The Playboy Doctor's Marriage Proposal. Fiona Lowe
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She confirmed the dose of the injection with Linton.
‘It could be the meat.’ He walked with her back toward the cubicle, his hands deep in his pockets.
‘True, except that a dad and his son were barbequing.’
He arched a brow and stared down at her. ‘Meaning?’
She ignored his supercilious look. ‘Meaning most of the blokes I know tend to char the meat rather than undercooking it.’
‘Now, there’s a sexist statement for you. I’m sure you have to be on the lookout for those in your assignment of interpersonal relationships in the clinical environment.’ He flashed her a challenging grin. ‘I can shoot your gross generalisation down in flames. I happen to be a brilliant barbeque cook and one day I will prove it.’
The dizzy dancing that had been spinning inside her since his invitation to drinks expanded. She couldn’t be imagining this. No, the signals were definitely there. He’d asked about her Master’s, he’d mentioned drinks, and now a barbeque. There was no doubt about it, he wanted to spend some time with her.
She ducked around the corner and helped her patient off the bedpan before inviting Linton in with the injection. ‘David, this is Dr Gergory.’
‘Hey, David.’ Linton extended his hand, treating the teenager like a young adult.
The patient put his hand out to grasp Linton’s and suddenly stopped. He flicked his wrist, shaking his fingers.
‘Is there a problem with your hand?’ Linton turned David’s palm over.
‘My fingers feel numb and tingly, like my hands have gone to sleep.’
‘Hands? Are both of them feeling like that?’ Emily caught Linton’s concerned gaze as her own unease increased a notch.
David nodded. ‘Yeah, it feels really weird.’
Linton placed David’s hand by his side. ‘It could be from all the vomiting. We’re replacing the electrolytes you’ve lost and we’re slowing down the vomiting with the medication. This should fix the tingling.’ He adjusted the drip flow. ‘We need to check on the rest of your family but ring the buzzer if you start to feel any more tingling, OK?’
David nodded wearily, not even raising his head from the pillow.
Emily tucked the blanket around him, made sure he could reach his buzzer and then followed Linton. ‘I’ll organise for bloods to be taken.’
‘Good, but let’s get everyone together and review the rest of the family first.’
Jason, Patti and Jodie all reported that their patients had similar symptoms after eating the same food.
‘So it’s an open and shut case of gastro, right?’ Jason recorded some notes in his spiral bound notebook.
‘Perhaps.’ Linton tugged at his hair, his fingers trailing a path, making his blond tips almost stand on end as he walked back to check on the eight-year-old.
‘Something’s not quite right, is it?’ Emily shared his niggling feeling of doubt.
His eyes reflected his apprehension. ‘I just get the feeling that if I call it gastro, then that’s just too easy. I think I’m missing something.’ He ushered her through the curtain ahead of him.
Little Jade Peterson lay quietly sobbing, her chest rising and falling in shuddering grunts.
‘Honey, does it hurt somewhere new?’ Emily ducked down so she was at eye level with the little girl.
‘No, but who’s going to look after Towzer?’
Emily exchanged a questioning look with Linton.
He shrugged his shoulders, his expression blank.
‘Who’s Towzer, Jade?’
‘My dog.’ She sniffed violently.
Emily stroked the little girl’s hair back behind her ear. ‘I’m sure your dog will be fine and waiting for you when you go home.’
She shook her head sadly. ‘But his tummy hurt too and he was sick.’
Linton bent down next to Emily, his vivid green eyes fixed on Jade’s face. ‘What did Towzwer eat?
She clutched her hospital teddy bear. ‘He loves sausages but he stole a chop too and Dad got cross.’
The meat. The buzzer sounded. ‘That’s David.’ Emily rose and walked quickly back to the cubicle.
Terror shone in the boy’s eyes. ‘My face feels all funny now. It’s like pins and needles and it’s really scary.’
‘We’re working on what’s causing these symptoms. I’m going to take some blood and hopefully that will tell us something.’ She gave him a reassuring smile and hoped her face didn’t show how worried she really was.
Something weird and neurological was going on. She checked his pupils with her penlight. Both were equal and reacting. ‘Can you squeeze my hands, David?’
He put his hands out toward her. Fear shot through her, making her gut lurch. His palms, which had been white before, now looked red and blistered, with flaking skin. If he’d burned himself, they would have known on arrival. Linton would have seen it earlier.
None of this made sense. ‘I’ll be right back, David.’
She stepped out of the cubicle, her mind racing, trying desperately to work out what was going on. She rushed back to Jade and almost collided with Linton as he opened the curtain. ‘Oh, thank goodness you’re here.’
He put his hands out to steady her. ‘What’s wrong? You’re white.’ He gently steered her to one side. ‘You haven’t got gastro too, have you?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m fine but David’s palms are peeling as if they’ve come in contact with a corrosive substance. Everyone is getting sicker and sicker in front of our eyes. What do you think this is?’
He clicked his pen up and down, the sound reflecting his agitation before he shoved it back in his pocket. ‘I wish I knew. We’ve got nausea, vomiting, stomach cramps, and the father has blood in his stools.’ His forefinger flicked off the tip of each finger on his other hand as he listed each symptom.
‘And facial numbness and tingling fingers.’ A horrible thought speared her brain. ‘It sounds like poison.’
He nodded, his expression grim. ‘That is the conclusion I’ve come to. It matches up that it must have been the meat that was poisoned because the dog was sick as well. I’ll call the police. Forget taking blood. Organise for a urine tox screen on everyone and get it to Pathology with an urgent request on it.’ He spun round, abruptly calling over his shoulder as he walked away, ‘Then organise for the whole family to be in one space. I want to talk to everyone together.’
She gave her staff their orders and ten minutes later, with the tests sent off to the lab, Jason and Patti soon had the trolleys in a square. Each family member lay on their trolley in the foetal position, legs drawn up against the severe stomach cramps, and groaning as each spasm hit.
‘I know you’re all feeling really ill, but I need you to concentrate on what we’re saying.’ Emily stood between the trolleys where Christine and Brian Peterson lay. ‘Everyone, including the dog, ate the meat and everyone has similar symptoms. David and Brian are the most unwell but I’m guessing that’s because they ate the most meat.’
She touched Christine’s hand. ‘Where did you buy the meat from, Mrs Peterson?’
The sick woman trembled. ‘It was one of ours. Brian slaughtered it a month ago.’
‘Have you eaten meat from that beast before?’ Linton asked, his voice quiet and nonjudgmental.
‘Yes, we have, and we’ve never been sick.’ She twisted a hankie