The Keys of Death: a veterinary medical thriller by Clare T. Walker

Author:Clare T. Walker [Walker, Clare T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Clare T. Walker

17

GAME OVER

MICHAELA WAS MUCH TOO EXCITED to go home and sleep, so she decided to spend the night at the animal hospital with Terry. He insisted, however, that he be the one to stay while Michaela went home and got the supplies they would need to get them through the long, semi-sleepless night taking care of Chloe. After all, he had won the toss, fair and square, and she had been cooped up in the animal hospital all day.

She was getting ready to leave, punching in the code for the alarm, when she realized that if she fully armed the system, the interior motion detectors would go off as Terry moved around.

She went to find him. When she passed Chloe’s cage, she stopped and watched the ECG. After about a minute of normal QRS complexes, a burst of jagged ventricular premature complexes interrupted the normal rhythm. Here we go, she thought. The VPCs were a side-effect of the electrolyte disturbances that usually occur with bloat and volvulus. After only a few seconds, the arrhythmia corrected itself and did not reappear again, but Michaela knew that it could develop again at any moment and might not be so benign.

This was going to be a long night.

Terry was in the office, playing a video game.

“How do you set the alarm for external sensors only?” she said.

He spun his chair around and faced her. “Don’t worry about that for now. I’ll set it when you come back.” Then he pointed the remote control at the TV and turned it off. A little smile lit up his face. “C’mere a sec.”

“If you insist,” she said, returning his smile. She sat down, straddling his lap. As he put his arms around her and pulled her close, she breathed deeply and relaxed, just resting against him. He rubbed her back, and under the gentle pressure of his warm hands, she felt the tension of too many tough days draining away from her.

“Better?” he asked.

“Hm,” she sighed.

“Me, too,” he said.

She sat up and leaned back a little, so she could look at him.

“What a team, huh?” he said. “Saving lives and making babies.”

She laughed. “All in a day’s work.” She ran her fingers through his thick, wavy hair.

“I know,” he said. “I need a haircut.”

She shook her head. “I like you this way. Scruffy suits you.” He hadn’t shaved, so his face was rough. He had a touch of gray at his temples, crow’s feet around both eyes. A scar above his left eyebrow, from Little League. A less noticeable scar on his upper lip, from a sled to the face one winter. His complexion was a bit uneven, from sunburn due to being outside so much. His blue eyes were smiling, as always.

At times like this, or like the other night when she had come home late and found him sleeping, or for no reason at all, a sensation would rise up in Michaela’s heart that she couldn’t describe. Love so deep it felt like hunger, except that it made her strong, not weak.

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