Книга - Grievous Sin

Grievous Sin
Faye Kellerman


The sixth book in the hugely popular Peter Decker and Rina Lazarus series from New York Times bestselling author Faye KellermanThe birth of their baby girl has filled Rina Lazarus and her husband, LAPD Homicide Detective Peter Decker, with joy mingled with sorrow, since complications have ensured that they can have no more children. But the situation is grim at the hospital, which has been devastated by severe budget cutbacks and staff shortages. And when a respected nurse vanishes along with a newborn from the nursery, Peter and Rina fear for the safety of their own precious child—especially when the missing nurse’s car is found at the bottom of a cliff … with a corpse inside.A most grievous sin has been committed. In pursuit of justice, Decker—with the help of his tough-as-nails partner, Madge, and an able assist from his teenage daughter Cindy—follows a twisted path that winds through a sinister maze of hospital politics, misplaced passions, and torturous mind games that can all too easily lead to murder.









FAYE KELLERMAN

GRIEVOUS SIN

A PETER DECKER/RINA LAZARUS NOVEL








For Jonathan

For the Three Musketeers—Jess, Rachel, and Ilana

And for my D’Artagnan—Aliza Celeste


Contents

Cover (#ue20b71ee-9a0f-5483-9660-d636706ecb6b)

Title Page (#u3efc5b9e-66ff-5d26-bf28-c3060f5cb9e8)

Dedication (#u9628a7a8-f682-5157-84e7-e2642a3b72af)



Chapter 1



Chapter 2



Chapter 3



Chapter 4



Chapter 5



Chapter 6



Chapter 7



Chapter 8



Chapter 9



Chapter 10



Chapter 11



Chapter 12



Chapter 13



Chapter 14



Chapter 15



Chapter 16



Chapter 17



Chapter 18



Chapter 19



Chapter 20



Chapter 21



Chapter 22



Chapter 23



Chapter 24



Chapter 25



Chapter 26



Chapter 27



Chapter 28



Chapter 29



Chapter 30



Chapter 31



Chapter 32



Chapter 33



Chapter 34



Chapter 35



Chapter 36



Chapter 37



Chapter 38



Acknowledgments



About the Author



Also by Faye Kellerman

Predator (#litres_trial_promo)



Copyright



About the Publisher




1 (#ulink_6874924b-f0f3-5bac-80c9-b1a1f51a9d9d)


Her first sound was more bleat than wail, but she had ten fingers and ten toes, and that was all Decker cared about. Wrinkled and red, her skin covered with something akin to cold cream, she seemed perturbed by the world rather than scared by it. Decker watched as Georgina, the labor nurse, scooped his daughter from the obstetrician’s arms into her own. After rubbing the infant with a towel and giving her a quick exam, the nurse swaddled her in a blanket. The baby was finally presented to Papa for inspection.

She had a mottled face, her nose scrunching as she beeped rather than cried. Her eyes were closed, lids as thin as onion-skin. Downy fuzz covered her scalp. Decker took a gloved index finger and placed it on a tiny palm. Slowly, soft pink digits encircled his finger. It brought tears to his eyes.

“Is she okay?” Rina’s voice was anxious.

“She’s perfect, darlin’,” Decker answered. “Just … perfect.”

“Of course she’s perfect!” Georgina folded thick arms across her bosom. “We only deliver perfect babies here.”

Decker shifted his attention from his daughter to his wife. Rina’s eyes were red-rimmed, her lips moving in silent prayer. Damp black tresses lay across her forehead. Never had she looked so beautiful.

“She’s perfect, Rina.” Decker’s throat was clogged. “Just like you.”

Rina gave him a weak smile, and Decker suddenly became aware of her exhaustion. But he knew such fatigue was normal after childbirth.

“You did great, Madame Decker!” Georgina’s stubby finger stroked Rina’s arm. “Just hang in a little bit more, and then you take that much deserved nap.”

“Close your eyes, Rina,” Decker said.

She nodded as her lids fell shut. Then she jerked them open and started breathing rapidly.

“Everything okay, Dr. Hendricks?” Decker asked.

“So far,” the obstetrician answered. “She’s expelling the afterbirth now. The contractions won’t go away until she does.”

Then Rina stopped panting as suddenly as she’d started. Decker watched Hendricks as he tended to Rina. Most of the doctor’s face was hidden behind the surgical mask, but his eyes were visible and clouded with concentration. He placed his palms on her abdomen and pushed down. “Rina, do you feel strong enough to nurse the baby?”

Rina whispered yes. So frail.

“That’s great, doll,” Hendricks said. “Let Nature help us along.”

“Help with what?” Decker asked.

The doctor didn’t answer. Georgina took the baby from Decker’s arms and placed her on Rina’s chest. Cradling the infant, Rina watched a little wet mouth bob along her breast until it found the nipple. With a little encouragement, the baby pursed her lips and began to suckle.

Rina closed her eyes again, beads of sweat dotting her brow. At the bedside, Decker dabbed her face with a washcloth. He glanced around the labor room, taking in the surroundings for the first time. The place was papered in a chintz print—some sort of small vining flower. A handloomed rug had been thrown over an institutional tiled floor. The hospital bed was framed in wood, stained to match the wicker of a Sydney Greenstreet chair planted across the room. The homey decor was supposed to give the illusion that the woman was giving birth in her bedroom. But Decker couldn’t block out all the medical machinery standing idle against the wall, the I.V. stand tucked into the left-hand corner.

Definitely a hospital.

He had been there for nineteen hours that had somehow been compressed into minutes. Now time was moving in slomo. The hands of the wall clock showed him only ten minutes had passed since his daughter had been born. The baby was still sucking on Rina’s breast, but her eyes were closed—nursing in her sleep. Pink heart-shaped lips working Mama’s nipple as thread-sized veins pulsed in her temple. Decker knew he was biased, but she was a beautiful baby.

His eyes drifted to Rina’s face. Her lips were pale and parched.

“Can Rina have something to drink?” he asked.

“Not quite yet,” Hendricks said, talking under his mask. Once more he pressed on Rina’s stomach.

“Can she at least suck on some ice?”

This time the doctor didn’t answer. Decker felt a headache coming on. Maybe he was just hungry—ten hours since he’d last eaten. Again Rina went into her Lamaze breathing. Decker held her hand, offered words of encouragement. Before the arrival of the doctor, he’d felt particularly needed. Now he was an appendage—useful but not indispensable. Rina stopped her labored breathing and wearily closed her eyes. Her voice was a whisper.

“I’m very tired.”

“I bet you are,” Hendricks said. “How about we give you a rest? Georgina, put the baby in the incubator and wheel her into Infant Recovery.” He looked at Decker, and smile lines appeared at the corners of his eyes. “You’ve got a beautiful, healthy daughter, folks. She shouldn’t be in Recovery more than an hour or so. Then they’ll move her to the nursery and you’ll be able to show her off to the family.”

“That’d be nice,” said Decker, smiling.

“Grandparents all excited?” Hendricks asked.

“Yeah, they haven’t held a newborn in a while.”

Neither had he, he thought. Nineteen years. My God, it seemed like yesterday since Cindy was born. And then, sometimes, it seemed like a thousand years. Georgina loaded the baby in the incubator. “Be back in a minute.”

Decker nodded, and the room turned quiet. Rina’s eyes were closed, her mouth slightly agape. Decker wanted to tell her how much he loved her, but he didn’t want to disturb her rest. A few minutes later, Georgina returned. She placed a hand on Decker’s shoulder.

“How’re you holding up, Pop?”

“Not too bad for an old guy,” Decker said. “Mom’s resting.”

“Yeah, she needs some peace and quiet.”

Hendricks said, “Georgina, set up a twenty-milligram Pitocin drip, please.”

Anxiously, Decker looked up at the labor nurse. She flashed him a smile of crooked teeth, but the expression wasn’t cheery. Then she liberated the metal stand from the corner and opened a cabinet door. Out came a plastic bottle that hung on a rack. Georgina hooked the I.V. line up to Rina’s left arm, then adjusted some valves. A moment later, Decker saw clear liquid run through plastic tubing. Again the doctor pushed on Rina’s abdomen. A soft moan escaped from her lips as she attempted to control her breathing. But fatigue was taking its toll. She cried out. Decker looked at Hendricks.

“I’m pushing with some pressure,” the OB said calmly. “It doesn’t feel comfortable, but it should help Mom along. Georgina, increase the rate of the drip.”

“Right away, Doctor.”

Decker didn’t like the military cadence in the labor nurse’s voice. It had gone from jocular to professional. He felt his heart race.

“Is everything okay, Doctor?”

“She’s having a bit of trouble expelling the placenta.” Hendricks paused. “I can feel it, but … the Pitocin should help. Does it hurt, honey?”

Again Rina nodded.

“Honey, I need to keep pressing on your uterus. Just keep on with your Lamaze breathing.” He turned to Decker. “Just help her like you did in labor.”

The doctor compressed her stomach wall. Rina’s face contorted with pain.

“Try to breathe, Rina,” Hendricks said.

“I can’t—”

“Breathe, Rina,” Decker said. “Squeeze my hand if it hurts.”

Rina took his hand. Her fingers held no strength, and her complexion had become wan. Hendricks clucked his tongue and shook his head. Decker felt his stomach drop.

“Georgina, get a gurney and see who’s available for OB Anesthesiology,” Hendricks said. “Also, get me point two-five milligrams of Methergine and a BP cuff.”

“What’s going on, Doc?” Decker said.

Hendricks ignored him.

“What’s going on?” Decker repeated.

“In a moment, Peter.”

Decker was silent, his gut a tight, wet knot. His body ached with tension. He forced himself to rotate his head, releasing a symphony of creaks and pops from his neck. Georgina returned, carrying a metal tray with a needle on it. Hendricks took the syringe and injected the medicine into Rina’s shoulder. She didn’t even wince.

“I love you, Rina,” Decker whispered.

A nod was her answer.

A petite woman in scrubs entered the room, a gurney in tow. Hendricks pushed the gurney until it abutted Rina’s bedside.

“I’m going to move you to a delivery room, Rina,” Hendricks said. “At the count of three, I want you to slide your backside onto the gurney. Think you can do that?”

Rina moaned a yes.

On three, Rina raised her body as Hendricks and Georgina lifted her onto cold, brushed metal. Up went the side rails, Georgina locking them into place. The flaps of Rina’s hospital gown had unfolded, exposing her breasts. Decker drew them back together and wiped Rina’s forehead with the washcloth.

“Peter, I want to keep a close eye on Rina until she delivers the afterbirth,” Hendricks said. “It may take a while. At this point, it’s no emergency. But she is bleeding a tad more than I’d like to see. I’m sorry, but you won’t be able to be with her now. Don’t worry. And get some rest.”

“Why can’t I come with her?” Decker said. “I’m already suited up—”

“No, I’m going to have to insist you remain here.” Hendricks’s voice was firm and taut. “Georgina, could you please escort Sergeant Decker back to the waiting room.”

Before Decker could get words up from his throat, Rina was whisked away. He felt a sudden chill and shuddered. Pressure on his elbow—Georgina’s hand.

“This way, Sergeant.”

“Why … why is he—”

“Just like he said, Sergeant. He feels safer if she’s in a delivery room—”

“You mean an operating room.”

“Whatever.”

“Why is he taking her there? Can’t he deliver a placenta here?”

“It’s a precaution.”

“Precaution for what?” Decker shouted.

“Sergeant, would you like to come this way, please?”

“No, I would not like to come this way, please! I’d like to know what the hell is happening with my wife!”

Georgina said, “Sergeant, you know as much as I do.”

“Aw c’mon, lady, you work here. Surely, you have some inside dope!”

Georgina was quiet. Decker began to pace.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Sergeant. I understand.”

Decker trod the floor. “He said something about her bleeding. Does he mean bleeding? Or does he mean hemorrhaging?”

“Sergeant, I don’t know.”

The room became still. Decker covered his mouth and blew out air. His eyes began to burn, and he rubbed them vigorously. Georgina managed a tepid smile and placed a fleshy hand on his shoulder.

“Come.”

Decker remained rooted. “When will I know what’s going on?”

“Sergeant, I’m sure the doctor will speak to you just as soon as he can. These changes in plans happen all the time. It’s usually nothing.”

Decker bit his thumbnail. “You know, in my profession, I give that kind of bull … that kind of line all the time. I see a distraught parent whose kid is missing. I say, ‘Hey, it happens all the time. Usually, it’s nothing.’ But sometimes, it’s something.”

Georgina didn’t answer.

“Right?” Decker raised his voice. “Sometimes it is something, isn’t it?”

Georgina lowered her eyes, then looked up. “Yes, sometimes it is something, Sergeant.”

“Well, if it would be something, what …” Decker cleared his voice. “What could it be?”

“Sergeant, I’m just not qualified to diagnose your wife’s condition.”

Decker was silent.

Georgina sighed. “Sergeant, do you have any family with you?”

Family. Rina’s parents. The boys. Decker felt his knees go weak. He sank into the Sydney Greenstreet chair and ran his hands down his face. Wordlessly, Georgina handed him a glass of water. He downed the glass too quickly and felt his stomach rock with nausea. His skin felt prickly and gelid. It took him a minute to find his voice.

“They’re waiting in the lobby … my daughter, Rina’s parents …” Decker swallowed hard. “Rina’s sons, too. What should I tell them?”

“I’ll walk you out and talk to them.”

Decker shook his head. “No, it’ll scare them—the boys. Their father died about four years ago.”

“Oh dear, I’m very sorry.”

“You can understand why I don’t want to alarm them.”

“Absolutely. I didn’t realize …”

Decker stared at his empty glass. “How about a little guidance here?”

Georgina thought a moment. “Be low-key and tell them the truth. That the doctor is still with Rina but just as a precaution. She’s having a little trouble expelling the afterbirth.” She patted his hand. “I know this is going to sound a little cavalier, but you’re getting worked up over nothing, Sergeant.”

“What happens if she can’t deliver it?” Decker asked.

Georgina frowned. “You’re very persistent.”

Decker shrugged helplessly.

Georgina sighed. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, because I don’t know your wife’s individual situation—”

“But?”

“But sometimes the placenta has an obnoxious habit of sticking to the uterine wall. Sometimes to get it all out, the doctor has to go in and do a D and C. It’s done under anesthesia, and that’s probably why Dr. Hendricks wanted an anesthesiologist.”

“Oh.” Decker felt his shoulders relax a fraction. “A D and C’s kind of a routine procedure, isn’t it?”

Georgina paused. “I shouldn’t be telling you anything. Pretend we didn’t have this discussion, okay?”

“All right.” Decker blew out air. “Thanks. Really, it helps.” He ran his hand through thick ginger hair. “Is there any way you can peek in and—”

“No, Sergeant.”

Slowly, Decker rose to his feet. “I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?”

Decker nodded. Georgina gave him a bear hug.

“Now you go in there and smile. Your wife’s in very good hands. You go tell the family the good news about your new little daughter.”

His new little daughter. Decker had forgotten about her.




2 (#ulink_1a97ea26-6cf0-587e-8bd3-94ce2ca7416d)


Six pairs of beaming eyes greeted him. Even across the third-floor lobby, Decker could see their excitement and expectation. It was all he could do to keep from gagging, but that was probably him. Worried over nothing. But now he had to think of the boys. Not to mention Rina’s parents, who had already gone through hell fifty years ago. No need to set everyone in a panic over a little medical problem.

He took a deep breath, ran his hand along the surgical blue pants, and put on the smile. To make it genuine, he thought about his new little daughter. He did a slow lope across the waiting room, dodging couches and chairs upholstered in houndstooth wool and coffee tables sprouting Styrofoam cups. The room held a few lone souls reading paperbacks and checking their watches as well as one other small grouping similar to his own clan—a family expecting to hear news soon. He approached his entourage.

“Well?” his mother-in-law asked.

Her “Well” came out “Vell.” The Eliases were Hungarian. Stefan was strong and squat in contrast to Madga, who was lean. Her dress and accent reminded Decker of a dark-haired Zsa Zsa Gabor.

“A healthy little girl,” he announced.

“Ah, Akiva, mazel tov!” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Boys, you have a new little sister!”

And for a moment, Decker did feel good, caught up in the hugging and well-wishing. Sammy pumped his hand and said that a sister wasn’t the bar mitzvah present he had in mind. Jake whooped like a crane. Cindy simply slapped his back and told him “Way to go!”

It was Marge who held back. When he caught her eye, she smiled and winked at him, but Decker could feel her studying his expression. She knew: the way it is with partners. Quickly, he held a finger in the air—a sign to her not to push it. She understood.

“And how is my little Ginny?” Stefan asked. “When do we see her?”

His little Ginny, Decker thought. The Eliases called Rina by her English name, Regina. Ginny for short.

His little Ginny. His little daughter!

Remain calm, Deck.

“Akiva?” Magda asked. “Everything is okay, yes?”

Decker bit his lip. Damn it, he couldn’t keep the anxiety in check. Cut to the chase.

“Well, Magda, she has a teeny problem. She’s still with the doctor.”

Magda brought her hand to her chest and fired out a series of foreign sentences that sounded like questions.

“Magda, I don’t understand Hungarian,” Decker said.

Stefan said, “What do you mean, a problem?”

“She’s having a little trouble expelling the afterbirth. I’m sure it’s noth—”

“But she’s okay, no?” Magda interrupted. “Where is she?”

“With the doc—”

“How long will she be with him?” Magda said.

“I don’t know, Magda,” Decker said. “The doctor didn’t tell me. So why don’t we sit down and relax while we wait.”

“There’s no one we can talk to, Akiva?” Magda said.

