Dead On Arrival

Nineteen

After my “find” at ER Dano’s house, and knowing he was physically all right-after he insisted as much-I had showered, dressed and headed off to work, where the first thing I did, even before my morning tea, was to seek out Jagger. I found him sipping his coffee in the parking lot.

Jagger leaned back on the hood of his SUV. When I told him about my discovery and that I had been there to nurse Dano, he said, “Interesting.”

“Interesting? That’s all you’ve got? Interesting?” I leaned against the fender, as my lack of sleep was already taking a toll on me. “Come on, Jagger. Obviously ER Dano is involved. He was hiding evidence in his kitchen cabinets!” And damn, how I hated that. I mean the sex was great (great!) and I really cared for him-however, those words would never pass my lips to Jagger’s ears.

“If you talk a bit louder, all the employees will be able to hear,” he said.

I curled my lips. “I’m just so pissed.” I was really pissed at fate. Here I find a hot guy I liked, who seemed to like me, and he’s a criminal. I looked up to the clouds and shook my head. Saint Theresa must have been very busy last night and my “needs” didn’t qualify for prayer answering.

Jagger said, “Look, you don’t have any proof of why they were there. We need that.”

I bit my lips. “Are you saying you don’t think Dano is guilty? That he’s not covering up the fraud?” Please. Please say it because I believe whatever you say since it’s always true.

But Jagger merely responded, “I’m saying we need proof. Can’t close a case on assumptions. Right ones or wrong ones.” He looked past me. “Here he comes now. You’ll need to get into his house again tonight and find out more. I’ll go with you.”

“No!” I said way too loudly. He glared at me. “No need. I can handle Dano. You maybe should go see if Pansy’s any more alert.”

Suddenly I wished I could have swallowed those words.

Had I really just given Jagger an assignment? An order? Or something close to being an order?

Yikes!

He looked at me, got up off the car and walked away.

I watched his butt moving from side to side as he swaggered off, and I didn’t even get hot. Okay, I did get a wee bit warm.

I had way too much on my mind between fraud and getting back to ER Dano’s house, where who knew what would happen…again.

I hoped to hell that I wouldn’t get hot at some inopportune time.

Heading for the entrance I wondered if Jagger had agreed to my “order,” or would he show up tonight?

Dano smiled at me as we poured ourselves the usual morning drinks. The tea bags at TLC always tasted a bit stale, but I chalked that up to cheap management.

“Any word on Pansy?” I asked Dano.

He shook his head and winced.

“You shouldn’t move like that.” I sipped my tea and then I winced. Really stale.

“Damn it. I’m fine. Just the external shit hurts when I move too much. No mental problems, Nightingale.” He leaned closer. “But thanks for last night,” he said way too loudly.

Everyone in the room gave a collective stare!

I muttered, “Last night…we…Dano…ER Dano…Dan…I…” After a fast sip, which now tasted delicious, I said firmly, “You all know I had to wake him up to check his pupils and sanity.” I turned to walk out of the room and over my shoulder said, “That last part is still in question.”

The room roared.

As I reached the door I heard Dano growl-in an amazingly sensual way.

In order to get away from the embarrassment, I had headed for Lilla’s desk.

She sat there filing her nails, and I knew that all her work was already done and now her day would consist of answering the phone, directing visitors and snooping. Lilla was a dream!

“Hey,” I said, sitting down opposite her. “What’s going on?”

“Morning, chéri.” She leaned closer and smiled. Very sexy, but I knew it wasn’t as if she were flirting with me. Nope. It was more as if she knew something.

“What? What’s going on? You have some info?” I set my tea on the edge of her desk.

“No, but you do.”

“Hmm? What do you mean, Lilla?”

With her sexy smile switching to a sexy grin, she whispered, “I see you have made love.”

I blinked. Had to. Maybe her accent was confusing me, so I chuckled. “This is funny. I thought you just said I’d had sex-”

Waving a bright red polished handful of long nails in the air, she said, “You heard correctly, my chéri. Which one?”

“Huh?”

“Dano or Jagger?”

I choked on nothing. My hands, sans any long nails or bordello polish, flailed in the air, sending my tea mug spilling over. “Geez! Sorry!”

Lilla laughed, pulled several tissues from her container and said, “Relax. It only shows to women like moi, who are astute in those matters.”

“Oh, yeah. That makes me feel much better.” I took some tissue and wiped the desk. Luckily the mug had only been half full and there were no papers nearby to get soaked. The closest one only got a beige splash of a stain. “Sorry.” I picked it up and couldn’t help but glance at it. Oh, boy. I was correct.

Dano had a similar run sheet to this one-only a few of the medication charges were different-and I could swear the date, times and names were the same. I explained what I’d found to Lilla, and she showed me all the papers that recently had come in to be filed.

One more was the same. Identical information except for the final numbers-so one had to have been doctored.

“I have to go back to Dano’s tonight-”

Before I could finish, Lilla was up and wiping vigorously at my scrub’s top, which wasn’t even wet.

“What are you-” I asked.

