound of his voice when the knife sank into his shoulder. The threats, the violence, the destruction. I swallow the vomit that rises in my throat.
“You alright? Looks like you’re gonna be sick,” he says and I inhale slowly.
“I’m okay. That’s perfect, Nickie. Can I take a video?” I ask, pulling out my phone.
“Better yet, I can email you the clip, how does that sound?” He clicks around slowly on the screen when I nod yes. My phone dings and I lean down to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“You’re too good to me. You really saved my behind with this one!” I say to him as I’m backing away, “double donuts next time!”
I wander back up to where I’m supposed to be and return to my desk. The rest of the shift is quiet and I watch the video on repeat for hours, his face haunts me and makes me nauseous but I have it now.
Driving over to the house after work takes me less time than normal, and maybe it’s because my foot feels heavy on the gas pedal, but I’ll never admit that to anyone.
Murphy is at his desk in the garage, bouncing a sucker around between his cheeks when I show up.
He’s wearing a baggy West Coast Choppers sweater and his hair is unbrushed around his concentrated face.
“Here,” I say, dropping the phone on the desk with a smile.
“Damn look at you go, Cress.” He pops the sucker out of his mouth and smirks, pushing his glasses up with the back of his hand. “Our little criminal in the making, how did you get your hands on this?” Murphy examines it as it hits his inbox. “It doesn't even have a trace-back on the IP.”
“I asked for it?” I shrug and this makes him laugh. “Oh! I bribed an old man with a donut.”
“Next time lie and say something cool.” He shakes his head. “And how come I don’t get bribed with donuts?”
“Can it help?” I ask him, ignoring his pout.
“It’s definitely a clearer shot of his face, and it’s comforting, we know he’s alive now.” He looks up at me as Birdie slams into the garage.
“Why is that comforting?” I ask nervously.
“It means you don’t have a blood debt on your hands, if he’s not dead… they aren’t as pissed off,” he explains quickly.
“Good. Now we can find him, and I kill him.” Birdie chucks two paint cans on the bench beside her and cleans her hands on her black overalls.
I swallow tightly and she wanders closer, hanging herself over Murphy to stare at his screen. “Hell yeah.” She steals the sucker from him and ruffles up his hair with her hands. “I know exactly where to find that asshole.”
“What?” I look at her.
“I’ve seen him before, I’d never forget a man that ugly,” Birdie snorts. “He’s always downtown at that EDM joint.”
“Soundwave?” Murphy turns in his chair to watch her walk away.
“We could go?” Birdie fiddles with a knife in her hands as she leans against the bench behind her. “I could use a gin to go with my blood lust.”
“Is that a good idea? Rafe and Riggs are gone to Tucson to get some specialty part.” Murphy stares at her and I can see them sharing the same thought.
“Not our problem,” Birdie hums, pointing the knife in his direction.
“No one will be here to stay with Cress,” he tells her.
“I’m thirty-five and don’t need to be babysat.” I clear my throat.
“Riggs will flip and that’s not a fight I ever want to pick.” Murphy swallows his nerves as Birdie moves back toward us.
“He doesn’t have to know. We’re just going out for drinks,” she says, leaning over Murphy and closing the video. “I want to dance. If some asshole winds up dead, it’s not my fault unless you’re snitches…”
“Bird.” His voice drops. “It’s a bad idea.”
“It’s the best idea I’ve had all week. And I’m not sitting around pretending like we need to be protected.” She uses the arm rests to get in his face and he leans back in his chair to stare at her. “He taught us how to do it ourselves. He doesn’t get to tell us when to use those skills.”
“If he finds out,” Murphy sighs.
“I’ll deal with it. I want that asshole off our list,” Birdie pushes and I can see Murphy cracking under her convincing. “Please, Murph!”
The whine does him in, and he nods. “Call Jesse. I’m not going into this with just me to have your back and if shit goes sideways.” He looks at me. “Which it will.” He returns to Birdie’s stare. “I want someone to be able to get Cress out of there.”
“Fine, Jesse can come. It’ll be a party.” Birdie giggles. Her smile turns vicious and she spins the chair he’s sitting in before backing away. “You can’t wear that,” she says to me. “Come on.