Decker glanced at his stepsons, then shot a meaningful look at his mother-in-law. Though upset, Magda took a deep breath and smiled at the boys. Then she placed her hand over her mouth—as if her fist would muzzle her apprehension.

Decker winked at his stepsons and received scared expressions. He knew he should say something reassuring, but he was afraid that the words might sound hollow. Instead, he took a position on the arm of the couch, drawing Sammy under the wing of his right arm.

Magda paused, then perched herself on the edge of the sofa. She brushed imaginary specks off black wool pants and camel jacket. Rina had inherited her mother’s coloring—the dark hair and light eyes—but Magda was thinner, bonier, than her daughter. Stefan cuddled Jake next to his muscular chest. He was dressed in a gray shirt that matched his hair, and black pants. On his feet were orthopedic shoes. Something new, Decker realized. Cindy stood behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Decker turned around and gave her a weak smile. At nineteen, his daughter had turned into a young woman—tall, with radiance in her expressive brown eyes. Her face had lost its adolescent roundness and now had the bone structure of a newly crowned adult along with a tan from the summer sun.

Magda blurted, “Does doctor say this is a big problem?”

Decker said, “No, he was pretty casual about it. Just wanted to watch her as a precaution.”

Hell if he’d tell his mother-in-law about her daughter bleeding a tad more than Hendricks liked. And it was probably no big deal. Decker remembered his first wife having a D and C after the birth of their second child. Jan had been just fine. Unfortunately, the baby had been stillborn—a boy. Morbid, unwanted thoughts began to invade Decker’s brainspace. He tried to shake off the nightmarish memory.

“But she’s all right, my Ginny?” Stefan said.

“I’m sure she’s fine.”

“They didn’t want you with her, Akiva?” Magda asked.

“No …” Decker hesitated. “No, they wouldn’t let me stay with her. But everything’ll work out. It always does.”

The group was silent.

“Where is she now?” Stefan asked.

“They took her into a delivery room.”

“But she delivered okay?” Magda said.

“Like a trouper.” Decker stood. “Doc just wanted to watch her.”

“That’s what you’re paying him for, Pete,” Marge said.

Decker stared at his partner—the voice of reason. But he didn’t feel rational. He stood and rocked on his feet. “It happened so fast. One minute she delivered a gorgeous little girl … the next …” He caught himself. “It’s just a precaution. Don’t worry.” Again he tried a smile for the boys. “Hey, your mom’s an iron woman.”

“The doctor looked worried?” Magda said.

“Just concerned.”

“But not worried?” Magda said.

“Maybe a little worried.”

“But not a lot worried,” Magda said.

“A little, a lot,” Stefan said. “Magda, you’re driving everyone crazy.”

“I want to know.” Magda began to chide her husband in Hungarian, then stopped herself. “I worry.” She smiled at her grandsons. “You know your omah is a worrier. I worry about everything.”

Decker took his mother-in-law’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Why is she still with the doctor?” Magda asked.

“Magda, I honestly don’t know,” Decker said. “They kicked me out.”

“Is she going to be all right, Dad?”

Decker regarded Sammy—an adolescent face with eyes that held a child’s fear. As Decker searched for the right explanation, his father-in-law picked up the slack.

“Sure, she’ll be fine, Shmuli,” Stefan said. “Your eema’s a strong girl. You want something to eat?”

Sammy shook his head.

“Nu, and you, Yonkel?”

“No, thanks, Opah.”

With resolution, Stefan slapped his hands onto the pillow cushions and hoisted himself upward. “Then we go to the gift shop.” He checked his pockets. “Buy some comic books maybe. Something nice for Eema’s room. Come on, boys. Do you have a twenty, Magda?”

“It’s okay, Opah,” Sammy said. “I’ll just stay here.”

“No, you come with me, Shmuli,” Stefan said. “I don’t know what comic book you like. Only the cat who eats lasagna.”

“Garfield,” Cindy said.

“Yes, Garfield. And who is the other? With the tiger?”

“Calvin and Hobbes,” Jake answered.

“Calvin and Hobbes,” Stefan repeated. “You come, too, Yonkel.”

Slowly, the boys got up and walked over to their grandfather’s side. He tousled the boys’ hair above the napes of their necks, careful to avoid knocking off their new leather yarmulkes. Jake leaned into his grandfather’s side, but Sammy kept his distance. Hands in his pockets, eyes cast on the floor. Decker felt the onslaught of parental failure, disgusted that he couldn’t put aside his own nervousness to comfort his son.

“Thanks, Stefan,” Decker said.

Stefan patted Decker’s back softly. “You just like my wife, you worry. You think you hide it, but I can tell. I just talked to God. He tells me she’ll be fine. So relax, nu?”

Decker marveled at how well the old man coped. Was it a skill he picked up because he survived the camps, or did he survive the camps because he had the skill? Decker sometimes wondered how he would have done if he’d been forced to live through the torture. Probably would have fallen apart, if the present was any indication.

“You go down to the gift shop with your opah, boys. I’m going to try to find out what’s going on.”

Marge said, “Let me ask—”

“No, I’ll ask—”

“Pete—”

“Marge, let me handle it my way.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“That’s not neces—”

“C’mon, Pete. Let’s go.”

“Marge, maybe you should stay with Magda.”

“No, you go ahead with her, Akiva.” Magda stood and brushed off her pants. “When Stefan says God say she’ll be okay, she’ll be okay. Cindy and I maybe go see the baby.”

Cindy’s face suddenly became animated. It was wonderful to see her spontaneous burst of joy. It reminded Decker that this was supposed to be a happy occasion. “Can we really see the baby?”

“I don’t know, Cindy.” Magda hooked her arm around Cindy. “We find out.”



“You can’t go behind the double doors,” a middle-aged woman in a white uniform told them. “I’m sorry. Staff only.”

Marge took out her badge. “Police, ma’am.”

The woman backed away. “Oh … okay. I thought …”

Decker didn’t give her a chance to fill in the blank. He took off down the long corridors and didn’t stop until it dawned on him that he didn’t know where he was.

“Is this Maternity, Pete?”

“I don’t know.” He grabbed his head. “God, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I’m freaking myself out.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Margie, my stomach feels like vinegar.” He bit on the ends of his mustache. “They took her into a delivery room.”

“We can’t exactly waltz into delivery rooms making inquiries, Pete.”

“That wasn’t my intention, Marge.”

“I know. I didn’t mean to sound snide.” Marge stopped a young kid in scrubs and asked for directions to Maternity. Down the hall to the right.

Decker left without thanking the kid, forcing Marge to trot just to keep up with him. But Decker knew she was smart enough not to say anything about his behavior. The woman had picked up some salient points after working with him for six years. Decker found the set of double doors leading to the labor rooms and went inside. The flooring had gone from carpet to linoleum with geometrical designs, and felt cold under his paper-muled feet. Still gowned up, for all the nurses knew he might have been an expectant father on a coffee break instead of an interloper.

The nurses’ reception area was empty, except for a woman in blue scrubs in the back office talking to someone holding a broomstick—either a janitor or a witch. The corridor was devoid of people, which surprised him. When he’d brought Rina in, the hallway had been well populated. But that was during the daytime. It was almost nine, and most of the ancillary staff went home by five. The nighttime floor nurses must be occupied with women in labor.

Next to the nurses’ station was a lab room, its counters stocked with scopes, slides, and vials. A large industrial sink was mounted on the wall—stainless steel with a deep bowl like the ones at the morgue. The recollection made him shudder. Past the lab, down the hallway began a series of doors leading to the labor rooms. He peeked through one of the windows, feeling a little voyeuristic, and saw a woman, her bloated belly hooked up to machines, face contorted in pain. Through the closed door, he could hear panting, then an agonizing moan.

Stretches of empty pale pink corridor, the smell of antiseptics, hallways echoing feral growls—a real house of horrors. Maybe this was a nightmare. He was going to wake up any minute and find Rina safe, asleep at his side. A tap on his shoulder made him jump, reminded him this was all too real.

Georgina—her eyes on Marge.

“Excuse me, miss, but this is a restricted area.”

“I’m just accompanying Sergeant Decker. He’s wondering what’s going on with his wife.”

“I’ll be happy to help Sergeant Decker,” Georgina said. “Would you like directions out of here? It can be a maze.”

Marge nodded. Georgina directed her down the hallway and told her to follow the Exit signs. They’d lead her back to the lobby. Marge thanked her, threw Decker a sympathetic look, turned, and walked away.

Decker managed a sidelong glance at Georgina, feeling assertive and sheepish at the same time. “I was just wondering …”

Georgina took his arm. “Let’s go talk somewhere else. Hallways aren’t conducive to conversation.”

She took him inside the nurses’ station, giving him a seat at the front desk. The woman in the blue scrubs and the woman with the broomstick were still deep in conversation. There was a series of numbered monitors against the back wall, each one making audible beeps at different tempos. At least the pitch was the same. Hanging on the right wall was a blackboard with the labor rooms’ numbers, the name of the patient, doctor, and any specifics. Decker found Rina’s number. After her name was delivered, then the letters or along with the names of three doctors.

“She’s still in the operating room?” Decker asked.

“Yes, she’s being operated on,” Georgina said flatly. “I don’t know the nature or the extent of the procedure. All I know is they called in a couple of scrub nurses and an anesthesiologist. I’ll let you know more—”

“Are they doing a D and C?”

“I don’t know exactly—”

“Is she still bleeding?”

Georgina gave that all-too-telling pause. “I’m sure everything’s being done to control her situation.”

“Is she in imminent danger?”

“She’s in good hands—”

“That’s not what I asked you.” Decker stood, then felt his knees buckle. “God, I’m going to be sick.”

Georgina helped him back into the chair. She heard a high-pitched continuous beep and turned to one of the monitors. “I have to check on someone. You just sit there, okay? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Decker nodded. Head down, he watched spots of light dance on his lap. He raised his chin, felt his head swim. Catching sight of something in blue paper garb marching down the corridor, he leapt up and caught her by the arm. The woman immediately backed away. Her head was still covered by a cap, but her face mask dangled by strings around her neck like an undersized bib. Her name tag said dr. wallace.

“Are you with my wife?” Decker whispered.

The woman looked at her arm still in Decker’s clutches. “Who’s your wife?”

“Rina Decker.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”

Decker released the woman’s arm. “My God, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Decker, I understand.”

Decker regarded her eyes—intense and purposeful, but not the kind of eyes that were about to deliver tragic news. Man, he’d seen that look before.

“Your wife is being operated on—”

“I know that. How is she?”

“She’s holding, but she’s lost some blood, Mr. Decker. We already gave her a pint of her own blood. She was smart enough to donate autologously before she went into labor. But she’s going to need more—another couple of pints. Before we start with the banks, we were hoping she might have a blood relative who can donate. Matched relatives are always your best bet for good takes on transfusions.”

“Her parents are here.”

“Then let’s go test them.”

Decker started to walk, but stumbled. This time it was Dr. Wallace who caught his arm. “Do you need to sit?”

“No.” Decker cursed his weakness and commanded his legs to be steady. “She has her sons out there. I don’t want to scare them.”

“Frankly, this could scare them.”

“It’s bad?”

“Don’t panic, Mr. Decker, I just don’t have anything definitive to tell you right now. Uncertainty is very scary for little kids. For you, too. But Dr. Hendricks is the best. And he’s as cool as a cucumber, in total control.”

Decker felt his throat clog. He picked up his pace, trying to keep step with Dr. Wallace. “What should I do about my boys? They’re perceptive.”

“How about if I talk to the parents, and you occupy your boys?”

“They’re going to want to know what’s going on. What do I say?” Decker ran his hands over his face. “God, I can’t believe …”

“She’s in very good hands.”

“If I hear that one more time, I’m going to throw up! How serious is her condition?”

“It’s serious.”

“Life-threatening?”

“It’s serious. Let’s leave it at that for now.”

“God, this is just a nightmare.” He heard his voice crack. “Is this unusual?”

“Not as unusual as you might think.”

They had reached the lobby. As luck would have it, the group was all there. Stefan had returned with the boys from the gift shop. Cindy and Magda were deep in conversation. Marge was leaning against the wall next to the complimentary coffeepot. She was the first to notice and pointed the others in his direction. Again he was met with expectant faces. But this time there were no smiles. Decker took Dr. Wallace over to the group.

“She need …” Again his throat swelled. “She could use some blood from a relative.”

Slowly, Rina’s parents rose. “Where do we go?” Stefan asked calmly.

“Come, I’ll take you,” Dr. Wallace said.

Sammy spoke up. “I want to come.”

Dr. Wallace said, “You have to be seventeen to donate blood.”

“I am seventeen,” Sammy persisted. “I’m small for my age. I already have a complex. Don’t make it worse.”

“I want to come, too,” Jake piped in.

“Boys, just stay here,” Decker said weakly.

Sammy yelled, “I want to help my mother, damn it!”

Decker was taken aback by the force of Sammy’s voice. Magda took him under the crook of her arm. “He can come with us, no?”

Dr. Wallace sighed. “You seem big enough. Won’t hurt to give you a pinprick.” She looked at Cindy.

Decker said, “She’s my daughter … Rina’s stepdaughter … not a blood relative.”

Dr. Wallace said, “So you’ll watch your pop for me?”

Cindy nodded.

“Come along. Let’s go help your mom.” Dr. Wallace started her speed walk. In the distance, Decker heard her ask what the boys’ names were. He couldn’t hear if they answered her. Either they were too far away or their voices were too weak.

Slowly, Decker lowered himself onto the couch. Marge sat at his right, Cindy at his left. She held his arm and kissed his bicep. Decker turned to her and tried out a smile.

“It’ll be okay, Dad,” she said. “Do you need anything?”

His initial reaction was nothing, but then he gave the matter some thought. “Princess, would you mind getting me something to eat? I think there’s a vending machine with fruit on the first floor. How about an apple and a banana?”

“Got it.” Cindy stood. “Do you want anything, Marge?”

“An apple sounds great.”

“On the double.”

Cindy did a jog to the elevator. When she was out of sight, Decker slumped back on the couch and closed his eyes.

“Do you want some coffee, Pete?” Marge asked.

“Nothing, thanks.”

“What did the doctor say?”

“It’s serious, Margie … I’m scared.”

He swabbed his wet cheeks with his fingers. She hugged his shoulder but didn’t speak. Decker was grateful for the silence.




3 (#ulink_0baad212-5113-5463-a104-ca3b7b6c8af9)


It wasn’t as if she was narcissistic or anything as psychologically disturbed as that. It was just that hers was a body worth looking at. Like admiring a work of art.

Because that was what she was—a work of art.

Stripped down naked, sweat glistening from smooth, bronzed skin, she regarded herself in the mirror. Perfect round, pronounced breasts because of the developed pecs underneath. The just rewards of really hard work. She’d gained shape without gaining an ounce of fat. She patted her flat abdomen, did a couple of arm rolls, then ran through a couple of poses—all sleek, defined muscle.

Definitely, she had developed the definition—the cut!

She swiped her damp body with a thick white Turkish towel, then wrapped it around her trunk, eyes never leaving the mirror. Short wisps of downy-fine facial hair ran down her cheek parallel to her ear—peach-fuzz sideburns. It went with the territory. At least it was blond. Good thing, because her coloring was naturally dark.

She unclipped her hair, and black satin fell to her shoulders.

Exotic. That’s what everyone had said about her. She was exotic-looking.

Again she studied her reflection in the silver glass.

In only two years, she had turned from a nothing into a something. From a tall, shapeless form to a Greek sculpture. But she was so much more than just a perfect body. With the discipline had come the control—real control. Not the artificial kind that comes when the mind is altered by chemicals. Drugs that hide but don’t cure. Now she was in control. Her mind was as disciplined as an army general’s, as meticulously organized as a dictionary. She was master of her destiny. There was nothing she couldn’t conquer, nothing she couldn’t overcome.

Best of all, the voices had stopped.

The door opened and closed. In the mirror, she saw him coming at her. This time it was Eric. He was naked, his biceps like veined footballs. He duck-walked to her, his thighs so buffed they had rubbed the inner skin raw.

She didn’t bother to turn around, just dropped on all fours.

He stood behind her, then dropped to his knees and slapped her rear.

“Are you ready for it, babe?”

“Ready, willing, and able.”

“You really want it?”

“I really want it.”

“Say it again.”

“I really want it!”

“Say it with conviction!” Again Eric slapped her ass, his leathery hand stinging her hide. “I want to hear conviction!”

She smiled. She liked Eric. He was gentle.

“I said I really, really want it!”

“Get mean, Tandy! I want to hear mean!”

“I really, really want it! Give it to me now, or I’ll blow your toes off!”

Eric laughed. “Blow my toes off?”

“One! At! A! Time!” she yelled. “Give it to me, Eric!”

“I can’t hear you!”

“Give it to me now!”

“Still can’t hear you!”

“Give it to me!” she screamed, feeling the heat in her face.

“Still, still can’t hear you!”

“GIVE IT TO ME, DAMN IT! GIVE IT TO ME, NOW!”

“Atta girl, babe! Now that’s conviction!”

She closed her eyes, then held her breath until she felt the quick thrust of the needle in her butt. Slowly, she blew out air, feeling the surge in her body.

In control.

She grinned.

Life was good!




4 (#ulink_cb2100c8-0808-5483-b001-b07d1e6ec656)


It tasted like wet sand. Decker didn’t know if it was the apple itself or his taste buds, but he ate it just to be polite. Cindy was worried about him, so he wanted to exhibit some normal behavior. As if doing routine things might suddenly turn the ordeal into something routine. His daughter and partner watched him chew. He became aware of the workings of his jaw, and it made his teeth hurt. He swallowed dryly and took his daughter’s hand.

