Daddy's Gone a Hunting

10

Dr. Ravi Patel gave no sign that he had heard Doug Connelly’s shocking outburst. Instead, ignoring Doug, he addressed Hannah. “Ms. Connelly, as I told you before we operated on your sister, she has a severe head injury and brain swelling. At this point we cannot know if she has suffered any permanent brain damage, and we won’t know that until she comes out of the coma, which could be in a few days, or a month.”

Her throat dry, her lips barely forming the words, Hannah asked, “Then you think she is going to live?”

“The first twenty-four hours are crucial. I would certainly say that you do not have to wait here. You’re better off getting some rest yourself. I promise if there is any change I will-”

“Doctor, I want the best possible care for my daughter,” Doug interrupted. “I want a consultation and private nurses.”

“Mr. Connelly, Kate is in the intensive care unit. Later you may want private nurses, but now is not the time. Of course I will be happy to consult with any doctor you choose about her condition.” Dr. Patel turned back to Hannah and verified her cell phone number. Then, with understanding in his eyes and manner, he said, “If Kate makes it through the next few days, she may have a long road to recovery. The best thing you can do is to begin to preserve your own strength.”

Hannah nodded. “Can I see her?”

“You can certainly look in on her.”

Doug took Hannah’s arm as they followed the doctor out of the waiting room. “Nothing’s going to happen to her,” he said in a low voice. “Kate’s tough. She’ll come through this better than ever.”

If she doesn’t get arrested for arson and possibly even murder, Hannah thought. By now her anger at her father had faded into a kind of resignation. He certainly could not have anticipated that Dr. Patel would walk into the room just as he blurted out Kate’s comment.

At the end of the long corridor Dr. Patel pushed the button for the heavy doors that opened into the intensive care unit. “Be prepared,” he told them. “Kate’s head is bandaged. She’s on a breathing tube and has all kinds of wires attached to her.”

Even with that warning Hannah was shocked to see the still figure of her sister on the bed. I guess I have to take Dr. Patel’s word for it that it’s Kate, she thought as she searched for anything that would help her recognize her. The hands on the bed were totally bandaged, and she remembered that when she first arrived at the hospital she had been told that Kate had suffered second-degree burns to her hands. The breathing tube covered most of her face, and there was no hint of Kate’s blond hair escaping from the wrappings around her head.

Hannah bent down and kissed her sister’s forehead. Was it Hannah’s imagination, or could she detect a faint scent of the perfume Kate always wore? “I love you,” Hannah whispered. “Don’t leave me, Kate.” She almost added, “You’re all I’ve got,” but managed not to say it.

Even though it’s true, she thought sadly. We certainly haven’t had much fathering over the years from a dad who always insisted, “Call me Doug.” She stepped back, and it was her father’s turn to lean over Kate’s bed. “My little girl,” he said, his voice trembling, “You’ve got to get better. You can’t let us down.”

With a final glance at Kate, they turned to go. At the door of the recovery room Dr. Patel once again promised to call if there was any change in Kate’s condition.

At one thirty, when they were about to leave the hospital, to forestall any suggestion of having lunch Hannah said, “Dad, I’m going to the office. There are a few things I should do, and I’m much better off being busy than sitting home.”

When they stepped onto the street, they found a media crush awaiting them.

“What is Kate Connelly’s condition?” reporters demanded to know. “Why was she in the museum with Gus Schmidt at that hour of the morning? Did she tell you she was going there?”

“My daughter’s condition is very serious. Please respect our privacy.” A cab was dropping someone off at the curb. His arm around Hannah, Doug forced their way through the crowd and pushed Hannah into the backseat. He jumped in himself and pulled the door shut. “Get going,” he snapped to the driver.

“My God!” Hannah exclaimed. “They’re like a pack of vultures!”

“It’s only the beginning,” Douglas Connelly said grimly. “It’s only the beginning.”