Abandoned. John Schlarbaum
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“I am and I found some information about Helga that may explain why she believed someone was out to kill her.”
Jennifer brought her seat to an upright position and found a notepad in her purse. “Go on,” she said.
There was a brief pause and Jennifer heard Maryanne in the background encouraging Luke on, as she had on the hospital bench. “Helga was the star witness at a murder trial. Her granddaughter was killed by her husband, who was convicted and sent to prison.”
“That’s good he was found guilty,” Jennifer replied. “Why would Helga be in any danger now?”
“Because there might be an appeal, and in the article I read the lawyer claimed without Helga’s testimony his client would be found not guilty.”
Jennifer wrote down this information and mulled over its importance. “But why kill her in a public place like a hospital? Why not make an attempt when she’s home alone?”
“That’s the thing, Jennifer, I think they did,” Luke said cautiously. “The surgery was scheduled after Helga arrived in the E.R. I spoke with her nurse and she remembered that Helga was tight-lipped about her fall at home. But she thought that Helga had mumbled, ‘I almost got away from him,’ only to dismiss it, like I did, because Helga was high on painkillers.”
Jennifer was alarmed by this news. “Did you tell the nurse what Helga had said to you?”
“No, I’m too scared to tell anyone anything, aside from you.”
Jennifer was relieved that Luke had kept his mouth shut. “From now on, please stop discussing Helga with any hospital personnel, besides Maryanne. I need to do some research on this murder trial. Can you text me the story link?”
“I’ll do it now.”
A few seconds later, Jennifer’s phone made a pinging sound. “Got it, thanks, Luke. Get to the end of your shift and go home. I’ll contact you in the morning,” Jennifer said. “Are you working the same shift tomorrow?”
“No, I generally only work weekends, unless someone is sick and I’m called in to cover their shift,” Luke answered. “Maryanne will be at the hospital from noon until midnight though.”
“Sounds good,” Jennifer said. “And one more thing: remember that none of this information may be connected to Helga’s death, okay?”
“I know,” Luke said.
Jennifer set her cell phone on the dash and re-read her notes, as Jeffrey remained silent for several moments.
“What are the odds that you found your next story to investigate?” he asked.
“One hundred percent, my friend,” Jennifer said with a sigh. “One hundred freakin’ percent.”
NINE
Luke put his cell phone in his pocket and cleared the website history from the computer in the O.R. staff lounge. He didn’t dare print off the newspaper article he’d found online until he got home. He sent Maryanne the link, knowing she would read it while manning duties at the lobby security desk.
“Luke, are you there?” an Admitting Clerk asked. “Can you check the linen bags in I.C.U.?”
“I can,” Luke replied unenthusiastically. “Thanks.”
“Feel free to stretch it out until the end of your shift.”
“Will do.”
Luke exited the lounge and saw a housekeeper mopping the floor down the hallway. “Hey, James, keep up the great work!” he called out with a short wave, not waiting for a reply, as he continued walking out of the wing.
The housekeeper, who was also in his 20s, gave Luke a nod, accompanied with a half-hearted smile, before going back to cleaning the floors.
On the elevator ride to the 3rd floor, Luke could hear Jennifer warning him not to discuss Helga with anyone else, but this call seemed like providence to do just that.
“I’ll be discreet,” he told himself.
The Intensive Care Unit (I.C.U.) and Critical Care Unit (C.C.U.) made up the west wing of the floor with nineteen beds inside. To Luke, there was no real difference between the patients; each one unlikely to survive without 24 hour monitoring of their current physical state. When someone did recover enough to leave the floor, as he wheeled them out Luke would joke, “It’s a better view going through these doors this way, isn’t it?”
Luke walked into the wing and took note of who was working. The staff who would’ve attended Helga were gone for the day, which worked out well for his plan to gather further intelligence. He changed a couple linen bags and made his way to a young nurse sitting behind the desk.
“Hi, Jess, I heard there was some excitement in here earlier,” Luke said in a confident friendly tone that belied the butterflies in his stomach.
Jess glanced up from her paperwork and smiled. “Are you talking about the woman who died twice this afternoon?”
“That’s the one,” he replied. “What’s that old line – if at first you don’t succeed ...?”
“Try, try again.”
“That’s it,” Luke said shaking his head. “I guess there were complications during her surgery. Do you know what happened?”
“I didn’t hear much at shift change. Apparently the procedure was going along as planned and then her heart stopped,” Jess said in a low tone. “They brought her back to life and sent her here, where she had another seizure. It’s so sad.”
“They always are,” Luke said slowly, deciding against adding his involvement with Helga. “Did she have any family?”
Jess looked toward a pile of medical charts on a shelf. “Her chart is already gone, so I can’t find out if she listed any family or a contact number.”
“Where do her records go?” Luke asked. “When we transfer a body to the morgue we only take the new checklist. The rest of the patient’s paperwork is taken out of the binder and held together with an elastic band.”
“That’s right. Now you’ve got me curious. Give me a sec.” Jess stood and walked out of view.
While he waited, Luke restocked isolation gowns for rooms running low.
Jess returned carrying a thin package of papers to the desk. “This Helga was a tough old bird, if this is all the medical information we have on her,” she said, removing the elastic band. “The chart starts from her admission in E.R. earlier today.”
Luke went behind Jess and scanned the information he could decipher over her shoulder. “She arrived by EMS,” he said, trying to remember the ambulance number and names of the two paramedics, “with a broken hip.”
“Life is so nonsensical,” Jess sighed as she flipped to another page. “I heard she tripped over her cat! Nothing like that should happen to an elderly person in their home on a Sunday afternoon.”
At the mention of ‘home’ Luke memorized Helga’s address. He then looked for a next of kin listing and found something strange. “Her emergency contact is a Genifer Grant, but there’s no phone number. What’s the use of that?”
Jess saw the empty box and shrugged her shoulders. “She might have been in shock and couldn’t remember. It happens. I’ve seen people in the E.R. who can’t remember the names of their children or their date of birth. The brain is on overload dealing with how to stay alive and it shuts down the pathways required to count to ten.”
“I guess,” Luke said. “What’ll happen to the cat?”
“Oh – I didn’t consider that,” Jess said with a concerned look. “Pets are the last loved ones to be cared for when a person dies. They have feelings