“Thanks, princess.”

Marge stood. “You sit. I’ll get you some coffee.”

Decker nodded. Passivity was a role he seldom played, but he couldn’t summon enough strength to think on his own.

“This is the worst part, Daddy. The waiting.” Cindy hesitated a beat. “Maybe I should check to see if the baby’s been assigned to a nursery yet?”

“That would be great.”

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Marge came back with the coffee.

“She’s a good kid, your daughter.”

“The best.”

“How was it having her for the summer?”

“Terrific. I think being needed has done wonders for her self-confidence. She’s been an enormous help to Rina these past couple of weeks … drove the boys all around. I’ll be sorry to see her leave.”

“How did she like her first year away?”

“She liked Columbia enough to go back. I think she enjoyed herself.”

“The typical college experience, huh?”

“Yeah, complete with bouts of exhilaration and depression—usually one right after the other.”

“Does she have a major?”

“Not yet. But she mentioned something about criminal sciences or whatever they call it back there.”

“Wonder where that came from?”

“As long as it’s not direct fieldwork, I’m all for it.”

“Sexist.”

“Parentist. I wouldn’t want my boys to be cops, either.” He ran his hand over his face. “God, this is just hell! What’s keeping the others? How much blood could Rina possibly need? Maybe I should look for them.”

He started to rise, but Marge pushed him back.

“Don’t spin your wheels, Pete. Stay here in case someone has some news for you.”

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Decker’s stomach juices were an ocean of nausea. “What’s taking them so goddamn long?”

He bounced up and began to pace. Marge didn’t try to stop him. At loose ends herself, she picked up a hospital magazine on parenting and absently flipped through the pages. All these pictures of smiling parents holding their newborn tykes. It made her feel very old and very single. She read an article on infant jaundice, learned more about the liver and bilirubin then she ever wanted to know. She had just about read the periodical cover to cover when Cindy returned, sporting a wide grin. Pete didn’t even notice her. Too busy flattening the carpet nap.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Marge asked.

“God, she’s huge!”

Decker stared at Cindy. It took him a moment to realize where he was. “Who’s huge?”

“Your daughter, Daddy. She’s at least twice the size of any of the other kids in the nursery. And she’s definitely the most alert—eyes wide open. You want to see her?”

“Now that sounds like a good idea,” Marge said.

Decker shook his head. “I don’t want the others to come back and find me gone.”

“So I’ll wait here,” Marge said.

Decker shook his head. “I just can’t … not now. Not … feeling the way I do.”

“I understand, Daddy. I just wanted you to know how great she’s doing.”

Decker felt tears in his eyes and rubbed them away. “Thank you, princess. I appreciate it.”

Cindy stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “You want to see her, Marge? She’s in Nursery J.”

“I think I should wait with your dad.”

“No, go ahead, Marge,” Decker said. “Tell me she’s beautiful.”

“She is beautiful,” Cindy said.

“No, Pete, I’ll wait with you,” Marge said. “Watch you run a track in the carpet.”

“It’s better than punching out walls,” Decker said.

“Infinitely,” Marge said.

Cindy tapped her foot. “Well, if I’m not needed, maybe I’ll go back and visit the baby again. If the nurse’ll let me near her. She’s real weird!”

“In what way?” Marge asked.

“Actually, it was sort of my fault. I was so excited to see the baby. She’s right in the front of the window. I was playing with her, tapping on the glass. Then all of a sudden she started crying … all alone.” Cindy pouted. “So I went inside the nursery and asked if like, maybe someone could pick her up. For no reason, the nurse started screaming at me that she wasn’t anyone’s personal nanny, and if I didn’t leave instantly, I was going to infect all the babies. She made me feel like Typhoid Cindy. I wasn’t even near them!”

“Nurses sometimes get a little territorial,” Marge said.

“Yeah, you should have heard her rant when I asked if I could hold my sister. She started interrogating me: Just who was I, and what was my business with the baby anyway?”

“They have to be cautious, Cindy.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I figured if Dad came and said I was okay …” Cindy shrugged. “It’s not the right time. I’ll just go back and play with her through the window … if Marie doesn’t boot me away.”

“Marie’s the nurse?”

“Ms. Prune Face in white.”

Decker came over to them. “Ms. Prune Face in white?”

Cindy said, “The nurse who gave me a hard time about holding my sister.”

“What?” Decker said. “When was this?”

“Just a moment ago.”

“Why’d she give you a hard time?”

“Because she’s a weirdo.”

Marge said, “Cindy went into the nursery without being suited up. The nurse might have overreacted a little.”

“I wasn’t in the actual part where the babies were.”

“Cindy, please don’t make waves,” Decker said. “Not now, hon, okay?”

Cindy nodded and kissed her father’s cheek. “You really should see your new daughter, Daddy. She’s beautiful—all pink and bundled. And she has a loud, healthy cry. I could hear it through the window.”

“Wonderful,” Marge muttered.

“Keep an eye on her for me,” Decker said. “Just …”

“I know,” Cindy said. “I’ll keep it muzzled until we’re all back to normal. I can swim with that.”



Magda was carrying an armload of cellophane-wrapped snacks. Sammy was sandwiched between his brother and grandfather, his head resting against the old man’s side. Stefan had his arm around Sam’s waist. Sam’s complexion was pasty; his gait was slow and clumsy. Decker ran over and swooped the boy in his arms.

“Good Lord, what’s wrong?”

“I alone gave blood,” Sammy whispered. “That’s because I’m a manly, manly man.”

Decker smiled. Since his bar mitzvah, whenever there was a task requiring some physical strength, Sammy would always volunteer to do it, claiming that now he was a manly man. Decker placed his stepson on the couch.

“If you’re Dracula, I already gave at the office,” Sammy said.

“Very funny.” Decker brushed chestnut-colored bangs off the boy’s forehead. “What took you so long?”

“They wouldn’t let him go for a half hour,” Stefan said. “I think they really didn’t believe he was seventeen.”

“He isn’t seventeen!” Decker heard the raw anxiety in his voice. “Why’d you let him do it?”

“They had no choice,” Sammy said. “I insisted.”

“Nu, the boy has a mind of his own,” Stefan said.

“He needs to eat things with sugar, Akiva,” said Magda. “He don’t drink. Tell him to drink.”

Decker propped up his son’s head. “Drink, Sammy.”

“I’m full.”

“Then eat cookie,” Magda insisted.

“It’s not kosher,” Sammy pronounced.

“It’s made with vegetable shortening—”

“It doesn’t have hasgacha.”

Decker said, “I don’t care if it’s made out of pig’s feet, Sam, eat the damn cookie! Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” Sammy took the cookie and began to nibble on the edge. His face had suddenly regained a smidgen of color, and he seemed calm. Decker wondered if his sudden stern command had given the kid a sense that he was in control.

Stefan said, “We buy a pack of cards. Jake and I play poker. You want me to deal you in a round?”

“No thanks, Stefan,” Decker said.

“Then just we two play.” The old man looked at Jake. “What do we use for betting, Yonkie? I have box of Raisinettes.”

“Raisinettes are fine, Opah,” Jake answered back.

Magda said, “You don’t hear anything, Akiva?”

Decker shook his head.

“Where’s Cindy?”

“She went to visit the baby,” Marge said.

“The baby’s in the nursery?” Magda said.

“Yeah. Would you like me to take you there?”

“That would be nice.”

Marge smiled to herself. Mrs. Elias’s words came out Tat vood be nice. Her accent, along with the coiffed blue-black hair, heavy gold rings, and expensive clothes, suggested something untouchable. Perhaps under other circumstances, the woman would be aloof. But now she exuded an unmistakable warmth.

“Let’s go,” Marge said.

Magda said, “You feed Sammy, Akiva. Make sure he drinks.”

Decker said he would, noticing a gleam in his mother-in-law’s eyes. She was excited about the baby, and that was good. But his moment of relative quiescence was cut short by a figure draped in surgical greens coming through the double doors. The man’s step was quick and determined. His feet shuffled against the carpet. He threw his hand behind his neck and undid his mask as he walked. Decker recognized Dr. Hendricks and felt his knees buckle. Marge grabbed his arm.

“Sit down, Pete. It’s okay. She’s okay. I can see it in his eyes.”

The doctor was close enough to have heard her and seemed surprised by her confidence. “Yes, she’s going to be fine.”

The full report was interrupted by a host of baruch Hashems and mazel tovs, by hugs and tears and words of encouragement. The doctor waited until the excitement died down and then invited them to sit. The formality of his manner made Decker take note.

“What is it?” he asked.

Hendricks said, “Rina lost blood and is still heavily sedated—”

“When can I see her?” Decker broke in.

“When she’s out of Recovery. But she’s going to be there for a while. I’m going to put her in an ICU until I feel she’s strong enough and her blood count is elevated. But I’m extremely pleased. She’s doing remarkably, considering.” Hendricks looked at Sammy. “Last time I saw you in the flesh, you were six weeks old. I’d say there’s been a little growth since then. Maybe not seventeen years’ worth …”

Sammy smiled. Hendricks placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You did a great service for your mother. She has an unusual blood type, and yours was as perfect a match as they come. You always hope your kids’ll be there for you, and, my boy, you sure were. You really should be proud of yourself.”

The boy looked at his lap and nodded gravely. Hendricks smiled at Jake. “And you’ve changed a bit, too. Thanks for helping out, too, Jacob.”

The younger boy smiled back. Hendricks looked at the clock, then at Mr. and Mrs. Elias. “It’s almost ten. Visiting hours are just about over, but I’m sure if you’re quick, you can sneak in a peek at that beautiful granddaughter of yours. Then I want you all to go home and relax.”

“I can’t leave,” Decker said.

Hendricks frowned. “I won’t press you, Sergeant. I know you’re going to want to see Rina as soon as she comes out. But you really should try to rest.” To Mrs. Elias he said, “Take the boys home and get some sleep. You’re going to need to relieve him in the morning.”

“I will, Doctor.” Magda paused. “She’s really okay, my daughter?”

Dr. Hendricks took her hand and held it. “She’s really okay.”

“We just love her …”

Tears formed in Magda’s eyes. Stefan took his wife’s hand, squeezed it, then turned to Decker. “You come see your baby, Akiva. Just for a moment.”

“Go, Sergeant,” Hendricks said. “You could use a little joy.”

Slowly, Decker stood and blew out air. He didn’t want to go. What he wanted more than anything else was to see Rina. He wanted to hold her hand and kiss her long, slender fingers. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her. He didn’t want to be ecstatic while she was suffering. He didn’t want to do anything without her. Because nothing was as joyous as when they shared the moment together. But he decided to go see his daughter anyway. Because a little joy was better than none.




5 (#ulink_816dabcc-76b8-5bad-9bf1-da4764da8c42)


Cindy wiggled her fingers at the pink bundle with the saucer eyes, thinking the witch had purposely put the baby all the way in back. But it didn’t matter. Baby Girl Decker was so big and alert, she’d be visible wherever she was. The two layettes that abutted hers belonged to Baby Girl Rodriguez and Spencer Dole. BG Rodriguez was a teeny little thing with a head no bigger than a navel orange. She had thick black hair and wrinkled skin. Spencer had a fat, squat face and howled constantly. But BG Decker seemed unbothered by her roommates’ perplexities, preferring to drool on her paper bedsheet while trying to suck her thumb.

The nursery was a full house tonight—layettes filled with whites, blacks, Hispanics, and one Asian named Baby Boy Yamata who never cried. Rows of innocent babies out of Central Casting. Baby Girl Decker was living in a veritable pint-sized UN. A moment passed, then Baby Girl Jackson, representing the African-American contingent, opened a toothless mouth and let out a silent wail.

Nose to the glass, Cindy made silly faces at her sister, wishing she could hold her, hoping that Nurse Marie Bellson would go off shift and let her alone. The woman was intimidating, lean with knobby, rakelike fingers. Bellson was a deciduous tree in the wintertime—thin and barren. She had a way of making you feel guilty even if you hadn’t done anything.

Cindy’s eyes moved to the wall clock—visiting hours were almost over. She knew she’d have to leave any minute. As if to prove herself correct, she saw Bellson come out of the nursery. The woman was pure no-nonsense. She wore little makeup, and practical jewelry—a class ring, two gold stud earrings and a gold cross above her uniform breast pocket. She had attractive eyes, though—bright green spotted with brown. They’d be even prettier if they didn’t look so angry. Cindy put on her nicest smile.

“One more minute?”

Bellson shook her head. “You’re getting too attached to the baby. You’re her sister, not her mother.” She flicked her wrist. “Visiting hours are officially over. Good night.”

Cindy sighed, looked down the hallway, then broke into a grin. “That’s my father and my stepmother’s family.”

Bellson put her hands on her hips and shook her head again. Cindy jogged down the corridor and gave her father a bear hug.

“Rina’s okay?”

Decker linked arms with his daughter. “She’s out of surgery. Sammy gave her a pint of blood, God bless him.”

“But everything’s okay?”

“Not out of the woods yet, but I feel a lot better than I did an hour ago.”

“You look beat, Dad. You need rest.”

Decker knew she was right, but that was immaterial. He wasn’t going anywhere until he saw Rina. “Are you our personal escort?”

“Absolutely, if Bellson doesn’t kick us out. She just told me to leave.” Cindy frowned. “Here comes the Wicked Witch of the West now.”

A thin woman in white approached them. She had surface wrinkles trailing down the corners of her eyes and mouth and a set of wavy lines across her forehead—the kind of wrinkles that usually come from overtanning, except this woman held a proper Victorian pallor. Her hair was clean, but the color was dingy—pipewater from old plumbing. Her eyes were her saving grace—Kelly green sprinkled with coffee brown. They were clear and perceptive. She wasn’t pretty, but she managed to strike an attractive pose. Decker put her age at around forty. She held out her hand, and Decker took it.

“How is your wife, Mr. Decker?” Bellson asked.

“She’s still in Recovery.”

The RN nodded. “We’ve got the best post-op care in the country. So try not to worry. I’ll let you folks take a quick peek at the baby before I boot you out. Not my idea, but the babies are being transferred from the nurseries to their mothers for the ten o’clock feeding. We don’t like outside people in the wings while we’re wheeling them down the foyers. Who knows what kind of bugs they’re harboring.”

Magda said, “We be quick.”

“Come.” Bellson’s walk was brisk. “You’re the grandma? You look too young.” She stopped at the glass window. “She’s all the way in back. I’ll put her in front for you.”

Cindy watched Bellson disappear behind the nursery doors, amazed by the woman’s transformation. From sneers to smiles, she’d become all-accommodating. It made Cindy feel funny. Why was Bellson so mean to her and nice to everyone else? She shrugged. At least Dad was happy. His smile was genuine—first one she’d seen tonight. She went over and leaned her head against his arm. Together, they watched Bellson—who had donned a blue paper gown, gloves, and a face mask—rearrange the layettes until BG Decker was in front. Then the nurse picked her up and gave them a front view of the bundle. Cindy noticed that her father was holding back tears. He’d always been good at damming his emotions. It was one of the reasons why tonight seemed surreal. She had never seen him scared.

She said, “She looks like you, Daddy.”

“No, no, no,” Magda said, rapping gently on the glass. “She look like Ginny, but she has Akiva’s coloring—the red hair and fair skin.”

“Poor kid,” Decker said. “Another lobster in the sun.”

“Suntanning isn’t good for you anyway, Daddy,” Cindy said. “And if that’s not a cheap rationalization …”

“Grandma’s right,” Marge said. “She does look like Rina.”

“Of course she does,” Magda announced. “I’m good at faces. Nu, Stefan, tell them.”

“She’s good at the faces,” her husband stated.

Decker turned to his sons. “What do you think?”

“I think she’s funny-looking,” Jake said. “She’s all red.”

Magda gently hit his arm. “You were red when you were born.”

“No, no, no,” Stefan said. “Yonkie was never red. Shmuli was red.”

Decker regarded his elder stepson, still pale but steady on his feet. He seemed lost, his eyes unfocused. “Are you okay, Sam?”

“Huh?”

Decker put his arm around the boy. “What are you thinking about?”

“I wish I could see Eema. You know … just see her.”

“Boy, I know how you feel.”

“She’ll be okay, won’t she?”

“Doc assures me she’ll be fine. I believe him, Sammy.”

“When do you think you’ll see her?”

“I don’t know, Sammy. Soon, I hope.”

“Will you call us after you see her?”

“Depends on the time.” Decker hugged his shoulder gently. “I’m not going to call you at three in the morning.”

“No, you call us, Akiva,” his mother-in-law said. “I don’t sleep much tonight anyway. You call us as soon as you see Ginny. I want to know.” She wiped her eyes. “Please, you call.”

“I’ll call.”

“Maybe you call Rav Schulman in the morning,” Stefan suggested. “Ginny would want you to call him.”

Decker nodded, thinking it was a good idea. Over the years, the old rabbi had become more than Decker’s teacher, had become even more than a spiritual adviser. More than anything, Rav Schulman had become a wise and treasured friend. Decker could certainly use a little wisdom now. He watched Marie Bellson resettle his daughter back in the layette. To Cindy, he said, “The nurse seems okay.”

“To you.” Cindy shrugged. “Maybe I just rubbed her the wrong way. I didn’t mean anything. But sometimes I guess I get a little overexuberant.”

“Thanks for your help, Cindy.”

“You like your daughter?”

“I like both my daughters.”

Cindy stepped on her tiptoes and kissed her father’s cheek.

Nurse Bellson came back and placed her hands on her hips. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you all to leave. I’ve got to get these babies to their mothers. We don’t want any hungry infants.”

