Scared To Death (Live to Tell #2)(76)

Brett pauses to read the sign posted just off the elevator outside the ICU.

ABSOLUTELY NO CELL PHONE USE

“They mean it,” advises a grumpy-looking woman who just stepped off the elevator with him. “Electromagnetic interference messes with the equipment.”

Brett frowns, wondering if that’s even true.

“You need to turn off your phone,” the woman orders him. “My husband is in there on a ventilator, and the last thing I need is for some jackass to kill him by not following the rules.”

Jackass?

Jesus.

But Brett can’t really blame her. Like everyone else in this unit, the poor woman is under terrible pressure.

Reluctantly, he removes his phone from his pocket. He really doesn’t want to turn it off now, in case Elsa tries to reach him, or Joan does.

But what if it’s true about the electromagnetic interference?

“Off,” the woman repeats, all but folding her arms and tapping her foot.

Brett presses the button and holds it up to show her that it’s powering down. She gives a satisfied nod and walks briskly into the unit.

He stays close on her heels. He’s gotten this far without incident, but security has to be much tighter up here on the ICU floor.

Luck is with him: the staff is just changing shifts. He sticks close to the woman from the elevator, acts as though he belongs here just as much as she does, and miraculously, no one stops either of them.

Mike’s name is scrawled beside a half-open door at the end of the hall.

Brett stops and stares at the unrecognizably battered and bandaged comatose man in the bed.

“You here for Mike?”

He turns to see that the room has one other occupant: a gruff-sounding, burly guy who seems ill at ease in a small bedside chair.

“Yes. I’m Brett Cavalon. You must be Joe.”

The man nods, getting to his feet, and they shake hands. Brett can smell cigarette smoke on his clothes.

“How the hell did you get here?” he asks.

“I walked.”

“All the way from Connecticut?” Joe returns his faint grin.

“No, all the way from the parking lot. I tried to call and tell you I was going to drive up, but your phone went into voice mail.”

“Yeah, they make you turn it off in here.”

“So I hear.”

“Have a seat.” Joe gestures at the chair.

“That’s okay. It’s yours.”

“Nah, I’ve been sitting for hours. I don’t want to leave the poor guy lying here alone.”

“What about his family?”

“Mikey don’t have family as far as I know. He’s divorced, no kids.”

“Parents?”

“Dead.”

“That’s sad.”

“Yeah.”

The two of them stand somberly watching Mike breathe, assisted by the machines.

“Has he said anything at all?”

“No.” After a moment, Joe adds, “But the nurse said he might be able to hear.”

Brett tries to imagine what it would be like for Mike to be helplessly trapped somewhere inside that broken body. It’s probably better for him if he’s completely unconscious.

But it’s better for me if he can hear.

He can’t help wishing—somewhat guiltily—that Joe would leave so that he might try to ask Mike about Mumbai.



I hate her.

She ruins everything. Daddy’s life, her own life…

But she’s not going to ruin mine.

Pacing her room like a caged animal, Caroline knows she can’t stay here. Not for long, anyway—maybe not even for the rest of the night.

But she can’t leave until she has someplace to go—and she won’t until she works up her nerve to make the phone call.

She keeps finding reasons not to—the most convincing one being that it’s too late—yet it probably isn’t, and the more she stalls, the later it gets. Pretty soon, it really will be too late—even for a college guy.

Frustrated, Caroline pulls his phone number from her pocket as she has countless times since her mother slammed her bedroom door and stormed away.

This time, though, she actually dials.

After a few rings, she hears, “Hello?”

“Jake? It’s Caroline. What are you doing?”

“Now?” There’s a pause. “Why?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to get together.”

“Now?” he says again.

“If you’re not busy.”

“I’m…ah, I was just about to go to bed.”

She thinks about making some kind of suggestive comment, but decides against it. That’s his department—if he’s interested in her.

But all he says is “Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

Tell me about it.

The thing is, he doesn’t sound all that tired. He sounds wide awake.

“Okay. I just thought…you know…” Trailing off awkwardly, knowing she must seem desperate, she wishes she’d never called.

Then Jake surprises her.

“How about tomorrow?” he asks.

“You mean…getting together?”

“Sure.”