“Don’t worry, chéri, that will come out. You use some…”

I know she kept talking, kinda wildly actually, but then I looked up to see a reflection in the glass partition behind Lilla’s desk.

“That’d be okay with Dano,” ER Dano said, standing behind me, “but he wonders what for.”

Oh, no! I smiled, Lilla wiped and then I said, “We had a date, silly, or did you forget?”

Thank goodness for Lilla’s fast actions and my quick mind!

I slowly turned around, pushed Lilla’s hand away because she was so flustered she kept wiping at nothing, and I didn’t want Dano to notice. “Oh, hey. I’ll bring dinner. How’s that? Sure. I’ll bring the eats.”

That implied I’d cook it, but before I could clarify it’d be takeout, Dano agreed and hurried past us.

I flopped backward in my chair and said, “I have to call my mother to make my dinner.”

Lilla laughed, but I wasn’t feeling very jovial.

I sat in the back of #456 while Buzz drove at top speed. Premature labor. That was the call, and I prayed the baby would calm down and decide a Friday was not a good day to be born. Specifically this Friday.

At least I’d had some time to call Stella Sokol before we got the call. It took several minutes to clarify that I didn’t have time to stay and eat, but would she make me a take-out dinner for two? Mom made the same menu on the same day of the week forever. Even before I was born. That’s how far back forever went.

Since today was Friday, my mother was making potato pancakes. Not exactly a sensual gourmet aphrodisiac.

I looked up toward the window between the cab and the back of the ambulance and noticed Dano’s hair just about touching his neckline. Damn. He looked hot even from the back.

I really wished he wasn’t involved in the fraud or…gulp…the stabbings.

Relying on gut instinct had gotten me through years of nursing and saving lives. Right now my gut said Dano wasn’t involved. I decided I’d be looking for evidence to clear his name instead of convicting him.

And besides my gut-I had Jagger.

If he’d thought Dano was guilty or a threat, he wouldn’t let me go in alone. I’d convinced myself of that.

So, if he thought so, it would be revealed tonight, if Jagger showed up.

Dano had joined me in the back of the ambulance, since the patient really did appear to be in labor. Her husband was at work, so before we left, I had called him to tell him to meet us at Saint Greg’s while Dano and Buzz worked on Angie in her living room. We’d called the ER, gotten orders from Dr. Pringle and were now following them as best we could.

However, I knew these little ones could have a mind of their own.

Dano adjusted the IV while Buzz pulled the ambulance out of the parking lot of the condo complex where the woman, Angie, lived.

Her eyes glistened with tears as she looked up at Dano and asked, “Is my baby…my baby going to-”

Dano touched her arm. “Naw. I’m taking over. This kid is going to stop running the show and let us pros call the shots from now on.”

Tears formed in my eyes. Not only did the gruff, burned-out paramedic do his medical treatments to perfection, but also, when push came to shove, his bedside manner adjusted to meet the needs of, and to calm and relax, the patients. I could still hear the ER nurses fawning over how he always put in the IV with a saline lock, his paperwork was always in order and he taped the IV with a “V” shaped piece of tape-all of which made their jobs easier.

What a guy.

He couldn’t be involved. Just couldn’t be.

Angie smiled, and then grimaced. “Oh. Oh. Oh, God.”

“What?” Dano asked, feeling her abdomen and listening to the fetal heartbeat. He turned his head to the side, so she couldn’t hear, and cursed. “What is it, Angie?”

“I think, well, I’ve never had a baby before, but I think my water broke.”

Dano and I looked at each other. I’m sure a similar curse word came to both of our minds, but we held back.

Dano banged on the window to Buzz. “Step on it!”

“Right, boss,” he said, and swerved so hard, I toppled into Dano’s shoulder.

But neither of us could say a thing because, with Dano’s hand still on Angie’s abdomen, and with her facial expression, I knew she was heavily contracting.

Just like I knew this baby was going to be born today-soon.

“Hold on, honey.” Dano assured Angie.

She looked from him to me and said, “I can’t.”

Dano kept talking softly to her, getting her to pant through contractions so she wouldn’t push, and checking the fetal heartbeat.

I examined her to see if there was any sign of the baby and looked up at Dano.

“Black hair,” I said so only he could hear. “I see a bit of head crowning.”

“Shit,” he mouthed and before I knew it, he was banging on the window ordering Buzz Lightyear to pull over to the side of the road.

And then the fun began.

Buzz hurried to the back of the ambulance, but it proved to be too close quarters for him to get near Angie too. Besides, Dano said there wasn’t anything for him to do other than radio the hospital and be the go-between.

At first Buzz looked pissed. I guessed he wanted in on the excitement of a delivery, but since I’d worked OB for many years, Dano kept me assisting.

I followed his instructions of what to grab from where. Although I’d been in delivery for hundreds of babies, I didn’t know the setup of the ambulance well enough yet, and this little one might be way too little without any NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) equipment or staff here.

The only thing going for us was that Angie’s abdomen was a good size, so I silently prayed her calculated date wasn’t correct, and the baby would have already developed lungs enough to survive.