“Who’s going to feed our baby?” Cindy asked.

Decker noticed an immediate narrowing of Bellson’s eyes. The expression was subtle and fleeting, but it was strong enough to set his antennae quivering.

“I’m going to feed her personally just as soon as I finish wheeling the babies to their mothers,” Bellson said.

“Can I feed her?” Cindy asked. “I’ll gown up. Please?”

Decker cut in before Bellson could speak. “I think it would be a good idea if Cindy … I know my wife would like it. If you wouldn’t mind, Marie. I don’t want to upset any rules, but …”

Decker watched Bellson rock on her feet.

“It’s unusual,” she said.

“I promise I won’t get in your way,” Cindy said.

“That’d be a first,” Bellson muttered under her breath. Then she smiled. “I suppose I could allow it this one time. Go inside the nursery, but don’t go past the yellow line. I’ll suit you up in a minute.”

“Thank you very much, Marie,” Decker said. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” Marie checked her watch again.

Decker said, “We’re leaving. Thanks.”

Marge hugged Decker. “Baby is just beautiful, Pete. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Thanks for coming down, Margie. Get some sleep. Some people have to work in the morning.”

“Three weeks to go, then it’s big time.” Marge gave him a quick salute. “See you in Homicide, big guy.”

“You call us, Akiva, when you see Ginny,” Magda reminded him. “I just want you to tell me she’s okay.”

“I promise, Magda.”

Decker knelt and drew his sons near him. “I want you guys to get some sleep. It’s been a long, torturous day, and we all need our rest.”

They nodded weakly. It was late, and anxiety had sapped their strength.

“Where you go now, Akiva?” Stefan asked.

“Back to the OB lobby. They promised they’d tell me as soon as Rina was out of Recovery. Come on, I’ll walk you to the elevators. Cindy, you’re staying here, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me when you’re done feeding the baby. Don’t you dare walk to your car by yourself.”

“I know, I know—”

“Don’t shine me on, Cynthia. I’m serious.”

“I promise I’ll check in with you.”

“Good.”

“Daddy?”

“What?”

“Does the baby have a name?”

“I think Rina wanted to wait until we named her in synagogue.”

Cindy hesitated. “It just might be nice to call her something. But I don’t want to ruin your tradition.”

Decker thought a moment. “I think Rina mentioned something about naming her Channa Shoshana—Hannah Rose in English.”

Magda erupted into tears. “That was my mother’s name. My mother, Channa, and Stefan’s mother, Shoshana, aleichem hashalom. Gottenu, I hadn’t thought about …” Again, the flood of tears. “Our other granddaughter was named after their side, so this be the first name for my mother.” She hugged her husband. “They’d be so proud, nu, Stefan.”

“Very proud.”

Decker spotted Nurse Bellson’s impatient eyes. They had narrowed, and only part of the green irises were visible.

Panther eyes.

“We’re holding up the show,” he said. “Thank you, Marie. Let’s go.” He kissed Cindy’s cheek. “Bye, princess.”

“Bye, Daddy.”

Cindy watched them go, her father holding the boys’ hands while Magda sobbed on her husband’s shoulder. As soon as the group was out of sight, she felt the heat of Bellson’s glare. The nurse had her twiggy arms twisted across her chest.

“Well, you engineered that one nicely.”

“Can we please be friends?” Cindy asked.

“You don’t trust me to feed the baby?”

“Of course, I trust you, Ms. Bellson. I just feel so sorry for her, her mom being operated on and everything. My father was a basket case about a half hour ago. She’s my sister … my first actual sibling. I’m just trying to help.”

“You’re getting in my way.”

“It’s unintentional. Honestly.”

“Unintentional.” Bellson snorted. “Haven’t you something better to do with your life than hang around here?”

“I’ll be back in school in a week. How’s that?”

“Where?”

“In New York. Columbia University, specifically.”

“UC system isn’t good enough for you?”

“Who can get into UCLA?” Cindy forced herself to smile. “Besides, I’m trying to give my poor mom a break after all these years putting up with me.”

“You don’t get along with your mom?”

Cindy waited a beat before speaking. She sensed that the nurse was hoping she didn’t get along. “Actually, I’m close to both my parents. They lead very different lives, but they’re both good people. I do the best I can.”

Bellson hesitated, then shook her head once again. Her eyes suddenly softened. “I suppose it’s nice what you’re doing for your father. Just don’t step on my toes, all right? I’ve been charge nurse of this unit for ten years. I don’t appreciate people barging in, demanding that I cater to them.”

“I didn’t mean anything. I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” Bellson uncrossed her arms, letting them slowly drop to her sides. “I do get testy, especially when I’m overworked and understaffed.” She played with a gold class ring on her left hand. “My profession means a lot to me. I put my heart and soul into my babies—all of them. You notice that little Rodriguez baby?”

Cindy nodded.

“Mama’s only fifteen years old—a child with a child. I’ve spent hours with her just teaching her the basics. How to hold her baby, how to feed her, how to change a diaper. Letting her know that what she’s got is a baby and not a doll.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

“It’s because I care. I care about that skinny little thing.” Bellson furrowed her brow. “She was low birth weight because her mother smoked during pregnancy.” She dropped her voice a notch. “And I bet she smoked more than tobacco.”

The nurse smoothed her paper gown.

“Anyway, it’s not my position to judge. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. But it is my position to help. I don’t want that poor little thing going home with an untrained mother. They’re the ones who do damage. One of the things I always tell the mamas: If they don’t want what the good Lord blessed them with, there are hundreds of nice families who’d gladly take the baby off their hands. They should quit their eternal griping and thank Jesus they have a healthy baby.”

Cindy nodded solemnly, thinking that Bellson would have been a great Puritan. She could picture the woman in a Pilgrim’s hat, her reedy body covered by a black dress with a starched white apron, fingers kneading stiff bread dough in a one-room shack heated by a black iron cauldron. Pilgrim Bellson would be an attentive mother—caring—but she’d never crack a smile. The Pilgrim glanced at her watch—the timepiece an anachronism that brought Cindy back to the present.

“I’m running late,” Bellson said.

“My fault, I’m sorry,” Cindy said. “I’ll wait in the nursery and won’t go past the yellow line.”

“Good.” Bellson played with her ring again. “It’s nice what you’re doing for your sister. As long as you remember you’re not the infant’s mother. I hope your stepmother takes your place soon.”

“I hope so, too,” Cindy said. And she meant it.




6 (#ulink_1d14c5d9-b13f-5560-8b21-c3da422a3c69)


The kick aroused her from a dull sleep. She opened her eyes and was staring at loin-clothed crotch. She couldn’t even tell who the crotch belonged to, because the wall of chest muscle hid the face. The voice told her to get the hell up. For a moment, she panicked. Her heart began to pound, awakening her out of her stupor.

The low one’s come back!

But then the voice was familiar in a positive way.

Mack.

The voice belonged to Mack.

She relaxed.

Back in control.

It was Mack.

Eric was better, but Mack was okay.

“Are you just going to lie around and gather dust like a rug? If you’re a rug, maybe I should take you out and beat you.”

The floor was cold and hard. His intimidation was working. She was feeling appropriately hostile. Lifting heavy weights required the rush, and nothing gave you the rush like hostility. “Shut up!”

“So are you ready to work or what?”

“I’m ready.”

He held out his hand. She took it, and he hoisted her to her feet. He threw a bundle at her.

“Put some clothes on.”

She nodded and dressed quickly.

“How much time do you have?” Mack asked.

“Two hours.”

“Two hours? Tandy, we can’t do anything in two hours.”

“Well, that’s all the time I have, Mack. Take it or leave it. Help me with my weight belt.”

“You should get a better-quality belt.” Mack slipped the leather straps through the metal loops and pulled tightly, enjoying the sound of her curses. “After two years of pumping, you’re no virgin, you know. You want to make progress, you need the right gear.”

“I’m a little tight on cash at the moment.”

“Hey, are you serious about building or what?”

“Of course I’m serious.”

“Then find the cash, Tandy. If you’re gonna do, do it right.”

“It’s too tight, Mack!”

Again Mack pulled on the straps.

“There! Now it’s too tight.”

“You are such a sadist!”

“Fuck you! What’s this two hours crap? Are you committed, or are you playing games? We don’t have time for games.”

“I told you I’m committed.”

“That’s what you say, but that’s not how you act,” Mack snarled. “Two hours …”

“How about the pecs? We could do the pecs in two hours, Mack.”

“Yeah, we could probably do the pecs,” Mack said. “Be better if we had three hours.”

“I have to work. I’m pulling the graveyard shift.” She attempted a deep breath, but the belt was too tight. All she could do was exhale short little puffs. “I’m going to need something, Mack.”

“What? Like some B-six?”

“Something stronger.”

Mack paused. “It can be arranged.”

“You’re a doll—”

“Hey, I don’t want to ever hear that kind of shit before a session!”

“Okay, you’d be a doll if you weren’t such a dumb jerk!”

“Much better!”

Mack slammed her back into his granite-hard chest. He reached around her body and felt her breasts. “I hate to say this. But you’re coming along nicely.”

She felt herself smiling. “Thanks. Or shouldn’t I say that?”

“You shouldn’t say that. You should say, ‘Of course I’m coming along, asshole!’ You’ve got to learn to get your body to deliver the rush. Pumped up means more than just the physical body, you know.”

“I know.”

He felt her again. “Yeah, you’re doing well. Of course, there’s always room for improvement. Your pecs have good tone, but no bulk.”

“What are you talking about! My chest is getting bigger all the time, and not a drop of it is due to fat.”

“Not enough.” Mack shook his head. “I’m going to increase your weights. What are you at?”

“Twenty each arm free weights.”

“How many reps?”

“Twenty.”

“How ’bout we use twenty-five weights, but we’ll drop the reps to ten. Try to bulk you up.”

“Whatever you think.”

“Tandy, get mean!”

She turned around and smiled. Then she punched his stomach as hard as she could. Her entire hand went numb from the impact, but it did the job. Mack had sucked in air from the surprise punch. Not a lot of air—not more than a little gulp—but she had actually caught him off guard. Mack shook his head, laughed, then pinned her against the wall. They went nose-to-nose.

“You ever try a stunt like that again, I’ll kill you!”

She spit at him. He spit back. Then they both laughed.

Mack said, “No good. Can’t pump and laugh at the same time.” He stared at her, then squeezed her arms with his massive claws. He thought he was being scary. But nothing, nothing physical, could be as scary as the mind out of control. She bit back the pain and kept eye contact.

“Good,” Mack whispered. “That was real good, Tandy.”

She felt him slowly easing the pressure off her arms, then he ran his hands over her breasts. Tandy closed her eyes. It felt good. In another world, she might have delved further. But that wasn’t where she was at now. Mack knew it, too. And really that wasn’t where he was at, either. It was just the touching. Gorgeous bodies like hers and his … they were meant to be touched by those who could truly appreciate them.

“You ready to sweat, girlie?” he said.

“Always.”




7 (#ulink_dd1447ad-172b-520d-91ea-16c66d362695)


The shaking of his shoulder brought Decker into a groggy state of consciousness. He leaped up, then felt unsteady on his legs. He could feel an arm giving him support. He rubbed his eyes and focused on a round, fair face. A body garbed in slacks, sports shirt, and a white coat—Dr. Hendricks. No more scrubs. Decker took that as a very good sign.

“Are you all right?” Hendricks asked.

“I fell asleep. I can’t believe I did that.”

“Happens to the best of us.” The doctor felt the stubble on his chin. “Rina’s progressing well. I just finished putting in the order to move her to the ICU. I don’t expect she’ll stay there long. I just want to make sure we have everything under control. You can see her now. She’s still heavily sedated, so don’t count on a lot of witty repartee.”

Decker smiled.

“She was oriented when I spoke to her. Her vitals are good. All indications are she’ll be just fine.”

“Thank God!”

Hendricks placed a hand on Decker’s shoulder. “I’ll be around for the next hour or so. I’ll need to talk to you, but I know how anxious you are to see Rina. Peter, I don’t want you shocked by her appearance.”

“Doctor, I’ve seen everything in any kind of condition imaginable.”

“It’s different when it’s your wife.”



Cerebrally, he was prepared. Emotionally, he wasn’t. Her complexion was chalky gray, lips so pale they blended with the rest of her skin tone. Her hair had been pulled off her face. What strands did show were limp with perspiration. Her left arm was attached to a board on the bedrail, the underside bruised and milky white. An I.V. was held in place by big white bandages at her wrist. The rest of her body was covered by a bedsheet. Her sleep seemed deep—not a hint of movement under her delicate lids. He’d seen stiffs with better color. That thought gave him a chill.

He was afraid to touch her, afraid she might turn to dust like an antique document. Carefully, he edged his hand toward her cheek, letting it rest above her mouth for just a moment, felt her sweet breath upon his palm. He inched his fingers to her lips, then quickly removed his hand. Biting his lower lip, he pulled a chair by her bedside and broke into the shakes. He knew he should call Rina’s parents, but he needed time to convince himself that she was really okay.

He hugged his body and watched his wife sleep. Forcing himself calm, he took her hand in his, encircled his fingers around hers. She didn’t stir. He didn’t remember how long he sat like that. The next thing he knew, the doctor was waking him again. His eyes went to the wall clock. It was after twelve. Slowly, he extricated his hand from Rina’s. She hadn’t changed position.

Decker stood and the doctor put his arm around him. He whispered, “Let’s go in my office.”

“It’s okay to leave her?”

“Yes, she’s fine.”

They stepped outside the ICU into a brightly lit hallway, eerie because it was so empty. Then Decker stopped.

“My daughter!”

“Your baby’s doing great, Peter. Pediatrician’ll be in tomorrow if you want to talk to him.”

“No, my other daughter,” Decker said. “She’s nineteen. She was with the baby. I told her to check in with me before she left. If she walked by herself to the parking lot, I’ll wring her neck. You keep thinking there’ll come a time when you’ll stop worrying about your kids …”

“Nah, it never comes,” Hendricks said.

“Do you mind if I find out where she is?”

“Go ahead. My office is room six-seventy-eight B. I’ll wait for you there.”

Decker asked Hendricks how to get to Nursery J. As he listened to the doc’s words, he was acutely aware of the fact that his ears were hearing, but his brain wasn’t processing. Although Hendricks had pointed him in the right direction, Decker didn’t know where he was going. He was senile from worry and lack of sleep, walking in a stuporous state down long plush corridors that seemed to meld into other hallways that led nowhere.

After a couple of false starts, he somehow reached the correct nursery. He peeked in the window—two rows of layettes containing bundles topped by little fuzzy heads. As his eyes danced over the tiny faces, Decker suddenly realized that his own infant daughter’s bassinet was gone. That jolted his heart and cleared his brain.

He knocked on the entry to the nursery but didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he turned the knob just as a scrub-suited woman opened the door from the other side. She was middle-aged and petite, her face small and pinched. She was wearing a hair cap. Her name tag said DARLENE JAMISON, RN.

“I’m Peter Decker. I was just wondering where my baby was. My baby daughter … and my other one, too. Both my daughters. Did you happen to see—”

“You’re Cindy’s father. Can tell ’cause of the hair. Relax. She’s fine … in the back with the baby. They’re both sleeping.” Darlene broke into a grin and shook her head. “Come in. If you want to see your dynamic duo, you’re gonna have to put on some protective clothing. And you’ll have to take your shoes off, too.”

Decker stepped inside the waiting area of the nursery, the anteroom so brightly lit it hurt his eyes. Instantly, his ears were assaulted by high-pitched squalls and protests. His eyes drifted over to the layettes. Baby Girl Jackson seemed to be making most of the noise. Her mouth was wide open, and she was howling up a storm. She sat between Baby Girl Rodriguez, who was beet red from her wailing, and Baby Boy Yamata, who seemed above it all. His big eyes were open and staring at the ceiling as if to say, Lord, what is wrong with all these people?

Decker couldn’t help but smile. A big yellow line set out the perimeters of where he was allowed to place his feet. Beyond the line was a glassed hallway on either side, doors leading to the nurseries. As far as Decker could see, Darlene was the only person tending sheep.

“My daughters are okay?” Decker said.

“Dandy.” Darlene chuckled. “Hope you realize your big girl’s a real mama lion. She’s very attached to the baby. When things settle down, you might want to gently remind her that she’s the sister, not the mother.”

Decker ran his hands down his face.

“Not what you wanted to hear, huh?” Darlene patted his shoulder. “Sorry. Cindy’ll be fine. How’s your wife doing?”

“She’s pretty wiped out. Her doctor’s waiting to talk to me. Do you want me to talk to Cindy now?”

“No, not at all. I don’t mean to say that Cindy is a problem. She’s a great kid, full of spunk. I think it’s kinda cute. ’Course, I’m a little hang-loose. Single mother of three, five years on the graveyard shift, you learn to relax and smile if you want to survive. I’m pretty much my own boss. No one bothers to come down and check things out at one in the morning. Marie’s the one with all the pressure.”

“Did Marie and Cindy get into any kind of conflict?”

“Well, it’s not that Cindy’s gettin’ in the way, it’s … I think it’s a turf problem. Marie’s an institution here. She’s used to postpartum moms—tired, anxious, and willing to hang on to everything Marie’s got to say. Now a kid like Cindy comes along—full of energy. Marie’s just not used to that. Marie told me to kick Cindy out when I came on shift at eleven. But, heck, she really seems like a good kid. Talks nicely about you, her mom, her stepmom and stepbrothers. I know this is her first sibling, and she’s so excited. I just didn’t have the heart. And then she fell asleep …”

“I’ll talk to her.”

