One Murder More by KRIS CALVIN

Author:KRIS CALVIN
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: california mystery, murder mystery, female mystery, proving innocence
Publisher: KRIS CALVIN
Published: 2021-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

Maren’s eyes ached, her throat was dry, and she felt stiff from her fall. She had been at Santa Clara Valley Medical Center for three hours, watched over by a police officer, a small pudgy man with a body odor problem who, despite his uniform and badge, looked like he would have a hard time subduing any assailant. San Jose police had said the attack in the garage appeared to be a random robbery attempt—parking structures were a popular target. Perhaps that was why they didn’t send their top man. Still, any attack with a knife started gears whirring in Maren’s brain these days. She would think about that later. For now, her head only had room for Noel.

She tucked her feet underneath her on the hard vinyl chair and pulled the blanket the hospital staff had given her up to her neck. She couldn’t stop shivering. There was that awful hospital odor. Not a clean smell, although a mixture of pine and chemical disinfectant was dominant. Beneath it Maren felt she was breathing in something primal, the desperation of sickness and death. She thought of her mother’s last days in intensive care after her heart attack, then willed herself back to the present.

The ambulance had come to the Saniplaz lot quickly, paramedics barking at each other in code, taking action to stabilize Noel. She’d ridden in the back, crowded alongside Noel’s stretcher with an attendant who had fiddled with dials and an IV while they traveled at what felt like Mach speed through the San Jose city streets, sirens blaring.

“Noel, I’m here. It’s okay.”

Maren had held Noel’s hand in hers and continued speaking to him throughout the transport, although she’d had no sign he could hear. His fingers had felt icy cold and he never opened his eyes. The feeling inside her had been like an acid wash, the pain beyond anything she’d ever experienced, the “what-ifs” simply too terrible to consider.

At the hospital the paramedics had maintained their pace, wheeling Noel away on a gurney through two double doors. Maren was told to wait at the entry. After fifteen minutes she got in line at the intake desk behind a short, thick-waisted man in a T-shirt and plaid pants, a business type who looked like he’d been golfing, although Friday night didn’t seem the time for it. He leaned against the counter and drawled lazily, giving a long, detailed description of the barriers he encountered when he tried to pick up his wife’s medications at the hospital pharmacy. He seemed neither angry nor frustrated, just intent on a full, calm hearing of his grievance. It appeared to have nothing to do with emergency care and the staff tried to tell him so, but he persisted, never checking over his shoulder to see what kind of line might be forming behind him as the minutes ticked by. When he was finally done to his satisfaction, the man turned and walked out, failing to make eye contact with those he had kept waiting, including Maren.

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