Please, Saint Theresa.

“Angie,” I asked, “who is your doctor?”

“Greenberg,” she managed through heavy breaths.

I wrinkled my forehead and looked at Dano. Dr. Greenberg was a general practitioner and not even in a family practice business. “I mean your OB doctor, hon. Who has been seeing you since you became pregnant?”

Angie’s eyes spilled over. “My husband lost his job and we didn’t have any insurance. We couldn’t afford it. So-”

I patted her hand. “No problem. This little one is going to be fine,” I lied. Geez. She didn’t have any prenatal care, went into premature labor (maybe) and couldn’t afford the impending hospital bills or this ambulance ride to boot.

Damn insurance again.

Buzz had stayed outside the back door to direct traffic away and prevent rubbernecking. He’d pulled the ambulance into a scenic overlook off the highway, but cars still slowed when they noticed us. Every once in a while he’d come to the door and ask how things were going until Dano growled at him that we’d let him know when we needed to.

Angie began to scream.

Dano lifted the blankets from her, and we both looked to see the black hair very obvious now. I thought the head looked much bigger than a preemie’s and again hoped Angie had been wrong on her due date.

“It looks a decent size,” I whispered to him, close to his ear as a matter of fact, since Angie was now in such pain and yelling.

“Let’s hope,” he added.

Dano explained to Angie that we couldn’t give her anything for pain and instructed her again on breathing. I stuck on a pair of rubber gloves and assisted Dano as he told me what to do.

Even though I handled emergencies very well, he had a way of calming me, and thank goodness it also worked on Angie. Her hysteria turned into compliance and she followed his instructions.

“I want my baby to live,” she repeated several times.

I winked at her. “It will. Don’t worry. Just do as we say and things will be fine.”

I looked down to see Dano grimace and wondered if his head hurt. Then I noticed the baby’s head was out-and the cord wrapped tightly around its neck.

Damn!

“Don’t push,” he ordered, and the seriousness in his voice had Angie panting instead.

“Good girl. That’s right. Don’t push right now,” I kept saying until Dano had the cord eased off from around the baby’s neck after several tugs.

“It has lots of black hair, Angie.” I smiled at her. “Does your husband have black hair?” I asked, to keep her mind off of things.

Dano gave some information to Buzz to tell the ER while I made small talk with Angie to keep her from listening.

“Push!” Dano ordered.

I got close to her ear and guided her through every step. ER Dano, Angie and I worked as a well-oiled machine (he just couldn’t be involved in the fraud or stabbings) until the pain became too much for Angie.

“I can’t!” she cried out several times.

Dano leaned over and looked her in the eye. “Stop that!” he ordered, like a verbal slap.

And Angie stopped.

Then he told her what to do, and I placed her hand on the railing of the stretcher so she could squeeze. I’d remembered from my nursing days that you never let a patient hold your hand when they were in pain because they could break your fingers.

By the grip Angie had on the railing, I was glad I’d remembered that.

Dano told her when to push and when to stop.

“You’re doing great,” I’d add and I looked to see Dano, pulling and tugging one shoulder and then the other until the baby came out in a whoosh of amniotic fluid.

He wasn’t any preemie was my first thought, and Thank you, God, my second.

“It’s a boy,” Dano said in a very matter-of-fact tone.

At first I was disappointed that he wasn’t more excited, but-the baby hadn’t made a sound.

Dano was yelling at Buzz to tell the ER things.

I kept talking to Angie so she wouldn’t hear, but I heard.

Cyanotic. That dusky bluish-gray color. Dano had said the baby was cyanotic. By now he should have taken a few breaths and pinked up. “Apgar, four,” he said as he grabbed the blue bulb syringe and started to suction out the baby’s mouth.

Four. Not good, with ten being the best on the scale that measured a newborn’s condition at birth, but it was only the first scoring, at the one-minute point.

I held an oxygen mask near the baby’s face as Dano worked on him. It seemed like hours although it was only a few minutes. He suctioned so much amniotic fluid out of the baby’s mouth that I wondered if this little one really would make it.

Angie started screaming that she didn’t hear the baby.

I kept trying to reassure her, and Dano suctioned the baby, held him downward and ran his finger along the baby’s foot until he let out a sound.

A sound!

The baby started to make occasional whimpers, although still a bit weak, but with the oxygen and Dano’s treatments, the little boy soon really started to cry.

Angie broke out into tears and Dano wrapped the baby up and held him out to his mother. She took him and held him while the placenta was delivered, and before we knew it, we were on our way after informing the ER that the baby now had an Apgar of seven.

Dano and I sat next to Angie and son, exhausted and exhilarated.

“Birth is just amazing,” came out of my mouth before I realized that I’d spoken my thoughts out loud.

Dano reached over and took my hand into his. “You did good, Nightingale. Real good.”

I turned and saw something in his eyes that I really couldn’t identify, yet in that instant I knew, just knew-that ER Dano was not guilty of anything except being a super grouch-but a hot, sexy one.

And being a grouch was not illegal.