“You don’t have to do it now, Detective …” Darlene paused. “Is that the right title?”

Technically, it was Detective Sergeant, but Decker told her Detective was fine.

“I don’t care really,” Darlene said. “I like Cindy. But Marie’s the boss. You’ll have to work by her rules.”

“I understand.” Decker took an Advil from his pocket and popped the pill in his mouth. “Let me talk to the doctor, then I’ll come back.”

“You’ve got two lovely daughters,” Darlene said. “And I know you’ve got some stepsons, too—a real nice family. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. Do you have any idea where six-seventy-eight B is?”

Darlene laughed. “Place is a maze, isn’t it? I’ll at least get you to the elevator and give you directions from there.” She crooked a finger. “This way.”

Decker followed her, an obedient robot wondering why the hair on his neck was standing on end. It wasn’t because he was tired. It wasn’t because Darlene had told him that basically Cindy was being a pain in the neck. It wasn’t even because of Rina. It wasn’t until he was standing in front of the door to room 678B that he figured out what was bothering him. It was Darlene Jamison, RN. She was the only one Decker had seen actually in Nursery J. And she had left the babies alone to walk him to the elevator.



Hendricks’s hospital office was designed strictly for function. Into the small space were crammed a standard institutional-issue metal desk, a low-back secretary’s chair, and two waiting-room chairs that had seen better days. On the walls were metal shelves holding reference books, medical tomes, and an old coffeemaker. Decker recalled the doctor’s private-practice office—decorated to the hilt. But for some reason, Decker felt Hendricks was more at home here. He seemed more relaxed. Maybe it was just fatigue.

“Have a seat.” Hendricks opened a chart on his desk. “Did you find your daughter?”

“She was with the baby in the nursery. Apparently, she’s becoming quite attached to her.”

“It’s her first sibling, isn’t it?”

“She has stepbrothers, but this is different.”

“Is she close to her stepbrothers?”

The questions seemed out of place—too personal. Must be trying out some rapport-building, Decker thought. The guy had something on his mind but didn’t want to jump into it.

“She likes her stepbrothers, but the relationships aren’t close ones. Not a lot of history between them.”

Hendricks shifted in his seat. “Are you close to your stepsons?”

Decker paused, thinking what a weird question that was. Maybe Hendricks was worried he was going to show favoritism. He shouldn’t have been concerned.

“I’m very close to them. I consider them my own sons, and I love them dearly.”

“Are you their legal father?”

Now Decker was genuinely taken aback.

“Uh, no, not yet.” His heart began to race as he moved to the edge of his seat. “Why? Is Rina in danger—”

“No, no, no. Nothing like that. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Decker sat back and blew out air. “I’d adopt them if they wanted. I didn’t want to take away their father’s identity. I’m ready for it. But I don’t know if they are.”

“Very sensitive of you.”

Decker didn’t answer, trying to assess where Hendricks was coming from. The doctor looked down at the chart, clearly uncomfortable. Decker wished he’d get on with it.

“So your daughter’s taken a shine to her new little sister,” Hendricks said. “That’s nice.”

“Do you think it’s a bad idea for her to become attached to the baby?”

“Only if it’s to the exclusion of her normal activities. Why? Is there a problem?”

Decker rubbed his face. “She seems to be having some conflict with Nurse Bellson, getting in her way, that kind of thing.”

Hendricks rolled his eyes. “Marie’s a damn good nurse, but she does get a bit possessive.”

“Not the first time there’s been a conflict?”

Hendricks shook his head. “You want me to talk to Marie for you?”

“No, no, no. I’ll handle my daughter.”

“Isn’t she going back to college soon?”

Decker nodded.

“So it should work itself out,” Hendricks said.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Hendricks yawned. “Sorry. It’s been a long night—a busy night. Not just Rina, others as well. Having babies must be in the air. But I did want to talk to you before I left, tell you what happened … explain a few things.”

Decker waited.

“Rina developed a condition known as accreta.” Hendricks sighed and spelled it. “Basically, the placenta didn’t come out on its own. This can happen for a lot of different reasons, the most common being that the placenta adheres to the uterus. When this occurs, we have to go in and physically remove all of the tissue. Sometimes we can do it with a simple D and C. We go in and scrape the uterus … clean everything out.”

“There’s a ‘but’ to this, isn’t there?” Decker said.

Hendricks’s eyes went from Decker to the chart. Decker felt his stomach churn.

“What?”

“Rina’s hemorrhaging was quite severe; her blood pressure was beginning to drop precipitously. We had no choice but to operate. Once we did, we found out what the problem was. The placenta had grown through the uterus, and that’s what caused all the hemorrhaging. I’m sorry to tell you this, Peter, but Rina had a hysterectomy.”

His words hung in the air. Decker was too stunned to respond. The room suddenly seemed to take on motion, walls pulsating, the bookshelves undulating. Nausea crept from his stomach to his throat. He swallowed to keep from retching and covered his mouth with his hand.

Hendricks fiddled with the chart. “I know this must be quite a shock to you—”

“Couldn’t you just have cut it out?” Decker blurted. “The placenta … couldn’t you have surgically removed it?”

“No—”

“You had to take the whole uterus out?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand—”

“Peter—”

“I mean, isn’t that what surgery is? Cutting things out? Cutting selective things out?”

Hendricks didn’t answer.

Decker said, “I just don’t understand why …”

“Peter,” Hendricks said softly, “her placenta was like an open hose of blood. The more I tried to remove it, the more she bled. I had no option whatsoever. I know how Rina feels about children. I delivered Samuel and Jacob, and I held her hand after all three of her miscarriages—”

“I thought she miscarried because her husband was so sick. That’s what she told me.”

Hendricks was silent.

“No?” Decker’s voice sounded desperate.

“Peter,” Hendricks began, “who knows why she miscarried? Needless to say, I was delighted when she carried this baby to term. Throughout this ordeal, please try to remember, she did give birth to a beautiful little girl. You have a healthy daughter. Good heavens, I know Rina wanted a slew of children. And this is going to hit her very hard. That’s why I asked you how close you are to her sons. Some men get idiotic with the idea of having a boy—”

“No …” Decker shook his head. “No, it’s not a problem.” He felt his eyes go wet and shut them a moment. When he opened them, the horror hadn’t gone away. “What … what do I say …?”

“I’ll tell her. That’s my job.”

Again Decker shook his head. “I can do it.”

“Peter, I’m sure in your line of work, you have had to deliver a fair share of bad news. Let me be the bad guy.”

“No, I can’t … I can do it.” Decker looked down, then looked up. “When should I tell her?”

Hendricks sighed loudly. “If you insist on doing this, I suggest you mention it to her as soon as she has some of her strength back. I’ll let you know when her blood count stabilizes.”

Decker lowered his head and nodded.

“She’s a strong woman, Peter. She’s going to recover very quickly. The actual operation was … God, how do I say this without sounding like an insensitive jerk?” Hendricks paused. “The operation itself was routine. Rina’s ovaries were left intact, so hormonally, she’ll be as regulated as any other woman her age. And she’ll be able to nurse. Just as soon as she’s stabilized, she’ll recover in a snap.”

“I love her so much,” Decker whispered. “She’s going to be devastated.”

“And you?”

“Truthfully, I’m not feeling too good, Doc.” Again Decker dragged his hand over his face. “But I’ll be fine. It’s Rina …”

“It’s a loss, Peter,” Hendricks said. “Not like a death of a baby, thank God—” He caught himself. “You already went through that with your first wife, didn’t you?”

Decker nodded.

“That must have been hell. This is hell, too. Something you both are going to grieve over. There’s no getting around it. If you’re determined to tell her yourself, I won’t stop you. But if you need anything, pick up the phone, call the exchange, and say it’s an emergency. I’m here for both of you. For Rina and you and for the family—the boys, the grandparents. Just give me a call.”

All Decker could do was nod.

“I’ve ordered a cot for you next to Rina.” Hendricks stood. “Try to get some rest, all right?”

“Thank you.” Slowly, Decker got to his feet. “I’ve got to talk to my daughter.”

“It can wait until the morning.”

“I want to do it now.”

“Peter, it can wait.” Hendricks put his arm around Decker’s shoulder. “Go to sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

“I’ve got to tell Rina’s parents—”

“Don’t tell them anything before you’ve told Rina.”

“No, not this.” Decker was finding it hard to talk, hard to speak without choking. “I promised I’d call them as soon as Rina was out of recovery … tell them she’s okay. They must be worried sick.”

Hendricks turned out the lights. “I’ll call them for you. Give me the number.”

It took Decker a few seconds to remember the order of the digits. “You’ll tell them Rina’s doing okay?”

“Yes, I will. Because Rina is recovering well.” Hendricks pulled out keys from his pants and locked the door. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to the ICU.”

Decker didn’t argue. He felt like a child being put to bed. He didn’t want to go, but he was just too exhausted to protest.




8 (#ulink_63bd455b-1a93-599d-b9de-c234617c7e22)


Cindy woke up with a start, her body pinched from sleeping in a chair. Beside her was Hannah’s layette, the baby lying on her stomach, eyes closed, the little pink face molded into the mattress. It had been almost three hours, and Hannah hadn’t uttered a peep. A big kid, her birth weight almost nine pounds, she probably had a bigger stomach than most of the other infants. Good for her and lucky for Rina. Hannah would probably sleep through the night at an early age.

The wall clock said 1:05, and Cindy assumed it was A.M. For how brightly lit the nursery was, it could have been P.M. Kind of like the Vegas casino she had visited a year ago—a fixed internal environment that scorned the passage of time. She stood and stretched and crossed over the yellow line to the nurses’ station. Through the glass, Cindy could see Darlene talking animatedly to a big-boned black woman, waving her arms as if conducting. Cindy knocked on the door. Darlene looked up and beckoned her in.

“Hi,” Cindy said.

“Take off your mask,” Darlene said. “Can’t understand a darn thing with that on. Everyone sounds like they’re talkin’ with marbles in their mouth. How’s your sister doing? Did you feed her yet?”

“She’s still sleeping,” Cindy said.

“You let her sleep past her twelve o’clock feeding? Uh-oh, Mom’s not going to like that. Gotta get her on a schedule. What kind of marine are you, anyway?”

There was a sparkle in Darlene’s eyes, a gentle tease in her smile. Cindy smiled back. “Should I feed her?”

“Well, since you already messed her up, you might as well let her wake up naturally. You first-time big sisters just can’t do a darn thing right.” The head nurse glanced at her watch, then turned back to her heavyset charge. “Lily, start wheelin’ the babies back into the nursery from their twelve o’clock feeding. Do rooms three-fifteen through three-thirty. I’ll do the rest. Be sure to check the chart and see who has rooming in. Don’t take the rooming-in babies back.”

“I won’t,” Lily said solemnly.

Darlene said, “But do check in and see if everything’s okay. Any questions?”

Lily gave a nervous smile. “Not a one!”

“Then either I’m doing something very right or something very wrong,” Darlene said. “And relax, Lily. Try to have some fun. As long as you’re doin’ some work.”

“Thanks a lot, ma’am.” Lily laughed anxiously and turned to Cindy. “She’s a real slave driver.”

“Is that nice, Nurse Booker?” Darlene pouted. “After all I’ve done for you?”

“But a real nice slave driver,” Lily said. “Watch out for her when you’re a trainee.”

“A trainee?” Cindy asked.

“Darlene has big plans for you.”

Cindy laughed but was confused.

“Nurse Booker, kindly remove yourself and go do some work,” Darlene said.

“Yes sir, ma’am.” Lily saluted, waved at Cindy, then left.

Cindy waved back, watching a big rear fill out the backside of her uniform. Despite Lily’s girth and size, she looked young—early twenties, maybe. Probably a recent graduate of nursing school, and this was her first real job.

“She seems really nice,” Cindy said to Darlene.

“She’s going to be a darn good nurse,” Darlene said. “Know why? ’Cause she’s conscientious and caring. She worked herself up from nothing, ’cause her dream was to help people. Shows what you can do when the motivation is there. Have you ever thought of nursing as a career, Cindy? You seem pretty darn caring yourself.”

Cindy felt heat in her cheeks. Seemed like Lily and Darlene had been doing some talking. “I haven’t made up my mind yet, but I’m leaning toward criminal sciences.”

Darlene made a face. “The nursing profession could use caring people. Think about it.” She straightened her spine and did a few arm circles. “You calling it quits tonight, you slacker?”

Again Cindy smiled. “I thought I’d just wait until Hannah wakes up so I could feed her. Then I thought I’d go home. Maybe come back later in the morning. Is that okay?”

“Okay by me, kid. Just don’t get in Marie’s way.”

Cindy frowned. “Marie’s going to be on shift again?”

“Doing the three-to-eleven, plus all night here with me—double duty. The other night charge nurse is taking the night off.” Darlene furrowed her brows. “Marie’s a good nurse, Cindy. Very dedicated and patient with the moms and the babies. She just doesn’t have a lot of leftover patience for anyone else, especially young kids like yourself who’re self-confident and able-bodied. You’re gonna have to learn to deal with all sorts of people in your life.”

“I don’t say a word to her,” Cindy said. “I try to mind my own business. She just doesn’t like me hanging around Hannah.”

“You know how to bake?” Darlene asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell you what, Cindy. When you come back, bring her some home-baked chocolate-chip cookies. Marie’ll appreciate the gesture. That’s all she wants. A little appreciation.”

“Hey, if that’s all it takes, I’ll even wrap them up in a basket with ribbon.”

Darlene said, “I gotta go fetch some babies, start doing my blood work.”

Cindy drew her paper-covered foot across the ground. “Was my dad around here at all?”

“’Bout an hour ago. I told him you were with Hannah and both of you were asleep.”

“I should go let him know I’m alive.” She looked at the clock. “I think I could make it back and forth before Hannah wakes up.”

“Probably,” Darlene said. “Hon, do me a favor. Before you go, check and make sure Angela or Chris is in the back room. Nursery C and D called them away ’bout an hour ago ’cause we’re so short-staffed. Budget cuts. Seems the whole nursing staff is a few old-timers and a bunch of temps who don’t know a darn thing. I told them they could float for a while, but sometimes when you get busy, people forget to look at the clock. Someone should be in the nursery at all times.”

“And if they’re not?”

“Wait for me, and I’ll call someone in.”

“I can visit my father later. Do you want me to wait here until you’re done wheeling back the babies?”

Darlene wrinkled her nose as she thought. “If you wouldn’t mind, that would be convenient. All these budget cuts … make you wonder if hospitals are really for patients anymore.” She clucked her tongue and handed Cindy her beeper. “Just push the red button if you think you got an emergency. I’ll be right on the floor.”

“No problem,” Cindy said. “Do you want me to check in on the other babies?”

“Only if you want to visit,” Darlene said. “Thanks for your help, Cindy. And think about nursing, missy. You’re a natural.”

Cindy’s eyes went to the ceiling. “Uh, I’ll be with Hannah. See if she’s awake and ready to eat.”

As Cindy started to leave, Darlene called out her name. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?” Cindy asked.

Darlene pointed to her face mask.

“Sorry.” Cindy slipped the mask over her mouth and nose and tied the strings. “Better?”

Darlene frowned, then broke into a big grin. “You either said ‘better’ or ‘butter.’ Yes, it is better—or, no we don’t have any butter.”



Bottle in hand, Cindy heard the knock and looked around. Darlene and Lily were still out fetching the babies. Cindy looked down at the bundle in her arms. Hannah had closed her eyes, a small line of drool creasing a perfect chin. She needed to be burped, and Cindy wanted to do it before her sister was deep asleep. But someone kept hammering away at the nursery door. The noise was no doubt disturbing the other babies. Carefully, Cindy lay Hannah in her layette and went to the front part of the nursery. Through the glass windows, she saw her father. His face was ravaged with exhaustion, his eyes lolling in their sockets. Quickly, she opened the door.

“Are you all right?” She started toward him, then moved back. “I can’t hug you, ’cause I’m all suited up.”

“S’right.” Decker was having trouble focusing. “I just woke up and realized I hadn’t seen you yet. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine, Daddy. Go back to sleep.”

“What’re you doing?”

“I just finished feeding Hannah. She needs to be burped. If you want to do it, you’ll have to put on a gown. You can’t cross that yellow line unless you have a gown on.”

Decker took a step away from the walless barrier. “I’d love to burp her, except I’m so tired I’m afraid I’d drop her. How’s she doing?”

“Great.”

Decker felt himself smiling. It must have been a reflex, because every muscle in his face was too numb to move voluntarily. “Thanks for taking care of her. As soon as Mrs. Elias comes here, I want you to go home and get some rest. I know you teens think you’re immortal, but you need sleep.”

Cindy stared at her father. “It’s not because you think I’m too attached to Hannah, is it?”

Decker paused. “Who gave you that idea?”

“Nurse Bellson,” Cindy said. “She thinks I am. She’s worried I’m going to feel jealous when Rina’s well enough to take care of Hannah. It’s not true. I’m only trying to help.”

“I know you are.”

“So you’re not upset with me?”

“No, sweetheart. I love you very much. Just if you could try to avoid butting heads with the staff—”

“You mean Nurse Bellson?”

“If that’s who you’re butting heads with, then yes, get along with Nurse Bellson. Even if it’s her problem.”

“Daddy, you’re dropping on your feet. You look real sick. I think you should sit down.”

“No, I’m okay.” Decker stifled a yawn. “I have to get back to Rina.”

“How is she?”

“Still sleeping.” Decker forced his eyes open. “Cynthia, I really do appreciate all your help. But you do need your rest.”

“Look, if you want me to go home now—”

“No.” Decker was surprised by the sudden strength of his voice. “No, you can wait until Mrs. Elias gets here. If you don’t mind.”

Cindy looked quizzically at her father. “Where did that come from?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you want me to wait for Mrs. Elias?” Cindy widened her eyes. “You don’t trust Nurse Bellson either, do you, Daddy? Do you have something on her?”

Despite his fatigue, Decker laughed. “You’ve been watching too many bad movies, sweetheart.”

“You’re not being honest with me, Daddy. Why don’t you trust her?”

Decker sighed. “It’s not Marie Bellson. It’s the night nurse, Darlene—”

“Darlene? She’s a living angel.”

“Cindy, she left the babies alone to walk me to the elevator.”

“Are you sure, Daddy? Maybe there was someone in back, and you didn’t notice.”

“Oh.” Decker hesitated. “Shows you what I know. Is there someone in back now?”

It was Cindy’s turn to hesitate. “Well, Darlene kind of told me to wait for her specifically because she didn’t want the babies left alone. She and Lily—that’s her newest trainee—they were collecting the babies from the moms after the twelve o’clock feeding. It’s taking a little longer because Darlene volunteered to help out in the adjoining nursery. They’ve been shorthanded lately ’cause of budget cuts.”

“So Darlene left you in charge?”

Cindy’s eyes went to the ceiling. “She’s right here on the floor, Daddy. I have her beeper, but it isn’t even necessary. She comes back every few minutes. Says she’ll finish up real soon. She’s doing the best she can.”

“Cindy, you’re a peach, but Darlene doesn’t know that. You could be anybody. Did you ever see Marie leave the babies alone?”

Cindy shook her head. “I guess Darlene is very trusting.”

“It’s dumb. She’s asking for a tragedy and a lawsuit.” Decker put his hands in his pockets. “I’m very grateful that you’re watching Hannah. And truthfully, yes, Marie does tweak my nose. If Rina weren’t so … so laid-up, I’d check my whole family out of here. But as of now, I’m stuck. So if Mrs. Elias wants to take over for you for a while, let her. Marie’ll probably be more tolerant of her than you.”

“I ask you, Daddy, is that right?”

“No, it isn’t right, but frankly I don’t care. I’m looking for what’ll work. So help me out. You can come back when Mrs. Elias has to go home to tend to the boys. Okay?”

Cindy nodded.

“And please don’t make problems. I want you here in the nursery, Cindy, because I do trust you.”

“Thanks, Dad. It’s nice to hear that.”

“You’re welcome.” Decker rubbed his eyes. “Go burp your sister. Give her a kiss for me. Tell her I love her and hope to burp her very soon.”

“She’ll be waiting for you, Dad. Sorry if I’m being a bit of a pain.”

“Nah, you’re never a pain. You’re a great kid, Cynthia. The best. God knows, your mother and I have had differences, but she did a fabulous job.”

“You had a little to do with it.”

“Not as much as I should have.” Decker raised his brow. “Probably why you turned out so good.”




9 (#ulink_007a8382-2045-5756-b5c5-6d0da154e8e4)


After she vomited, she felt much better. Mack was nice—helping her into a chair, then wiping her mouth. He took out a Rubbermaid quart container and peeled off the blue lid. Dipping a tablespoon into the hard plastic, he fished up some tan mush.

“Open up.”

“I’m sick.”

“Open up, Tandy. You need your calories.”

She didn’t move.

“You’re really infuriating, you know?”

Mack pried her jaws apart with his thumb and forefinger. She was fighting him, but it was a losing battle. Such unbelievable strength in two little fingers. She couldn’t help but be awed. He force-fed her some mush, pushing the oversized spoon into her mouth. In her different life, she would have gagged. But now she was in control.

Pureed chicken. Wasn’t half bad.

“Come on, Tandy, open all the way up.”

Passively, she complied.

“That’s a good girl.”

Another spoonful.

“How much do I have to eat?”

“The whole thing.”

“Mack—”

“If you want to look right, you have to eat right. Now shut up and open up!”

She paused. “I don’t think that’s physically possible.”

Mack laughed and fed her another spoonful. “You did fair tonight. I’ve seen you do better.”

“I wasn’t at my best.”

“Something on your mind?”

She shrugged.

“What?”

“It’s just work, I guess.”

“Bitches giving you problems?”

“Always.”

“Open up, Tandy. I refuse to let you leave until you’ve had your proper caloric intake. How the hell are you going to build muscle if you don’t give your body fuel?”

“A month ago, Leek put me on eight hundred calories a day for two weeks.”

“A month ago, you were working for the cut. We’re not working for the cut right now, Tandy. We’re going for bulk.”

She sighed but obeyed. After she swallowed, she said, “All this back-and-forth. One minute I feel like a pig, the next minute I’m starving myself.”

“Hey, are you going to let your body control you, or are you going to control your body?”

She was silent.

“Know what I’m saying, Tandy?”

“I know. Rest assured I’m in total control.”

“No one said this was easy. You want easy, don’t come here. Go to the Golden Hotshot Spa and pay a million dollars a day to do it all wrong.”

“I’m not looking for easy, Mack.” She licked her lips. “I’ve never looked for easy. Easy is unhealthy. Maybe it is my work. My other work. I do so much, and no one ever says anything. They take me for granted.”

“The docs, too?”

“No, the docs love me. They know I’m great. It’s the people I work with … the nurses … the head nurses.”

“They’re just jealous, Tandy. They can’t stand the fact that you know more. Probably galls them that you look so good, too.”

She nodded.

Mack presented her with another spoonful. “So don’t pay any attention to them, okay? They’re just laying a trip on you.”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to work.”

“So move in with me or Leek or Eric. We have group grunts. They really get the competitive spirit going.” He paused. “We could set you up with some easy nursing clients. No bureaucracy and lots of side benefits.”

Right, Tandy thought. She knew all about the side benefits à la Leek. Penny-ante stuff. Such mundane fools. “Not for me. But thanks for the offer.”

“Welcome. Open.”

She swallowed the puree. It tasted like gritty soup.

“Besides, my work is important, Mack. People rely on me. I just don’t get any appreciation from the people I work with.”

“Like I said, they’re jealous.”

“But my patients … I’m really important to them.”

“I can dig it.”

“The doctors don’t have the time. It all falls on the nurses.”

Mack began scraping the sides of the container. “People at the hospital ever notice how good you look?”

Tandy twitched. He didn’t understand. Talking to Mack was like talking to wood. But at least he was real. She knew that much.

“Uniforms hide a lot.”

“Uniforms hide these?”

He squeezed her breasts. She yelped with pain.

“God, don’t do that! I’m so sore.”

Gently, he began to touch her, walking his fingers over her breast tissue. But it was more medical than erotic.

“You definitely are swollen.”

“I’m really going to feel it tomorrow.”

“That’s okay. You can only tolerate pain if you have pain.”

“No more.” She pushed aside the spoon and stood. “No more. I’ve got to go to work. Did you get it?”

“Yeah. I mixed it with a little something to take the edge off. I mean, you’re still going to feel sore—gotta feel the soreness—but not like a truck ran over you. How do you want it?”

“Usual, I guess.”

She sighed and dropped on her hands and knees. She felt him pulling off her panties.

“God, you have a wonderful ass.”

“You mean a wonderful pincushion.”

She felt him kissing one of her buns, running his mitt-sized hand over her firm flesh. Mack’s voice had dropped to a whisper. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a woman.”

“I can’t, Mack. Besides, it won’t work. You know that.”

“What a loss …” His voice was low and wolfish. “For both of us.”

Kill him.

Tandy jerked her head up, her eyes snapping open. The suddenness of her motion startled Mack.

“You all right, Tandy?”

Beads of sweat ran down her face. The low one. Or was it? Did she really hear it? Tricks upon tricks upon—

“Tandy?”

“I’m …” She took a deep breath and let out a forced laugh. “I’m … fine. Let’s get on with it. I’ve got to go.”

Gritting her teeth, she didn’t even flinch as she felt the bite of the hypodermic. She rose slowly, her muscles aching. Like an old woman, she hunched her way to the corner, pulled the uniform off the coatrack, and stepped into the white dress.

She looked in the mirror, straighted her collar, and tugged on the hemline. Her developed chest was pulling the dress upward, showing off her long, shapely legs. She flexed and pointed her toes several times, watching her calves expand and contract with each movement.

So graceful. Like a ballet dancer.

Her face had lost some of its color. She steadied her hands and pulled out blush, dabbing her cheeks with a touch of red. She dropped the compact back in her purse and pulled out a brush. Gathering her hair into a ponytail, eyes on her reflection, she knew she was beautiful. It wasn’t Mack’s fault. Mack just couldn’t help himself.

Again she straightened her posture. She was now a model of efficiency in her uniform. She knew she could inspire trust.

That was important. Trust.

She glanced at her watch.

Time to go to work.




10 (#ulink_5ef2f5c4-18e5-5b89-bd91-ec3f95e35ca9)


Darlene edged the last of the layettes into its space in Nursery J, then placed her gloved hands on her hips. Her eyes traveled to the babies, ten of them—two blacks, four Hispanics, three whites, and one Asian—as varied as L.A.’s own population. Each had its own personality, even at this age, but all of them were as precious as an angel’s song.

Not that they sounded like angels. Baby Girl Rodriguez and Baby Girl Jackson were squalling up a storm. Now Baby Boy Yamata … there was a good baby. Quiet. Like his parents.

Squalling up a storm.

The expression made her smile. No one knew squalls like she knew squalls. The late November winds on the lake … a cold so bone-chilling it froze your teeth numb.

Baby Girl Decker was missing … probably still with Cindy in the back room. Darlene thought about Cindy—a real good kid. Not too many sisters were that devoted. Not a lot of devoted people, period. That’s what Darlene liked about nursing. You gave to others, actually helped them. Helped them more than the doctors, if the truth be known.

She watched the infants for a few minutes without doing anything, observing wide-open mouths and scrunched-up eyes. Baby Girl Rodriguez had cried herself lobster red, fingers balled up into tight fists as she cried to be held. Too bad Darlene had only two arms. Shame women weren’t born octopuses.

Rubbing her arms, she threw a furtive glance over her shoulder. Slowly, her hands reached toward Baby Girl Rodriguez. Teeny little thing. Darlene had cooked chickens that weighed more. But the baby was fully formed and doing well. Cute coffee-bean eyes hidden by locks of silky black hair. The baby quieted as Darlene nestled her into her bosom, patted her little back. Tiny, fragile bones. All of the babies, so small yet perfect human beings. The wonderment of new life. It never failed to amaze her.

She undid BG Rodriguez’s blanket, and the cold blast of air suddenly sent the little girl into another episode of hysterics. Quickly, the nurse took the unclad baby over to the scales.

“Now this’ll only take a minute, honey,” Darlene cooed as she slid the poise over the indicator numbers. BG Rodriguez was still a little under two kilos: She’d need at least another couple of days of hospitalization before she’d weigh enough to go home.

“Stop your bellyaching. We ain’t even at the hard part yet.”

With a firm grip, Darlene lifted the infant from the scales, placed her on the table, and rewrapped her in her blanket. The baby’s loud outbursts quieted to whimpers. On the table was a tray of instruments and a stack of charts. Placing a firm hand on the infant’s stomach, Darlene scanned through the pile until she found BG Rodriguez’s records. She flipped through the papers, looking for additional instructions or orders from the pediatrician. Finding nothing of significance, she wrote in the time and the latest weighing.

The baby was now fully awake, black eyes trying to focus, legs kicking under the covers. Darlene chucked her chin, then carefully liberated a little foot from the swaddle of the blanket.

Tiny foot—as small and soft as a ladyfinger. Little red toes.

Again Darlene took a quick peek over her shoulder. She felt her shoulders tighten as she reached for the instrument tray. It was always tense with the first one. Holding the foot firmly in her grasp, the charge nurse held her breath as she jabbed a razor-sharp needle into the pad of the baby’s heel.



Decker’s own snoring woke him up. He heard himself snort and grunt, then he shook his head in a weak attempt to dislodge his stupor. His bones hurt; his muscles ached with rigidity. He managed to open his eyes, light flooding his retinas. It took him a moment to focus, and when he did, he was shocked to see Rina’s eyes upon him. Quickly, he sat up, swinging his stiff legs over the edge of the cot. He took her hand and kissed it.

“Morning, darling.” He looked at the wall clock. Five fifty-two—morning only in a technical sense. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. It was hot and dry. “How do you feel?”

Rina’s lids fluttered, but she kept her eyes open. “How’s … our baby?”

“Gorgeous!” Decker tried to sound upbeat. “Beautiful just like you.”

“Tell me.”

“Well …” Decker cleared his throat. “She’s big and robust and beautiful and alert. Definitely the best kid in the whole hospital.”

Rina’s lips formed a weak smile. “I want to hold her. Hold my baby.” Her eyes grew wet. “But I can’t, can I?”

“Of course you can hold her. You’ll spend hours holding her. But first you’ve got to recuperate.”

“From the surgery,” Rina whispered.

“Yes, from the surgery,” Decker said. “Go back to sleep, honey. It’s the best thing for you now.”

Rina turned away, then faced him again. “Something’s …” She swallowed hard. “Something’s wrong, Peter.”

“I’ll call the nurse—”

“No,” Rina cried hoarsely. “That’s not what I meant.”

Decker felt his head spin. “Doctor says you’re going to be fine, Rina. But you need to rest … relax. The only thing you should be concerned about is getting your strength back. Now I’m ordering you to close your eyes and go back to sleep.”

Rina attempted a deep breath, her face contorting from the effort. “I’m not bleeding normally. Not like the others …” She winced. “And the miscarriages, too. It’s not normal.”

Decker squelched a wave of nausea. “Rina, you’re so tired. Go to sleep, honey.” His voice was making tinny echoes in his ear. “I’ll be here when you wake up. You’ll feel better after you sleep.”

“Your face.” Her voice was so raspy. “You’re not looking at me. Tell me.”

Decker couldn’t talk, paralyzed by exhaustion and fright.

“What’s wrong with me, Peter?”

“Nothing’s wrong, honey.”

Immediately, he regretted the false words. He had to tell her. He couldn’t let her think she was the same as before, only to have her psyche destroyed later on. She’d never forgive him. As much as he dreaded the task, he knew he had to confess. He forced himself to look in her eyes. They’d become deep blue pools.

“I love you, baby.”

“What is it, Peter?”

He kissed her hand again, then whispered, “Rina, you had a hysterectomy. That’s the reason you’re not bleeding normally.”

She didn’t react.

After some false starts, he finally found his voice. “Rina, we have a lovely, lovely family. A beautiful new baby … a real gift from God. We have to remember that.”

She said nothing, her eyes resting blankly on his face.

“I know how you must feel … no, I don’t know how you feel. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

He kissed her hand again.

“Rina, the truth is, I’m an old man. I mean, who wants to be playing sandlot ball when you’re fifty, right?”

Her expression reflected his stupidity. He knew he should just shut up, but the jitters kept his vocal cords humming overtime.

“I know how you feel about kids, honey. And I love kids, too. We’ve got to look at it this way. We have three beautiful, healthy children; I’ve got a nearly grown daughter. Babies are wonderful, but it’s nice when the kids grow up and are big—on their own. Give us a little special time … we haven’t had a lot of that, you know?”

Nothing.

“Rina, four kids can be a real stretch on the pocketbook. Private schools, then college. Man, I can’t believe what it cost to send Cindy through one year of Columbia …”

He was babbling. But it didn’t matter, because none of his words were really registering with her.

“Honey, I know it’s hard to have perspective. But … but try to think about how blessed we are to have a beautiful, healthy baby daughter—”

“Peter, I’m only thirty years old!”

And then came the tears, the sadness so pure and honest it mercifully muzzled his moronic ramblings. He brought her face against his chest, and she sobbed on his shoulder.

“It stinks, Rina,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry!”

The information was too devastating to handle consciously. Eventually, she cried herself to sleep.



Holding his daughter, Decker felt comforted. There really was something to be grateful for. If only Rina could hold Hannah. He knew the contact—the bonding—would lift her spirits.

The baby slept as he rocked her—a perfumed package tucked in the crook of his arm. Decker kissed her forehead through his mask, his coffee-laced breath recirculating through his lungs. It wasn’t unpleasant—beat the early-morning sourness in his stomach. Rabbi Schulman had come as soon as he called. He was with Rina now, watching her sleep, giving Decker a chance to see his daughter without worrying about his wife.

Decker hadn’t out-and-out told the rabbi what had happened to Rina, but the old man had figured it out by what wasn’t being said. Decker felt bad discussing Rina without her consent, but he made a judgment call, hoping it was the correct decision. In the past, the old man had always been a source of comfort for both of them.

Cindy pulled up a chair beside him. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Decker smiled under his mask. “I only make beautiful girls.”

Cindy gave a soft laugh. “You look … serene, Daddy.”

“Babies do that to you. Brings back lots of memories of when you were born, kid. It was hot and muggy, and I remember thinking your mom was going to dehydrate if I didn’t get her to the hospital. I can’t believe that was nineteen years ago. Where does the time go?” Decker chuckled. “That’s swell. Now I’m sounding like an old geezer. Stop me before I become my father.”

Cindy laughed. Decker looked at his elder daughter’s face, at the dark circles under her eyes.

“You didn’t go home last night, did you?”

“I fell asleep. I rested.”

“Go home, princess. Rabbi Schulman is with Rina. I’ll wait for Rina’s parents to take a shift.”

“They just arrived with the boys not more than five minutes ago. They’re waiting to see the baby. You should put Hannah in the layette so Nurse Simms can wheel her into the window area.”

“Oh, sure.” Decker stood, then settled the sleeping infant in her cart. He draped an arm around Cindy. “Did you ask Mrs. Elias if she’d stay with Hannah?”

“Yeah. She said she’d be delighted.” Cindy lowered her head. “Guess I’m not needed anymore.”

“Princess, you’ve been an enormous help these last eighteen hours. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“If you want, I’ll come back after Mrs. Elias leaves.”

“Yes, I’d like you to very much. You and Nurse Bellson work things out?”

“Not really. She still hates me. I can’t figure out why.”

“Don’t bother. It’s her problem, not yours.”

Cindy smiled, but she was clearly troubled.

“What’s wrong?” Decker asked.

“Daddy, did you know that Nurse Bellson pulls double shifts an average of twice a week?”

“Where’d you find this out?”

“Darlene. Doesn’t it sound like she’s overinvolved with the babies?”

“Sounds to me like Darlene shouldn’t be gossiping with you.”

“Darlene didn’t say she thought Marie was overinvolved. That’s my observation. And it’s not just the babies, it’s the mothers, too. I happened to overhear her lecture this teenaged mom on how to care for her baby. She was very bossy. ‘Do this, don’t do that.’ And then you know what she did?”

“No. Why don’t you tell me?”

Cindy smiled. “She asked a couple of moms to pray to Jesus with her. Don’t you think that’s completely inappropriate?”

Decker was quiet, taking in Cindy’s words. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.”

“I think we should say something to her boss.”

Decker exhaled forcefully. “Cindy, while I appreciate your sense of propriety—”

“I should keep my mouth shut, right? At least while Hannah’s under her care.”

Decker didn’t answer.

“Maybe we should move Hannah to another nursery,” Cindy suggested.

“They’re going to ask why,” Decker said. “Then what do I tell them? Because my daughter doesn’t get along with your top charge nurse who has worked here for over a decade? A nurse who was nice enough to let her hang around even though it’s bending the rules? If Marie had really wanted, she could have kicked you out. But she hasn’t done that. That’s worth something, Cynthia.”

“Then why does she have such hostility toward me?”

“Probably because you’re treading on her turf. It’s irrational. From what you’ve described, I’m not saying the woman’s without problems.”

“Maybe she resents you and Rina because you’re not Christians.”

Decker shrugged. “I don’t think so. I think she’s just territorial.”

“Darlene isn’t like that at all.”

“Are we talking about the same Darlene who left you in charge of a dozen newborns?”

“She didn’t leave me in charge.”

“Cindy—”

“Daddy, better I be in charge than some of the staff during the graveyard shift. It gets real weird here at night.”

Again Decker paused. “What exactly do you mean by weird?”

“Darlene said because of the budget cuts, the hospital is forced to use a lot of temporaries and floaters. Some of them are very strange. Believe me, we’re very lucky to have Hannah under Darlene’s care.”

“Well, that was confidence-inspiring.” Decker bit the ends of his mustache. “Maybe I should check Hannah out today. The pediatrician told me medically she could be discharged. But I really wanted her to stay overnight. It’s going to be another day before Rina can come home, and I wanted to give her a chance to hold Hannah. I didn’t want her to feel isolated from everything. But you’re a sharp kid. If you say it’s weird, I’ll take both of them out of here.”

Cindy looked pained with the responsibility of decision. “Dad, I’m real tired. Maybe I’m exaggerating.”

Decker sat back down. “Good Lord, do I know that feeling.”

“Daddy, I’ll watch Hannah again tonight. Last thing I want is to take the baby away from Rina.” Cindy hesitated. “How’s she doing?”

Decker didn’t answer.

“Daddy?”

Decker ran his hands over his face. “There’ve been a few complications, but she’ll be all right.”

“Serious complications?”

“She’ll be all right,” Decker said again.

“You’re hiding something from me, aren’t you?”

Decker looked at his daughter. “I just don’t like talking about Rina when she’s not around.”

“You’re right. I don’t mean to be intrusive.”

Decker put his arm around his daughter. “Princess, go tell the nurse to wheel the baby out. Then I want you to go home and get some rest. Come back here when you’re refreshed. I really do need your help.”

“Daddy, it’s my pleasure being able to help you.” Cindy ran her toe along the ground. “Being able to be with you like this has been really nice. You and I talking like friends. I know you’re my father first. But it’s nice to be friends with your dad, right?”

Decker tousled Cindy’s rust-colored hair. “Yes, it’s very nice.”



They had moved her to a regular hospital room—an indication that she was no longer in danger. Now she was just a mere patient. They’d look after her for a day or maybe two, then she’d be released. No matter that she’d leave a shell of what she’d been. That didn’t concern the hospital. As long as her heart was beating and her breathing was steady, she’d be sent home.

She didn’t look at Rabbi Schulman. From a single glance, Rina knew Peter had told him. One part of her felt angry and betrayed. But the other side whispered relief. The emotional pain was too much to bear alone, too much to comprehend. Why was happiness always ripped away from her? After Yitzchak had died, she thought she’d never love again. But Hashem knew better. She met Peter, and she did love again. It was a miracle.

Then this.

Why did He feel the need to constantly test her? Wasn’t her unwavering faith enough?

Without her realizing it, tears had formed—hot and bitter. Still staring at the wall, she said, “He shouldn’t have told you. It wasn’t his place to tell you.”

“I knew something was very wrong, Rina Miriam,” the rav said softly. “Akiva simply told me the specifics.” He paused. “Perhaps it was my fault. I asked Akiva detailed questions. I apologize for prying into your life.”

Rina didn’t answer. Now, instead of being angry, she felt guilty that she had made Rabbi Schulman apologize. Weak and sick, pain encircling her like a tight girdle, she wanted to sleep for a hundred years.

Schulman said, “I would like to wish you a refuah shelenah, Rina Miriam—a very speedy recovery. I am sorry for your pain. It is confusing when unfortunate things happen to nice people. It puts us at odds with our sense of justice.”

Rina turned to the rosh yeshiva. The man was in his late seventies, and his age was finally beginning to show. His skin was wrinkled and mottled, but his dark eyes were as clear as ever. He sat stoop-shouldered, legs crossed, his liver-spotted hands clasped and resting on his knee, fingers holding the rim of his homburg. He wore his usual black suit and tie and a starched white shirt. His beard was white, as was his hair. Atop his head was a black silk skullcap.

Rav Schulman was a calm man, a calming man—his voice, his presence. No matter what life demanded of him, he always had enough time for those who needed him. Rina said, “I suppose this is a minor setback in the scheme of things.” She sighed, then grimaced as her wound throbbed. Her voice had come back, but her throat still felt raw. “It isn’t the Holocaust.”

“No, it is not the Shoah. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t entitled to your grief, Rina Miriam. I lived through the Shoah; I lost my only son. Yet I still become frustrated when I misplace my wallet. So what does that say about human nature?”

Rina sank into her pillow and stared at the ceiling. “I feel petty for feeling so … bitter.”

“Your operation was far from petty. Your bitterness is very understandable.” Schulman licked his lips. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

Rina looked at the I.V. in her arm. “Nothing, thank you. My doctor told me I can eat solid food for lunch. Not exactly heart-stopping news. But it is the only news I have.”

“I’m glad you are recovering nicely.”

“Thank you for coming down, Rav Schulman. You have always been a rock of support for me and my family.”

“You’re welcome, Rina Miriam. Have you seen your baby?”

“They won’t … I’m still running a fever, and they don’t want the baby to contract anything.”

“It will help when you can hold your baby.”

Rina continued to stare at the acoustical ceiling tiles, wet streaks down her cheek. “I have three healthy children, baruch Hashem. I should be doing better than this.”

“You needn’t reproach yourself for showing human emotion. Nowhere in the Torah does it say we cannot feel sadness or happiness or anger or even doubt. Sarah laughed when Hashem told her she would conceive at the tender age of ninety. Some say it was the laughter of joy. After nine decades of being barren, she was elated at the prospect of having a child. But others say it was laughter of disbelief.” Schulman paused. “Not so hard to imagine her disbelief, nu?”

Rina nodded.

“Hakodesh Baruch Hu Himself tells Sarah of such a miraculous, wonderful event,” the rav continued. “The same Kodesh Baruch Hu who created the world. Is nothing beyond Him? Is there anything that He cannot do? Yet Sarah—a prophetess—still could not think beyond her earthly limitations, and laughed at Hashem’s prophecy. So if she could be human, so can you.”

“I’m angry at God,” Rina whispered.

“I, too, have been angry at God. He is strong. He can take your anger without feeling personally affronted.”

Rina surprised herself by smiling.

Schulman said, “You are not without insight, Rina Miriam. You should be grateful for your three healthy children. And you are grateful. But while I don’t want to put words in your mouth, I would imagine you are saddened by the fact that your family size was determined by a surgeon rather than you. In reality, how much control do we actually have over our lives? Life is a loan from Hashem. We are put here by His design; so shall we leave by His design. So if death, like life, is part of the Eternal’s plan, why do we say tehilim for the sick? Do we really think that our prayers will alter Hashem’s design?”

The rabbi held his finger up in the air.

“The answer for me is yes, they can. We believe in a personal God—a God who at least listens to our prayers. We don’t understand Hashem’s ultimate design. But that doesn’t mean we can’t ask. King David knew his first off-spring with Batsheva was a child born from sin. He knew from prophecy that the child wouldn’t live. The words came directly from the prophet Natan’s lips. Yet David, Hashem’s own anointed, fasted and prayed to Hashem to spare the child.”

“It didn’t work,” Rina said.

“No, it didn’t. But David gave it a try. There are times when Hashem is willing to deviate from His original plans, times when He has forgiven the most grievous of sins. Our prayers are not empty words, Rina Miriam. Though the world may seem very dark now, Hashem has an open ear for you. You may ask. You may not get, but you may ask.”

Rina’s hand fell upon the clamp that closed her surgical incision. To spare her own life, they had taken away her ability to create life. “I don’t want … well, I want but I don’t expect miracles. I know …” Her eyes moistened. “I know I can’t have a magical transplant. I can’t have any more children. I … will learn to accept that. But right now, I want the rage to go away. It hurts to be so angry.”

“You will not be bitter the rest of your life. You are a strong woman. You will go on with your life. You will laugh again. You will enjoy your beautiful family. Just give yourself time for reflection and thought …”

Rina held back tears. “I’ll try.”

Schulman patted her hand. “You are very tired. Rest while you can. It hasn’t been so long that you can’t remember how much energy it takes to care for an infant.”

“Rav Schulman?”

“Yes?”

“That pasuk about King David? It has always bothered me.”

“How so?”

“David wept and fasted and prayed and wailed before the baby died. As if he were anticipating his mourning.”

“This is very true.”

“But then afterward, he got up and washed and dressed and anointed himself. Wouldn’t you have expected some kind of ritual mourning after the baby died as well?”

“Yes, you would. And David’s behavior puzzled his servant as it puzzles you. There have been several commentaries on the issue. The first: A child isn’t considered a full life until after thirty days, so it would have been improper for David to sit shivah for him. Second: King David actually did sit shivah for his son. The passage ‘and he arose from the earth’ meant he came up after the traditional seven days of mourning.”

The rabbi took a breath and twirled the tip of his beard around his forefinger.

“The third interpretation was made by the radak—Rav David Kimchi—and it is what we just talked about: that David’s fasting before the child died was a prayer to Hashem to spare the child. Once the baby died, David saw that this was the will of God, and his rising from his mourning—the anointing, dressing, and washing—was to show his kingdom that he accepted the will of Hashem, no matter how painful.”

“So I should get up and wash and go buy myself a new dress, huh?”

“Not a bad idea, even if you mean it allegorically. Rina Miriam, you should do whatever you need to do to get you over this difficult time. If you need to grieve, grieve. If you need to be angry, be angry. If you want to put it behind you, you can do that, too. Judaism has a lot of rituals, a lot of nonnegotiable behaviors. But we also allow for a great deal of personal freedom. Personal freedom and its sister trait, personal responsibility, are what make the religion so hard. But they are also what make the religion so satisfying.”




11 (#ulink_b97035ca-5336-5d31-aaad-b55a25383a2f)


Like the old dance marathons, it was an endurance test. Cindy stayed awake out of sheer stubbornness. Though queasy and off-balance, she knew she’d make it through the night. She’d had lots of prior experience from cramming for finals.

A little past one and all was well. Up for hours upon hours. As she flipped through her memory file, she seemed to recall her father doing consecutive shifts at work for two, even three days in a row … her mother complaining about it, some of her annoyance stemming from worry. How did Dad operate on such little sleep? But Dad was always driven.

Cindy contemplated a catnap—Hannah had just fallen asleep and wasn’t due to be fed for two more hours—but she had decided against it after talking to Dad about Marie … and about Darlene, also. Hannah was just too important for her to be asleep at the wheel.

At this point, Cindy didn’t really trust anyone on duty. So many weirdos coming in and out of the nursery, all of them hidden under surgical masks. Not that Cindy really knew they were weirdos. It was the time of night. Everyone looked fun-house distorted.

Just make it through the next six hours, and Hannah would no longer be her responsibility. Rina would be going home in the morning, the baby with her. Dad had even hired a baby nurse named Nora. Even though Cindy had told him that she’d take care of Hannah until Rina was well enough. But that was Dad. Worried that she wasn’t having enough fun. And then when she tried to have some fun, he’d worry for her safety.

It was an occupational hazard of his job, always seeing the world as a battlefield. That’s why she decided to study criminal science from an academic viewpoint. Still, it must be thrilling to be tossed in the thick of it. A rush that did strange things to your head.

Like right now. She thought of herself as kind of an under-cover cop, analyzing Marie and Darlene while trying to appear casual. Silly, but it helped pass the time.

One-fifteen A.M.

All the babies from Nursery J had been wheeled back home, an earful of noise coming from the other room. Cries in counterpoint harmony. Symphonie aux Bébés!! From all the fussing and yelling, it was a sure bet that Marie was doing checkups. Not that Marie was particularly heavy-handed, although Cindy thought Darlene was better, but the babies didn’t like the procedures. They didn’t like the weighings because the nurse had to unwrap them, and the cold air on their tummies made them cry. They didn’t like the measuring because they were on their backs, their little leggies all stretched out. All the probing and poking. And then there were the blood tests taken from their teeny heels. That was always good for a yelp or two.

The stuff you pick up hanging around a hospital.

The crying seemed a little louder tonight. Maybe it was just her. Sound magnifies when one is sleep-deprived. Something she’d learned in one of her psych courses.

Cindy glanced at the clock again. The big hand had moved two minutes.

Too tired to read, she scanned Scientific American and looked at the pictures. Multicolored graphs and schematics that looked like stacked Tinkertoys. They were supposed to represent the cellular makeup of a rare tree lichen. She closed the magazine and placed it on her lap. Then she stood and put the magazine on the chair and peered inside the layette.

Hannah was snoozing like the proverbial baby.

Cindy didn’t want to bug the nurses, but she was so damn bored staying up with no one to talk to. Maybe she could help Darlene. Darlene was always willing to give her something to do. Part of it was propaganda: showing her the wonders of nursing. Every time Cindy did something, Darlene would praise her to high heaven and tell her what a wonderful nurse she’d make, how the profession needed smart, dedicated people like herself. Cindy took the compliment but tuned out the message. Though she’d learned that nursing was a lot more than changing bedpans, she’d also sensed that the profession was a lot of hard work and responsibility for the compensation. Always under a doctor’s orders …

Not that power and money were important to her. But passion was. She didn’t feel passionate about nursing, not like she did about criminal sciences.

Cindy blinked several times, then stared out the window to the nursery. Lightly, she massaged her temples, trying to rub away the small throbs of an upcoming headache. Headaches just like Dad’s, only sometimes hers turned to migraines. Dad said he had them in his younger days. The wonders of genetics. It was all the noise. The babies going at it without coming up for air—so loud.

Carefully, she tiptoed to the main section of the nursery, her eyes falling on the layettes aligned in teeth-comb order. No one was around—not Marie, not Darlene, not any of the other nurses. Distressed-infant cries were echoing off the walls.

Cindy felt strange and suddenly cold.

She called out a hello, projecting so she could be heard over the squeaks and wails.

No answer.

Wrapping her arms around her chest, she walked over to the layettes. Baby Girl Jackson’s diapers had leaked onto the blanket. Spencer Dole had become completely untucked, the blanket loosely covering the infant’s face. My God, even Baby Boy Yamata was crying. He had spit up on his blanket, black hair wet and sticky.

Cindy pulled the coverlet off Spencer’s face and placed the red-faced little baby boy on his stomach after reswaddling his body. Comfortable and cozy, the infant immediately fell asleep as he sucked on his fingers. She cleaned Baby Boy Yamata’s face with a sterile wipe, wrapped him in a clean blanket, and placed him on his stomach. That was his position of choice. He closed dark eyes and drifted off to baby slumberland.

She looked around. Alone and anxious, she changed Baby Girl Jackson’s diaper, hoping no one would walk in and think she was molesting the infants. She knew she had no business touching the babies, but no one was in sight.

Something was wrong.

She looked inside the glass window of the nurses’ station for Nursery J.

Empty.

Where the heck were Marie and Darlene?

Cindy looked at the clock, looked at the window, looked at the babies, her mind dizzy with indecision. She started toward the yellow line, but realized she was suited up. If she crossed the border, would she have to regown in order to get back to Hannah? She didn’t even know where the nurses kept the gowns.

Then she saw the wall phone and a directory posted to the phone’s immediate right. She dialed the exchange for Front Desk. The phone rang and rang, and no one answered. Then she tried the hospital operator, who answered after ten rings. Cindy explained the situation to the operator and was then connected back to the front desk. Again no one answered.

Darlene had said there had been some major cutbacks at the hospital, but this was ridiculous! Suppose Cindy was a sick person who needed help? Or suppose she was calling for one of the babies who needed help? What a disaster that would be. Her mind was suddenly besieged with worst-case play-outs.

The clock read 1:45.

All of a sudden, time was moving quickly.

Two experienced nurses supposedly on shift, and there wasn’t a soul in sight.

What to do, what to do?

Give it another five minutes.

And then what would she do?

At two, she tried the front desk again.

No one.

Where was everyone? A baby could be choking or something.

Now she was thinking like Dad.

Dad!

Good old Dad!

She could call him, but she didn’t want to wake up Rina. Nor did she want Rina to know about the lax care at the nursery. Daddy was right. Darlene was weird to leave the babies alone. And Marie was weird, too. But at this moment, she would have given a lot to see either of their faces.

What on earth was going on?

As soon as the clock clicked 2:10, Cindy put her foot tentatively over the yellow line. Walking swiftly, encountering no one in the halls, she went directly to Rina’s room and knocked softly on the door. When no one answered, she opened it and stepped inside.

Dad was sleeping in a cot next to Rina’s hospital bed. She went over and gently shook his shoulders. His arousal was so fast that he startled her. Then she remembered he was used to waking up on a moment’s notice. He was wearing gray sweats and had on tennis shoes that looked as big as boats. His bleary eyes scanned her face. A glance and he knew something was wrong. He put his arm around her shoulder and led her into the hallway.

“What is it?”

“Hannah’s fine, Daddy.”

Decker took a deep swallow and brought his hand to his chest.

“I scared you,” Cindy said. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to do—”

“Do about what?”

“There’s no one in the nursery—”

“What?”

“For about forty-five minutes,” Cindy said. “I tried calling the operator and the front desk, but no one ans—”

“Who’s with the babies now, Cindy?”

“No one—”

“Good God!” Decker started jogging. “You left Hannah alone?”

“I’m sorry, but I just didn’t know—”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want to wake up Rina—”

“Cindy, for God’s sake, use some common sense! It’s better to call and wake Rina up than to leave Hannah alone—”

“I’m sorry—”

“Jesus!”

“Daddy, you’re going the wrong way.” She tugged on his arm and steered him to the left. “This way.”

Quickly, they ran down the common nursery hallway, nearly bumping into Darlene. The plump nurse looked at them wide-eyed, then started marching toward Nursery J.

“What’s wrong?”

“Where were you?” Cindy asked.

“Nursery B,” Darlene said defensively. “If you needed something, why didn’t you ask Marie?”

“Because I can’t find Marie.”

“What?” Darlene exclaimed. “Then who’s with the babies?”

“Good question!” Decker snarled.

“No one in there for the last hour maybe,” Cindy said.

“That’s crazy!” Darlene said. “I passed Marie a long while back. She said she was on her way back to Nursery J.”

“Then she didn’t show up,” Decker said.

When they arrived at the nursery, Darlene stopped and said, “Detective, you’re going to have to wait here, because you’re not suited up.”

“Cindy, go in and tell me Hannah’s okay.”

“Right away.”

Darlene faced Decker. “I’m very sorry. I don’t know how this hap—”

“It happened because you were careless,” Decker snapped.

“I don’t appreciate your rudeness, Detective.”

“And I don’t appreciate hospital negligence.”

Darlene folded her arms around her chest. “I don’t think there’s any sense in pursuing this conversation.”

“I agree,” Decker said. “So why don’t you forget about my manners and just get back to work.”

Red-faced and shaking, Darlene opened and closed her mouth. Then she turned and disappeared within the inner sanctum of the nursery. Decker looked down at his sides and saw his hands clenched into fists. Slowly, he uncoiled his fingers. Cindy came back a moment later. She was breathless.

“She’s fine, Daddy. Sleeping like …” Suddenly, Cindy broke into tears. “I’m sorry.”

Decker hugged his daughter tightly. “No, I’m sorry, Cynthia. I shouldn’t have belittled you like that. That was terrible.” He laughed nervously. “A heap of thanks for all your help, huh?”

“But you were right,” Cindy dried her tears on his sweats. “I shouldn’t have left Hannah. I should have just called you.”

“As long as Hannah’s okay.”

Cindy pulled away and nodded. “She’s fine. I’ll just go back—”

Decker pulled her back into his arms and hugged her again. “Cindy, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

She smiled. “It’s okay, Daddy.”

Decker said, “I’m checking Rina and Hannah out just as soon as Rina gets the final okay from her doctor. This place is a security nightmare. You better believe Rina’s doctor as well as the administration are going to be hearing from me. Some heads are going to roll.”

“Daddy, Darlene is a single parent—”

“I don’t care, Cynthia. If this is a typical example of her competence, it stinks!”

“What about Marie?” Cindy said. “Isn’t she at fault, too?”

“Cindy, as far as I’m concerned, the both of them aren’t fit to run a chicken coop!”

Cindy broke off and whispered, “Daddy, you’re shouting.”

Decker stopped. “Dad on the rampage, huh?”

Calm down, Deck.

“I’m all right, Cindy.” Decker gave her a forced smile.

And remember to unclench your jaw.

Sighing, Cindy hooked her arm around her father’s. “I understand your feelings. I’d be upset, too. As a matter of fact, I am upset! I was panicked, seeing all those babies and not knowing what to do. Watching Hannah has really turned into an awesome responsibility.”

Decker digested that. “You’re right. It’s not what you’re supposed to be doing. It was just that Rina needed me very badly. But now, you and Hannah need me more. You go on home. I’ll stay with Hannah.”

“Daddy, I didn’t mean that.”

“I know. I just want you to go home and get some sleep, okay?”

Cindy looked down.

“Princess, it has nothing to do with trust. You’re as capable as I am, we both know that. We also both know that I’m not going to be able to sleep a wink until Hannah is out of here. You know how I am once I get a bug in my brain. So humor me, okay?”

“I understand. Would you like me to look after Rina?”

“No, I’d like you to go home and get some sleep.”

“I can sleep on your cot, Daddy. If Rina needs something, I can get it for her. Besides, I’ve gotten to know Hannah. Maybe Rina would enjoy hearing all about her. How often she sleeps, how often she eats, how many ounces she drinks, how often she poops.”

Decker laughed. “That’s really nice, Cindy. And yes, I think Rina would really like to hear all about Hannah.”

“It’s her first daughter.”

“Yeah.” Decker winked at her. “Something special about those first daughters.”

Cindy smiled.

Decker said, “Go bunk down in the cot. When Rina wakes up, tell her we switched places. Don’t tell her what just happened. No sense scaring her.”

“I’ll just tell her you were giving me a sleep break.”

“That’s good.” Decker looked around. “I need a gown, don’t I?”

“Yes. Oh, here’s Darlene. Can you get my father a gown? He’s going to spend some time with Hannah.”

Darlene didn’t answer. She looked dazed.

“What is it, Darlene?” Decker said tensely. “Is everything all right?”

“It’s …” Darlene put her hand to her mouth. “I don’t know where the devil Marie is. I’ve paged her and … this is … I …”

Decker regarded the nurse’s face—as white and blank as an empty canvas. Her voice was unnatural; her hands were shaking. He said, “Sit down and tell us what’s wrong.”

She gazed helplessly at Cindy. “I’ve called Security. They’re going to want to talk to you.”

“Me?” Cindy felt her chest tighten. “Why do they want to talk to me?”

“What’s wrong?” Decker said louder.

“It’s crazy …” Darlene muttered. “She came back at twelve-oh-five. She was on her way here when I left to help out in some of the other nurseries.”

“Who was here?” Cindy said. “Marie? Marie hasn’t been here for the past hour.”

“I can’t seem to locate … It’s simply not … and Marie’s not answering her page. It’s crazy. In all my years as a nurse, I’ve never … I mean you read …” Again she faced Cindy. “Somebody had to have been here, Cindy. Someone must have been in the nursery.”

“Maybe somebody was here, Darlene,” Cindy said. “I was with Hannah. I wasn’t in the main nursery—”

“So you must have seen someone. Who did you see?”

“I didn’t see anyone. I was busy with Hannah.”

“Why are you interrogating my daughter?” Decker said.

“I’m not interrogating. I’m just asking—”

“Why?”

“If only Marie …”

“Why does Security want to talk to my daughter?” Decker said forcefully.

“Because she isn’t here.” Darlene began to shake all over. “And Cindy was probably the last person to see her.”

“But you said you saw Marie in the hallway, Darlene,” Cindy said. “That would make you the last person to see Marie.”

“No, not Marie!” Darlene burst into tears. “It’s one of the infants! I can’t find Baby Girl Rodriguez!”




12 (#ulink_9de76955-23a7-5c33-a773-c8a3bfcde8b6)


Nose pressed to the glass, Decker stared at the newborns—things no bigger than a rib roast, completely helpless … sinless. His heart went out to them, knowing that life would dish out a fair amount of dirt even if they were lucky. Baby Girl Rodriguez’s safety net had unraveled just a few days into her existence. His eyes traveled over the infants of differing races and sexes until they landed on an empty layette. His heart began to pound.

“Hey, Sergeant.”

Decker spun around, startled by the interruption.

Officer Brian Harlow. He’d been in uniform nearly three decades. He was still muscular and fit, but the years were there. Hair that was more silver than blond, a gut straining the buttons of his shirt. Vanity probably prevented him from admitting he needed a larger size. Harlow ran his fingers through his slicked-back hair.

“We’ve done three passes through the lots, through the immediate neighborhood, too.” He shook his head. “No sign of the red Honda. It’s still dark, not easy to tell colors, but we’ll keep trying. Should be better when the sun comes up. In the meantime, do you want to put out an APB on the car?”

“Yeah, call it in.”

Harlow clapped his hands together. “You got it.”

“Any action by Bellson’s apartment?”

“Just talked to the cruisers. Everything’s quiet.”

“No movement inside?”

“Nothing.”

“Any lights?”

“Black as a well,” Harlow said. “When do you think the warrant’ll come through?”

“Probably take another hour or so,” Decker said. “Hollander couldn’t get through to the first two judges. Finally, he managed to locate a third and wake him up. He’s on his way to His Honor’s house as we speak.”

“How’s the baby’s mother?”

“Lourdes Rodriguez,” Decker stated. “Detective Dunn’s with her now.”

“I’ll call in that APB.” Harlow slapped Decker’s back. “Congratulations on your kid, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

Decker checked his watch. Darlene had last seen Marie around midnight. If Marie had taken off with the baby, she’d have a big jump on them. He had sent some uniforms to watch her apartment. So far nothing.

Why would a woman who had worked with babies for years suddenly snatch a kid? A latent maternal longing? A fit of madness? Maybe she’d done it against her will. Some psycho sticking a gun to her temples and forcing her to take the baby. It was that very thought that scared Decker the most—Marie and the infant in the hands of a psycho.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he glared at the security guard. Guy was pissed, probably felt usurped—too damn bad. He and his guard buddies had had their chance, and they’d blown it with a capital B. Not that TECHWATCH Securities International wasn’t working overtime, covering its butt, hoping to keep the liability down.

Good luck, pal.

Mom was hysterical now, not even thinking about litigation. But after a day or two, even if the baby was recovered safely, odds were that the security firm and the hospital would get phone calls from a heavy-breathing lawyer.

Marge walked over to him, notebook in hand. “How’s it going, Rabbi?”

Decker stuck out splayed fingers and rotated his wrist back and forth. “How’s Lourdes Rodriguez?”

“Sleeping.”

“Get a chance to talk to her?”

“A little. She isn’t married to the father, but they’re together—boyfriend/girlfriend. She couldn’t imagine Papa stealing their baby. Or forcing Marie to steal the baby. As a matter of fact, she grew hysterical at the prospect of telling him what happened. She’s afraid of what he might do.”

“To her?”

“To her, more like to the hospital.” Marge raised her eyebrows. “Seems Matty likes to play with matches and owns a firearm or two—”

“Jesus!”

“If I were you, I’d get Rina out of here.”

“She’s leaving at ten this morning. We’d better put a watch on this guy once he’s informed. What’s his full name?”

“Matthew Luke Lopez.”

“Did he Anglicize his name?”

“No, it’s his legal name. He’s American born but was raised in the barrio. Lourdes said he has a good heart, but a bad temper.”

“Tell me something new,” Decker said under his breath. “How old is he?”

“Seventeen, eighteen. Lourdes wasn’t sure.”

“Prime age for impulse.”

“Yeah, I thought about that.” Marge stopped talking. “In all fairness to Matty, Lourdes wasn’t making a lot of sense. Doc upped her dose of sedatives. She’s completely zonked out now, poor kid.” She pushed wisps of hair out of her brown eyes. “Man, this is just horrible! So close to home. You must be freaked.”

“Yeah, I’m a little …” Decker was quiet. “Did you get anything out of the Rodriguez family?”

“Mamacita is with Lourdes now. She speaks broken English, refers to her sons a lot.”

“Lourdes’s brothers are here?”

“Waiting for me in the lobby. I kicked them out of the hospital room early on. Which didn’t endear me to the clan. But I couldn’t get anything done with three mucho macho guys hanging over my shoulder. I did tell them to stick around, that I’d want to talk to all of them. That didn’t set right with them, either. Guess their prior experiences with the police haven’t been positive. At least I feel I’m earning my money. You want me to interview the nurse who was on duty?”

“Darlene Jamison,” Decker said. “No, I’ll handle her. I did a quick interview with her right when it happened. She wasn’t making much sense, either. But she did give me an approximate timetable of her whereabouts. She was where she said she was. But I’m far from done with her.”

“Where is she?”

“In the nurses’ station, making arrangements with her baby-sitter to stay a little longer. I’m angry as hell at the woman, but I do feel for her. She looks genuinely shaken. And she’s probably worried about her own derriere. She’s got some liability in this.” Decker looked at his watch again. “It’s been about fifteen minutes. I’ll give her another five minutes, then we’ll go over it again.”

Marge paused. “What do you want to do with Cindy?”

“She’s with Rina. You can interview her just as soon as my ex–father-in-law gets in.”

“Don’t you think you’re overdoing it by getting her a lawyer?”

“It’s not her lawyer, Marge, it’s her grandfather. Jack was adamant that she not say anything until he comes down. What the heck.” He shrugged. “Do you want me to assign someone else to do the interviewing?”

“No, Pete, I’m comfortable with it,” Marge said. “Cindy’s a witness, not a suspect. As a matter of fact, I’ll take over the entire case if you want. You still have time off. Maybe it would be better if you spent it with Rina. There’ll be plenty of other cases to bust.”

“I keep trying to tell myself that. That I shouldn’t be working. But then …” He slammed his fist into his open palm. “Marge, it could have been Hannah! If Cindy hadn’t been with her, who knows? I owe it to that little baby girl to find her. I owe it to her and to her mother.”

“Pete, everyone’s busting their chops with this one. The case is top priority. Hospital’s sealed. We’re going to interview anyone who passed through these hallways, anyone on duty, and anyone just hanging around. Cameras will be down for the morning news—we’re gonna get the word out about this little girl in a big way. You owe something to Rina, too.”

“You know what Rina will say, Marge.”

“Find the kid.”

“Find the kid,” Decker repeated.

Marge gave up. “So how do you want to divide this?”

“I’ll investigate Marie Bellson. Someone just brought up her work file from Personnel. After I’m done with Darlene, I’ll go through that. I’ll also call back Hollander and find out if the warrant came through. When it does, I’m planning to visit Bellson’s place personally.”

“Fine. After I’m done dueling with the Rodriguez boys, I’ll go over the interviews the uniforms are doing on the staff. Find out who saw what. See if the blues missed anything. How many do we have assigned to do the job?”

“Twelve—two per floor. Mike said he’d help you just as soon as he’s done obtaining the warrant.”

“That’s good.”

“Go over the accounts with a magnifying glass, Marge.”

“I’m glad you told me that, Pete. Otherwise I would have been slipshod.”

Decker frowned. “How ’bout cutting me a little slack, partner?”

“Sorry.”

“I was talking as much to myself as I was to you.”

“I know.” Marge patted his shoulder—the one without the old bullet wound. “Just relax and concentrate on this Bellson lady.”

There was a moment of silence. Decker said, “Do I make a lot of condescending remarks like that?”

“Occasionally.”

“You know I don’t mean anything by it. I think you’re top-notch.”

“I know, Pete. It’s okay.” Marge rubbed her eyes and looked up. “Cindy’s counsel’s here.”

Decker waved his ex–father-in-law over. Jack Cohen was in his midsixties but still walked and talked and dressed like a young man. He had a sprightly voice, bright blue eyes, and a quick comeback for every remark. He could be fun to be around because his aggression was tempered by wit. Not so his daughter. “Counselor Cohen,” Decker said. “My partner, and Cindy’s interviewer, Detective Dunn.”

“We’ve met before, but it’s a pleasure.” Cohen shook hands with Marge. “Where’s my girl?”

“She’s with Rina,” Decker said. “I’ll call her now that you’re here. Thanks for coming down, Jack. It’s probably not necessary—”

“It can’t hurt.” Cohen tugged on his jacket lapel. “She sounded upset, Peter. Scared. It’s good you called me. I want to be with her, not because she’s in trouble, but because she’s my granddaughter and I love her.” He turned to Marge. “Let me talk to her for a few minutes, then we’ll talk to you.”

“Sounds good,” Marge said.

Cohen shook Decker’s hand. “Congratulations on your new little girl, Pete.”





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